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Page 132
''It was over there, inside the door to the kitchen."
"And you knew he was dead the moment you saw him?"
The Markle woman didn't hesitate. "Oh, yes sir, I knew it right away. He was all funny colored and bloated up. And, his head, it . . . " Her voice faded away, and Machino understood the nightmare she was reliving.
"What about your friend, Miss Salem?"
Rosemary Markle's eyes began to cloud up. A single tear traced its way down her hollow cheek and dropped off onto her purse.
"For some reason, I knew I was supposed to go in her bedroom. I just knew somethin' would be terrible wrong. I could feel it. You know what I mean?"
Machino stayed after it. "Try to describe what you saw."
"She was layin' there in the middle of that big bed of hers. She was wearin' her pretty morning robe, but I could see her body was all broken up. There was this awful red crusty stuff all over her, all over the bed. She looked worse than that poor man layin' by the kitchen door."
Peter Machino cleared his throat. He put away his notepad and stood up. He felt compassion for the poor woman. He didn't know what he felt for the victims; he had never met

 
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