--In this snippet from Tearing the Shroud, we see our villain--

   Sitting on the edge of the lumpy mattress he clicked the remote. The TV popped on. It was the best part of the cheap hotel room. “Why do you click a remote?” he thought, “Nothing clicks on it.” He scratched his head, surely there was a memory floating around in here that had the answer. But he wasn't finding it. On the screen the blathering talking heads were spitting out their drivel again. “Of course, it's always a sunny day in the south land.” He got up and headed to the bathroom, “At least the facilities here are inside,” he said.
   He stared at his face in the mirror as he relieved himself, the florescent light gave his already sallow complexion a corpse like look. “Corpse like,” the thought made him chuckle as he shook out the last few drips. The TV droned on, “Up next! We look examine the rash of violent crimes that have happened in the last two weeks!” A woman's voice picked up at the man's pause, "Is it gang related, or the brutal work of a single individual!?” then more droning. 
   He leaned into the mirror for a closer look, “Shave, or not shave? What do you think Bill?” Bill wasn't being very talkative. “No thoughts?” He glanced at the bathtub where Bill spent the night, or at least the last few hours of it. He lay there in his t-shirt and boxers, his head off to one side, neck bent unnaturally. An apron of thickened blood covered his chest from the cut across his throat which had nearly decapitated him. “That’s the problem with the dead. They are usually such poor conversationalists,” he thought then continued aloud, “I suppose a shave will go better with my new suit. Thank you for that by the way.” He nodded politely at Bill. “Oh, and the credit cards, Rolex, Cadillac, cash, check book and, well, just everything. You certainly gave your all. ” He peered at first one side of his face then the other. “It’s a shame that convincing you took such a difficult turn.” Bending down, he retrieved the ball gag from the floor where he had dropped it earlier, kicking the pieces of Bill's amputated fingers to the side. He shook his head and sighed, “It could have been so much easier for you.” “That's the problem with the rich and powerful, they think their power extends everywhere or that their riches will buy them out of anything.” He picked up the sleek hunting knife and shook the tip in the direction of the bathtub while still examining himself in the mirror, “A lesson learned Bill, a lesson learned.”
   He lathered up his face with soap and shaved quickly, the knife gliding across his skin, never cutting anything but whiskers. “Ah, a good shave, glad we went that way. Don’t you think Bill?” After rinsing his face he washed off a bit using the sink then walked back into the dingy room. As he passed the TV, the blonde woman calmly described a home invasion in The Heights that left a wealthy couple dead. 
   “Their mutilated corpses were discovered this morning by the gardener where they had been posed in chaise lounges by the pool,” she spoke with a serious demeanor that never reached her eyes, her overly white teeth flashing.
   Singing tunelessly, “Busy, busy, busy.” he put on his new suit. He had chosen well, it was a perfect fit. “I told you we were the same size,” he called to the bathroom. The shoes were another matter, they were much too small. “First stop will be shopping today.” The money clip stuffed with hundred dollar bills went into his pants pocket. A folded knife went in one breast pocket and the calfskin wallet in the other. “Into the bathroom for one last check.” He looked in the mirror smiling. “Hi, I’m Bill, Bill Wilson.” He sheathed the hunting knife and put it into his newly acquired briefcase. 
   “Well, I’m off Bill, thanks again for everything,” he waved as he walked toward the door. “Oh my, I almost forgot.” Taking the wallet back out, he looked at the driver’s license. A much livelier Bill smiled up at him. “This won’t do,” he said, then ran his thumb over the photo. As it passed, the pictured faded out then back in. His face now occupied the ID. “There we are!” He stepped out and closed the door behind him.
   “It seems she was right, another sunny day in the south land.”