Behind the Fence, page 13
I just sat there, the look of pride on her face nearly broke my heart.
“Why are you doing this for me?”
I paused, thinking of what kind of answer I wanted to give her. “Because he hurt someone I love, and she will never get a chance to heal from this. He took her life, so I want to be able to at least give you back yours.”
She sat for a second, and then made up her mind.
“I'm ready.”
I handed her the key and reminded her, “Don't get close. If you need to remove the gag, just put it back on when done. Just lock the door and slide the key underneath when you are done. I'll handle the rest.”
Two hours went by before the key was slid under my door. I waited an hour, did some more conversing between the two phones and went to room 407. Barney seemed very quiet. I took the gag off and sat down on the bed. He didn't struggle.
“So, what do you think?”
He didn't answer. Well, it really didn't matter what he thought. If he really cared in the first place, then he wouldn’t have hurt these girls. I gave him some vodka, finished up the bottle and put his prints on it. I then took two more bottles and poured the contents down the drain and also put his prints on them. I then threw them around the room. When I was done I sat down again and looked at Barney
He looked rough. And smelled even rougher. Without an air conditioner, the room was very warm and he was sweating out the vodka. His eyes were bloodshot and he had a wild look to him. He was covered in his own urine, and his shirt looked like he had either drooled on himself or vomited a bit. Not to mention his eye was starting to look rather bruised. I shot him up with a big dose, and he was out. I went back to my room.
I started feeling guilty. Turning off the camera, I sat in my room and started to think. Maybe it wasn't my place to do this. Maybe I am just as bad as him. He killed, I planned to kill. He tortured, I was torturing. He looked awful. I was really torturing him. He did have a rough life and maybe he was getting better. What if he really did learn from all this? The morality of it began to weigh heavily on me. So very heavy. What do I do now? If I let him go, he would kill me, Alice. and whatever future victims he would have. How do I handle the situation I'm in. I created this...what do I do? All night I thought, and cried, and wrote, and thought. I was a wretched mess of morals and sympathy.
| 36 |
I was awake when the sun rose. I watched its rays slowly touch the corners of my room. It accented the old brown carpet and the yellow bedspread. I laughed at myself. Normally, I would have been freaked out at the lice or bedbugs I may get being in this place. Definitely not at the top of my list right now. This afternoon was the big one, the climax of this situation. And I had to figure out what to do after that. I had been up most of the night and still hadn't come to a conclusion. I had to finish with this part of the plan, but this evening I had some serious decisions to make. Getting out of my sleeping bag, I donned my gross clothes. At least I would only have to look like this and wear these things for one more day.
I went next door and checked in on Barney. I took off his gag, and he promptly glared at me and said “Your fucking games ain’t working. I'm going to kill you.” Ignoring this, I gave him some water and then more vodka. He silently drank the cup. I offered him a small sandwich, which he ate from my hand greedily. And again I injected him with some more heroin. His arm was looking very many shades of bruised. I was having a very hard time with this. I stood by the restraints, almost just letting him go. The only thing stopping me was knowing he would kill me if I released him. I had to leave. In a moment of sympathy, I turned on the TV for him, washed his face, gave him some more water and then went back to my room. I was sitting in silence when suddenly there was a knock at my door. Very carefully I opened up the door, not knowing who it would be, preparing to act the part of my character. Part of the plan was that nobody knew the hotel I chose or where I was. Eric didn't even know. I had lied to him about where I was just to keep him out of it. He was sitting by his phone waiting for me to call if there was a problem. I was on my own with this. It was just to keep everyone safe and free from suspicion. At my door was a middle-aged woman, very obese. She had short brown hair accented by a bright green headband. I was pretty sure I knew who she was, but she sure didn't look like what I imagined.
“May I help you?”
“I hope you are who I'm looking for and that I'm not too late. I'm Bella.” She obviously had been crying and had dark circles under her eyes. She looked how I felt.
“Please, come in.”
She came in and sat down. The bed creaked under her weight. She looked at me with an apologetic look on her face “I'm so sorry for not showing yesterday. I sat outside for an hour and just couldn't bring myself to come. But I've been up all night and know that I will always regret giving up this chance. I think I need this.”
Ah, so this was Barney's parking lot victim. The poor woman. She looked so fragile, regardless of her weight.
I knelt down beside her and handed her the key.
“Room 407. Remember. Don't get close. I have him slightly drugged up. And when you leave here, leave all your pain here with him. Just lock the door and slide the key underneath when you are done. I'll handle the rest.”
I took her hand. “You don't have to do this. You can do whatever you want. This is just an option for you. Turn around and leave if you want.”
She laughed, while crying, and squeezed my hand. “Thank you, but I need to face him. I need this. I've lived in terror ever since. All this weight is from trying to eat myself better, I've been to therapy, taken pills, and even thought of seriously killing myself a couple of times. I'm thinking this may be the one thing that actually helps. Thank you for your call. You made this for me.” I didn't mention there were others. She heaved herself up and took the key. As she left, she turned around giving me a half-smile,“Thank you for this.”
