Wednesday: Story of a Serial Killer

  “A 999 call has confirmed a gruesome thing. Meet me there."

  “Where?” I inquired.

  “Holy Apostles. 47 Cumberland Street. You know the way?”

  “Yes."

  We hung up after he said “expecting you!”

  This call was a blessing in disguise. I didn’t know how this wet cold night would have turned out for me. I dashed to the fitted wardrobe and pulled out a denim jean, a T- shirt and overcoat; and wore them before I got my car keys.

  The dark night was cold. It sent shivers down my spine as balls of fluffy white cotton descended on me from on high. If I hadn’t put on an overcoat I’d have frozen like I was in Pluto, perhaps.

  I entered my green saloon, adjusted the rearview mirror, fastened my seat belt, ensured that the air vent gave heat, checked my wing mirror, wiped off the balls of fluffy white cotton from the windscreen with the windscreen wipers and backed the saloon out of the driveway.

  CHAPTER TWO

  REVEREND FATHER Bud Myles was the parish priest of Holy Apostles; and Holy Apostles’ parish house had been desecrated.

  Father Keith Bloom, the Assistant Parish Priest, stood near the bedside table and gazed at the corpse on the bed. He was petrified, “Father Bud was last seen after this evening’s Christmas Eve mass.”

  The room smelled of fresh blood!

  Father Bud Myles’ corpse laid on top his purple duvet which covered by half the white bottom sheet. He was nude with his cassock rolled up to his chest level. His black trousers and blue underpants were on his red-rugged floor.

  His legs were wide open like the Vitruvian man while his scrotal sac looked like it had been crushed with a mallet as creamy fluid and blood had gushed out from his battered and smashed testicles.

  On the wall close to the mirror which rested on the vanity table was handwriting in blood. Crimson:

  M:T – 19+21+3+9+20+9+22+5+12

  This was insane.

  Detective Chief Inspector Hugh; Detective Sergeant Park Baker and I gazed at the stunning puzzle while photographs of the scene were taken.

  While we were still absorbed in the handwriting on the wall, Home Office Pathologist, Doctor Ben Knapman entered and screamed “Holy Creator!” He…