by Roger Rapel
His offices were in New York State, not far from Buffalo. I made an appointment to see him through his secretary; the only free date for some time was the following day due to a cancellation.
I let Christopher know I was having a few days away researching another case.
The drive to Buffalo would take a good three and a half hours on a good day depending on traffic. I left home having packed an overnight bag in the early hours of the morning to make the midday appointment. Just before I set off I made a coffee in styrene cup and placed the lid on to keep it warm and not spill.
It was pitch black when I set off, the traffic was light so I managed to get through Cleveland on highway 90 without any problem. The coffee was welcome as it served to keep me awake, but inevitably it ran out. So at a truck stop I had it refilled and used their rest room.
The early start hid the greenery, but as the sun rose it was a welcome sight to view the trees and fields. On occasions I had a glimpse of Lake Erie, but mostly just trees and fields. I thought to myself as I drove, how big this country really was, Lake Erie was small in comparison to the other great lakes, but it went on and on like an inland sea.
When I reached the outskirts of Hamburg I pulled into a truck stop, I was making good time so had a welcoming breakfast. I took a rest before setting off again. It gave me a chance to stretch and reflect without the risk of losing concentration on the road. I wanted to know how I would open up with Miller and how I would explain the reason I was there. I knew what to say, but it would sound too corny to say I have a friend; but that’s what Christopher was, well not quite a friend, but good acquaintance. I sat contemplating and mentally rehearsing my opening words; once I got started I would be fine.
Once refreshed and the rest room visited I continued onto Buffalo. I looked at the instructions of how to get to Millers offices then eventually found them.
As I entered the plush looking office I was greeted by an elderly woman who asked me to take a seat offering me coffee, but I was full of coffee, so kindly declined the offer.
Even after the stop with breakfast and stretching I was still a little early for my appointment so picked up a magazine and scanned the pages. I turned them over not really interested in the articles just passing the time.
After a while an inner door opened as Mark Miller invited me in. Once in the confines of his office we shook hands as he invited me to sit down. He was a tall man with greying hair at the temples. His suit was quite old, but looked expensive. I noticed his shrine, which had numerous diplomas in gold and silver; they were all in the line of his work, psychology and criminology. It certainly made a very impressive display.
Miller sat behind his desk placed his hands together interlocking his fingers resting them on the table which had a green leather inlay which was held in place by brass studs which lined the edges, he cleared his throat as he said ‘How can I help you?’ I then unloaded the story as I knew it so far, I had rehearsed it, but it still came out wrong, as I said ‘I have a friend.’ Then I outlined in a cut down version the story as told to me.
Miller looked at me and said ‘wow, that is some story, and it’s not over yet?’ ‘No its not and where it’s going I don’t know, Christopher is really struggling, he’s really troubled by it.’ ‘That is not surprising; what do you want from me?’ ‘I have no idea I just thought you could unravel this in some way or even confirm if you have heard of this before?’ ‘Well I could unravel or at least attempt to. But the human mind is a fragile machine. I would need to spend many hours with Christopher and I’m sorry to say I don’t have that amount of time to spend at the moment; it would probably take weeks if not longer trying to delve into the inner depths of his mind to try and reach his psyche and unlock it, but as with all aspects of life there is no guarantee.’
Miller went onto say ‘even if I did have the time which I don’t, I would need a hotel to stay in. The hotel bills alone would be expensive not to mention expenses for food etc. Then there’s my time to be paid for and the research of other cases etc. Unfortunately as said my time is already fully booked; it is a shame as it sounds like a very interesting case.’
Miller then flipped up an address file on his desk saying ‘although due to distance and my time being fully booked I can’t help, but don’t be too disappointed as I think I may be able to point you in the direction of a local Psychiatrist who has recently moved to Ohio and is equally qualified as myself and just perhaps she may be able to help you also at a lower cost due to her being local.’
I felt the journey had been a waste of time, although I might have the name of another who could help. Miller wrote down the number on a piece of paper and said ‘her name is Angela Turner; she is very qualified equal to my own credentials. She may be able to look at this case for you.’
I thanked Miller and shook his hand as I said my goodbyes then drove for a while but tiredness was creeping up on me so decided to stop at a motel for the night before completing the journey the next day.
I grabbed a bite to eat at a Diner then went to my room where I lay in bed going over the story as told me by Christopher. What else was to come; the story so far was horrific in itself without any more drama. Finally I drifted off to sleep, but had nightmares about the woman being carved up alive for dinner. The image wouldn’t leave me; although I couldn’t understand why the local papers or the police had no reports about it. This would have made headline news all over the country. The papers and newscasters loved this kind of gory detail, it made headline news; selling papers and increasing viewers on various TV news channels.
The morning came as I stretched then showered. I had a bowl of cereals in the makeshift restaurant before tackling the drive home. My head was still full of why’s and wherefores, but still no answers. I should have been admiring the view on the route home, but it was a blur; all my thoughts were about Christopher and what was coming next.