Again I sat down and waited. It took a while till I heard the door next door close. I heard some muffled yelling and some thumps. But that was part of the agreement. Time to do whatever they wanted. Whatever they needed to do to heal. I had even hinted that if it got bad, I would take care of that as well. It was their decision. Fifteen minutes later the key was slid under my door. I made some more phone calls between the two phones, waited for about twenty minutes and went back. Barney had a broken nose and his lip was split. It looked like she had taken a few swings at his face, as his face was already starting to swell. I asked him if he wanted some more heroin to take the pain away. He nodded. As I was getting everything ready, he began to cry. I took the gag off. “Please, please, let me go. I promise I will be good. I promise I won't hurt nobody again. I'm so sorry. I really am sorry. Please.” It tore at my heart. I wasn't sure I could do this.
I gave him his shot. He slowed down and the tears stopped. I felt bad for him. I sat down on the bed, gathering my stern face, “Listen, you've been good so far. Remember the rules. You have one more visit this afternoon.”
He nodded. “I'll be good. I'll listen to the rules. I promise.”
I had to leave rather quickly. I had heard his “sorry's” before and heard his promises before. I was so torn between sympathy for him and my hatred. In addition, his stench was unbearable.
The old Honda Civic groaned under the weight of the woman as she shifted into the driver's seat. She didn't know how to feel. She just sat there, winded from her walk two blocks to her car. She didn't see the homeless man glaring at her as she stumbled over his box, nor did she hear the woman on the other side of the street shouting at her own personal demons. She didn't smell the urine on the street or notice the stray dog that ran across her path. Her pain was transforming. She sat in her car, processing what had happened. She flexed her hands, just realizing that they hurt. A smile slowly spread through her tears. It was the first time she felt pain in a long time. And the pain felt good. It meant she was still alive to feel it. She was still alive to live another day. She looked around. She saw the homeless man, the woman, the dog; she realized she felt lighter, her shoulders weren't quite as heavy. As she started up the car, a song came on the radio, and for the first time in a very long time, she began to hum to the tune. She had faced her monster, her personal torment, and for the first time in a very long time, she felt a glimmer of hope that she might just be okay one day.
| 37 |
Back in the hotel room, I waited. Sat and waited. I watched the sun slowly rise into the sky, knowing that the time was fast approaching. I made sure to have a text conversation with the two phones about a fight that Barney got into. There wasn't much to do. I watched some TV and got lost in my thoughts. Again a knock at the door. I knew who this was. I opened the door and there they were. Two of the nicest people I had ever met, Indy's parents. They drew back, shocked at my appearance. I smiled, “Just go with it.”
They entered my room, gave me a hug and sat down.
“Honey, you shouldn't have done this.” Her mom so reminded me of Indy, she had the same curly hair. Her dress was free-flowing and she had about six necklaces on. I'm pretty sure her sandals were from the 60's or had at least seen Woodstock. Her beautiful hair seemed to have gotten grayer and lost some of its bounce since I last saw them. Her dad, in simple blue jeans and a t-shirt, didn't say a word.
“Indy always spoke of your sensibility, your desire to do good. You don't need to go down this path. We have forgiven him, you should too.”
She was shaking my already shaken world. I had to at least finish this part of the plan.
“Mr. and Mrs. Greyson. It's a done deal. You can take this chance or not, but it is here for you. I am not going back on this. You flew all the way over here and I know it wasn't to convince me. Part of you wants this chance. My suggestion, take it. Not many families get this chance.”
Her father then spoke up “How can you guarantee this?”
The lie came easier off my tongue. “He was given a drug that will make him aware, just not remember. Do what you need. In five hours he won't remember a thing. And the only other person who knows is me. I can guarantee that this will never come back to haunt you. All I ask is when you leave, you leave your pain with him. I'll burden the rest.”
Her mom, crying, took me in her arms. I really wanted to pull away, but I felt that she needed to hold me more than I needed to get away.
“Honey, that's the point. We can never just leave our pain. It will be with us forever. The person who caused this pain must have felt quite a bit himself. I can't continue the circle. Don't continue it. It should end here. Indy would have never wanted this.”
I pulled back, having to be solid through this. Holding my head up high and sounding colder then I felt, I stated,
“It's a done deal. Take it or leave it.”
I held out the key.
“When you are done, just slide it under the door.”
Seconds passed by. Nobody moved. Her father came to me and reached out. Her mom gasped “What are you doing?”
He took the key and turned to her. “My love, you have felt your pain in your way. I need to grieve and feel the pain in my way. Please understand and please forgive me. I need this.” He turned to me, “Thank you for this gift” and began to walk out. Her mom looked back and forth from me to him leaving. And then her decision was made.
“Wait, I'm coming with you. I can't let you hurt him. Wait just a moment.” She turned to me and gave me a hug. “My daughter loved you. Be safe. Forgiveness is the only way.”
“Mrs. Greyson, that's the point. I loved Indy. She always wanted to make the world a better place. I'm doing that, just not in the way she believed in. She did her thing, I'm doing mine. Whatever our process is, the goal is the same. Her way isn't going to work this time. This time it's my way.”
