Wednesday, April 30, 2008

Malice Aforethought

She had done it.

With the precision of a cat, she gloated to herself. And the coppers would never know who, thanks to her ingenious leather gloves. All she had to do now was get rid of that glen check nonsense and the murder weapon, and luckily his building had a lit incinerator.

Take that, two-timing cur!

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