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...