This morning, something very interesting appeared in our in-box, startling us out of a prenoon coma. We don’t exactly know what it means or who it came from, but we are sufficiently intrigued to post it here. The message, in its entirety, reads as follows: Directly following the broadcast of this week’s Crime and Punishment, the public will be given satisfaction on the very spot where Sonny fell.

What does it mean? Will Saint Sonny rise from the dead? And where is Spencer Martin, as he does not appear to be on the set? The mind reels. As we get so little satisfaction and have such sad offline existences, we are considering showing up. Would you like to join us?

It had taken her a while to get that wording exactly right, and she was proud of the result. Spies of New York got a lot of e-mails, so she had to make sure to get their attention and make it seem legitimate. They had posted it at eight o’clock, just an hour before the episode aired.

Scarlett and Mrs. Amberson stood at the base of the steps of the courthouse, waiting. Forty or so other people were milling around, and more people were dribbling in in groups of two or three. The courthouse wasn’t a big attraction, so Scarlett assumed that they were there for the event. She hoped that none of these people were crazy, but there was no way of telling.

“You don’t think that anyone’s going to…kill him, right?” Scarlett asked. “I know this was my idea but…”

“It will be fine, O’Hara,” Mrs. Amberson said confidently. “The police are on top of the situation.”

The three police officers nearby were leaning against a collection of the stray crowd-control barriers that litter the New York streets, and a cruiser was parked nearby with no one inside. They probably just happened to patrol this area. They had one half-interested eye on the group, but their main concern looked to be their conversation.

“Where did you tell your parents we were going?” Mrs. Amberson asked.

“To see A Midsummer Night’s Dream. I told them I was reading it for school and it counted as doing homework.”

“Ah. Well, I don’t approve of lying to your parents, but this case might be an exception. They’ve had a very hard week, with too many surprises.”

“If they knew about this,” Scarlett said, nervously wrapping her arms around herself, “they’d start chaining us to the radiators.”

Murray was along for the ride, watching the action from the safety of Mrs. Amberson’s purse. Every once in a while, his little head would appear just under her arm and the terrified, marble-like eyes would take in the scene. Then he would sink back down into the depths of tea-tree sticks and notepaper, convinced once again of the horrors of the world.