The last email I received from my Aunt Ethel told of a mysterious briefcase fashioned from gold that she had received in the mail from the estate of a dearly departed friend.
It’s been three days now, and I’m very close to opening the briefcase. I’m convinced the answer lies within. If it weren’t for these annoying little folk that keep calling me “monkey” I would feel more confident. I’m not a monkey! Really. But I must find out what happened to Aunt Ethel…