Sarah Schweitzer

TOWNSEND, November 13, 2009, The Boston Globe — People here knew the man drove a silver Jaguar. They knew he lunched four days a week at Cliff’s Cafe, invariably ordering in a barely audible voice: carrot sticks, soup, and a sandwich. On Fridays, he splurged on turkey subs at Townsend Pizza. He lived in the wealthier next-door town of Groton and ran the biggest game in Townsend, a plastic household goods manufacturing company.

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