The Secret of the Viaduct

Prologue

The wind blew coldly that night, funneling through the arches of the viaduct like a distant scream. The moon, veiled by clouds, cast a dim light on the deserted road. The only signs of life were the dead leaves dancing in the cold air and the sound of hurried footsteps. A man walked alone, his face hidden by a hood that protected him from the damp and, perhaps, from unwanted glances.

Every step was a steady pounding on the asphalt, as he drew ever closer to his destination. The viaduct stood out against the sky like a great shadow. This was where everything was supposed to end. The man stopped under the central arch, checking his wristwatch. The hands showed 10:13 PM. He bent down to adjust something on the ground, then stood up suddenly, breathing heavily in the silence of the night. Something had struck him. A noise? A shadow? It was too late to run away.

Hours later, police sirens broke the silence of the night. Under the viaduct, illuminated by the intermittent lights of the flashing lights, lay the lifeless body of a man. His watch had stopped at exactly 22:13