Now, I would like to clearly state, for the record, that I had no involvement in the matter other than the fact that I discovered the body, okay? I reported it to the police straight away, in person and without going anywhere near the room upon finding my employee. Do you understand that? Good. Now, let me tell you why I believe that this was the work of a lunatic that has been harassing our store for the past month.
Just after the fifth or so we began receiving calls late at night. We run a twenty-four hour business, you understand? We don’t often get calls, as you can tell from our history, but we do get them. Strangers pitch up; we fill the car with gas and send them on their merry way. Occasionally we get the fool who tries to make a run for it without paying, but ever since we set up those automatic blockers, they can’t pull stunts like that. However, this caller is far worse.
He would harass the Sally, the poor girl. She worked hard and it was the last thing she needed. I know her family and they were scared when she told them about this bastard. The man spoke right up to the phone, just filled with static, spit and venom. A real dirt bag was what we first thought, but the next night shift she had we received another call from him. It was at this point we realized he knew Sally’s schedule and was taking advantage of it.
I honestly considered changing my shifts so I would be there with her during her night shifts, but she was the one who told me not to bother. She felt confident enough to look after herself and not to mention our mechanic was working that night too, rest his poor soul. I didn’t even know he was another victim until your officers brought it to my attention.
Sorry, what was that? No, I don’t think he had any involvement either. He was a little shifty, but he was hill-folk. Trust me when I say he wouldn’t hurt a butterfly, directly or indirectly. His voice didn’t match the psycho either. What? I can’t use that word? Well, that’s exactly what he is, a psychopath; a terrible, murdering, psychopathic monster.
Now, where was I…? Ah, right, that night I did receive a call to my house phone from Dale, the mechanic who told me that he needed to order a part and needed my permission. I shouted at him of course, it was too late at night to receive a call like that. I made to hang up, but soon I heard something else over the line. It was Sally and the two were arguing. I only heard a brief snippet, something about the phone, probably her telling him not to call me; then he hung up.
Now, once more, I would like to say that Dale is harmless and wouldn’t hurt a fly. He certainly wouldn’t hurt Sally because we shouted at him; he is far too used to that. However, what raised my suspicions is when you showed me the call history. That night we didn’t receive a call from the lunatic. After receiving so many calls from the psycho I found that incredibly unusual. I’m not telling you how to do your job or anything, but I highlighted the caller number and you could trace him through…
“Sir, thank you for your information,” the county officer interrupted holding up his hands to calm me down. “However, when it comes to tracing numbers we often fall short of public expectations if I am being honest. We are not your CSI show, but don’t worry. The case is incredibly sensitive and has raised a lot of attention, as you can imagine. We are dedicated, like all cases we receive, to resolving it and bringing the criminal to justice. I hope you understand.”
“Of course, I know that this must be very little to go on,” I nodded, feeling an age old click in my neck. I rubbed it and grunted the annoying pain away. “However, as I said, I know the family and feel partly responsible what has happened to my employees. Whatever assistance I can give you I will give gladly.”
“That’s great to hear,” the officer nodded with a half-smile, taking the phone history from the table and putting it in his desk drawer. “Now, not to be rude, but…”
“Oh, don’t worry, I will leave now,” I murmured politely, standing up and heading to the door.
As I reached for the doorknob I heard the ring of a phone behind me. I turned my eyes from the sight of the dark outside back to the officer’s desk. He plucked the phone and held it to his ear. He noticed I was still on the room and watching him with perhaps a hint of worry. The officer smiled and gave me thumbs up as he began talking with what was either another civilian or colleague. I don’t know what made me so tense, but I pushed it out of my thoughts and climbed into my old pickup. I put it in gear and was soon traveling in and out of streetlights gaze on my way home. It was only around halfway that I once more heard ringing.
Ringing all around me; upon further investigation I found that there were several phones in my car. One in glove box, below my seat, at the pedals, under the passage seat and several I could hear in the back. I was terrified, but I need only answer the nearest one before they all stopped.
“Enough is enough, I am still here, stop talking, stop talking, stop talking about me,” the familiar, spine-melting voice spat into the phone.
I didn’t know what to say to him. He just continued to chant the words, ‘stop talking’ and realized he must have seen me leave the police station.
“I will stop,” I murmured back, fear showing so clear in my weak voice.
“He says he will stop, but of course he won’t,” the voice groaned to someone else. “So many people talk about me know, so many, so many, so many talk about me!”
My breathing became suddenly erratic and I hung up. For a painful still moment my body and mind froze, wondering if that was a good thing to do. I felt a cool breath on the back of my neck.
“Do you really think I’m a psychopath?”
Be sure to follow!