The Perfect Crime

Setting (Flashbacks):

It’s been 50 years and my name has long since been forgotten. The only place left with my name on it is an old case file in the back of an old, rickety filing cabinet marked “Open For Investigation.” It’s been left to gather dust in the way back of the grey, chipped, and antique middle drawer alongside all the other cold cases. My name is filled in as “Jane Doe.” Because that’s who I was. That’s who I’ve become.

When the Police Department happens to be low on crimes to solve (which only happens to be every ten years or so) and they decide to work on a case from the cabinet, my file tends to be overlooked each time due to it being so thin from lack of evidence, and from so much time having passed, now it’s not even noticed.

Jane Doe:

I remember very little from the actual day of my murder or even why it happened.I just remember the feeling of calmness and at the end of the darkness a peace of mind. And being in a car for quite a while. Eventually I must have passed out from being so drunk because after so much darkness there’s nothing I can recall.

Killer:

I had planned this all out in my head for months, going over in detail how to pull this off. How I was going to commit the perfect crime. My motive, only to see if I could. I made sure to only take jobs that paid in cash so when I bought my tools I wouldn’t be traced. I always made sure to drive out of state and never to the same place twice to make purchases. I knew gloves would be sufficient but went the extra mile of putting myself through the physical pain of burning off my finger prints. I made sure to have a clean shaved head and made sure to only wear things that would leave behind any fibers of any sorts. I went completely off the grid. Back then the technology wasn’t as advanced as today so it was much easier to live that way.

Jane Doe:

I was 18. I ran away from home two years prior to my life ending. I knew no one would be looking for me. I got by working a minimum wage job. It was a small local, family owned business. They paid me in cash. When I first arrived in this small town I gave a false name to anyone who would be a part of my new life. I dyed and cut my hair, I even purchased fake glasses so I at least looked somewhat different. By the time I was dead it didn’t matter what I had looked like in life. My entire identity was wiped clean, and dismembered.

Time of the Murder:

Killer (Driving back to his home):

I wish that last job hadn’t taken me out so far. Less time to plan. Less time to follow her. She was a lucky find. The perfect victim. I’ve been following her for weeks now. Waiting. Watching. Learning her every move. You’d think someone would notice an outsider creeping around in this town, but no one seems to have a care in the world here. It’s sickening how easy they’re making this for me. Especially her. I’ll be forever grateful for that confession booth in that old church. It was a miracle from God. Letting her think I was the preacher and she was alone. She couldn’t have been more vulnerable, sharing her story with me. Explaining that she had to leave home and no one was looking for her. How she started a new life and changed her identity. It was almost too perfect. So, I knew it was from God himself that he had put us in this exact moment. The moment I met my victim. I almost felt sorry, with her being so young. It had to be done though. It was my purpose.

Jane Doe:

I could feel a presence. I knew someone was there. Just watching. I don’t know why. I knew I couldn’t go to the police though. They’d ask too many questions. I ignored it. I had gone out with some “friends” that night. They were the kind of friends parents would disapprove of. I didn’t have parents so it didn’t matter. We had driven out of town to an old cabin in the woods to just have a good time. I shouldn’t have had too much to drink. I must have gotten into a fight with the guy giving me a ride home cause I just remember him leaving me on the side of the road at 2 am. I thought he had come back though after trying to walk for about half an hour. Like he had felt bad and decided he shouldn’t leave a drunk, defenseless girl out on her own. Clearly that wasn’t the case. I was too drunk to realize it wasn’t him and got in the car anyway.

Killer:

Tonight is the night. I have done my preparations. I’ve been planning for months. I can do this.

I followed her to the cabin. I watched from a distance so as not to be seen. Eventually she left with some guy. They weren’t in the car long before he dumped her on the side of the road. I watched her try to walk for 30 minutes. It was clear she was extremely intoxicated. I pulled up beside her. She must have thought I was the guy coming back for her. She got right into my car. How easy this was turning out to be. I drove for a bit. She passed out. I pulled off to an abandoned side street I had found. She was a heavy sleeper. I got the first of my supplies. I tied her hands and feet. Taped her mouth and put a breathable sack over her head. I threw her in the trunk. I started to drive again.

Jane Doe:

Where was I? Why couldn’t I move my hands or feet? Was it still night? What was over my mouth? I knew this was wrong. I don’t know why I didn’t try to scream. Why I didn’t try to fight. Maybe it was because at that point I felt like I had nothing left to fight for. I’d completely given up on myself. So, what was the point of fighting?

Killer:

We had arrived. I drove for nearly a full day. Out of state. This barn had been run down for a while and it was obvious no one was going to be coming around here anytime soon. That's why I picked it for the place I would commit this act. She was awake now. Hung over, but awake. I moved her to the table. I sedated her, I’m not cruel after all. I began the process. I was there for five hours. Three of which were spent cleaning up. I buried the box. Put a large boulder over it, got in my car and sat for a moment with my hands on the wheel. I had done it. It was dark by this time. I started to drive and just never stopped. I was gone.