EPILOGUE
FROM A WINDOW high up in the Asgard Park Institute for the Criminally Insane, Birger Wallenberg looked out over the morning meadows. Autumn was in residence with winter on its breath.
He thought about the bygone summer.
To the rational mind, nothing in that colorful tapestry showed the secret thread that held together the fabric. That is how it should be. Insanity is part of nature, a glitch in the system. How the rich spend their fortunes, or evil people earn their living, exempts none from the laws of nature.
A delivery van was parking on the gravel drive in front of the Victorian building. The delivery man hoisted a box of newly baked bread to his shoulder and gazed upwards upon the edifice.
Through the youngster’s eyes, Wallenberg saw himself; a naked man at a window high