She smiled through her tears. “May you do good with your time here,” turned around and walked away. They closed the door behind them.
About twenty minutes later the key was slipped under my door. I sat and waited. This time I didn't go into see Barney. I had some thinking to do. After some time I stood up, cleaned up room 409, took the key and went next door. Even though I had some decisions to still make, I knew that now it was my turn to heal and leave the pain with him.
Fifteen hours later I was showered and sitting in the morning sun on Stacy's yacht. There were no remnants of my past few days. Everything tying me to that place was destroyed. I was clean, refreshed and back to myself. Eric was next to me and we were enjoying a morning margarita.
| 38 |
The detective examined the body. It reeked of feces, not showering, vodka and decay. The scene was your everyday seedy hotel, the place where people went to hide their criminal activities. He had been called to this hotel often. Most of the time it was drug overdoses. It looked like this was going to be another drug overdose. He was tired, tired of people wasting their lives away with drugs. Tired of always having to find the family and tell them that their loved ones had finally died. Tired of the helplessness of loved ones. And here he was again. Going to have to spend a few more hours here, then find the loved ones, notify them, and then comes the paperwork. He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to ward off that tension headache that threatened. He leaned over closer. Something about this guy seemed like he should remember him.
He walked around the room. Heroin needles, vodka bottles, the TV blaring, and the victim sprawled out on the bed. He looked like he had a good beating a few days prior. His wrists were bruised as if he'd been tied up. It appeared as if he had defecated on himself. The window was open a crack, letting in some fresh air through the bars. It appeared as if the individual had been here for awhile, probably living here. There was a bunch of clothes strewn about and a cell phone on the desk. He made a mental note to check that phone soon.
He went to talk to the front desk guy, a larger guy who didn't seem interested in helping him.
“Yup, he's a regular. I don't ask their business, but I know he had that room rented for three weeks. I think his name was like after some kids thing, like Barney...yeah, that was it, Barney. Big guy, pain in my ass. Ya know, I'm sick of all these people dying here. I'm thinking of getting out.” The front desk guy turned and began mumbling to himself. It didn't seem like he was going to be much help at all.
“What about your camera?” as the detective pointed to the obvious camera aimed at the desk.
The front desk guy stopped mumbling for a second and just shrugged his shoulders. “Ah, it's just there for show, hasn't worked in years.”
“Who else has been renting here during the three weeks?” pressed the detective, feeling overly tired and wishing that he had that fourth cup of coffee.
“I don't ask them questions, so they don't tell me. As long as I get my money on time, I don't want to know.”
Going door to door, he got similar results.
“Nope, didn't see nobody.”
“Didn't see nothing.”
“I ain't seen a person.”
“Think I saw a hooker, maybe a man, I'm not sure.”
The detective got what information he could and then called his precinct, by now they had hopefully gotten a hit on his prints and could identify the individual.
“His name is Barney Shever. Been in the system quite a bit for assaults and rapes. He was supposed to be living in a supervised house but kept disappearing on them. He has been gone for chunks of times. He was probably coming to the hotel. He actually is a suspect in a rape/murder that happened downtown last week” reported the identification specialist.
So that is him. Detective Manning knew this guy. At least another monster was off the street. No loved ones to notify. Manning felt a sense of relief that he wouldn't be investigating any victims caused by this guy. He wrapped things up at the hotel.
Later that week the autopsy report showed anaphylactic shock from a bee sting. Manning had taken note that his epi-pen case was on the other side of the room in his bag.
Detective Manning was tired. After all his years, he was just glad this monster was off the street. It seemed that the victims never stopped, and he was relieved that this was one little stop that he could be glad about. He had hardened himself to the pain that families and victims went through. It was the only way he could survive doing his job. A lot of the time people he interviewed complained about his lack of compassion, but that was his way of dealing. If he let himself care about every murder victim, every rape victim, every devastated human being, then he wouldn't be any use to them in getting them justice. He was cold for the victim's benefit.
His summary read “Clear cut case. His phone showed drug purchasing activity, he had track marks in his arms days old, the S&M gear matched his bruises exactly, he was known for his aggressive sexual ways. Probably had a prostitute tie him up. Some individuals reported seeing a prostitute visit him on occasion. Upon asking around and searching the neighborhood, no one matching the prostitute's description known or found. The open window let in the bee that stung him. He was so high that he didn't even realize he needed his epi-pen. No need to look further. Accidental Death.”
| 39 |
So this is my new life for awhile. Sitting on the deck, sunning myself. Three weeks of just relaxing and enjoying my freedom. Hearing the waves lap against the boat, letting the rocking put me to sleep whenever I wanted, eating and drinking like a queen, what heaven! I could get used to the life of the rich. Eric has come out to visit on Stacy's helicopter when he can. He keeps me updated with everything and we don't really talk about what happened.
At one point, when Eric asked me if it was hard killing Barney, I hesitated. The hardest thing I've probably ever had to do, but also the easiest. I flashed back to when I had walked in for the final conversation.
