A Story From America August 14th 1960, I was working late at the office that night. It was like one of those nights that gives you shiver, when you think about them. The cold air was tickling me in the neck, when it slowly blowed into the room from the open window. The lights from the street made me so annoyed that I hartly could find and read the papers I was looking for. Finally I found them, they were hiding in my personal archive of cases connected with murder. My attention suddenly breaks when my secretary, a young talented woman with many unusual skills, approaches the office. She always talks, normaly I just pretend to listen, but this time I could feel something was different