A hunched little man in a dark suit walked into Munro's hardware store in Edmonton last week and asked for 80 feet of seven-eighths inch sisal rope. The woman clerk who waited on him paid scant attention to the $11 sale. So far as she knew, the wispy customer was just another farmer, in town for the day, buying rope to break a balky horse or fix a hay lift in the barn.
The rope served a more somber purpose. By nightfall it had been expertly cut and knotted into two nooses that swayed from the main beam of...
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