You ever had a bully? Not the goofy kind you see on TV that hits you a few times and takes your lunch money—a real one. They don’t wear black leather jackets or football jerseys. No, I’m talking about the ones that wear the flesh of a lie, a mask of rehearsed humanity. There is a substantial difference between the methods of a teenage bully—possessing a juvenile mind littered with impulsivity and blameless naïveté that manufactures nothing more than a schoolyard tyrant—and a mature, fully developed intellect typified by subtle psychological manipulation. They focus very little on overt tactics of physical harm though they are not void of it entirely. That sort of affliction will heal with time, gradually fading away—or as an experienced economist might describe guaranteeing diminishing returns. Rather, he will plant seeds of doubt, fear, and betrayal, taking root in the brain like a cancer. Miniscule at first, you won’t even notice them, but gradually they’ll begin to grow and ripen into juicy tumors—irremovable and uncurable. That’s the power of compounding interest.

The Whodunit Diaries