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PROLOGUE
PERFECT CRIMES
CASANOVA
Boca Raton, Florida, June 1975
FOR THREE weeks, the young killer actually lived inside the walls of an extraordinary fifteen-room beach house
He could hear the whispery Atlantic surf outside, but he was never tempted to look out at the ocean or the private white-sand beach that stretched to three hundred feet orthe shore There was tooplace inside the dazzling Mediterranean- revival-style house in Boca His pulse hadn’t stopped ha for days
Four people lived in the huge house: Michael and Hannah Pierce and their two daughters The killer spied on the family in the most intimate ways, and at their s about the Pierces, especially Hannah’s delicate seashell collection and the fun fleet of teak sailboats that hung frouest rooms
He watched the elder daughter, Coty, day and night She attended St Andrews High School with hiirl in school was as beautiful or as s his eye on Karrie Pierce She was only thirteen, but already a budding fox
Although he was more than six feet tall, he easily fit into the air-conditioning ducts of the house He ire thin and hadn’t started to fill out yet The killer was handsome in an Eastern preppy way
Stashed in his hiding place were a handful of dirty novels, highly erotic books he had found during fevered shopping trips to Miami He had become addicted to The Story of O, School Girls in Paris, and Voluptuous Initiations He also kept a Smith and Wesson revolver in the walls with him
He went in and out of the house through a casementin the cellar that had a broken latch Soently purring Westinghouse refrigerator, where the Pierces kept extra beer and soda pop for their gala parties, which often ended with a bonfire on the beach
Truth be told, he was feeling a little extra weird that night in June, but nothing to worry about No problems
Earlier in the evening, he had handpainted his body in bright streaks and splashes of cherry red, orange, and cadmium yellow He was a warrior; a hunter
He huddled with his chrorope-books in the ceiling over Coty’s bedrooht on top of her, so to speak
Tonight was the night of nights The beginning of everything that really mattered in his life
He settled in and began to reread favorite passages froht on the pages The book was definitely ayuk It was about a “respectable” French laho paid a buxohts inside a hotsy-totsy boarding school for girls The story was filled with the hokiest language: “his silver-tipped ferrule,” “his faithless truncheon,” “he gairls”
After a while he got tired of reading, and peeked at his atch It was ti as he put the book aside and peered through the cross-hatching of the grill
He could barely catch his breath as he watched Coty in bed The very real adventure was now before hiined it