Forgive Me by Kateri Stanley (love letters to the dead txt) 📗

a look for yourself, you don’t want to hear me prattling on. According to the forensics team, the intruder used an axe to kill Gerald, similar to the devices firemen use.”

Stripe’s eyes scanned the pages, Pam realised she must’ve been a quick reader, she used to whiz through novels when she was younger. The moment she became a parent, her love of reading had simmered. Now, her son was a proud teenager and her house was cramped with WWE toy figures.

“Is it true that the Night Scrawler wrote words on the wall?”

“Yes, he did. In Gerald’s blood after he died. It was: Liar. It’s a sight I won’t forget.”

“I’m not surprised. My dad had Monster.”

Yeesh, Pam thought. Poor kid.

“Do you ever wonder why the killer wrote such obscene words on the walls?”

“I’m not sure. It could be because they wanted to antagonise us, or simply, the killer wanted to do it.”

“Kinda reminds me of the Zodiac killings as he sent letters to the cops and the press.”

“I know, I read about the case.” Another one which didn’t have an ending.

“Did you find anything peculiar about the crime scene?” Stripe asked. “As it says in the file, no belongings were taken.”

Pam had to think about it. “Yes, I did actually. There were no signs of a struggle. Forensics found footprints leading from the backdoor up to Gerald’s room, and then back out the same way. It seemed more like a-”

“Execution?”

“I was going to say more like an assassination. All of the victims knew each other because they’d worked together in the same department.”

Stripe glanced up at her. “Can you tell me more?”

“They worked for a company called Kaltheia which specialised in blood testing and they provided diagnostics for other external clients such as private hospitals, clinical centers and so forth. The company went into liquidation and all five victims parted, going their separate ways. Gerald then found employment in a pharmaceutical role and worked there till his demise.”

“Do you think your assassination theory could be linked to their deaths?”

“Maybe, but without hard evidence I can’t say that’s for sure. I’ve worked on many cases where a death had been premeditated, negotiated and arranged. A murder-for-hire. Might’ve been a jealous spouse, or someone trying to bump off their loved one to get the insurance money. Normally, the assailants kill quietly, they use poison or they try to make it look like an accident. Staging a burglary gone-wrong is a common one.”

“There was nothing stolen at my father’s crime scene or any signs of a fight. These seem to match the previous three murders.”

“It would seem so.”

“Can you think of a reason why someone would want to kill Gerald?”

“I can’t really answer I’m afraid without proof, which I sadly don’t have. We interviewed his friends, colleagues even his ex-wife. They were married for a long time then they divorced over irreconcilable differences. They all said the same thing; he was a quiet hard-working man. He wasn’t someone who enjoyed being the centre of attention. Gerald had a daughter, but we were unable to contact her.”

That was when Stripe stopped reading. “Really? How come?”

“She died in hospital fifteen years or so before from child birth.”

“Can you tell me her name?”

“Heather Blair.” Pam snapped on a pair of latex gloves, passing a pair to Stripe who rolled them on with ease. She seems pretty clinical for a journalist. Pam pulled out two photo frames and handed them to Stripe. “We found these in Gerald’s bedroom. His ex-wife didn’t want them, said she’d rather we kept hold of them in case we got a lead.”

“Heather’s very beautiful. Amazing eyes,” Stripe said, glancing at her daughter, studying the child momentarily.

“We all thought that too when we first saw the picture.”

“My father’s in this other picture, and Sheila and the other two who died. They really did know each other. Did you contact the other workers in this photo?”

“We tried but there were no personnel files of anyone who worked there, the company had closed a while ago plus they would’ve been confidential.”

“But if you had a warrant, surely you could’ve gained access?”

“Not when the company no longer exists.”

“Oh, I see.”

Pam was worried she may have upset her but facts were facts, they couldn’t create something out of thin air purely to give a loved one a metaphorical hug. “I’m sorry, Stripe. We’re not magicians, I wish we were that powerful, it would make interrogation so much easier that’s for sure.” She noticed Stripe smiled at her remark. “I’d do anything to help find your father’s killer and bring them to justice.”

“Thank you, Pam. It’s nice to hear someone out there still cares, especially for the right reasons. Normally, I receive emails from filmmakers trying to make a quick buck off my father’s death, hoping it will get optioned by a network, for a series or something.”

“That doesn’t surprise me. I must admit, I’m shocked a movie hasn’t been made about the Night Scrawler yet.”

“Me too. I guess it’s too mysterious, not enough leads-”

“And there’s no ending.” Pam knew there were corrupt people in the justice system. She’d read about detectives and police officers who’d signed contracts for book and movie deals about certain high-profile cases. When they got caught, they were fired or forced to resign and conduct the walk of shame. She reckoned their professional careers were in tatters, practically unrecoverable. You take an oath for a purpose. The Aileen Wuornos case was notorious for police bribery. It made Pam think of her old boss, Rick Plastery, a fantastic detective who had the brass courage to voice his strong cemented opinions. They didn’t always land on popular and welcoming ears, thankfully he’d retired, she reckoned he wouldn’t have survived in the politically correct world nowadays.

“Can I get these copied?” Stripe asked. “Would it be okay?”

“I can’t copy the pictures.” Pam took them from her, placing them back in the box. “But I can copy the documents. They’re in the public eye after all and available