CHAPTER TWENTY NINE
He toyed with the idea of sending another letter. He had almost left one on the body he’d left in the sculpture garden but felt that it might flaw the presentation. He sat at his kitchen table, wondering what he might put in another letter. He grinned when he thought of it.
Police are not ice skaters. They do not understand the cold. A stumble on the ice and the rat has gotten away.
Or something like that.
The image of the woman who had come after him at the reservoir remained constant in his mind. And the fact that the woman had slipped proved to him that he was meant to do this work. Even nature was assisting him, the ice finally realizing his affection for it.
But he also knew that the policewoman finding him at the reservoir meant that they would capture him so
