“I'm so sorry for this. I am just so sorry,” he said, with a single tear rolling down his cheek, as he finished the gruesome task and stood to his feet.
Karen's petite size and very light weight made easy work of carrying her down the stairs and out to the car, and Jacob worried immensely as he made the short dash from his front door to the trunk of the Volvo parked in his driveway. He previously opened the trunk before bringing her body out, and although he saw no one outside at the time, he was terrified someone would witness him carrying the body. The transfer was completed without detection, however, and he made the forty-five minute drive from the house to Derrick's apartment building.
Jacob rushed to get to Derrick's before sunrise, and he arrived with mere minutes to spare. He drove to the rear of the building and slowly traveled through the back alley adjacent to the building. As he reached the mid-way point of the alley, he could clearly see the entrance at both ends. He left the engine running as he casually walked to the trunk, opened the lid, and took one last look around before hastily pulling Karen from the trunk. He momentarily cradled her in his arms as he brought her to the edge of the alley, and dropped her next to a pile of debris and rubbish. Jacob took one last look around, assuring no one had seen him, and rushed back into his car to make his getaway.
Karen stayed there, with the belt left around her neck, until she was discovered later in the morning, and there was nothing left to indicate it was Jacob who was responsible for disposing of her body.
Jacob drove to a local convenience store and he used cash to purchase a cheap, pay-as-you-go, disposable phone. He also purchased a minutes card so he could use it without the phone being linked or traced back to him in any way. After the temporary account was activated, he initiated the only call the phone would ever be used to make.
“Boston Police Communications Center, Johnson speaking, how can I help you?”
“Yes, can I talk to a Homicide Detective, please?” asked Jacob.
“If you need to report a homicide, sir, you need to hang up and dial nine-one-one.”
“No, I'm not reporting a murder; I have information, and I need to speak with someone.”
“Please hold,” said the operator.
The phone rang for a moment before being answered, “Homicide,” by a man with a very disinterested tone.
Jacob explained, “I know this is going to sound shitty, but I saw something that I don't want to get involved in, but I feel like I have to say something. Are you the person I should talk to?”
The man on the other end of the phone sarcastically replied, “Sir, how can I know if I'm the person you need to talk to if I have no idea what you're even talking about.”
Jacob explained, “I think I saw a murder last night, or at least part of one, anyway. At first I shrugged it off thinking I must have been mistaken and didn't see what I thought I was seeing. I've been thinking about it all day, playing it over and over again in my mind, and now I'm certain of what I saw. I know I should have called last night, but I need to tell someone about it.”
“I'm the person you need to talk to,” the man said. “Can I just get your name please?”
“No, I'm not comfortable giving my name. I don't want to get involved any more than this, but I'll tell you what I saw if you think it might help you.”
“Okay, go ahead.”
“I was cutting through an alley just north of The Common, around one in the morning, and I saw a guy pulling something out of the trunk of his car. At first I didn't think anything of it, but as I was driving right by him, I'm almost sure it was a woman he was pulling out.”
“What makes you say that?” asked the man.
“I think I saw blonde hair.”
“Are you sure there's no way I can get you to talk to me in person?” asked the man on the phone. “I think that would really be best.”
Jacob said, “There's no way I'm getting involved in this. I'll hang up, right now, and never call back if I think you're going to push me into something.”
“Not at all, sir. Just keep telling me what you saw – what did this guys look like?”
“It was so quick. I just remember he was a white guy, maybe in his early thirties, and he had a goatee.”
“Great, great, is there anything else you can tell me about him?”
“Tattoos,” said Jacob. “He had a lot of tattoos on his forearms.”
“What kind of car was he taking her out of, do you remember?”
Jacob remained silent before saying, “A BMW. It was a black BMW.”
“I just need to ask you,” the man started asking before Jacob interrupted.
“Was there a murder? Did I really see what I think I saw?”
“Why do you ask that?”
“I have to go,” Jacob said as he ended the call.
Jacob got out of his Volvo and wiped down the phone with a rag, to remove any fingerprints, and he threw the phone in a nearby trashcan on the sidewalk. His own phone vibrated, and he looked at the screen to see that it was Stephanie calling. He answered to hear Stephanie ask him, “I'm afraid to ask, but is everything taken care of at the house?”
Jacob paused and answered, “Yes, everything is done. How are you doing?”
***
Still in the interrogation room with Detective Carter, Derrick exclaimed, “Holy shit, man! Alright, I didn't have shit to do with anything that might have happened to her, so I'm going to be completely honest.”
“That would be lovely.”
“I've been dating her for a couple of years, but I didn't want to say anything because she's married. We have a sexual relationship, and that's it. Nothing more and nothing less. I didn't have shit to do with anything that could have hurt her.”
Detective Carter let out a long exhale, and said, “That's not how I'm seeing it. Just be honest with me. Did you two have a fight? Were you upset that Karen was breaking up with you? If you just snapped and something happened, we can work with that, but you have to talk to me.”
“I didn't do anything to her - I swear on my fucking mother!”
