imagine he—or she—didn’t want to look upon the face of his victim,” I said. “It’s possible he didn’t want to think of her as a person.” “Very good,” Uncle said. “What else?” Ignoring the blood smeared on the body, I focused on the stab wounds. Whoever had committed this act had been enraged. There were so many punctures, it appeared as if they’d struck her again and again and again. Each encounter with the blade more brutal than the last. They were furious, but whether or not that fury was directed at the victim or simply projected onto this woman was a mystery. The murderer could have slit
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