Chapter II
THE PHONE CALL
HARRY Vincent looked out of his window of his room in the Hotel Metrolite, down at the busy streets below and sighed heavily. It had been weeks since his last assignment from his mysterious employer - The Shadow - and he was just itching for some excitement. As he watched the people bustle around below, his mind wandered as he recalled the numerous crimes he had helped the Shadow solve. A sharp rap at his door quickly brought him back to reality.
"Telegram for you, sir." The bellboy called from the other side of the door.
"At last!" He thought. "Another mission from the Shadow." He strode across his room, opened the door, and thanked the bellboy upon receipt of the letter. He closed the door and opened the letter, not paying attention to whom it was from. To his utter dismay it was not written in the special code he was required to memorize or in the disappearing blue ink. He looked at the envelope to see whom it was from. The name seemed vaguely familiar, Jessie Atkinson. He knew her, but he could not place from where. Vincent shrugged it off and read the note:
Vincent. Stop.
When you have a moment. Stop.
Give me a call. Stop.
Jessie. Stop.
Her phone number was written at the bottom, it was a local number. Slightly confused about the meaning of the entire situation, he decided it was worth a shot. He didn't have anything better to do at the moment.
"What number do you wish to dial?" The operator asked. Vincent recited the number and was connected.
"Hello?" A soft, shaky voice on the other line asked.
"May I please speak to a Jessie Atkinson? This is Harry Vincent."
"Oh Harry, I wasn't expecting you to call so soon."
"Well, I had a free moment."
"That's good."
"So, uh, why did you need me to call?"
"You don't remember me, do you?"
"Not really." He admitted, hoping this was his chance to refresh is memory.
She chuckled a little. "Does Daniel Atkinson ring a bell?"
Vincent's eyes widened. Daniel was his best friend growing up back home in the West. "Oh!" The memories of his younger sister, with her hair in pigtails, chasing them came flooding back.
Jessie chuckled again. "Glad you remember."
"What brings you to the Big Apple?"
"Getting away from home mostly. I heard you were in these parts, so I decided to drop a line."
"Why did you just call the hotel?"
"I wasn't sure if it was you or not. I sent the telegram to save myself the embarrassment."
"I see."
"Actually, I'm getting married and I was wondering if you would be interested in attending?"
"Well, congratulations. I would love to attend."
"Oh good. I'll put an invitation in the morning mail."
"Okay."
"Oh, there's Fredrick. I got to go. It was nice to talk to you, Harry. Bye." The receiver clicked before Vincent could respond. He put it down slowly. Something didn't seem right, but he couldn't exactly place his finger on it.
THE PHONE CALL
HARRY Vincent looked out of his window of his room in the Hotel Metrolite, down at the busy streets below and sighed heavily. It had been weeks since his last assignment from his mysterious employer - The Shadow - and he was just itching for some excitement. As he watched the people bustle around below, his mind wandered as he recalled the numerous crimes he had helped the Shadow solve. A sharp rap at his door quickly brought him back to reality.
"Telegram for you, sir." The bellboy called from the other side of the door.
"At last!" He thought. "Another mission from the Shadow." He strode across his room, opened the door, and thanked the bellboy upon receipt of the letter. He closed the door and opened the letter, not paying attention to whom it was from. To his utter dismay it was not written in the special code he was required to memorize or in the disappearing blue ink. He looked at the envelope to see whom it was from. The name seemed vaguely familiar, Jessie Atkinson. He knew her, but he could not place from where. Vincent shrugged it off and read the note:
Vincent. Stop.
When you have a moment. Stop.
Give me a call. Stop.
Jessie. Stop.
Her phone number was written at the bottom, it was a local number. Slightly confused about the meaning of the entire situation, he decided it was worth a shot. He didn't have anything better to do at the moment.
"What number do you wish to dial?" The operator asked. Vincent recited the number and was connected.
"Hello?" A soft, shaky voice on the other line asked.
"May I please speak to a Jessie Atkinson? This is Harry Vincent."
"Oh Harry, I wasn't expecting you to call so soon."
"Well, I had a free moment."
"That's good."
"So, uh, why did you need me to call?"
"You don't remember me, do you?"
"Not really." He admitted, hoping this was his chance to refresh is memory.
She chuckled a little. "Does Daniel Atkinson ring a bell?"
Vincent's eyes widened. Daniel was his best friend growing up back home in the West. "Oh!" The memories of his younger sister, with her hair in pigtails, chasing them came flooding back.
Jessie chuckled again. "Glad you remember."
"What brings you to the Big Apple?"
"Getting away from home mostly. I heard you were in these parts, so I decided to drop a line."
"Why did you just call the hotel?"
"I wasn't sure if it was you or not. I sent the telegram to save myself the embarrassment."
"I see."
"Actually, I'm getting married and I was wondering if you would be interested in attending?"
"Well, congratulations. I would love to attend."
"Oh good. I'll put an invitation in the morning mail."
"Okay."
"Oh, there's Fredrick. I got to go. It was nice to talk to you, Harry. Bye." The receiver clicked before Vincent could respond. He put it down slowly. Something didn't seem right, but he couldn't exactly place his finger on it.