Detective Carter compassionately said, “Derrick, I want to help you, but you need to help me to help you. You need to tell me what happened, and we can fix it. We just need to know exactly what happened.”
“I'm not a god damned moron,” said Derrick. “You're not going to buddy up to me and get me to admit to something I didn't do.” He stared up at the ceiling and said, “I think I need a lawyer. When they first brought me in here, they read me my rights, and they said I could have a lawyer before I talk to you. I want one.”
“Sounds like a good idea, but just remember something: if you cooperate and work with me, you only make it easier on yourself in the end.” Detective Carter leaned in, bringing his nose to within an inch of Derrick's. Derrick could smell the mixture of coffee and cigarettes on the Detective's breath as he continued, “But if you fuck with me, I promise you'll spend the rest of your life rotting in a maximum security prison.”
“I want a lawyer,” said Derrick.
“Alright, tough guy. I won't ask you anything else, but you don't need a lawyer to listen. So I'll tell you what you're up against, and then you decide if you still want a lawyer, okay?”
“Whatever.”
“Tonight, you're being charged with First Degree Premeditated Murder, Kidnapping, False Imprisonment, Sexual Battery, Extortion, and Battery.”
“Hold on, wait,” said Derrick. “I didn't kill anyone. I didn't do any of that.”
“Then why did Karen disappear? She called in sick to work on Thursday morning, and no one has seen her since.”
“I don't know,” said Derrick. “I was with her on Thursday, but she left, and she was fine. We had a fight later on, because I was also hooking up with her friend, but it was only by text. I never saw her after she left”
Detective Carter opened a file folder and ran his finger down a page until stopping, and he asked “Is that when you told her, and I’m quoting,
‘I'm going to destroy you, you stupid bitch. You and your little fucking friend?’ We subpoenaed her cell phone records, and we have transcripts of every text conversation you ever had with her. You were tormenting the shit out of this girl.”
“That's not what it looks like!” yelled Derrick.
“Is that the last time you talked to her?”
“Yes. She left, we fought by text, and that was it. I said some shit that I probably shouldn’t have, and I haven't seen her or heard from her since.”
“If you didn’t see her again after this text message was sent, then how exactly did her phone, the same phone she was texting you from, get back in your apartment after you had this conversation with her? How is that possible?”
“It couldn't have been in my apartment, I haven't seen her since then.”
“We have Detectives ripping your place apart, and they found her phone in the laundry pile in your bedroom.”
Derrick, knowing full well he never had Karen's phone, began to think the information was a bluff, and he decided to call it. “Yeah, you found her phone?” he asked in his typical arrogant tone. “If you found her phone, then show it to me.”
Detective Carter laughed and said, “I don't have to show you shit. The ball is in my court, son, and I make the rules.”
“Yeah, dickhead? What puts the ball in your court?”
“You want to know what puts the ball in my court? The fact that you get into a fight with your married girlfriend, you tell her you’re going to destroy her, and she goes missing that same night -- that's a good start. Then her phone magically appears back in your apartment after you have this fight with her, and your only explanation is the cell phone fairy must have brought it -- that's pretty good, too. I think we’re definitely getting warmer, but you want to know the best part? We found her body in the alley behind your apartment with a belt around her neck -- and guess whose fingerprints were all over the belt buckle? Yours!”
“I didn't kill her!” screamed Derrick.
“I'm not even done yet, you arrogant son of a bitch. The icing on the cake is when the S.W.A.T. team kicks in your door to go get you, and they find you in the middle of raping and beating the shit out of a woman in your bedroom, and with a belt no less. So, if you want to keep up this I didn't do it bullshit, be my guest, but just be ready to face a very painful truth. You're not the kind of guy that does well in prison, and I can only go out on a limb and assume that you're going to have a very, very hard time in there.”
Derrick felt the room spinning as he was overcome with the confusion of not understanding anything that was happening to him. He quickly lurched to his left side and violently threw up on the floor. “I didn't kill Karen,” he groaned as the wafting smell of vomit filled the room.
“Have your lawyer argue that one for you, son,” said Detective Carter as he got up and walked out of the room.
In a separate interrogation room down the hall, Stephanie finished providing her statement to Detectives, and Bill Webber was sitting in. As she concluded, Webber asked, “My God, Bradford, why didn't you ever tell me? You know I would have done anything to help you girls.”
“We were so scared, Bill. We were so scared he was going to kill us if we said anything, and we were right. The day I told him I'd had enough, Karen was dead.”
“Listen, Bradford. I can't get you your job back, but it is very important for you to be willing to testify against this monster. A big part of getting a conviction on this is going to be your testimony. If you're willing to do that, I can arrange to have your DUI and Possession charge thrown out.”
“Can you get the charge expunged and the record sealed?” asked Stephanie while sniffling through tears.
Webber stood next to Stephanie, placed his hand on her shoulder and said, “Expunged and sealed, absolutely.”
“Bill, I'm so sorry about everything,” said Stephanie as she stood up and hugged him.
