His new neighborhood has positively got no inkling of who and what they got into around. For Mr. Smith surely knows his way to charm everyone. Specially the youngest daughter of the senator that he got a doting.

He is a towering, broad shouldered man with penetrating deep seated hazel brown eyes which you can't fathom the abyss of its depthness, whether it is smiling in approval or simply smirking with a precognition of something evil working inside its pools.

Cultured as he is, he can laugh and be gay at any conversation. Soon, he was the apple of the eye of the crowd. Little did they know as to why the favorite crowd of the senator was slowly diminishing in number in every party he was fond of throwing lavishly.

The next day, the senator himself found his daughter bathed in crimson red wading at her bathtub. Upon further police scrutiny, was discovered that she's missing a pinkie.

At the funeral, Miss Miriam, the senator's wife was hysterically mourning at the loss of a daughter but garb in a crimson black sleeve dress.

Mr. Smith arrived. All air was cut short. Eyes fixed upon him. As he sorrowfully approached the coffin and cried. To the utter shock of everyone, he open the lid, grasp the off white knuckles of the senator's daughter, kissed it and mournfully shouted, "who did you this?!!!!! "....

The senator's wife run to his side to pacify him and to reprimand him to pay respect to the dead as what many had expected.

She shoved Mr. Smith in a hugged like manner, and whispered conspiratorially, "I did."

Mr. Smith stared at Miss Miriam disdainfully as if she has just grown three heads.