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Showing posts from May, 2022

The Early Nineties

  The government newspapers—a daily tabloid and a broadsheet, The Orb and The Inquisitor —were open under their noses. Pictures of the exterior of the latest murder house, along with photographs of the victims extracted from their Asylum patient files, took prominence on the front pages. The headlines screamed: Butchery in Lie , Death in the Community , Fresh Murders , with the promise of more details and further pictures—shots of the butchered corpses—on the inside pages. As ever, the press had their sources, and a scurrilous police photographer had provided the goods. The fifteen minutes of morning break was almost up and by now an audible buzz was about the room on the subject of these murders most foul. People were animated by the heinous crimes. Joe and Mordechai began to vent on the topic, too. —“I hope they get the fucker soon,” was Grudge’s contribution to the discussion. “He must be one sick bastard! Look at the details, he chopped them to bits.” —“I wouldn’t count on the...