orley Munson had taken over the family business at the age of thirty, a month or so after his father passed away. There had been some concern during an autopsy that was performed (at a local detective’s request) because of discoloration in Mr. Hubert Munson’s fingertips but it was ultimately decided that he had died of natural causes rather than from anything more directly suspicious.
Morley Munson was not a natural-born salesman and he found it difficult to keep up appearances (and make ends meet). What little money he did bring in fromsales went into his mother’s purse and he was left with a few coins in his pocket and a wish for better days caught deep at the back of his throat.
Morley Munson didn’t hate traveling, mind you. He spent long hours in the car, and
he would happily go well out of his way sightseeing while on a business trip. He was usually berated by his mother for always being late and never selling enough, and he learned early in life to simply bow his head (and nod) when she got worked up into one of her rages.Morley Munson never meant to hurt her, of that he remains quite certain. He didn’t so much push her down the stairs as push her away from himself at the top of those stairs—it was her own fault that she lost her balance and plunged over the railing and to the landing below. This happened late one night and after checking to see if she was still alive (she was), Morley Munson crawled into bed, slept throughout the night quite soundly, then woke and calmly called the authorities.
Morley Munson wept at his mother’s funeral. A thick blanket of tears for the woman who never loved him.
Chapter 3 — The Past.Chapter 5 — The Woman