Last Request

Wait a minute. Have you heard the Whistler lately? I'm the Whistler, and I know many things, or I walk by night. I know many strange tales, hidden in the hearts of men and women who have stepped into the shadow.

Yes, I know the nameless terrors of which they dare not speak. And now the Whistler's strange story, last request. The group around Dr. Rourke's bed moved away as he beckoned with his last remaining strength, indicating that he wanted to be alone with his son.

It was alright, the nurse decided, because his boy, James Rourke, was a doctor himself. He directed the others out, moved silently after them, and closed the door. James sat on the edge of the bed, listened to what his father had to say.

It was an amazing story, something a dying man had to clear up. It wasn't really his own story, but that of one Tony Del Gano, former public enemy number one. It was late. The steamer dock almost deserted, when the big car pulled up near the gangplank.

And Tony Del Gano stepped out and turned to the driver. Ah, Selide, yeah, Tony? Not Tony, you fool. Well, we picked up before this tub even sails. Okay, okay, not Tony. What you got on your passport?

only Delgado is no more now David Delmas Delmas kind of closing it's got to be closer to don't slip now you see that you don't you do anything in silly even one little bit why always think I'm gonna be the opera star I don't think the nobody you see that you know and nice trip mr. Delmas yeah sure

It got everything? Everything. I'll make it if you behave. I always have. Well, so long, Chief. Don't take any lead slots. So long. And you'll be careful. You watch from the rail of the lights from the Golden Gate, fade into the distance.