Murder at Futura Lane

Detective Bill Pearson took a swig of his convenience store coffee. “Blah! This stuff is at least a day old.” The burnt taste in the back his throat agitated his gag reflex. He could feel the stomach acid climbing up his esophagus. Popping three fruit-flavored antacid tablets, he chewed then swallowed them.

After watching the ball drop, Bill had nestled into bed with his wife, Molly. An hour later, the phone rang. Another New Year’s celebration and another murder committed. For three decades now, Detective Pearson worked on this case. The New Year’s Serial Murders had become his obsession.

Every year during January 1st, between 12:01 and 6 am, a body turns up. Near the body, a handwritten note in calligraphy with this quote from Alfred Tennyson:

“Ring out the old, ring in the new, Ring, happy bells, across the snow: The year is going, let him go; Ring out the false, ring in the true.”

The killer uses the same Modus Operandi every time — death by asphyxiation. This year, the killer dumped the corpse on Futura Lane. After leaving a New Year’s party, an intoxicated couple almost tripped over the body.

Detective Pearson shakes his head, “The same damn scenario repeats itself. The CSIs gather all potential evidence, but the murder scene is always bleach clean.”

“Detective, over here.” Bill walked over to the CSI Lead, Ben Griswald. Pearson laughed, “You know you look like an alien dressed in that forensics suit and mask.” The man was bending over something. Griswald laughed, “Pearson. If I didn’t follow the protocols, you’d blame me every time one of your detectives contaminated the evidence. Hey, quit playing around and look at this.”

Bill turned on his miniature LED Flashlight and shined it to where Ben Griswald pointed. “Bill, do you think that speck is blood on the note?”

Pearson put his reading glasses on to get a better look. “Yeah, it could be. My guess, either blood or wine.”

Ben opened a clear plastic bag. Using tweezers, he carefully placed the note inside the evidence bag. “Oh, by the way, the ME has declared the death at 1200 midnight. No surprise, huh? Also, the same victim typology as with the other murders: male, Caucasian of possible Mediterranean origin, with white thinning hair and beard, age approximation between 90 and 100-years-old.”

Bill took another drink of his coffee. “If your team has a handle on this, I am going to finish off my night in bed with Molly. The kids invited us to dinner tomorrow. I will check in with the ME on January 2nd.”

As Bill headed for his car, he stopped and turned. “Hey, Griswald, Happy New Year.”

Ben waved, “Happy New Year to you, also.”

“So, you are telling me the man has no garrote or ligature marks around his neck?”

The ME, Dr. Kate Mason, pointed to the neck area. “No.”

Bill shook his head. “Not even handprints?” Again, Dr. Mason sighed while shaking her head.

Bill pointed his gloved hand to the corpse’s neck, “What is this little nick right here?”

“As with the other New Year’s serial murder victims, This victim had a long beard. We had to shave the beard to investigate the outer throat for marks. Because of the nature of these murders, I called in the forensic mortician. He was still hungover from New Year’s Eve. Also, as with the other victims, the throat and esophagus had internal stretching and amniotic fluid.”

Bill Pearson nodded, “Yeah, yeah, each murder the killer uses a yet-to-be-determined weapon soaked or lathered with amniotic fluid. The Forensic Shrink, Dr. Sigmund, thinks that the amniotic fluid is symbolic. The killer is sending us a message.”

Dr. Mason smirked, “These profilers are too full of themselves. They speak as though their wild speculations are gospel. Their pontifications might make the headlines. But, I prefer to follow the evidence that the human body provides.”

Bill snickered, “Am I sensing a little professional jealousy here? Oh, before I forget to ask, are there any results from the red blotch on the note?”

In the middle of a bite from an egg salad sandwich, Dr. Mason covered her mouth as she spoke, “Wine.” She then laid the sandwich down on her stainless steel surgical bench.

She swallowed hard, then took a drink of bottled water. “One of the individuals who discovered the body was carrying a glass of wine. While bending over to check the victim, he spilled a drop on the note.”

“Sweet Chile of Mine” began playing on Bill’s cell phone. He looked over at Dr. Mason.”So, I like Guns and Roses. That’s my new ring tone. I better get this. It’s Ben Griswald.”

“Hey, you better get over to my office immediately. I think we have cracked the case. We found video footage. You won’t believe it unless you see it.”

“Ben, give me just a hint. I have waited nearly thirty years for this.”

“Bill, YOU HAVE TO SEE THIS.”

“Okay, okay, I am on my way.”

Bill hung up then turned to Kate, who had crammed the last bite of her sandwich into her mouth. Through a mouth full, she said, “I…am…coming…with..you.”

Bill and Kate walked into Ben’s office. He had a smirk on his face. “You are not going to believe this even after you see it. The uniforms knocked on every door at Futuro Lane. A new couple to the neighborhood, the Christies had security cameras installed. Mr. Christie frequently travels for work. He felt safer leaving Mrs. Christie and their infant at home with a good security system in place.”

Bill interrupted, “Ben, please. Fill me in with the details later. I have waited too long for this.”

“Okay!” Ben swiveled his chair around toward a 65" LED TV in the corner and pressed the play button on the remote.

Bill’s eye grew wide as he watched. An aged man walked in front of the hidden camera. He looked in all directions, then knelt on his hands and knees. He neatly placed a note next to him on the ground, then started heaving.

Bill sat forward in his seat, “What the hell! What is that coming out of his mouth?”

Dr. Mason also leaned forward, “That looks like an infant. That’s impossible. An infant cannot birth from a human’s mouth.”

Ben had already watched the video. He grinned in amusement as he watched the look on the esteemed detective and venerable doctor’s faces.

As the infant exited the man’s mouth, the man collapsed face forward into the snow. After a few moments, the infant stood and walked away.

Ben turned the video off. Bill and Dr. Mason turned toward Ben. In unison, all three said, “The murderer and the victims are one-and-the-same. Father Time is the New Year’s Serial Killer!”