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About This Book
His son committed the first murder seven years ago, he has been told. A bright boy, always so immersed in his studies; quiet, but not in a way that made this man worry; he found it hard to make friends at first, but soon learned; he learned to blend in, to make people like him.
A bright boy indeed.
The first was a woman with blonde hair; she had green eyes and pale skin. The police found her with the fingers missing from her left hand, all but the ring finger. She had a wedding ring, but this man’s son took it. ‘A trophy,’ his lawyer called it. ‘They found it in a box in his house; it still had traces of her blood on it.’
And now his flight has come to take him to his son's execution, to say goodbye to the horror he helped create.
A bright boy indeed.
The first was a woman with blonde hair; she had green eyes and pale skin. The police found her with the fingers missing from her left hand, all but the ring finger. She had a wedding ring, but this man’s son took it. ‘A trophy,’ his lawyer called it. ‘They found it in a box in his house; it still had traces of her blood on it.’
And now his flight has come to take him to his son's execution, to say goodbye to the horror he helped create.