She went about the gory business of disposing of the bodies, cutting them up with a large butcher knife and packing the light dry pieces of their bloodless remains in a double ply garbage bag, pieces that looked like overcooked, ruined meat. “Here we are, living in the same suburb,” he began. “One has such ridiculous ideas of the wicked common people and the beautiful machinery of order that ropes them in. ’ ‘Willingly?’ ‘Parbleu, what a person you think me. His curiosity, his literary instincts, had been submerged by the recurring thought of the fool he had made of himself.
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