Prologue
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Dear Robert,
I've heard quite a lot about you and your detective work. In fact, I've even taken the liberty of interviewing some of your past clients. From what I've gathered, you do your job very well.
I've been through many, many detectives like yourself, and I must say that none of them can stand up to your achievements. This is why I want to hire you. And I assure you this is one offer you will not refuse. If you can solve my crime, I will have exactly one-hundred million dollars deposited at your doorstep. And no, this isn't a joke.
As I write this now, Mr. Otterman of Willow Street is slowly dying of poison beside me. In fact, I ripped this very pen from his breast pocket as he was gasping for air.
Find me, Mr. Samuels, and the money will be yours.
Ah, it looks as if old Mr. Otterman has passed on already. Sweet little man, he never even saw me pull out the needle. I must say he was the perfect candidate for my little challenge. No remaining family, living alone with nothing but his stamp collection. We shan't be having any false suspects, now shall we?
Oh, and if your pride will allow it, I've left a pretty little clue inside one of Mr. Otterman's coat pockets. I'm sure it will point you in the right direction.
Best Regards,
Miss Intrigue
