It’s funny how a man who hurts children can live a pretty mundane life. I spend most of the day following him and one of his mistresses around. He goes shopping at first, then goes to the club to play racketball and drink with his overly privileged friends. It’s not until late in the afternoon that he has his driver take him to a schoolyard a few miles from his club. I tighten my fists over the steering wheel as I watch the bastard take a seat on a nearby bench and observes the kids playing. It’s freaky and bold how he sits there and watches attentively. The bastard thinks that he’s untouchable, and I can’t wait to prove him wrong.
It’s late into the night when I find the opportunity to do it. He and his mistress are preparing for some kind of party they are holding for a rich banker. Be
