The Puppeteer's diary ~ 8 ~
I'm sitting in a cafe not far from the mansion. Five days have already passed, and it seems that someone has pushed the panic button at last. Police are breaking the doors. "Oh, poor old men, what an awful death". They have chosen it themselves, so there is no need to be sorry for them. For police it is an accident, for newspaper readers - tragic case. For me it is a transition to the new phase of the plan.
