Casebook 4: A Score Settled - 4.2[index]
It was a rare, sweltering July afternoon and I had just concluded a particularly unsettling murder case. The stench of blood hung all around me like a smog. I was tired deep into my bones. But it was my mind that weighed heaviest. I padded silently up the stairs to my study, shut myself inside and put on a record. I sat staring at the sleeve, recording nothing, only listening. The music rolled over me in waves. I began to feel content again.
Just then, something fluttered from inside the sleeve. I peered at it from the comfort of my armchair in a wary daze. It was an envelope. Typed on the envelope was my name. The music faded. I picked up the envelope from the floor. It was plain, white, the typeface non-descript. I opened it. Inside was a card printed with a message:
The familiar strain chilled along the back of my neck. There could be no other explanation. Another terrible crime had been committed by the Sweetheart Club.
Reluctantly, I tuned my radio to the frequency 0306. This is what I heard: