At this point the man in the mask addresses some final words to the convict and walks quietly to the other side of the platform, away from the guards and the priest.For a moment the tableau is still, the crowd is silent, and the rain stops. Suddenly a huge flash of lightning illuminates the centre of the town, and the characters on the structure are silhouetted against the brilliance of the light. As though this is a signal, the hangman, his dark eyes hidden in his black mask, pulls a lever, and the floor drops out from beneath the noose.The captive man falls through the trapdoor. His bound neck stops suddenly as the rope become tight. The rest of his body is unable to adjust so abruptly, and it continues the downward motion long enough snap his neck.By the time the body jerks to a halt, he is dead. The convict, so recently brutalised with boots and truncheon, is merely a carcass. The breaking of his body punishes an innocent, harmless man, destroys my faith in God, and makes me,. She'd had a chance to talk to Phillip that day. To remind him of how important this was to her,and to go along with whatever happened that night. She both hoped that nothing would,and that everything would. They took a cab to the address Vincent had given her. It was a large faux neo Gothic building, complete with a ironwork portcullis gate and swooping stonework arches on it's sides. She paid the driver and walked to the front door, beside the gate. She was buzzed in and they walked through a concierge's office, who then directed them to an outdoor courtyard. The center of the building had been hollowed out, to form a space of shadows and fountain with elegantly potted gardens throughout. Across the open space there was a set of elevators which the concierge had told her about. Taking Phillip's hand, she strolled past the fountain, called the elevator, and once inside signaled it to take them to the seventeenth floor. One of the penthouses. They stepped out of the elevator into a.
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