Manhunt. Volume 13, Number 5, September 1965

Начало книги

It was an obsession. This man had died in the woods, in a cabin, all alone. When they found him, the rats and weasels had...

It was late afternoon when Miss Dolly Freeman saw him come running up from the cold low-ground waving his arms, Aubrey Gilliam from across the frozen creek. Miss Dolly drew water from the well and gave him a dipperful in the yard when he got there. Aubrey drank in large gulps, belching.

“Is something awfully wrong, Aubrey?” She remembered the hounds singing all night and half the day. “Did Little Billy Boy get worse?” Aubrey rolled his blue eyes round and exhaled steam. So Billy Boy was finally dead. It seemed a curse upon the Gilliams. “Aubrey, I feel sorry for you... first Liza, now Billy. Come inside, have something strong to drink before you catch your death of cold.” They were both thirty years old; they had known each other all their lives, Aubrey and Miss Dolly.

Читать дальше →