I stopped off for a proper breakfast at another truck stop; I was starving hungry after the restless night. Truck stops were the best value for money, nothing fancy just good wholesome food. I ordered eggs bacon and hash browns, I poured lashings of brown sauce over it; all washed down with coffee. I patted my stomach had a stretch then made my way. I was now feeling almost human again.
Once at home I made more coffee. I threw the clothes from my overnight bag into the washing machine together with others from the washing basket as I set the program.
I sat at the table looking out the number given to me for Angela. There was nothing for it, no time like the present as they say. I rang the number, but as soon as it began to ring it went straight to answer machine, so I left a brief message including the recommendation by Miller.
Then I sat reading my notes. I just couldn’t get out of my head that this was going to be some kind of massive wind-up and I was the hub of the joke. No matter what I thought the horrific scene of the woman being carved up and eaten alive just wouldn’t leave me.
I was in the middle of writing some notes still retaining the image in my head about the woman when the phone rang. I nearly jumped out of my skin as I had the image of Camilla slicing through the flesh of the poor woman strapped down and screaming. I picked up the receiver then answered it. The voice on the other end said ‘hi this is Angela you called me, how can I help you?’ I then gave a brief explanation of my trip to Millers office and his personal recommendation. Angela then said ‘I’m sorry my earliest date for a consultation is in two weeks-time.’ I then made an appointment to meet in her downtown office.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The following day I met up again with Christopher, we sat down, as I looked across at him his head was in his hands, his eyes had bags under them, enough for weekly shopping as they hung so low, with wrinkles dragging them down.
‘You okay Christopher?’ ‘Just tired, so, so tired.’ I looked at him he was such a sorry looking guy; in some ways pathetic looking. Whatever had happened to him, it had dragged him way down into some twilight world wher
e he never slept; he just sat reliving the horrors each day and night
I took out my note book from my briefcase and opened to a new page, then had to refresh my memory from where we left off. I asked if he was okay to carry on where we had left off. Christopher looked at me he didn’t even have the strength or so it seemed to answer, he just nodded his head.
I reminded him where we had got to as I read from my notes. I looked up as I saw tears forming in his eyes again. He wanted me to give him a moment. He took out a crumpled piece of tissue from his pocket and blew his nose then wiped his eyes.
He then confirmed with a nod he was ready to carry on. I saw him shuffle in his seat as he prepared himself for the interview to continue.
Christopher started again explaining he was laid on the bench with just a sheet over him, blindfolded and gagged. As far as he could remember he still had the earphones on, if not they had been on. He didn’t want to hear those screams again. That scream chilled him to the bone and to think he had been eating the flesh of that poor woman. He felt so sick, when he thought of it, all those screams had been because Camilla was cutting slices of flesh from that poor woman then preparing his food. He had been eating the woman alive; she was being kept alive for him to eat.
Christopher then blew his nose again and wiped his eyes of the tears that were running down his cheeks. Then he continued filling in the gaps; ‘I saw the light from underneath my blindfold as I felt my bowels loosen at the thought of what was to become of me. The women weren’t going let me go, I was going to be served up for dinner to someone just like the poor woman had been served up to me, oh my god I was so cold I was shivering with fear I thought I was going to piss myself.’
I saw his eyes water again as he wiped his nose on his tissue. Then he carried on. ‘I tried to make a noise the best I could with the gag in my mouth. When the earphones and gag were removed I told the women I needed to go to the toilet. Then Camilla made some really derogatory statement, about me wanting to shit her out after he’d finished eating her. That made me feel sick, she had really hit me deep inside with that remark.’
He took a few moments get himself composed again then he tried to carry on as he coughed; I handed him a cup of water which he drank in one go.
Christopher coughed again then continued ‘I could feel my restraints being released the leather straps had been so tight they left deep indentations in my wrists. This was going to be my chance, but to my surprise I could feel handcuffs being applied. I will always remember that ratchet sound as they were snapped on. Then I was led blindfolded to a toilet, it was not far away as I heard the door open then Camilla told me to turn around and back-in until I felt the toilet then sit down.’
I asked Christopher if he saw anything in the toilet. He looked at me as he nodded, saying ‘I managed to move the blindfold a little bit; the bathroom was a blue décor with white and blue tiles and blue paint.’ He continued; ‘how I had held onto my bowels till then I’ll never know because as soon as I sat down I was running on empty; everything just went all in one go. It stank to high heaven. No sooner had I finished when the door opened as Camilla came in she pulled him up then sat me down on a bidet and operated the jets.’
Then Christopher explained his thoughts ‘as I sat on the bidet thinking this was going to be my time, if I could somehow in-between the releasing of the handcuffs and being re-strapped to the bench make my move; I couldn’t fight two women with handcuffs on, I needed to be free.’ Then he continued ‘I was led back into the room, the stench was horrible; I felt Camilla feeling for the handcuffs, then I heard a click as one of the cuffs was released, that was it.’ Christopher looked at me his eyes were wide open as he continued. ‘I pushed her out of the way as I lifted the blindfold. The other woman attacked me with a carving knife as I broke free, I managed to fend her off; then I punched her hard in the face as she attacked me, her nose split wide open as blood splattered all over the place as she crumpled to the floor completely knocked out cold.’
