A confession: 

2:51 AM

LOCATION: Law Enforcement Center

Jonesboro, Arkansas

Detective X: “So let me get this straight in my mind, sir.  You just said, and I quote, ‘this one was a real fighter’.  Are you hinting that there have, in fact, been others?”

Suspect X: “I...guess what I’m getting at is, um (coughs), I simply see no reason to continue this charade any further.”

Detective X: “Meaning what exactly, sir?”

Suspect X: “Just that, detective.  The emotional and spiritual healing has to have a starting point, and I (coughs) believe it’s time to begin the journey.  Um, aren’t you going to cuff me now?”

Detective X: “I don’t believe that’s necessary at this point, sir.”

Suspect X: “Fine. I felt it a…my obligation to inquire.”

Detective X (his tone growing increasingly agitated): “Uh, yeah, whatever. Can you possibly do me a huge favor and cease the riddles? Honestly, I’m not in the mood. Let’s get down to specifics here, please.”

Suspect X: “I apologize, detective. Allow me to elaborate. I’ll be fifty-one years old this July, and was born in the great Northwest.  I would estimate, and you must trust me that an actual count is impossible for me to verify, that I have exterminated somewhere around two-hundred souls, innocent or otherwise, beginning in the summer of nineteen seventy-one.  Ballpark figure, you understand.”

Detective X (pauses; sighs heavily): “Ballpa-? Over two-hun-…? Shooting for the all-time record, are we?”

Suspect X: (laughs softly): “I understand your doubt, detective, but a large majority of my claims can be easily substantiated.  Many, in fact, within this very region over the past decade.”

Detective X (groans wearily): “Wonderful.  We’ll put that on the backburner for now, if that’s acceptable.”

Suspect X: “Well, you are the boss.”

Detective X: “Sure thing (sighs). Right now my only concern is the how’s and why’s concerning the murder of a Miss Pauline Breach of West Thirty-First.  Are you consenting to write and subsequently sign a confession in relation to this specific homicide?”

Suspect X: “By all means, detective.  Whenever you’re ready for me to do so.”

Detective X: “Before I obtain the proper form, let’s go over this one last time. You say you walked up on her while she was attempting to change a car tire on an isolated stretch of I-Fourteen and proceeded to beat her to death with a tire iron you first forced from her grip?”

Suspect X: “Correct on all counts, yes.”

Detective X: “And your motive was?”

Suspect X: “Never found use for such trivial matters, detective. In my own personal opinion, motive can easily be defined as excuse. I chose to defer.”

Detective X: “So all these other…alleged murders you mentioned were baseless as well then?”

Suspect X: “Utterly”.

Detective X: “Thrill-kills one and all.”

Suspect X: “That’s one definition, yes. Rather crude, but sufficient.”

Detective X: “So basically you fall under the heading of ruthless, mindless predator....”

Suspect X: “No denial.”

Detective X (voice growing noticeably shrill): “Void of conscience, blood-thirsty king of the serial killers. That about sum it up?”

Suspect X: “Your words, detective, not my own.”

Detective X: “A lethal combination of Gacy, Dahmer, and Ed Gein, all rolled into one malevolent package, with maybe a dash of Norman Bates, Michael Myers and Jason Vorhees tossed in for good measure? Kind of a ‘coast to coast’ Jack the Ripper?”

Detective X: "Take the occasional...bite from a particularly tasty looking victim, have you?"

Suspect X: "Um, not my style, detective."

Detective X: "Shame.  Would've added that 'Lector' factor that the news-types just eat up, pardon the pun." 

Suspect X (whispering softly): “There’s no need for open ridicule, detective.  As I’ve stated, a large majority of my claims can be substantiated.  This isn’t about bragging rights.”

Detective X (angrily): “Tell you what, sunshine.  I’m off to get those forms now, and I’ll be sure to bring a really thick yellow pad along so you can begin ‘substantiating’, all right? In the meantime, how’s about focusing solely on Miss Breach’s case for now?”

Suspect X (still whispering; his head hung in apparent humiliation): “Certainly.  As you wish.”

Detective X (grinning mischievously once outside the interrogation room door): “Bingo.  Six states, almost two thousand miles and countless rotted corpses later.  This is gonna be sooooo sweet.”

5:19 AM

LOCATION: Law Enforcement Center

Jonesboro, Arkansas

Medical Examiner X (wiping his brow):  “My lord, Chief.  I…(labors to swallow)…I’ve never seen anything like it in thirty years. I…not even in a blasted movie.”

Chief of Police X (scowling): “It’s…it is…hard to fathom.  Truly what nightmares are made of.”

Medical Examiner X: “How is the…that young desk officer that...discovered this mess?”

Chief of Police X (squinting as he scans the surrounding walls): “Transported over to Summerville Medical for treatment.  Poor probie will more than likely need heavy sedation for a month of Sundays to even begin to get over it. You get all the DNA samples you’ll need?”

Medical Examiner X (nodding solemnly): “Bodies will have to be scanned for fibers and such.  I’ve taken…(pauses to pat his upper lip)…ample scrapings from the floor and….the walls in here.  The closet where Detective Kirby was found is still being processed for prints.  Hope to get you some word by…(pauses to check his wristwatch)…oh, nine or so.  I’ll put McCauley on the body.  He’s the best I’ve got.”

Chief of Police X: “Channel Six is already parked on our doorstep.  Damn vultures.  By noon I’m libel to have CNN pounding on my door (begins to gently rub his eyes while slowly bowing his head).  Gonna spread like wildfire over the ‘net.  That initial headline is just going to feed the frenzy until some real facts are uncovered.”

