and they're all made out of ticky-tack and they all look just the same

Spiegel International reporters interview the former neighbour of the Fugitive at her home and from her perspective in suburban Maryland.

The former neighbour's point of view is limited it seems to staring off at two rectangles, her window facing the former Fugitive's home, where his mother still resides after her son went cosmopolitan, and the television screen, and the view that these two outlooks offer recently became blurred and recursive. I don't know if it's the fame or infamy or the disruption to routine that transformed this woman into quite a Gladys Kravits nosy neighbour type—whom I'm sure tried to warn her skeptical husband in the same fashion about the goings-on next door, or maybe she was always this way. Proximity always gives a face, voice and testimony to widely-held beliefs, but beyond any espionage or detective-work that the reclusive neighbour—to her mind, was engaged in, the article is a brilliant and absorbing look at the predominant and influential American psyche