Toying With Fate or Nick Carter's Narrow Shave, Pt 2

In this episode, Nick Carter investigates the murder of an old man, who is later identified as Alfred Lawrence, a man who had been convicted of forgery and spent 10 years in State's Prison. However, Mr. Peter Wright, who identifies the body, believes Lawrence to be innocent, and Nick sets out to find the truth. 

With the help of Wright's information, Nick discovers that Lawrence's wife and child disappeared after his imprisonment, and that he left prison with only $10, not the wad of money that the barkeeper at the Red Dragon Inn claimed to have seen. 

Nick follows the trail to the old Lawrence home on Beach Street, the train depot where Lawrence arrived, and The Manhattan Safe Deposit Company, where Lawrence had been loaned $200. The manager of the company confirms that he knew Lawrence personally and believes he may have been framed. 

As Nick puzzles over the case, Wright tells him of a strange encounter he had with a young woman claiming to be Isabella Porter, who gave Wright a package with the name Edward Peters written on it. Wright initially denies receiving the package, but later reveals that he found it in his room at the Continental Hotel. 

The episode ends on a cliffhanger as Nick opens the mysterious package, leaving listeners to wonder what clues it may hold in solving the case.

Theme written by Bernard Kyer for this podcast. Follow the link for more info. https://www.bardmediamusic.com/

Transcript

0:09

Hi friends. And welcome to another episode of forward into the past. I'm JC reday, your host and narrator. And today we're sharing the second part to the Nick Carter mystery called toying with fate or Nick Carter's narrow shave. Published in 1903 by street and Smith and written by Nicholas Carter, the house name for the publisher. Frederick van Rensselaer Dey was an American author and journalist who was born in 1861. He was mainly a pulp fiction writer who wrote under a variety of pen names throughout his career. However he is best known for his work on the Nick Carter series, which he wrote under the pseudonym of Nicholas Carter. Frederick day wrote his first Nick Carter story in 1886 and the character quickly became very popular with readers. Over the next several decades, Dey wrote over 1000 Nick Carter stories. And would you believe that he wrote every single one by hand? Sure the typewriter had been invented in days time, but he preferred to write every story in script. Days, Nick Carter character, as you know, by now was a master detective who solved complex crimes using his brilliant deductive abilities and martial arts skills. Nick Carter was known for his intelligence, cunning and bravery, characteristics that made him a popular hero for readers of all ages. Frederick day's work was known for its action, packed, plots, clever humor and thrilling cliff hangers. Day stories were so popular that they were even adapted for radio, film and television. Despite his success day remained a humble and dedicated writer throughout his career. He was known for his meticulous research and attention to detail. And he always made sure that his stories were both entertaining and informative. Day passed away in 1922, but his legacy lives on in the Nick Carter series, which remains a beloved part of American culture to this day. And if you're a fan of detective stories or just enjoy a good adventure. We have a great one on hand today. Part two of the Nick Carter mystery toying with fate or Nick Carter's narrow shave. Toying with fate or Nick Carter's narrow shave part two. Chapter three. The identification. Carter conducted Peter right upstairs to the attic room in which the body of the victim lay. The coroner was making an examination, but he stepped aside. So as to allow Mr. Wright to see the face of the murdered man, The former proprietor of the red dragon in looked at the ghastly white countenance long and intently. All of the persons in the room, watched him in silence. Several times the old man shook his head back and forth and his brow became contracted. Finally, he looked at Carter and shook his head dolefully. There is a certain familiar expression about that man's features. He said, In a tone of awe. But for the life of me, I cannot recall who he is. If he weren't a patron of the red dragon inn while I was a proprietor, he has changed so that I can not remember him. I am very sorry that you are not able to identify the body Mr. Wright. The detective said. Will you kindly accompany me downstairs. I want to have a private talk with you. Lead on and I will follow. The detective led the way down to the parlor. As soon as they were inside the room, he closed the door. Presently he and Mr. Wright were ensconced in easy chairs. Permit your memory to wander back 10 or 12 years to the time when you own this place. And see if you can recall the name of any, one of your patrons who was sent to state prison. Mr. Wright started. By Jove! He exclaimed. Carter smiled and his eyes sparkled. What startles you. The detective, asked with an assumed air of surprise. Nothing startles me. Mr. Wright rejoined. Then what is it? That man is Alfred Lawrence. He has changed mightily. It is no wonder. I did not recognize him, but I know him now. Who was Alfred