The Killing Man

The Killing Manit was a stormy afternoon and he had an appointment--with a corpseSome days hang over Manhattan like a huge pair of unseen pincers slowly squeezing the city until you can hardly breathe. A low growl of thunder echoed up the cavern of Fifth Avenue, and I looked up to where the sky started at the 71st floor of the Empire State Building. I could smell the rain. It was the kind that hung above the orderly piles of concrete until it was soaked with dust and debris, and when it came dow...