The Artist, by Michael Croban

Skillfully his hands worked. His craft was unparalleled. It was as if he was possessed by some higher power; God or the other one, he didn’t care. He made many pieces during his lifetime, but only five he considered good enough to bear his signature. He took his time with his latest piece, he played with it, finessed it, until he reached perfection. This time his signature was all over the place. His critics and fans alike will agree that he gave birth to the new century. The monster was never caught. Mary Kelly was his fifth and final victim.