Towards the evening they finally arrived at the destination, but it was not at all what they had been expecting. In the end of the street stood the old villa. It looked so out of place surrounded by all the modern houses on Spencer Street.
All rights reserved © 2013 Josephine Joyil
Dr. Alice Argent and Detective James Cullen stepped out of the minivan and made their way to the front door of the house.
There was an elderly woman sitting on a rocking chair on the porch.
“Mrs.McArthur?” Argent asked.
“Yes.” snapped the elderly women. Her cold grey eyes that lacked of any signs of life sent a chill down Alice’s spine. McArthur sat with a straight back for she is a proper lady who disapproves of slouching. And why shouldn’t she? Your posture says a lot about you.
“I am Dr. Alice Argent. This is Detective James Cullen.” Argent introduced,“We were sent to investigate about the disappearance of Isaac Dawson.”
“Is it alright if we have a look around his room for clues?” Asked Detective Cullen.
“If you must” Mrs.MacArthur replied.
“The victim’s neck and back were swollen up with rashes. Did he have any know allergies?”
“Not that I know of.” replied Mrs.McArthur.
“According to his medical record, he was a perfectly healthy boy, mentally and physically. ” said James, “But it also stated that his last checkup was ten years ago. Why was this?”
“Like you said detective, he was a healthy boy.” Replied Mrs.McArthur.
“Are you saying that he didn’t get sick even once for the past ten years?”
“Yes.”
“Not even a common fever?”
“No.”
“I don’t believe that for a moment.”
“If I didn’t know any better detective, I’d say you’re interrogating me.” Mrs. McArthur snapped, “I raised that boy as if he were my own son ever since his mother died. I made sure that he stayed healthy. If you are questioning my parental instincts, keep it to yourself.”
“With all due respect ma’am, your ‘parental instincts’ seem to not have been strong enough. In case you haven’t noticed the boy is dead.”
“That’s enough detective.” commanded Dr.Argent, “I think it is best if you search for clues in Isaac’s room, and I ask Mrs.McArthur about the boy’s medical records. I am the doctor after all.”
James gave a simple nod and left for Isaac’s room. While he was searching Isaac’s room for clues, Alice was trying to learn more about the death.
“Was he suicidal?” Asked Alice
“Not that I knew of.” Said Mrs.McArthur.
“What happened to his mom?”
“She died of an about ten years ago.”
“Did that affect his mental health?” Asked Alice.
“Like I said before, I don’t know.”
Alice regarded this for a moment. She had the gut feeling that Mrs.McArthur wasn’t telling her the completely truth. She decided to give it another try. “Did he have any phobias or mental disorders?” She asked
“He did have a very mild case of kleptomania.”
“How mild?”
“The child has an irrational habit of robbing drugstores.”
“Did you ever have him treated?”
“No. That’s the problem with this generation. You don’t need to be treated if you’re a thief. You need to be punished.”
“You wouldn’t call a kleptomaniac a thief though would you?” Asked Alice. “ They can’t help that they have this disorder.”
“It’s my job as his legal guardian to ensure that he breaks free of his nasty habits.” Snapped Mrs.McArthur.
“How did you punish him?”
“Now that’s none of your business.” She snapped. Alice spent the rest of the evening with James combing Isaac’s room for clues on how he died. They didn’t find anything until Alice tripped over a loose floorboard.
Curiosity got the best of her. She lifted the floorboard. Beneath it laid a worn out journal bound in leather. It was quite charming. The smell of old paper lingered in the air the moment the journal was opened. There weren’t any dates in the journal. Just names and a description. Alice knew that it was an invasion of privacy, but curiosity made her keep reading. Alice’s eyes widened with shock and fear as she flipped through the pages. Her heart was pounding through her chest. Ignorance was indeed bliss, she realized, for now the mystery of how Isaac and his mother died was solved;on the other hand, she now knew who he next victims were.
She turned around to see that James left.
“James,” she screamed, “We need to get out of here.”
She grabbed the journal and dashed out of the room.
“James!”
“James is gone, you are next.” She said. The hair on the back of Alice’s neck stood up. A chill raced down her spine. Alice turned around and got one last glance at those grey, lifeless, eyes before her own eyes lacked of any signs of life.
Mrs.MacArthur looked down at her journal and started to write.
The last two murders were quite boring. Just a simple gunshot. It’s whom you kill that really matters, isn’t it? A detective and a doctor in the same day! What an achievement!
Mrs. Dawson’s death was really an accident. I didn’t think that she was an asthmatic, and neither of us knew that she was allergic to pollen. How would we know? I never allowed her the privilege of exiting her room. Perhaps I shouldn’t have sent my poor young maid to work in the garden that spring morning. My proudest accomplishment was the boy, Isaac.
Mrs. McArthur paused and flipped back to the entry labeled Isaac Dawson.
Stealing used to be punishable by death back in the middle ages. Why shouldn’t kleptomania be punishable as well? The word would b a better place without those thieves. ‘Medical Condition’ what a pathetic excuse.
I noticed that the boy had a habit of robbing pet stores. Insects were his main object of interest. I was only trying to teach him a lesson at first. I learned somewhere that he most painful and bite was that from a bullet ant. I wanted to test exactly how painful. So I placed a dew under his pillow. I discovered that these ants don’t just bite, they also sent out a pheromone to signal other ants to bite as well.
Of course, I wasn’t too cruel. After a few hours of watching him scream and wither in pain, I held him down and presented him with an remedy. 100 ml of concentrated Hemlock. I told him h could end his suffering there and then. If he just drank the Hemlock he would die. Slowly, but eventually. Otherwise, he will be in pain for the next ten hours, and I will set more ants on him once the ten hours are over. He obviously took the vial. Unfortunately for him, I didn’t mention that the vial would send his body into a paralysis.While his mind remained wide awake. He was capable of feeling the pain, but unable to move.
I watched, intruded by his rapid breathing. He tried, but failed, to talk. Life was slowly slipping out of his electric blue eyes. He tried to give me a dirty look. Soon, he just closed his eyes, then slipped into a coma, then death.