She would take the items with her; bury the items and her bloodstained clothes in one of the many sinkholes in the huge landfill/garbage dump on the south side of town. “Just at present my mind simply won’t take hold of this at all. She turned her cheek to the cold sill; and by and by the sill grew warm and wet with tears. ‘Oh, peste, you make me late!’ She glared up at Roding. His reputation was slightly tainted by his marriage to her mother, an exotic blue-eyed raven-haired beauty, a Gypsy doll with a clandestine heritage.
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