Medical Examiner X: “I’ve never envied you your job, chief, and tonight is certainly no exception. Trying to explain the death of a potential murder suspect is one thing, but a slain homicide detective with over two decades service is quite another. And what’s the meaning of all this (he points to the walls with an expression of unbridled disgust) inane scribbling? There isn’t a square foot on any wall that isn’t covered.”

Chief X: “FBI will have to decipher the hieroglyphics, although it appears a makeshift victim’s list of some type.  Sure bet it written out in the interviewee’s blood though, considering how….pale the man’s corpse appeared.”

Medical Examiner X: “Endless names and dates.  Mostly female, looks like.  Earliest date I saw was eighty-two, but there’s one on the back wall as recent as last week. Could one person have …you know…my god, there must over two-hundred names....”

Chief X (temporarily masking his nostrils): “Don’t forget the two on the outside door, doc. Today’s date; today’s victims. ”

Medical Examiner X (raising a finger airborne): “Oh, indications are that Detective Kirby’s shoulder holster and badge were missing from the body.  You think the perp stripped him for disguise purposes, possibly…I mean, in order to impersonate him?”

Chief X: “Seems a safe bet.  Sick SOB passed himself off as Kirby to perform his own personal interrogation.  Lord knows why, but he bled the suspect like a stuck pig before hanging ‘im from that circular fan with his own belt.”

Medical Examiner X (whirling about to scrutinize the blood-drenched walls a final time before departing): “Well, I’m headed to the lab. Good luck with the newshounds, chief.”  

Chief X (gently patting the other man on the left shoulder while strolling by): “Speaking of which, doc, do your best to sidestep ‘em as you leave.  I’m sure they have the back exit manned as well. Let’s keep the details of this massacre on the QT ‘til I can get with my PR officer.”

Medical Examiner X (smiling wearily): “Not to worry, chief.  This worn out old soul hasn’t seen a thing.”

Medical Examiner X (now alone in the adjoining hallway, muttering to himself): “My Lord, how I wish that were true.”

11:10 PM (SAME DAY)

LOCATION: The intersection of Briley Lane/Donelson Parkway  - Lawton, Oklahoma

Uniformed Officer X (holding a badly shaking revolver straight out from his chest with both hands): “D-drop the knife, asshole, or I’ll blow you away on general principal…drop it NOW, DAMN IT!”

Suspect XX (discards the blade onto the glittering pavement before holding both blood-soaked hands into the air palms up): “I truly apologize for your partner, officer, but it seemed to be the only way I was going to be taken seriously.”

Uniformed Officer X (yelling frantically into the mike at his shoulder): “This is unit sixteen; unit sixteen, O-Officer Gerald. I…I’m at the intersection of Briley and D-Donelson.  Off-Officer down…I…I repeat…officer down! S-send back-up and m-med…EMT…I need medical assistance ASAP (turning his head away from the mike)!  Just s-stand right there, you c-crazy son of a bitch.  You so m-much as reach to pick your nose and I’ll swear I’ll deflate your skull, you got me?”

Suspect XX (smiling warmly): “I offer no resistance, officer.  If your mule-headed partner had simply listened to me, such dramatics wouldn’t have been necessary. As it is, he will soon become infamous as number two-thirty-one.”

Officer X (his lips trembling with anger): “Y-you have the right to remain silent, shit-head, and if I were you, I’d do just that…”

Suspect XX (tilting his head a bit to the right): “Your life will never be the same after this night, officer.  History will list you as the man who captured the greatest living predator this world has ever known.”

Officer X (his entire body beginning to tremor with rage): “…a-anything you s-say or do can and will be used a-against you in a c-court of law…”

Suspect XX (tears streaming down both sides of his face): “Just hours ago a bit south of here, I managed to eliminate my greatest challenger to the title.  He was indeed worthy, but a bit old and slow afoot.  His time had come and gone, while I had just hit my prime.  It was a truly memorable passing of the torch, albeit a bit on the messy side.

   As for me, I’ve always been one to believe that it’s preferable to ‘go out on top’ of one’s game, don’t you think? Kind of like Barry Sanders of professional football fame or Seinfeld on Television.  As the Who once sang, ‘it’s better to burn out…than to fade away….”

Officer X (half-stepping forward until he is only a dozen feet from the suspect, his tone growing increasingly loud and irate): “…YOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO AN A-ATTORNEY, MOTHER FU-FU-….(chokes, gags)”

Suspect XX (falling to his knees with his hands now clasped tightly to his chest): “ …my legacy is written, officer, my destiny fulfilled.  Now, it is time you do the same for yourself….”

Officer X (his teeth bared; his arms and hands no longer shaking): “….IF Y-YOU CANNOT AFFORD ONE, YOU S-SICK, SADISTIC FUCK, ONE WILL BE APPOINTED FOR YOUR MURDERING ASS...”

Suspect XX (reaches into the inside pocket of his blue jean jacket and removes a pearl handled straight razor): “Join me, officer…and we’ll both live….forever…”

(three shots ring out, echoing through the still night air like distant cannon fire)

 Suspect XX (bleeding profusely from the chest, mouth, and nostrils as the officer stands over his fallen body): “Br-bra-v-vo.…j-just…l-like…t-t-that…one l-legend p-passes…w-while…a n-new o-one is… b-bo-born...”

Four days later, Suspect XX (soon to be labeled ‘MISTER HATE’ by the nationwide media) is laid to rest wearing the faintest of smiles.

***