Almost every living person on this wonderful planet of ours wants overnight fame. You know, the kind where you go to sleep as virtually a nobody and wake up to greatness, with instances of your name in everyone's mouths. Note the key phrase, "every living person", for the fruits of fame do not apply to those who have crossed the threshold of the living and have entered the realm of the dead.
Which brings us to our present debacle: in as much as we tried to hide the serial killer issue from the public, a sudden set of events led us to eventually reveal this secret, unwillingly by the way.
I remember waking up one day, performed my usual morning routine, which some have called a ritual.
(Sigh!).
Perhaps if they were as organised as I was they would no doubtedy fathom the sheer will required to wake up everyday and perform daily routines.
I had made tardiness a bit of a habit the last few weeks since the case began. No! To be completely honest and stop lying to myself, this habit actually predates the murders.
I figured this was the day to redeem myself once and for all!
I had woken up an hour prior to my usual time, so I guess this meant I would have to rewrite my entire schedule a few minutes back. All while ensuring the time intervals are still even with no oddities in between. Just thinking about the amount of work I had to do mademy brain hurt. Figuratively of course, but I have been getting these painful on and off migraines whenever I get stressed beyond my normal stress levels.
With a few minutes left to spare, I went out the door: I did not want to take any chances this time around. The sun had not yet risen, but it was about to, forsome would say "the dawn of sunrise brought light it day". The sky was a yellow-esque phenomenon up above, paving way for the blue of noon a few hours later.
I walked passed Mr. Haartie's house. It looked so lonely and deserted. I went by and took a peek through the window. I knew not what I was looking for, but I just kep searching. I started off from the kitchen window, then went around the house and looked through his bedroom. This particular side of the house was shielded from the outside. It appeared as though it was night all day, everyday. I couldn't even see passed the window.
"Why do I even bother?".
Just as I was about to leave, I heard movement... from inside the house. This was weird, because the only inhabitant of this building died weeks ago.
I had second and third guesses about going into the house unannounced. I remembered the last time I did something like this; I ended up in the car of a murderer!
I eventually decided against it and rushed to the station to notify them of what I heard. When I made it to the brighter side of the house, I was shocked to realise the sun has risen. I did not understand at all how ths was possible. I checked my phone and the time was well passed ten o'clock!
"What the hell!".
I navigated to the call application on my phone and just when I was about to call Gary, he called me. I did not pick up, so it automatically went to voicemail. I listened to the message he sent me:
"Where in God's name are you!?".
He sounded angry.
I rushed to the station. Hell, I ran faster than a black man in a white suburb.
I eventually got to the station, and imediately went to the Lieutanant's office.
"Sir... SIR!", I was starting to sound like that 'down bad guy's I've seen on social media
"I have to tell you something.".
But before that I had to catch my breath seeing as how I had been running for a very long time.
"Ok. So I was walking passed the dead old man's house to peek through his window, and whilw there, I heard footsteps coming from inside the empty house.".
"Wait, so you're telling me the reason you came to work late, AGAIN, is because you were playing peeping Tom in some old man's house!?".
Ok, now that I said it out loud realized just how twisted it sounded. Almost making me sound a perveted bad guy. I could see it in his eyes, he was extremely livid.
"You know what Jules? You are f... "
And just before he could finish that sentence, Mark the accounting officer came in. Phew!
"Uhm, Sir. I think you should come see this. B-Both of you".
He voice had trembles, so whatever it was, it really spooked him.
We went to the station's common room, where a number of on duty officers were huddled up, looking up at the big screen.
"Make way, make way!"
Lieutenant Davis demanded and the officers obliged. I took advantage of this moment and followed behind him to get a better view of the screen.
"We bring to you live, an exclusive story right at the heart of Great Narrow's cul de sac, where it would appear another murder has taken place. The police still haven't found the killer, but it seems like he has striken again. That's right ladies and gentlemen, this is the work of one man and he left a note at the scene, taking credit of a number of murders [...]".
The lieutenant immediately turned the TV off.
"Everybody get to work! Go on, get outta here! I want every available detective on that crime scene. NOW!!!".
I could tell he was upset. He went on his way to his office.
We had tried so hard to conceal this enormous secret, but did not take into consideration the only person who would jeopardize it would be the one actually causing this whole situation.
"Jules! Come on over here".
"Sir?".
"I dismissed you while you were providing me with crucial evidence. Had I listened, we probably would have gotten there before the media and averted ths whole thing".
"Don't be so hard on yourself Sir. We all make mistakes.".
I went out the door, wanted to leave him in peace.
I went with the last car headed to the crime scene.
"Why would the killer strike in the same place more than once? None of it made any sense".
These were the most recurring thoughts in my head as the car drove to the scene.
We got there, and the scene was almost identical toMr. Haartie's murder. The victim, one Ray Mohapi as identified by a co-worker, was hanged at the same spot as Mr. Haartie, as though the killer was mocking us. To top it all off, he left his signature object at the scene.
There wasn't anything distinct about this particular scene, the usual modus operandi, same tools used, everything was the same. I had to leave the scene, go get some air and I found myself at home and decided to call it a day even though I knew I would get reprimanded.
Some time around midnight, I logged into one of the black hat websites as part of my job to get the insight on how dark web works, then an anonymous user in one of the deep web sites posted a list of all the dead victims of the serial killer.
I literally jumped out of the bed. Some names there weren't even known by the police, and some weren't even dead yet.
In a few hours, the people on that list who were still alive became targets of social media, being referred to by nearly everyone. People who were once unknown, rising to fame in such a horrendous fashion.
It was like my favourite artist already knew: "You're nobody 'til somebody kills you".