Lawrence. He was one of my old customers. He was sent to sing, sing prison for 15 years for forgery. Don't you remember the famous Lawrence will case? Hmm. I have a slight recollection of it. The trial took place while I was away in Europe. And I read very little about it. I will tell you about it. Please do so. Alfred Lawrence was a well-to-do produce merchant who had an office on west street and lived on beach street. His uncle after whom he was named was the senior member of the firm. Old Alfred Lawrence was a bachelor. When he died, a will was found and in it, he left all his estate to his nephew. Simeon rich, another nephew and his sister contested the will. They claimed that it was a forgery and that Alfred Lawrence had forged his uncle's signature. The case came up before the surrogate and the fight was a bitter one on both sides. Lawrence's wife with whom he had lived unhappily went before the referee and swore that she had seen her husband forged the will. Her testimony was corroborated by Blanchard, the chief witness who was Lawrence's Butler. It was hinted at at the time. That Mrs. Lawrence and Simeon rich were very intimate. The will was broken. Lawrence was arrested, tried convicted, and sent to states prison. Then people forgot all about him. What became of Mrs. Lawrence asked Carter. She lived for a time at the beach street house. A year after her husband's conviction, the house was closed up and Mrs. Lawrence and her child disappeared. The house has remained closed ever since. Then there was a child. Yes, a girl. She was about, uh, Oh, 12 years old at the time. What became of Simeon rich. I don't know. How was the estate divided? That I don't remember. Lawrence you say was a customer of yours. He was, and he was a mighty fine fellow. I always believed he was innocent, not withstanding the fact that all the evidence was strong against him. And you believe that the murdered man is the same Alfred Lawrence. I do. Is this all the information you can give me Mr. Wright. It is. What was the number of the old house on beach street in which Lawrence resided. No, I don't remember that, but you can find it very easily. It is near Varick street and it's the only house on the block that is closed. Ah, Someone is at the door, said, Peter Wright. Carter arose from his chair and open the door. The police captain entered the room, followed by a policeman. Mr. Carter. He said, here is one of my men officer pat McGuire. He saw the murdered man last night. Did he. Carter queried, casting a searching glance at Maguire who replied. That I did Sir. Sit down and tell me all about it. Pat McGuire took a seat. This morning. He said, I reported at the station house and I heard about the murder. The instant I heard a description of the man read. I concluded it was the poor fall on, down and out old chap with whom I had a talk with last night while on my beat. I came around here. Took a look at the body. and, I saw that it was the old man. Then I instantly told the captain about the conversation I had with him. And he brought me here to see you. Tell me about that conversation, Maguire. Policemen McGuire gave Carter a clear account of the conversation, which he held with the old man and described how he had acted. When he concluded Mr. Wright ejaculated. You'll see Mr. Carter, that corroborates what I told you. There are no reasonable doubts now about that man being Alfred Lawrence. Why did he try to enter that house on beach street? I cannot tell. Mm. There is a deep mystery here. Remarked Carter. One, which I intend to solve. Gentlemen. I must leave you. Please keep silent about what you have told me. Before anyone could utter a word. He had slipped out of the room. A strange man. The police captain remarked, as soon as Carter was gone. Why has he left the room without giving any intimation about what he was going to do. The information, which had been imparted to Carter by Mr. Wright and the policemen was important. He was certain, now that the murdered man was the ex-convict Alfred Lawrence. It was his intention to probe into that man's history and learn more of the details of the will case and the trial. In doing this, would he be able to discover the motive of the murder? After leaving the red dragon in the detective at once without waiting to go home, went to a nearby telephone exchange and called up the keeper of sing, sing prison. From this man, he learned that Lawrence had been released early the day before, that he had been furnished with clothing and a small sum of money. And that he had started for New York. What train did he leave on? Carter asked of the keeper. The 11, 10. The keeper replied. Was he an exemplary prisoner? Yes. Did he have any visitors call on him? None. Are you sure? Yes. Did he ever talk to you about himself? No. He was always a taciturn man and he never talked to me or to others about himself. When he left here yesterday, he said that he intended to be revenged on the persons who had wronged him for, he said he had suffered for a crime of which he was not guilty. Did he mention any names? No. How much money did you give him? $10. From the telephone office, the detective went in his automobile to the old house on beach street. He stood on the sidewalk and inspected it. There was no sign on the house