About the book: year / It was a good morning to kill. Impenetrable gray clouds obscured the sun, and the city below was dark and silent. Cold. How he liked it. He walked at a relaxed pace, taking his time, knowing he was walking perfectly. A light rain began. Yes, especially good morning to kill. A garbage truck moved slowly down the road ahead, orange hazard lights flashing, windshield wipers swinging back and forth to chase away the drizzling rain. The garbage collectors followed the vehicle with their hands tucked under their arms as they waited to get to the next pile of garbage bags on the sidewalk. They chatted and joked among themselves.