To Probe A Beating Heart

by Wren, John B

  “That would be very interesting, we could observe the people as they try to figure out who we are. Ha, I love it.”

  Averell laughed and drove out to the freeway.

  Melissa was going to be another success for Averell. He had had two reasonably successful sessions and he was sure that he had the right ingredients this time. “She will be quiet, respectful of the work that we are doing here. She will show me her heart as it beats.”

  “We must be very careful to keep her calm and quiet. We will tell her what we are doing and what we will do.”

  “Yes, we will tell her everything before we begin. We can even show her the grave that we dug yesterday, just for her when we are finished.” As he pulled into the open area and parked his car, Averell spotted his shovel. He dragged Melissa out of the car and over to a tree near the pit.

  “Should we be taking photographs of this, I mean, we are getting better at this and there are just so many opportunities for us to do it right. This one is just right, the only other one we had that was just right was the first one. Remember?”

  “Yeah, but I can’t remember her name?”

  “I don’t think we ever knew.”

  “What is this one’s name?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Let’s ask her.”

  “Yeah, we’ll ask her.”

  Averell stood Melissa next to a tree and used another pull tie to secure her to a branch. He did the same to another tree and removed her gag. “Hello little girl, what’s your name?”

  Melissa screamed and cried. She was near hysteria but managed to say, “Let me go, I wanna’ go home.”

  “First you tell me your name.”

  “No, you’re hurting me, I wanna’ go home.” and she started to sob, uncontrollably.

  “No cooperation, just like Sarah, let’s get to the probes.”

  “Ask her one more time.”

  “Okay, okay, I will.”

  “Are you going to tell me your name.”

  Melissa was not hearing his question, she was aware of the sharpened probes in his right hand and the knife in his other hand. She knew what that meant, she knew she was going to get hurt, but she didn’t know how badly. The mind of a young girl who hasn’t hurt anyone was going to be tortured for being blond, having blue eyes and wearing the requisite clothes. She had experienced bumps and bruises, little cuts and scratches, but there was nothing in her frame of reference to prepare her for what came next. This would bring pain that would make full grown men cry and scream for mercy. She was as pure and innocent as any human being could be, and she was about to be butchered to satisfy one man’s perverted sense of pleasure. He wanted to see her heart beating and see her eyes as she died. This was his afternoon of pleasure. This was the end of her very brief life.

  “Do you see that hole in the ground? We dug that for you. That’s where you will be put when we are finished, in that hole and then we will put all that dirt on top of you.” He smiled, and held the probes up in front of her eyes, “These are for you too. We are going to put them into you and it is going to hurt.” He smiled again and touched the sharp end of a probe to her skin. She was as frightened as anyone he had ever seen. Her eyes, Sarah’s eyes were full of tears, reddening, wide and terrified. Averell placed the first probe against her side just above the hip and pushed it into her. Melissa screamed and choked while trying to inhale, she vomited and coughed, choking again and gasping for air. The probe went in about four inches and slowed. He took another probe, waved it before her eyes and placed it opposite the first and pushed it into her body. Her screams were exquisite, her pain was greater than anything she had ever felt. Averell picked up his knife, he started to make an incision just below her throat, when she let out a final blood curdling scream and fell limp, dead. Nature was merciful, she would not suffer any more of the pain of being torn apart while she was still alive.

  Averell was dismayed, he did not see her heart and he only briefly watched her eyes. He remained calm, composed, and concluded that the next time, he would have to get someone a bit older, perhaps it was time for a woman. Someone who could better understand what was happening, someone who could last longer. A woman like Sarah. “This is not working. I want them to last longer, I want to see the heart beating, then and only then I want to see their eyes as they die.”

  “Do you think we are ready for Sarah?”

  “I think we may be, she should be able to last longer, and if long

  enough, we will see her heart beating when I kill it.”

  As he dismembered her body and placed her parts in the three bags, Averell thought more and more about Sarah and Ellie. “Yes, we are ready. But what will we do, and where?”

  “This is a good place.”

  “No, too far to travel. We need something near Syracuse.”

  “The Finger Lakes.”

  “Yeah, but I had wanted to bury them in the woods near the old house where I grew up.”

  “We could do that.”

  “No, too risky, they can just disappear. We can put them near the

  others up there.”

  “What do you want to do to them?”

  “I’d like to string them both up like This one,” he said pointing at Melissa. “Facing each other, then put a probe in one, then the other. Then watch them watch each other, watch their eyes as they die. I want it to last a long time, I want it to be perfect.” As he spoke, his eyes widened, his voice became deeper and sweat appeared on his brow.

  “Do you think that they will cry or complain when we do them?”

  “Probably both.” Averell laughed aloud. “Both,” and he laughed

  again.

  “We have to work this out, Averell. Right now, we should clean everything up and get back on schedule.”

  “Yeah, we are ready.” Averell had packed the customary three bags with Melissa and put them in his trunk, then he went to the stream for his ritual of rinsing his body five times. When finished, he dried off, dressed and was walking back to his car when he noticed a pick-up truck coming into the clearing. He was completely surprised by this and quickly put the bag of his soiled clothes in the trunk and closed it. He looked around to be sure that he had everything and noted his shovel next to the hole intended for Melissa.

