by H. B. Rae
Many of the parents looked around.
"And I wanted to say to the rest of you, that John Doe is not the Minot Hacker!"
This instantly created an uproar of gasps and whispers.
"In a minute, you will know who the real serial killer is. But I just want to point out a few things. First, all of us, including myself, made two assumptions that cost us a lot of time, and threw me in the completely wrong direction. To see what I am talking about, I need to take you all back to when John and Monica were walking together in the woods. They approached a house. John told Monica that he did a very bad thing there. Those were his exact words. I naturally assumed that the place he was referring to was the house. Well, actually, he did not refer to the house at all. In fact, I now know that Joseph and Maria Doe were not involved in the murders in any way, nor was the house."
"So, what was John referring to?" Monica said, interrupting me.
"If you listen, you will know," I replied. "Now, when I went to the house for the first time, I tripped over something. It was a metal stump in the ground. It was of circular shape. Now, just before I visited the house, I saw a sign pointing to the river. I noted that this sign was very modern-looking. If you think about it, there must have been a sign somewhere before that one, as it clearly was not twenty years of age. I now know that the sign pointing to the river used to be just outside the farm house."
"What have signs got to do with my son's murder?" asked the father of Richard Cold.
"I will explain everything," I replied. "And anyway, it's not the sign, but it's what it pointed to. And what did the sign point to?" I asked Monica.
"The river," she replied.
"Exactly!" I cried. "And that was where John did the 'bad thing'. This takes us to my second wrong assumption. This is the important one. Monica, you told me that you saw John come running home one day, dripping wet. Is that true?"
"Yes," replied Monica.
"And what exactly did he say?"
"Well, he said, 'they made me go in the river'."
"Which is exactly what they did," I replied.
"Wait a minute!" said the mother of Daniel Gibson. "You're telling me that our sons threw John into the river?"
"No, I am not saying that at all," I replied. "Now, I am going to reveal who the murderer is now, before I go any further."
Everyone fixed their eyes on me. No distraction at all could take their eyes from me.
"The murderer is...Laura!"
Everyone turned their heads and stared right at her. Laura looked as shocked as everyone else did.
"Me?" she said in a timid voice.
"Don't try to hide it. I know it was you!" I cried.
"I'm sorry, but you're wrong!" she laughed.
"You know I am not wrong," I said, "and I would like you to keep quiet while I explain everything to everyone. You see, the four murder victims played a small part in the river incident. The person who was thrown in the river was actually Laura. And, from what I just said about the signs and the bad thing, who threw her in?"
"John did," said some of the parents.
"Right, and John dived in right after her, because he realized that she was in danger. You see, these young boys, being teenagers, did not see the danger of throwing somebody into a river. I am guessing that it was quite high, and Laura did not like water. So, because of the continued bickering, the boys decided they would taunt John into throwing Laura into the river, little realizing that he would actually do it. And instead of helping Laura, they got scared and ran off, leaving John to save her. Laura hated the boys for doing what they did, but she hated John even more for actually throwing her in. So, she made a plan to kill the four boys and get away with the murders, because nobody would suspect her, as those six were the only ones who knew about that incident, so none of those would say anything, meaning that Laura would not be suspected by anyone. She would then manipulate John into telling the police that he was the killer. She did this by dressing up as his mother and pretending to be her. She then developed a mother-son relationship, knowing that John would fall for it. She would then eventually tell him that she was the murderer, so John would think that it was his mother who did it. I am guessing that Laura then told him that the police were closing in on her, so John was desperate to defend her, so he confessed, and you all know the rest of the story. It took twenty years, but in Laura's eyes, it was worth every minute."
I paused for a moment to let everyone process what I had just said.
"So, it was Laura who was pretending to be John's mother?" asked Monica.
"Yes. This fits in with everything. Such as when I went to John's house. I knocked on the door. I think that Laura was actually in the house at the time, waiting for a phone call. The knock on the door alerted her, so she sneaked out the back and came to talk to me. She was able to observe Monica going out every day, because she lived just round the corner from her, so she would be able to look from one bedroom window and watch her going out of the house. Whenever Monica left, Laura would dress up as the old woman and go to the house."
"This is extraordinary!" Patricia said.
"There is more," I said. "When I asked Laura if she knew that John was schizophrenic, or that he had any mental health disorder, she denied it, even though it was blatantly obvious. This was to convince me that she was not trying to manipulate John, or show that she was an easy target."
"What about our sons’ murders?" asked the mother of Daniel Gibson.
"Well, for the first murder, Laura was working in the club at the time of the party. I know this because before I left the building, I checked the records by telephoning the club. Anyway, since she was doing a job that night, Laura was easily able to slip a drug into everyone's drinks. This meant that nobody would be able to remember anything that happened the night before, except for minor details. Furthermore, nobody would suspect a thing because they were all drunk anyway. After the dance, Laura killed him and put his body into the back of her car. She then waited for people to leave, and drove his body to the forest."
"And the second murder?" said Steven's mother.
"The second murder helped me out a great deal," I said, "because of one thing. I now know that every day, Steven took a new route when he walked his dog, because there was a lot of the town to explore. If Steven took his dog out for a new walk every day, would the dog be able to remember everything?"