to indicate that the formerly handsome residence was for rent or for sale. All the windows were boarded, uptight. A man who lived next door, noticed Carter and coming up to his side, coughed nervously to attract his attention. Are you thinking of buying or renting this place? Is it for sale? The detective asked without answering the man's question. I don't know. I thought from the manner in which you were looking at it, that you had thought about renting or buying it. No sign has ever been up on the house. How long have you lived in this neighborhood? Oh, about 20 years. Then you are pretty well acquainted with it. That I am. How long has this house been uninhabited? Um, about 10 years, I think. Where you acquainted with the last tenant? Mm, I was Alfred Lawrence and his family lived there. Lawrence was sent to state prison on a charge of forgery. His wife and child moved away. And from that day to this, I never heard what became of them. Have you ever seen anyone visit the house? No, no one has ever come here. Was the furniture taken away. Yes. Then the house is evidently empty. Hmm. It is. Were you acquainted with Lawrence enough to know anything about his affairs. No, I'm sorry to say I was not. All I know is what I read in the newspapers at the time. Was he a man of considerable means. Well, I always thought so. Did you know Simeon rich? No. Not being able to secure any further information from the man. The detective walked away. Many thoughts, crowded his mind. And he asked himself innumerable questions in regard to the case. The prison keeper had told him over the telephone that Lawrence had only $10 in his possession when he left Sing Sing. And the bartender at the red dragon Inn had informed him that the man who had been murdered had displayed a large sum of money when he paid for the night's lodging. From whom had Lawrence received money. The detective asked himself as he pondered over this. He must've got money from someone. That was clear, but the bartender might've been mistaken. Nick told Danny to drive to a restaurant where he procured an excellent breakfast. Then he directed the chauffer to make a dash up to the grand central station where he hoped to find someone who had seen Lawrence leave the train and had noted the direction in which he went. What had Lawrence done from the time he left the Depot until pat McGuire saw him standing in front of St. John's church, looking into the church yard. Would the detective be able to follow his footsteps. Many would have looked upon such a task as Carter had set out to perform as hopeless. The railroad detective who was stationed at the Depot was unable to furnish Nick with any information. Carter made inquiries of the porters and others, but none of them remembered seeing any man who answered to Lawrence's description. Finally, he left the Depot and went outside to the cab stand. Here he commenced to question the drivers. At last, he found a man who in his reply to his question said, Yeah. I drove the old chap downtown in my cab. Do you think you'd be able to identify him? If you should see him again? Carter asked. Yeah, I do. The cabman answered. Will you come with me? What for? I want you to take a look at a man and see if he is the same person whom you drove downtown. I can't leave my cab. Then drive me down to the cosmopolitan hotel. Yeah, I'll do that. Nick sent Danny home, got into the cab and was driven away. He had his reasons for not telling the cabman anything about the case. Before he questioned him further. He wanted to see if the murdered man was the same person whom the man had had for a fare the previous day. The cab stopped in front of the cosmopolitan hotel and the detective alighted. He and the driver crossed the street and entered the red dragon in. To the chamber of death, the detective conducted his surprised companion. When they entered the room. Carter pointed to the corpse and asked. Is this the man. Dead. The cabin ejaculated as he started back after having glanced at the face of the murdered man. Yes sir. It is the man. All right. He has been murdered. Yes. Did you fetch me down here to place me under arrest? No. I know nothing about this. Come with me. I'll go with you, but I swear. They're there, my man, don't get excited. You will not be arrested, rest easy on that score. But..! Wait until we get outside. And then I will tell you what I want you to do. They returned to the cab and stood on the sidewalk near it. Carter was silent for a short time. Suddenly, he looked up into the pale face of the cabman and asked. Where did you drive him? Uh, you mean. The man stammered. The question had been asked. So suddenly that he was slightly confused. I mean the man whose body lies over there in the red dragon, in. Uh, well, I drove him down to the Manhattan safe deposit company. He got out of the cab, tell me to wait for him. And then he went into the building where he remained for nearly half an hour. When he came out, he paid and dismissed me. When he paid you, did he display any large amount of money? Yeah. He had quite a large size roll o' bills in his hand. Did you drive away immediately after you received the money for your services? I did. And did you not notice in which direction the old man went? He went back into the