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He ducks in and out of the small brick sandwich shops and coffee bars, passing the hair salon and the little metal statue of two geese.Everything is as it was that June day when Mark carried the six-inch knife they had bought together.

Blood pooled inside the boy's body cavity, and this restricted the movement of his diaphragm, which stopped the functioning of his lungs.Early 20s, wearing a black hooded jacket and black jeans.An all-points bulletin was issued by Detective Chief Inspector Julian Ross, 43, a terse, authoritative figure with an iron jaw and a manner to match.No madman in a hooded jacket, the authorities quickly realized, would ever be found. A closed-circuit camera at the base of the alley had recorded all the foot traffic.As the boys disappeared into the alley, that camera swung around and followed them.Every story John spun on the chat-room site, every slithering creation dropped into the ocean of the Internet, Mark avidly reeled in.

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