I am the Whistler, and I know many things before I walk by night. I know many strange tales hidden in the hearts of men and women who have stepped into the shadows. Yes, I know the nameless terrors of which they dare not speak. And now, fell in green. The quiet of the late night was broken only by the rapid click of a woman's heels on the sidewalk of the street that only an hour before had bustled with traffic and passing pedestrians. Nola Norton stopped for a moment and loo…