40
SOMETIMES IT WORKS OUT, SOMETIMES NOT
Liza was coming out of the grocery store when she overheard the rumour of the latest killing. She was walking down the street and two women were talking on a doorstep as she came towards them.
“They say ‘e’s a proper executioner,” one woman was telling the other.
As Liza drew near, they stopped talking. One nodded a greeting of sorts.
She looked at them. The grime was deeply engrained. The shawls wrapped around their heads were grubby and faded. The eyes deeply wrinkled. They looked like old women. Each held a tiny infant close to her bosom. Liza knew they were far younger than they appeared. She was embarrassed because they fell silent at her approach.
The women shuffled a little uncomfortably. They were in no doubt that Liza was connected to
