I got that funny feeling again, goin' back to the office. Somethin' was definitely not right. But what was it? Well, who knows...

I got back to the office. The pieces of the gorilla bank were still lyin' around. The bum hadn't cleaned up the place like I told him to. Gorillas. You can't tell 'em nothin' about nothin'. I got the whisk broom and dust pan and consigned his remains to the garbage. Whoever the Chinaman was who built the damned thing, he shoulda got a medal for his construction expertise. He oughta get a job at Fort Knox, with his talents.

I put the package from Australia on the desk. I'd sniffed it, and I didn't smell anything that smelled like explosives or nothin' like that. So far so good. It was fairly heavy and it didn't rattle. Hmmm. Well, I opened it up...real careful...this could be a "present" from Pago. Pago is an enforcer for the North Side Gorillas and he don't like me for some reason. The feeling is mutual...only I know exactly why I don't like him.

I got one side of the package open, and what do I see? A statue. A statue in some kind of hard, black material. It's a statue of a woman, wearing a long gown which is parted somewhat to show her legs. Nice gams. I notice she's wearin' a short cape, and she has full lips, slightly parted, as if in surprise. Her eyes look real surprised too, like she just seen a ghost. Most of all, I notice she has the likeness of a wooden stake driven right through her chest. That accounts for the surprised look. One more thing. She has the face of Magenta!

Well, my blood ran cold when I seen that, I can tell you. This was either a warning from "A. Phrend" or it was a threat...or a taunt. Someone was messin' with my mind. I still had feelings for Magenta, even if she wasn't exactly human, bein' what they call "undead", and some sick bozo who knew that was messin' with my mind! I had a feeling I knew which sick bozo it was. A tall, dark one that needed some dental work done to fix a bad overbite.

How did this connect with Vito Fresnelli at 17 Spartan Boulevard in Chicago? I didn't know if it even did, but I was gonna find out. I got out the card that cold-eyed bastard, "Morgue" had given me and dialed Fresnelli's number. It rang 27 times and I hung up. I would try again in the morning...or I'd go out there to Spartan Boulevard and take a look around. And when I did, the tommy gun was goin' with me.