There were a few shakes of heads.
"A dog's brain is not adapted enough to be that clever, so it would not remember its exact route home. So, how did it get home? The answer is that somebody must have taken it home. Obviously, this person was Laura. After killing Steven, she noticed the dog, and since she cares for animals so much, she drove it home, where she left it to find its own way back."
"And the third?" said Daniel's mother.
"The third murder was quite puzzling, but the answer was very simple. There were no witnesses at the time, were there?"
"No," some people said.
"So, why did Laura take the risk and kill him in an open street? The answer is simple: because she knew that nobody was there. She knew that everyone in Jackson Street was out for a 100th birthday party or somebody's anniversary. This lasted for the whole night from the afternoon until late at night, because a 100-year old would prefer to have their party on an afternoon than at night time. Knowing this, Laura was able to kill Daniel without anyone seeing at all."
I then moved on to the fourth murder.
"The fourth murder was very puzzling indeed, but I now know that it was Laura who wrote the note to Richard, because she knew that Monica and Richard were dating, so Richard would naturally assume that it was Monica who wrote the note. That's all there is to it. I'm finished now, so does anybody have any questions?"
Nobody answered.
"I have one!" cried Laura.
"And what is that?" I said to her.
"How can you prove any of this?" she said with a fairly smug look on her face.
; "Please, don't let her get away with it!" one of the parents begged.
"I won't," I replied, "and I do in fact, have evidence. I know that the love note that was written to Richard would have your fingerprints on it. If you are innocent, you would have no need to touch the piece of paper, so they would not be there."
Laura looked very vexed by now.
"Alright!" she cried, "I'm the Minot Hacker! Are you all happy now?!"
Monica looked at her. Everyone else looked at her. Patricia was the one who arrested her.
A couple of minutes later, everyone prepared to leave.
"Thank you so much!" cried the parents of the victims. "We've waited twenty years for this day!"
"I'm glad you've finally found justice," I said. "Laura will never get out of prison again. That is guaranteed."
"I never thought it would be a woman," said the father of Daniel Gibson. "I thought about who the killer might be a lot, and I prayed to God for that day. Without you, we would have never found true justice!"
The parents left. However, there were still two people I wanted to speak to. Monica slowly approached us.
"Thank you," she said, almost crying.
"What for?" I asked.
"For having faith in us."
Monica and John then held hands, and walked out of the police station and into the sunlight. I almost cried when I watched them give each other a hug.
"It's over now," said Monica. "It's all over."
And I'm glad it is!
The End
***
Sample of Buried My Murder Mysteries #2
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B018KJVL4Q
Chapter 1
June, 1974
The Green family were similar to any typical family living in a rough housing project in the town ofMinot, North Dakota. They were unemployed, had little money and overall, were experiencing a tough time during economic depression. During this time, many people turned to alcohol, and no-one cared about anyone else but themselves and their own families. Times were hard, and many did not see a way out of it. No-one knew if they were ever going to experience happiness again. The country was going through a terrible time, and that was that.
Ian Green was like any other child going through these times. He was eight years of age, and often had little to eat outside of school hours. He was an innocent child who was always making people laugh. He had no idea of the situation the country was in, as he was too young to understand, and was too occupied with his own childhood to even try to. He had grown up in one house in a housing project, as did his elder sister and elder brother. His brother, Evan, was six years of age, while his sister, Alison, was almost seventeen.
Evan was known as a geek, or a nerd. He wore square glasses and had two teeth at the front of his mouth that stuck out. Very few people talked to him in those days. He was always in the background, though a target for bullies, and Ian could not do anything but sit back and watch, as he was powerless against large groups of them. Evan did not fit in at all with the rest of the family – he was too intelligent, though none of the other members of the family seemed to notice.
Alison, on the other hand, was a typical teenage girl. She was the complete opposite of Evan in some ways, as she spent most of her time going out and dressing her hair.
One night, on an afternoon in 1984, was a completely typical night. It was quiet outside, and there was no-one around, no-one except the entire Green family, excluding the one who did not bother to speak to any of them.
"Bitch, I asked for a steak pie, not a pork one!" cried Thomas, the patriarch of the family.
"Do I care?" asked Iris, drinking a large glass of wine. Iris was the matriarch of the family, and most of the time she did not care about anything.
"You will in a moment if you don't keep your trap shut!" screamed an enraged Thomas.
The entire family was watching in the background of the living room, knowing what was about to happen next. Iris' parents, Margaret and Fred, who lived next door to the family, were watching, not caring much, while all three children were there. The two boys watched in fear, while Alison did not care at all. She was too busy putting on makeup for her night out. Iris' sister, Alison, was also there. Alison and Iris were nothing at all alike: Iris had short, brown hair and was a plump woman, while Alison was a skinny blonde.
"Here they go again!" laughed Margaret. Fred laughed with her.
"And if you don't shut up I'll ram your head into that door!" yelled Thomas, even more angry. Those threats were not at all empty, as the entire family knew the extent of his violent behavior.
