Confessions of a Gentleman Killer

The papers call me “the gentleman killer.” I wrapped the throat of my first victim in the silk scarf with which I strangled her. That’s what passes as a gentleman these days.

I ask you: How do you reconcile a man who is capable of deep, tender love (because I’ve felt it), a man, who—by public standards—is a health reformer, assistant to the future British Prime Minister ,and the son-in-law of a wealthy industrialist, but who, when the moment overtakes him, kills women? I don’t know what to make of it myself, but that’s me. I’ve been told I have a philosopher’s mind, that I’m ambitious and can do anything I set my mind to—but sometimes my sadomasochistic tendencies get the better of me.
I don’t venture judgement—on myself or anyone else. I’ll leave that up to you.

My name is Kilcairn, and these are my confessions.

Ziarele ma numesc „ucigasul domnilor”. Am infasurat gatul primei mele victime in esarfa de matase cu care am sugrumat-o. Asta se intampla in zilele noastre ca domn. Va intreb: cum reconciliati un om care este capabil de o iubire profunda, tandra (pentru ca am simtit-o), un om care - dupa standardele publice - este un reformator al sanatatii asistent al viitorului prim-ministru britanic si ginerele unui industrial bogat, dar cine, cand momentul il depaseste, ucide femei?