He
always thought of this part as cutting the calf out of the herd. The problem: Pick up the woman somewhere, somehow without any witnesses
to the event. The solution this
time: he found her hitchhiking
late at night on the deserted street in a poorly lit part of town. He stopped the rented car and offered
her a ride. She looked at him,
decided he was safe, jumped in the car, congratulated herself on her good luck,
and asked if he was heading towards the next town.
"Yes,
I am. Where can I drop you
off?"
"Anywhere
near the middle of town would be great."
"You've
got it."
The
car started off in the right direction.
"Can
I offer you a little brandy? It's
cold out there," he said.
"I'd
love a sip or two."
He
removed a flask from his pocket and passed it over.
"Thanks
a lot," she replied, and took a long slow swallow. She returned the flask to the driver.
Five
minutes later the long-acting drug in the brandy had worked its magic and she
was completely helpless. Wide
awake, but totally unable to move or speak. She stared at the driver with terrified eyes. The driver steered the car onto a dirt
road and drove about half a mile into the woods. After stopping the car, he came around to the passenger
side, and pulled her out onto the ground.
She noted that there was grass and dirt in the clearing. He pawed her body for a few moments,
but didn't seem interested in undressing or sexually assaulting her beyond the
unwanted touching. Out came his
syringe, and with a few well-coordinated movements he injected a few mL of
fluid directly into her jugular vein.
The powerful drug did its work and she was now completely paralyzed.
He
opened the trunk of the car. Out
came a disposable paper coverall and disposable latex rubber gloves, which he
donned. Out came a large machete
and a protective plastic face shield, which he also put on. He returned to his terrified victim,
dragged her about 150 feet from the car, and proceeded to systematically whack
away at arms and legs with the machete for several minutes after she had
completely bled out. The
mutilation of the corpse continued for what seemed to be a long time after she
was clearly dead. Finally he
dropped the machete, picked up a small stick from the ground nearby, and dipped
the end of the stick in one of the many pools of blood around the body. Very carefully, using the blood as ink,
he wrote the words "no mas" on the ground near the body. At that point he made a low, throaty
growl that might have meant that he was finally satisfied with the result, and
the machete overkill came to an end.
The
bloodstained and splattered paper coveralls, latex gloves, and face shield came
off and were thrown on top of the dismembered body. So was the machete.
Careful examination revealed that there was no apparent blood visible
anywhere on him or his clothing after the disposables were taken off. Back to the trunk of the car from which
he removed a large plastic container of gasoline that he poured over the body
and the disposables. One flick of
a match and everything went up in flames, which burned long and hot. When nothing remained but charred
flesh, teeth, bones, and ashes he returned to the car and went on to his
destination, satisfied that any forensic evidence had been destroyed in the
fire. Nothing remained that could
link him to the dead young woman, who was a perfect stranger. He smiled a genuine smile of satisfaction.
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