He likes hands. He likes their comfortable shape and weight and size. He likes the portability of the hands once they are severed from the rest of the ponderous body. He might carry them in his coat pocket, carry them to where he works, to the cafe, the park. But really, The Handyman isn't a selfish sort, the hands are for someone else, someone without proper hands of their own. And besides, the "donors" never felt any pain, they barely even bled. The Handyman had worked out every detail.
Chicago Police Detective Ryne Lanark figured out the handless corpse probably deserved what he got, that he had violated some sacred code. When a second handless body was found, Lanark knew there would be more, that the slaughter was just beginning. Forensics warned him that the killer was brilliant - amazingly, the victims died of heart attack, not blood loss.
As the body count rises, lunatics from all over Chicago begin confessing to the murders. Then, a woman claiming to have escaped The Handyman comes forward. Her description is too precise to be faked. She could be the key to the whole case...or bait set by the Handyman. Either way, Lanark will meet The Handyman...alone.