What strange compulsion drove an ordinarily gentle and cultured man, on onenight of each week, to roam the city streets andcommit a ghastly crime?
minute the knob was released and the footsteps continued down the hall to Carse's room.
Any attempt to explain my thoughts as I sat smoking throughout the night would only add to the confusion of these revelations. They were not sane and rational thoughts, but rather strange suggestions and premonitions. I thought myself to be in the presence of a tremendous evil.
In the morning Carse was up early, and moved back and forth in the corridor with strange industry. He was crying, for his sobs came disturbingly to my ears, and once I heard him descend into the cellar and there was a faint digging sound as he performed some outlandish task. Then I heard him in the hallway and on the stairs. I heard the splashing of water and the sound of scrubbing.
I pounded on the door for him to let me out, but it was not until nearly noon that he finished his chores and finally opened my door. He was stooped and fatigued, and without bothering to return my amenities, he turned away and went to his study.
Peirce's prose is a little dated, but still packs a punch in this tale of a serial killer and the man who tries to stop him. Worth the time.
* There have been a series of murders by beheading.
* Could your friend be involved.
* The diary: An account of murderous doings from the past. Could just reading the book send men mad.