  “Phil, what a surprise. I was just going to take another look around, though about bringing my shotgun on this trip, but left in a bit of a hurry.”

  Phil was out of his truck and walking in Averell’s direction when he said, “good to see you, Al. What’s that over there?”

  “What, where?”

  “There, it’s a shovel. What the hell.” as he walked past Averell and

  toward the shovel, “is that yer’s?”

  “What, that shovel, no, what’s it doing there?”

  “Somebody’s figurin’ on buryin’ somethin’, I reckon,” said Phil.

  As they approached the hole, Averell said, “Hey, lookout, there’s a hole there.”

  Phil stopped and looked down, “damn, could’a fell in there, thanks

  Al.”

  “Sure Phil, you know what that may be?”

  “Yeah, coulda’ almost was my damn grave.”

  They both laughed and Averell said, “No, no I mean that might be a boar trap. Are there any boar in this area?”

  “I don’t think so, never seen ‘em ‘roun here.” said Phil. “Som bitch that dug this coulda killed someone.”

  “Maybe we should fill it up so nobody falls in,” said Averell.

  “You should fill it, you dug it, dummy.”

  “Yer probably right, damn I wanted to nail me some crows.”

  Averell grabbed the shovel and said, “How long would it take to dig this thing?”

  “‘Bout an hour, give ‘er take.”

  “Hmmm, let’s see how long it takes to fill ‘er up,” and he started to shovel the loose dirt back into the hole.

  Phil stood and watched for a minute then walked back to his truck. Averell thou
ght “serves me right, never should have dug this thing.”

  “Putz, he’s leaving.”

  Phil put his shotgun on the rack in the cab, took off his coat and walked around back of the truck.

  “Guess again,” said Averell as he looked toward Phil. He was heading back with another shovel.

  “Can’t let you have all the fun,” said Phil, and he started to help fill

  the hole.

  After about twenty minutes of shoveling loose dirt, the two men both leaned on their shovels and looked at each other. Almost at the same instant they both said, “Good enough.”

  As they walked back to their vehicles, Averell banged his shovel against a tree to shake off the dirt and set it next to Phil’s shovel in his truck.

  “That one’s not mine,” said Phil.

  “Well, it sure ain’t mine,” said Averell, “wouldn’t know where to keep it or use it.”

  “Ha, I go through these damn things, maybe two a year, so it’ll get

  used proper good.”

  “Deal,” said Averell, “Oh my goodness, I’m going to be late, gotta’

  run. Phil, I’ll be seein’ you.”

  “Okay Al, hey if yer headin south, drive slow, there’s a cop about a

  mile down the road, gotta’ make his quota.”

  “Thanks, Phil.” and he got in his car and drove out to the main road. He turned left and headed north this time aiming for the cemetery about ten miles away.

  “We going to the cemetery?”

  “Yeah, not a matter of choice now.”

  “Understood.”

  “If there was one cop.”

  “There are probably others.”

  Twenty minutes later, he was pulling into Alton Memorial Park, the cemetery where he had buried Annette. He drove around looking for the fresh grave that he knew was there. He spotted it near the tree line and not visible from the highway. He parked the car, opened the trunk pulled out the three bags and took them one at a time into the woods. He had all three bags ready to drop into a hole and it occurred to him, “I gave my shovel to Phil.”

  “That was stupid.”

  “I know, I know.”

  “So now what?”

  “I have to think.”

  “Well think fast, there’s a cop.”

  “I see that.”

  Averell walked to the front of the grave and knelt down and read the headstone. He bowed his head as if he were praying and waited for the police to approach him. They drove past and kept going.

  “Respectful, nice.”

  Averell thought for a moment and walked up to the bags. The cop was gone, he had no other obvious options. He dragged the three bags about twenty feet into the woods and said, “I have to take the bags, they are covered with fingerprints, but our little friend is going to stay here.”

  “They will find her.”

  “I know, but they will not be able to tie her to us. We will spread

  her around and cover her as much as we can, then we have to get outta’ here.” He scattered her body parts and covered each part with leaves and branches. Then took the plastic bags back to his car and put all six in another clean bag and put it in his trunk. As he was thinking about his next step, the police car was coming in the cemetery again.

  “We should leave.”

  “Yes, now.”

  He got in his car and slowly drove out of the cemetery and turned toward the freeway. In an hour he was on interstate 90 heading toward Erie.

  “New car time?”

  “Good thought.”

  “No more Portage county.”

  “Another good thought. We have work to do. We are going home for a few days.”

  “The car—.”

  “Yes, the car will be first.”

  * * *

  CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

  I like it, nicer than the one we used to have . . .

