Life is a story, every person is a character and everyone is a narrator. I have lived a thousand lives and taken but only one. I traveled to places one only sees in the most terrorizing dreams. I have done things that are considered inimitable by people. I am deemed detectable through the eyes of criminologists. I have discovered the truth to crime committed and those to come. Casey Taylor was my given name at born; now I live as Taylor Webb, private I-detective. If you’re wondering why are how this to place, sit back because story time begins right now.
“Hurry up Case I want to use the bathroom” “Get out now!!” exclaimed my twelve-year old brother, Travis. It seems like the only place where I can be myself and yet I have to share it. As if it wasn’t enough being woken up by my alarm clock that hasn’t worked in year to having to share the only tranquil place; I was always tormented. My siblings bring a whole new meaning to the phrase “sibling rivalry”. Everyone wanted attention and being that there are sixteen of us and only one of my mothers; it was very hard. “Didn’t you hear me Casey?” “Open this door now before I break it down and punch you silly,” said Travis as his voice amplifies. “Oh, I see you want to play tough eight-year old girl now” he get louder “guess what mommy not here to stop me.” If there was hope of him going away, I was there waiting for it. Suddenly I hear “Boom, boom, boom” it was Travis trying to break down the door.
As he gets ready to take the last shot, I open the door and he falls on the floor. Before I knew it my mom was at the door. “Mommy, mommy you’re home. Travis tried to hurt me again.” “Now, where is he?” yelled my mother “in the bathroom on the floor” I replied. “Listen, Casey I don’t want you to end up like me or those people in the street. You are going to get an education from the best schools in the country! Do you hear me? And, don’t forget mama loves you like cornbread.” It hard to think about it but to be honest those were the last words she said to me before fed all of us and went back to work. Less than two miles away from our apartment bedroom, her body was found assaulted and covered in stab wounds to the stomach. With remorse, police officers said “For the record, your mother I had put up quite a fight. We’re sure that the skin found hanging off her fingernails is enough to determine ethnicity.”
My life wasn’t been the same since. I’m twenty-four and still at times feel like that little- lost girl, whose hopes . “Detective Webb, I have some crucial files of past homicides that are allegedly connected to the Rudy Trudy killer. I need for you to search for the relatives of past and give me feedback as soon as possible” Officer Jacknoff continues “so, how was the two week vacation?” “Ah, same as every year, nothing too old and nothing new” I blithely responded. THINK Casey now think; now according to the files these homicides are the real root to the Rudy Trudy killer’s strategy. As it turns out the killer searches for the families of homicide victim and kill them. Thinking to myself I say, “I think it was time I gave Jacknoff a break and did this one on my own.”
Tuesday, six in the morning victim, a thirty-year old man found stabbed repeatedly in the stomach. Thirty- year old was Frank Goldberg, a father of a decease daughter; he was reported dead upon arrival in the New Town Hospital. “That’s it Tom I can’t take this. I just can’t! I have to catch this sadistic bastard,” I said with an ambivalent attitude. Before for I said another word, Lieutenant Crossley stepped in “Webb, you’re not doing this case alone.” He continued shouting as I reached to open my car door “Webb, Webb!” It had unexpectedly blew up in my face; killing and injuring the innocent by-standers. It was relative that the killer was giving a warning.
Three suspects were sent to the precinct for DNA collection and questioning. Although each seems to match the profiles given to the police by the so-call witness, I knew that they had nothing to do with the incident. Later that evening I received two letters under my door each that spelled out the words UOY MI T EG ANNOG. I initially felt like giving up on this case but a compulsive consciousness caused me not to. After staying up watching the complicated puzzle I finally received the message: I’m gonna get you.
Immediately, I processed the letter for fingerprints and continued on the case. I received a phone call, the person on the line sounded like a man saying “I wish I may, I wish might, I wish too many but your mines tonight.” The room in my apartment became still, but before I could respond hangs up.
Next day the same phone call but this time I spoke first “Roses are red violets are blues I know secret so just reveal who you are.” Puzzled by my comment, he hung up the phone. “Detective Webb, victim survived the Rudy Trudy killer, her name is Rebecca Stain. I figured that she would feel a lot more comfortable talking to a woman.” “No problem Jacknoff I’ll be there in about five to ten minutes” I assured him.
“Hi, Rebecca would you be able to answer a few questions for me” I asked. “I saw his face, his horror face, he wants to cause harm…. but I know who he is” Rebecca yells. After undergoing some thorough questioning, I have received an image of the culprit. It was then fax immediately to the precinct and release to the presses for receive further information. He was later reported chasing a man down the street on the corner on Lexinu and Hauptman.
He was centered by the police, still he continued to flee. He escaped and made it as far the night-dark alleys where he met his match, me. “Here we are; we finally meet. Too bad this conversation is going to be brief. “On July 1999, Cela Roberti was stabbed; years later her parents. On October 2000, Gregory Topplin was stabbed; his parents were found months later in the pond. I’m I going too fast for you are do you see a connection.” “She was beautiful, I wanted to be a good man, but I couldn’t. She wouldn’t let me see you for at your first pre-k graduation. She didn’t love me enough to believe that I could change, I could. If I just was given the chance. I’m your father,” the killer said with tacit. it was over it was all over no more lies or heartache, he was gone. Well, as for me let’s just say my orange jumpsuit doesn’t match my eyes.
