February 26, 1987
Fuck you, Harry.
How long have I been working for The Herald? Don’t answer that. It’ll be six years in March. Six years of loyal, mostly reliable service, and how do you repay me? By sending me on assignment to some tiny island on some wild goose chase?
I made it to Creeping Cave fine, by the way, after a miserable two hour ferry ride into the Atlantic. It’s cold and rainy and dull. I don’t know how someone could just vanish in a town of under 5,000 people, but I guess that’s what I’m here to find out.
I got checked into my room alright (at the 40 Nights Motel, in case you were curious, although I don’t think there’s more than one in the whole city), so when you need to write me back, this is the address to reach me.
I’ll start conducting interviews as soon as possible, and I’ll be sending you my first report ASAP. Hopefully this Ivan Murtin character will turn up in a ditch somewhere and I’ll be back home soon.
Some regards,
Iowa
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