  The dismembered body in the woods next to the cemetery drew the attention of crows and other critters, which, in turn, attracted the police. Melissa was identified almost immediately and Josh Dembro, the officer who drove through the cemetery the previous night, was being questioned about his near encounter with the kneeling man. All he could remember was that the man was rather slight in build, with dark hair. He was kneeling when Josh saw him, so the man’s height was only a guess. He figured no more than five foot ten and no less than five foot six. He drove a dark blue sedan, probably four or five years old, with out of state plates, probably New York. Josh made a second pass through the cemetery because, as he thought about it, it was a bit strange for a mourner to be kneeling at a grave that late. He just wanted a second look. When he got there, the man was gone.

  The detective in charge learned quickly that the person buried in that grave had a number of family and friends in attendance, some from New York and yes, the kneeling man fit the description of several people who did or may have attended the funeral or come late. That little bit of information never made it to the media.

  As all of this was unfolding, Averell was back in Rochester and ready to visit Tom Walters again. His car was now four years old and it was fitting that he make a change. He drove to the dealership where Tom was working when he last bought a vehicle. He walked in the front door and approached the receptionist. “Hi, I’m looking for Tom Walters. He has helped me in the past and I thought—.”

  “Mr. Walters has moved on to our main office and no longer is involved in the sales efforts. He is in charge of fleets, well anyway, I can get another sales man to help you?”

  Averell thought for a minute and said, “There was a fellow, I think his name was Dave that helped out.”

  “When was that?”

  “About four years ago.”

  “That may have been Dave Martell, let me give him a ring.”

  A minute later, the young salesman that had helped out four years earlier came out of the office and with extended hand said, “Mr. Danker?”

  “Yes, good memory.”

  “Tom was the best, he could remember everybody’s name and I am trying to do the same, but it is difficult, so I cheat.”

  “How’s that?”

  “Same way Tom did it, I go over the list of people that I have met weekly and recall as much as I can, then I imagine a conversation with them and see their faces. Now I have to update my info on you,” he said with a smile.

  “I like this guy.”

  “So, Mr. Danker, what can I do for you today?”

  “Well, I think I’m ready to retire old blue here and get something new,” said Averell pointing at his car in the front lot.

  “Anything specific in mind, another sedan, or something different?” said Dave.

  “I think that I want to see the SUVs again. I really like the one that I had before the sedan.”

  “Okay, we can look at the new ones or start with the ‘Pre-Owned’ vehicles in the lot. I know you are aware that these things can be very expensive, so you tell me where you want to start.”

  Averell thought for a second and said, “let’s start with the new ones, get a feel for what I could get and go from there.”

  “Okay,” said Dave as he turned and pointed out a new SUV in the showroom, “Now this baby is loaded, and as you can see, it leaves nothing to the imagination except a chauffeur.”

  Averell opened the door and climbed in. “This is very nice. Is that a six disc changer?”

  “Yep, and you get the premium speaker package in this one.”

  Averell stepped out and walked around the back and opened the rear door. “Nice storage space, that’s a plus.”

  “That’s a big plus.”

  As he was coming around the side, Dave said, “Full size spare tire, large gas tank, big eight cylinder engine, great for towing a boat or trailer. All leather interior, all power windows, seats, tilt wheel.” He opened the hood and they stood there staring at the engine. “The bad thing is that if you work on your own car, this requires some help from a mechanic with all the r
ight tools.”

  “I would not even try, that’s why you guys have service departments, so I won’t put a wrench in there,” said Averell with a laugh. “Okay, I saw the sticker and it is quite expensive, nice but expensive. What do you have in the pre-owned area?”

  “Let’s walk out there, I think you will be pleasantly surprised at the choices,” said Dave.

  They walked out to the side lot and there were about twelve new looking SUVs in a row. “There you go, these are all less than three years old and all are very low mileage. Some folks buy these things and find out after a little while that they are more expensive to operate and maintain than they thought.”

  “Well I do a lot of highway driving and these buggies are pretty good if you drive at or a little over the limit and give them proper care and feeding. Let’s see inside this one, with the tinted windows.”

  “I’ll get the keys, be right back,” and Dave checked the number on that one and as he passed another one with tinted windows, he checked it’s number.

  “I like it, nicer than the one we used to have.”

  “Yeah, looks nicer and the price is in the ball park,” Averell said as he looked at the sticker.

  “We should get a gun rack and a shotgun.”

  “I don’t think we will be back in Phil’s playground anytime soon, too risky, best we move on.”

  “Yeah, damn it, I liked that spot and I liked Phil.”

  “Me too.”

  “Excuse me,” said Dave as he walked up to Averell.

  “Just thinking out loud, I like this one.”

  “Well, here’s the key, let’s open her up,” said Dave as he unlocked the door, “Hop in, what do you think?”

  Averell climbed in and sat behind the wheel looking over the buttons and dials. “Looks like the cockpit of a fighter jet. Let’s see the engine.” Averell stepped out and walked to the front.

  Dave went back to the door and pulled a lever that unlocked the hood and came around front and opened the hood. “There it is—,” the engine was clean, no rust, no grease or oil spatter, no dirt. “We steam clean these babies for display purposes of course, but this one was very clean when it came in, didn’t need a lot of help to look good.”