Husband Killer

Mr. Amos Lee Mappin was breakfasting by the fire in the immense living room of his apartment. With the steam heat, a fire was not in the least necessary, but he enjoyed it. The date was November 4th. During the pleasant fall days it was Lee’s habit to turn off the steam, open the windows and toast himself in front of the cheerful blaze. “I am a primitive creature,” he would say, which was one of his innocent affectations. Nothing could have been farther from the truth ...