It was an ordinary night on 5th avenue, especially during the autumn time of year. Snow was about ready to fall, and all the busybodies in the city were preparing for Halloween. Meanwhile, I - Nikki Monroe - was preparing myself for more bum cases and dreading every minute of it. The air between the telephone and me was thick with anticipation; would it ring? Would someone call pleading for my help, someone whose husband went missing? Or would it be like it usually was: a wrong number? The year before, around the same time, I'd gotten a call about a missing lawn gnome. As it turns out, the senile old broad had put the little ceramic bugger in her flowerbed and forgotten about it. It was by far the most wasted two hours of my life, standing there while she ranted about the "hooligans" in town, always wanting to steal her lawn gnomes. Yes, sadly, that was my business lately: dealing with senile old women. It had been a few months since I'd met up with Bruce Antonio and his crazy cat, Sweetheart. A bum case if I ever saw one, but one that I enjoyed anyway. Spencer, the cat Bruce had given me, was growing up and could care less about me - even though he still spent most of his time by the telephone, pawing at it occasionally when it rang. Bruce would stop by the office at lunchtime, and would bring a bag of treats for Spence. As it turns out, Bruce would also bring a bag of treats for me; but it was usually a fried bologna sandwich on white, with mustard. Every now and again, I'd get lucky and there'd be a pudding cup in there, too. On this particular night however, while I sat with my boots propped on my desk and a three-day-old newspaper in my lap, the phone rang. Spencer and I both jumped, since we don't usually expect the phone to ring. "Well don't just sit there, Spence, get it, will you?" I wailed. He sat and stared. "Stupid cat," I muttered, reaching for the receiver. In my best business voice, I answered the phone. "Nikki Monroe, PI - your loss is my gain. How can I help you?" "Hey Nik, it's Sally," came the response. Ah, good ole Sally Cane - fellow investigator and my nemesis. Sally was the type that happened to be chummy-chummy with the police department, helping with murders and stuff like that, leaving the mom-and-pop PI's like me in the dust. She was the Kryptonite to my Spiderman...the Tarzan to my King Kong...or however it goes, I'm not into that sci-fi stuff. You get the gist. "Hey there, Sally," I said with a sneer. "What's shakin', daddy-o? Another case, no bust?" "Aren't you the one dealing with the bust cases, Monroe? And what's with your new catchphrase?" "Hey, another day, another paycheck." "How much do you have in the bank, then? Five cents?" "I do what I love, Sal, plain and simple. Why are you calling me anyway?" She sighed heavily. "Truth is, Nik, I need your help." "Oh-ho-ho! So the tables have turned!" I laughed whole-heartedly. "Knock it off, Monroe. Do you want the case or not?" "Give me the skinny and I'll figure it out. The last thing I need is a waste of my time. Keep talking." "Here's the deal. I've been working with an anthropologist lately. She goes by the name of Dr. Melissa Cage. You might have heard of her, but I'm not sure you're the artsy type." "Ha, ha." "Anyway, about a week ago her home was broken into. She had just gotten back from Cairo on a dig and brought back some serious artifacts with her. They were stolen, but nothing else was touched." "What kind of artifacts?" "You won't believe me if I tell you." "Try me." She chuckled quietly. "A mummified hand." "Egad." I grimaced. "What happened to the rest of it?" "I don't know, that's one of the few things she brought back with her, and she was taking bits of the wrapping to decipher how old it was. She's really freaked about it, Nik, and quite frankly, I don't have enough time to work on this case. I've got that murder up on 54th that's taking up most of my time these days. Are you interested?" "Eh, why not? Should be interesting. What's her number?" Sally gave me the number of my new client, and we hung up without any goodbyes. I turned to Spencer. "What have I gotten myself into, Spence?" He tilted his head. "Ah well...we'll get this case under wraps, ASAP...right?" NEXT TIME: PROFESSOR CAGE