I saw Christopher wring his hands together as he continued; ‘I heard a noise; then looked over to the woman on the bench who’s eyes were bulging as she tried to speak, but the gag in her mouth prevented the words from coming out. Then I realised what she was trying to say as I saw Camilla coming at me with a meat cleaver held high above her head; she came at me screaming, her eyes bulging her mouth open and taught as she rushed at me. My heart was pounding, my eyes were on stalks as Camilla was coming at me to finish me off; I tried to back off as far as I could, then I felt the trolley where the woman was strapped-on up against my legs. I couldn’t back up any further I was now trapped.’
I looked at Christopher confirming if he was okay? He nodded as he carried on; ‘Camilla was howling like some demented creature.’ Christopher took a sip of water then looked at me with his eyes all red and dilated then he continued.
‘There was no doubt that the cleaver was aimed at my head, I could see the downward stroke as it began to fall; it was now or never, move too soon and she would follow me, too late and my head would be caved in. I timed it just right; the downward swing was beyond the point of no return as I just managed to side step the cleaver as it came down with tremendous force. Then I heard a thud; I looked and saw that the cleaver had gone through the neck of the woman on the trolley, her head was just about hanging on by a couple of tendons, she was dead; I saw her twitch and kick her feet in a nervous reaction.’
I could see this was hard for Christopher to recall; he coughed then drank some more water then continued. ‘Before Camilla could recompose herself I hit her in the side of the head knocking her to the ground out cold. I found the key to the handcuffs and released the other cuff. Then found some clothes I quickly dressed and ran out into the street, I found a passer-by and asked him to call the police for me, but he hurried away down the street.
Christopher took another drink of water, his hands shaking as the water spilled over the rim of the cup. Christopher looked at me; ‘no one would help me they all hurried on by. I knocked on the doors of houses pleading for someone to help me. I needed to call Helga, I needed her, god how I needed her.’
Christopher in between tears said ‘I then caught my reflection in a window of a house I was banging on the door of; my face was covered in blood, so were my hands. There was nothing for it but to back track to the street with the shops on, then get someone to call the police. I didn’t want to go back to that house I wanted to get as far away as I could. I stood still trying to remember the way I had entered the street; everything was a distant blur. My memory was so glazed over; the night I had entered the street had been so wet and windy with driving rain I couldn’t remember; I was so confused and frustrated.’
Christopher looked at me shaking his head as tears continued welling up in his eyes as he said. ‘It was strange there were no people or cars in the main street everything was quiet. Where was I for god sake, someone help me please;’ I could see his eyes rolling as tears cascaded down his cheeks.
Christopher then looked down at the desk then covered his face with his hands as he began shaking his head from side to side.
I stayed quiet as I watched him; I could hear the cogs in his head turning over and over as his mind was trying to make sense of it all. Then he continued; ‘all of a sudden I saw a police car. I raised my hand and ran out into the road I waved the police car down; I wasn’t going to move; run me down if they wanted to, but I wasn’t moving. The black and white stopped as two burly officers got out; one had a gun pointed at me the other came around from the side. They asked me for ID, but I didn’t have my own clothes on, I told them it had been stolen. I was trying to explain that I had been trying to get in touch with them, but no one would help me.’
Christopher then explained how he was placed in the back of the police car then he began to tell them the story. Their eyes said it all as he explained. His story was going straight over their heads, one of the officer’s even called-in asking if there were any escapee’s fr
om the local nut house.
He told me he pleaded with them to take him back to number 64, there he would show them Camilla, her friend and the woman on the trolley, then they would have no choice but to believe him.
Christopher drank more water then he continued; ‘they drove into the street where one of the officers walked up the steps of 64 and knocked on the door. There was no reply, he went around the back then returned to the front door. I was full of anticipation as he stepped back then kicked the door-in. I saw him enter then he came rushing back out and was violently sick over the edge of the fence.’ Christopher then told the officer in the car with him ‘he’s found her, and then warned him to be careful of Camilla.’
Christopher explained that the other officer who had been in the car with him went to the house and he too came out with his hand over his mouth, then he radioed in.
Christopher was getting a little brighter as he now had the story out in the open. Then he told me it was like something out of a cop movie, the street all of a sudden was full of flashing blue lights as more and more police cars turned up then an ambulance. ‘I was then driven to the police station and locked in a cell. I protested telling them I was the victim and to let me out, but it fell on deaf ears.’
I then told Christopher to leave it there for now; I would talk with him in a day or so. Christopher looked drawn as his eyes watered as he nodded then thanked me for my time.
CHAPTER NINE
What was I missing? Christopher told me the police went into 64 and one was sick over the fence, they must have found the body of the woman strapped down and carved to pieces, but why was there no record.
I sat thinking; I had been into a sell anything store only to find on my return it was now a different shop?
Nothing made sense to me, no police records no newspaper articles with headline news as one would expect to see when such horrific crimes such as the one told by Christopher had occurred.