“Don't be sorry. Never regret anything, just always remember to move forward.”
“I will, I'll keep moving forward.”
“And Bradford, one last thing. I was talking to your husband while I was waiting to come in and speak with you. He's a good man, and he really loves you. I know you two have a lot of issues to work through, and it's definitely not going to be easy, but don't ever stop loving that man. I know he's never going to stop loving you.”
“I don't know where my life goes from here, Bill, but one thing I do know for sure, without even the slightest doubt, is that I will never stop loving him with every ounce of who I am.”
Webber walked Stephanie out to the station's main lobby where she saw Jacob waiting for her. He held two cups in his hand, and he handed one to her, “I got you a hot chocolate.”
“I don't want a hot chocolate,” she said. “I want you, Jacob. You're all I ever wanted. Can we go home?”
“Where is home going to be?” Jacob asked. “You know we can't go back to the house.”
“Home isn't a place, Jacob, it's a feeling. As long as I'm with you, I’m home. Can I please come home?”
“I think we both need you to come home,” answered Jacob.
***
Shortly after Derrick was arrested, Bill Webber tragically passed away from a sudden heart attack at home. Eighteen months passed, and Stephanie kept the promise she made to Webber, and she continued to move forward with her life. She never stopped looking at him as a mentor, even though he was gone, and she worked to model her own life after the fine example he set.
Due to his death, Webber wasn't able to oversee the prosecution of Derrick Hanson, but the trial was essentially a slam dunk. Between the crime scene Jacob created by dumping Karen's body behind Derrick's building, the Medical Examiner testifying that it was Derrick's belt that was used to either strangle or hang Karen, the threatening and violent text messages sent by Derrick, Karen's cell phone being found in his apartment, and the convincing testimony concocted by Stephanie, it took a jury of his peers only one hour to unanimously agree to convict Derrick. He was sentenced to serve three consecutive life sentences at the Cedar Junction Maximum Security Men’s Correctional Facility in Walpole, Massachusetts, and he would never be eligible for parole.
Stephanie was able to have her criminal charges dropped in exchange for testifying in court, and she did have her record sealed, but the Massachusetts Bar Association was notified of her arrest. They suspended her law license for a period of six months, and because of this, she was unable to find a job as an attorney even after the suspension period ended. She was, however, hired to work as a legal assistant in the Public Defender's Office, and she refuses to give up the dream of one day returning to the District Attorney's Office again as a State Prosecutor.
After all they had been through, and the dark secret they shared, Stephanie and Jacob decided to take things slowly. They thought it would be best to go back to square one and somewhat date again before making any long term decisions. That lasted all of three weeks, and before they knew it, they were living together in Jacob's new apartment. The two vowed never again to take the other for granted, and although it took Jacob a long time to move beyond what had happened, they walked away from the experience stronger and more devoted than ever. They eventually bought a new home together, one with new memories and a new start, and Stephanie really had moved forward with her life.
On a bright, sunny, Saturday morning, Stephanie walked to their new kitchen to start the coffee maker and pour a bowl of cereal for herself. The phone rang, and she answered to be greeted by a Facility Director from the Massachusetts Department of Corrections.
Jacob walked into the kitchen to see a look of utter shock on her face. He repeatedly asked who she was talking to while she listened intently to the caller, and she waved Jacob off, indicating she couldn't interrupt her conversation.
“I understand. Thank you very much for calling,” said Stephanie. After a pause during which the caller was speaking, she concluded the conversation, “ I will be sure
to, and thank you again. I truly appreciate you letting me know.”
She hung up the phone and stood silent for a moment, with Jacob again asking who was on the phone. “Stephanie, what's wrong? Who was that?”
“It's done, Jacob. It's all done.”
“What's done?” Jacob asked, concerned by Stephanie's dazed demeanor.
“All of it -- it’s finally all over.”
Epilogue
Two days earlier, Derrick was working his assigned job in the prison laundry when a guard came in and instructed all the inmates to leave the area. Derrick was doing as he was instructed, he was stopped by the guard and was told, “Not you. You stay.”
Confused, Derrick asked, “Did I do something wrong?”
“Just shut your fucking mouth and stay here,” barked the guard.
The guard stood by the door, and Derrick was all alone in the large, industrial-like laundry facility. The plain, gray concrete floor, the rows of stainless steel laundry machines, and the overwhelming heat was very typical of such a facility in almost any prison. Derrick was only alone for a short time when three other inmates walked in.
As the inmates entered, the guard said to them, “You have exactly thirty minutes before anyone starts asking any questions, so make it fast.” They agreed, and the guard left as the three men surrounded Derrick.
“You Derrick Hanson?” asked the inmate who was the obvious ringleader of the trio.
“I am, but listen guys, whatever this might be about, I'm sure we can work something out,” said Derrick.
“Not this time.”
“Not this time what?” asked Derrick as he was becoming visibly frightened by the confrontation.
“You ain't talking your way out of this shit. Someone on the outside went through a lot of trouble to set this up, and you ain't talking your way out of it.”
The Suicide Princess Page 20