"Don't talk to her like that!" Iris cried, getting up to attack Thomas. She stood up, but could barely walk. She was obviously drunk, as usual. The rest of the family had no idea where she got those amounts of alcohol from. Maybe there was a secret supplier, they thought. Iris half-limped over to Thomas and as she tried to hit him, Thomas jumped up and punched her repeatedly in the mouth. Two of her teeth fell out, and her face turned red. She screamed to stop but he didn't listen, and neither did anyone. Nobody cared anymore.
"You go, girl!" cried Iris' father, enjoying the action.
Iris then picked up a knife and cut into Thomas's hand. Thomas then screamed.
"I'm gonna kill you!" he cried.
Iris tried to run away, but he grabbed her hair and yanked it. She screamed for someone to help her.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, Ian got up heroically and tried to stop the fight. He could not bear to see his mother abused like this; it was becoming more and more frequent.
"Let go of her now!" Ian cried.
Everyone in the room was bewildered by this. Thomas let go of his wife.
"What did you just say?" he said, in complete shock.
"I hate you! I'm gonna tell the police!"
This made Thomas even more angry. He grabbed hold of little Ian and smacked his head against the wall. He forced him onto the wall, and then repeatedly punched Ian in the stomach. Poor little Evan was screaming in fear, but Alison was laughing, crying, "Go on, Dad! Kick the shit out of him!"
Thomas eventually finished beating his child. He collapsed to the floor, covered in bruises, bleeding in places. He almost coughed up blood.
"And don't you ever, ever stand up to me again!" he screamed, kicking the child a few more times.
Alison, who was still there in the background, stood next to her parents who were watching as if they were watching a television program. She decided enough was enough.
"Right, I'd best be off," she said, her voice trembling.
"See ya, love!" said Margaret, kissing her on the hand. Alison left, telling herself that she had not witnessed any of what she had just seen.
Alison then got up.
"Right, I'm ready," she said.
"And where are you going?" Thomas asked.
"I'm going to my friend's party," she replied. "Isn't it obvious? I'm wearing a pink dress!"
"Well, go on then," said Thomas.
Alison left, leaving the rest of the house in tatters. Evan was hiding under a table, while Ian was still in shock about the whole thing. He was still in agony. He had been hit a couple of times before, but this was the worst by far. Iris carried on drinking, and Thomas sat down to eat his pork pie.
It was a cold night, actually early hours in the morning, and there was a person out in the middle of a field, digging. The person dug a hole, and they placed something into that hole. That thing was a person. A woman. A young woman. A young woman wearing a pink dress.
Chapter 2
It was one week after the Minot hacker murders case, and I was still receiving vast amounts of media attention, although there was now little attention left to receive. To me, it was done, in the past, and I focused all of my energy on the next murder case that I was assigned to, even if that was going back to the gang killings.
"Has everything settled down now?" asked Miranda, my colleague and somewhat friend.
I thought that Miranda was
perhaps jealous of my amazing achievement, since I knew that she had not used that sort of deductive power in her life, and even if she was assigned to the Minot case, she would not solve it, and the true murderer would have gotten away with it, sending an innocent person to prison. Although I was very proud of what I had done to help those families I did not brag about it, nor did I mention it once to hint to the others that I was pleased with my huge success.
To my bewilderment, there was still a newspaper article about me pinned up on the boss's wall when I entered the room, even though seven days had gone by. I was very pleased that Clive Mitchell had thought so much of me – that was something else for Miranda to be jealous of.
"Well, to be honest, Miranda," I'm glad the whole thing is over with," I replied to her before I went into the boss's office, ready to be assigned to my next murder case. I assumed it was another gang killing, because that was what they generally were; the gang violence in North Dakota was at the highest ever rate in 2012, which made me tired sometimes. However, I knew I should never assume anything that I thought might not be true, and indeed I was about to be proven wrong, when Mitchell assigned me to the case.
"Williams," he begun, smiling slightly as I entered the room, "I have a new case for you, and I think you'll like it."
"Alright," I replied, waiting for more information and eager to discover what the man had in store for me. Inside, I was honest with myself that not much could be trickier than solving the Minot murders, but I knew I could be surprised.
"Well," said Mitchell, "this morning, we, or should I say, a dog, found a body of an unidentified victim. There is not much left but bones, and they appear to be a female. I'll let you look at this person and you'll see the rest. It's obvious that this person died decades ago. I've chosen you for this case because I trust you. I have faith that you will find the killer of this person, no matter how hard it will be. You have already demonstrated your amazing skills to me, so this should be no problem to you."
I was quite annoyed at Mitchell's assumption, because he should not have put that much pressure on me. Sometimes murders are unsolvable, especially cold cases, since there are no leads from the start. It's sad, but unfortunately, Mitchell did not see it like that. He saw me as the God of criminal catching, and I knew I wasn't. Although I was talented at what I did, I could not make any deductions about things if I did not have anything to deduce from, and this case seemed just like that. On the other hand, it was worth a shot, and it was better than working on all of the gang killings all the time, so I was ready for the challenge, leaving others to work on the gang killings for a second time. I predicted they would now be very annoying, but now I had more important things to focus on than whether I was right about that.