orley Munson had disposed of bodies before. Many corpses had piled up in the life of this quiet man and he had always found a way to get rid of the remains. The lady in his car, however, was going to take some doing.
She was an enormous thing–at least three hundred pounds if not more–and Morley Munson knew next to nothing about how
to handle a chainsaw or an axe or one of
the many tools he might use to help him dismember her. He had fantasized about using these things (of course), but he had never actually used any in his life as a killer.
Morley Munson had barely got her inside his Mercedes after stabbing her at the rest stop near the highway. He had driven her out to a wooded area where he had dug a grave for a young hitchhiker he’d killed
(a few weeks previously). The ground was soft there and the foliage thick and he knew it was a safe place to dispose of a body, even a mountainous one like this.
Morley Munson took off his suit jacket and carefully folded it in half. He placed it on the driver’s seat and, using all his middle-aged strength, pulled the massive woman from his trunk and began to push and roll her along the path toward a final resting place. He snagged her face on an upturned root
(at one point) but after some effort he was
able to untangle her eye socket from the offending plant and continue on his way.
Morley Munson returned to his car, filthy and tired and anxious. He carried one of the fat woman’s hands in a baggie, having been told to do so in a note that arrived by mail
at his office (that morning).
Chapter 41 – The Waiting.Chapter 43 – The Confrontation