building. Chapter four. A peculiar interview. Carter lapsed into silence after the cab man had answered his last question. It was clear to him. Now that Lawrence had secured money at the Manhattan safe deposit company. Did he get the money out of a box, which he owned or from someone connected with a company? The detective proposed to find out. He happened to be acquainted with the cashier of the safe deposit company. So he ordered the cabin to drive him to the gentleman's house. Fortunately Carter found the cashier at home and he was received by him in the library. Were you acquainted with an Alfred Lawrence. The detective inquired of the cashier, as soon as he was seated. The gentlemen started in surprise and asked. Why'd you ask that question. I want information. Carter replied with a smile. He paused for a moment and then continued. I can see from the manner in which you started, that you knew Alfred Lawrence. Yes. I did know Alfred Lawrence. And I always regarded him as an honest man. In spite of the fact that he was tried and found guilty of forgery, I have always believed that he was innocent. But why do you come here asking about Lawrence? Lawrence was murdered at the red dragon in early this morning. No, it can't be true. The gentleman bounded out of his chair and standing in the center of the room, gazed at Carter with an expression of astonishment upon his face. It is true. Nevertheless. The detective replied. Uh, but I saw him yesterday. He had just been released from sing, sing prison. Please be seated and try to be calm. I want you to recall to your mind, all that occurred yesterday between you and Lawrence, it is important that you should remember everything. I will try and do what you request. The gentleman resumed his seat. And for some time he bowed his head, resting it upon his hand. The detective remained quiet. Patiently. He waited for the cashier of the safe deposit company to speak. He desired to let them have plenty of time in which to recall to his mind, all that had happened between him and the murdered man on the previous day. Finally, the gentleman raised his head and gazed intently into Carter's face. This is a great shock to me. He remarked as he passed his hand over his forehead. Uh, Lawrence came into my office about two o'clock. At first, I did not recognize him on account of the great change that had been wrought in him. When I learned who he was. I was glad to see him. He sat down and told me about his prison experience. In years gone by, we had been friends. When he was tried, I did what I could to help him. The evidence, however, was too strong against him and he was convicted. When he was sent to prison. He left in my care some securities to dispose of. I sold them and placed the money on deposit with the bank of north America. I wrote to him about it. And he said that he desired me not to communicate with him again until he should be free. Then he would call upon me. If I were to die. I was to provide in my will, that the money should be placed with some trust company for him. Well, as I said, he called on me yesterday. He asked me for $200 and I gave it to him. The gentlemen paused. How much was the full amount, asked Nick upon whom the cashier's information was making a clear impression of innocence on the part of Alfred Lawrence. About $7,000. The cashier answered. Did Lawrence talk about his family? He did not. Did he talk about anyone? All he said was that he intended to prove that he was not a forger. Did he say how he was going to do it? No. Were you ever acquainted with a Simeon rich? No. Is he living in the city? I don't know. And you don't know what became of Lawrence's wife and child. No, I do not. Did you know that Lawrence's house on beach street has remained vacant for years? No. When Lawrence left you, did he say where he was going? No, he did not. Did he say that he would call on you again? Yes. He promised to call and see me tomorrow. Did Lawrence run a safe deposit box? He did. He had one with our company. Did he open it yesterday? No. He told me that he intended to open it tomorrow. Did he have the key? He did. Do you know the number of the box? No, I do not. Tomorrow, I will find out the number for you. Can't you do so today. Why. I want to examine the contents of that box. You will have to wait until tomorrow. Mr. Carter, then I will get permission for you to open the box. Hmm. Well, I suppose I'll have to wait. I am sorry that I can't help you today. Hmm. So am I. Carter gave the cashier and account of the mysterious murder at the red dragon end. And then he departed, promising to call on him in his office the next morning. So far, he had progressed fairly well with the case. Though he had not secured any information, which would throw light on the mystery. The murdered man's identity was established and Carter had learned something about his history, but that was not much. Who could have committed the crime. Was Lawrence murdered by a common thief, or by one who is afraid of him and desire to put him out of the way. Carter asked himself these questions. He was not prepared to answer either one of them. He had discovered no clue. He had learned nothing upon which he could base a theory. leaving the cashier's house. He dismissed the cabman and hailing a taxi cab