![]() ![]() Just a businessman on his way to the office, they would assume. Despite the cold, only the bottom two of his four overcoat buttons had been fastened. His dark hair was short, his beard neatly trimmed. In his left hand he carried a metal briefcase. He was smartly dressed-a long woolen coat over the top of a dark gray suit, black leather gloves, thick-soled Oxford shoes. He felt their gaze upon him, taking in his appearance for the few short seconds before he’d gone. He interrupted the group’s banter as he passed through the spiraling cloud of exhaust fumes condensing in the spring air. ![]() Refuse collectors followed the vehicle, hands buried under armpits while they waited to reach the next pile of trash bags on the sidewalk. Yes, a particularly good morning to kill.Īhead of him a refuse truck made its slow way along the road, hazard light flashing orange, windshield wipers swinging back and forth to flick away the drizzle. He walked at a relaxed pace, in no hurry, knowing he was making perfect time. Impenetrable gray clouds obscured the sun and the city beneath was dark and quiet. ![]()
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