She stole the opportunity to peer at his departing figure from the closed curtains of the front room window, his shoulders slumped forward, his posture and his ego slightly deflated. It would be a great matter, I must own, to bring Jonathan Wild to justice. His eyes caught at hers with passionate inquiries. Detention would mean coming home late, which spelled distraction and trouble on the night of a kill. His only warning was a gleam of silver in the faint spill of light from the house above. I waited until he was asleep and then I tied him up with some duct tape and some old rope he had in the shed.
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