road home, where he went to his study and sat down to think. It was now evening. He had not wasted a moment since early in the morning, but he was not satisfied with his work. He had looked through the directory and had not been able to find in it, the name of the man who had been instrumental in sending Lawrence to state's prison. Did he have any suspicion that the man could have had anything to do with the murder? If he did not, then why was he so anxious to find out what had become of that man? He wished he had a more accurate description of the man who had entered the barroom of the red dragon in after Lawrence. That man may know nothing. He muttered as he thought about him. But nevertheless, I should like to find him. Who is he? What was he doing in the Inn? Did he simply step in to get a drink or did he follow Lawrence in. I'm puzzled. The detective arose from his chair and commenced to pace back and forth across the room. All the time he puffed away, vigorously on a cigar and blew the smoke out in a long stream. Whenever he was annoyed about anything he always smoked in this way. He was so deep in thought that he did not hear a knock on the door until the person without had knocked several times. Carter halted in the center of the room and called out. Come in. The door was opened by Nick's Butler and Peter Wright entered the room. At a glance, the detective saw that he was excited. I'm glad you are in Mr. Carter. Wright ejaculated, as he sank down in a chair. He was puffing and blowing from exertion and it was several minutes before he became composed. He mopped his brow with a large red bandana and laid his hat down on the floor by the side of the chair. It was a peculiar experience. He ejaculated looking at the detective. Very peculiar. Very peculiar. Mr. Wright had a rapid way of speaking when he was excited and he had a habit of repeating certain words and phrases to emphasize what he had said. It was deucedly peculiar. He repeated after a slight pause. Carter could not help smiling as he said, Mr. Wright, you forget that. I know nothing about it. That's oh, confound it. I am so excited. I can hardly collect my thoughts. But it was a deucedly peculiar experience. All the same. He replied. Tell me about it. I tell you about it. Oh, yes. Yes. So I will. Yes. Yes. Uh, peculiar. It was very peculiar. Hmm, no doubt. Try and collect your thoughts. I will. Mr. Wright mopped his brow for the 20th time, blew his nose and then rolling his bandana up into a ball, threw it into his hat saying as he rested his elbows upon the arms of the chair and lean forward. Mr. Carter. I think I have important information for you. That is what I want. The detective replied. Nick was perfectly calm. Not a muscle of his face moved, but those shrewd eyes of his sparkled, like two gems. It was this way. Mr. Wright continued after a momentary silence. After you left me. I returned to my room in the hotel and sat down to glance at the morning newspaper. I could not remain quiet for any length of time because my mind was dwelling continuously on the murder. Well, an hour past, I was pacing up and down the room, trying to recall to my mind, everything I had known and had heard about Lawrence. When there came a knock at my door. I called out for the party to come in at a tall, handsome stylishly dressed woman. Enter the room. I was taken by surprise and slightly confused. I thought that this the woman had mistaken my room for someone else's. But she looked at me very calmly and when I did not speak, she said, Are you not Mr. Wright? Instantly. I pulled myself together and acknowledged that I was the individual. I invited her to be seated. As far as I could remember, Mr. Carter, I had never seen the woman before in all my life. You are Mr. Peter, Wright. She asked again, as soon as she was seated and she placed considerable emphasis on Peter. Looking me straight in the eyes with such intensity as if she were endeavoring to read my most secret thoughts. My name is Peter Wright. I said, and I commenced to experience a creeping sensation all over me. Never before had I been in such a position. It may have been my imagination, but I thought she was making an effort to exert some influence over me. Well. That is neither here nor there it's a waste of time for me to go into details about my feelings. Go on. Carter interrupted. Tell your story your own way and do not make any attempt to abridge it. I am deeply interested. Yeah. Yes. Let me see. Ah, yes. As I said, I thought she was trying to hypnotize me. As soon as I said that I was Peter Wright. She asked, were you the owner of the red dragon in, at one time? I replied in the affirmative. And I saw a smile encircle, her lips. You don't remember me. She said after a pause. No indeed. I do not. I replied. I cannot recall that I ever saw you before. No doubt, no doubt. She murmured. She glanced around the room and ran her hand across her forehead. I have changed wonderfully. She went on 20 years, works wonderful changes in all of us. And she smiled with the sweetest smile I ever beheld upon the face of a woman. We all change. I interpolated and she replied. You are right. I was a girl when you last saw me and now I am a woman. Mr. Wright, do you not remember Isabella Porter? The instant she