By Thom L. Jones
Early morning Thursday, Christmas Eve, 1992.
A maroon, four door, Mercury Topaz slows to a halt at traffic lights in Ozone Park, a suburb in Queens, New York.
The driver is a slim, dark-haired, dark skinned Italian-American. The passenger, his wife, is a diminutive, chubby, doe-eyed woman. She is thirty-one, three years older than her husband. They sit listening to the car radio,…
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