"They call me that," he replied, sliding his notepad open. "But the rain calls me soaked. What’s your name, madam?"
"Tintin!" Phono wheezed. "Pocket didn't take the tape. He was hired muscle. The real thief is a ghost. A white woman. They call her 'The Albino Marmoset.' She wears a mask of a laughing monkey. She moves through the city's underground drainage tunnels." enugu tintin
That night, Tintin visited Pocket’s scrap yard. It was a rusting cathedral of stolen car doors and melted cables. As he crept past a mound of crushed tin roofs, he heard a voice humming the bassline of “The Ebony Coal.” He peeked inside a shipping container. "They call me that," he replied, sliding his notepad open