mentioned the name. I remembered her. Her parents used to live. A few doors away from the red dragon in. Her father was a produce merchant, When she was a small girl. I used to give her pennies to spend. Her father had died out of mother, moved out of the neighborhood. I lost track of them. And I had not seen nor heard of Isabella until she appeared in my room. To tell you the truth, Mr. Carter, even after she had told me who she was, I studied her face, but I could not see a line in it that was familiar to me. I believe she was Isabella Porter all the same. I told her that I remembered her name. And then for the time she was silent, she bowed her head and seemed lost in deep thought. Suddenly she glanced up at me. I've called to see you on a peculiar errand. She informed me. What is it? I asked. One night, about 10 or 11 years ago. She said a man called on you at the red dragon and gave you a package to keep. This man was a stranger to you. On the package was written the name of Edward Peters. You put the package in your safe and the man never called for it. She paused and fastened her eyes upon me, Mr. Carter, with that strange uncanny searching look, it was certainly peculiar, Mr. Carter very peculiar. I recall the incident distinctly, but something within me seemed to tell me to pretend ignorance about the package, to try and draw her out and find out what she was aiming at. So I said, no, I don't remember any such incident. Isabella Porter started and her face darkened. You don't she ejaculated in a tone of annoyance. No, I replied. I was perfectly calm now you see, and I had full command of my senses. Isabella eyed me closely, but I returned her gaze unflinchingly. Why I acted in this way? I cannot tell. An unseen force seemed to be guiding me. What did you do with the contents of your safe? She asked. When I sold the place I replied, I removed the contents of the safe. I placed the paper in a box and locked it up in the safe deposit vault. Since that time I have never looked at it, which was the truth. Then the package must be in your box. She ejaculated and her countenance brightened. Mr. Wright. I want that package. If it should be among my papers, I replied. I can't see why I should deliver it to you. It does not belong to you. She bit her lips with annoyance and exclaimed, I must get possession of that package, Mr. Wright. Why I asked. I can't tell you the reason why she answered you would not understand if I were able to explain. But Mr. Wright, please let me have that package. What is in it? I asked. I can't tell you. She replied. Oh, well, I said with a false laugh, it is nothing to me. Tomorrow I will hunt through my papers at the safe deposit company. And I will see if the package is among them. Can't you look today, she asked. No, I replied, today's a holiday and the vault is closed. Then I suppose I must wait, what time shall I call upon you tomorrow? She said, I answered about 11 o'clock. I will be here on time. She said, and she arose from her chair. Where are you living? I inquired. On west 19th street, she replied with your mother. No, my mother has been dead five years. She says I reside in a flat alone. Are you married? No, no, she laughed. I wanted to question her further, but I refrained. Then she departed. As soon as she was out of the room, I locked the door. I had lied to her, Mr. Carter. The box with the contents of my old safe in, it was not in the vault of the safe deposit company as I said, but it was resting under my bed. I pulled it out into the center of the room and unlocked it. I examined the contents and at last came across the package with the name of Edward Peters written across the face. It was still sealed. I broke the seals and tore off the wrapper. Another rapper was beneath. And upon it was writing. I read the endorsement. As the words appeared before my eyes, I was so overcome with excitement that I could not move or think for some time. Mr. Wright paused, looked at Carter, put his hand into the breast pocket of his coat. And pulled out a large package. What is in that package that Mr. Wright pulled out of his pocket. Who is Isabella Porter. And what part does she have to play in this tale? And who killed the old man? Alfred Lawrence. The answer to these and many other questions will be revealed in the next thrilling episode of toying with Fate or Nick Carter's narrow shave. Well friends. That's the end of today's episode. Quite a thrill. Isn't it. Please make sure to visit my, buy me a coffee patron page. There you can support the show with either a one-time small donation or you can subscribe to be a monthly supporter of the show. You can also find a blog that will contain information on this week's episode, overall stories and upcoming stories that I'm kicking around for future podcasts. I'd also like to remind you to leave a rating and, or a review on your favorite podcast platform. In case your platform doesn't allow that just visit the website@forwardintothepastpodcast.com for links to other platforms, the buy me a. Coffee page. And of course you can leave a review right there on the website as well. Nice. Then simple. Okay. And as usual, I have rambled long enough as always friends. Thanks for listening. Keep sharing the stories and be a good human. Bye for now.