Welcome to TheGreenAuthor.com. I am here to release some information about my newest book.
How do you commit the perfect murder? Can it really be done? Most detectives will tell you that there are at least 10 mistakes with a perfectly planned homicide. With modern forensics, there is little that one can do to remove all evidence from a crime scene. What if none of that mattered…
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Alex stood at the end of the street, the wind whipping all around him, wondering how he had arrived in this place. He waited patiently for the last light to go out, then he crept behind the bushes along the edge of the road. The cold night air filled his lungs; and so he zipped his jacket tighter around his throat. Quietly and quickly, he made his way to the back window and pried open the screen. The wind was coming in gusts now, and threatening to pull the screen out of his hands. The sounds of this night would help conceal his work; and for that he was thankful. Alex scanned the surroundings again, as he placed his knife under the window lock and gave it a swift turn. The lock clicked open easily and for some reason, he smiled. With one last look over his shoulder, he pushed open the window and climbed inside.
The apartment floor plan had been simple to find on the website; and he had spent days determining the best way to enter. After some careful thought, he finally decided to come in through a back window located in a small laundry room. As he made his way into the main living area, he found that it was unexpectedly cluttered. Inching forward, he hit his leg on a table, causing a small vase to tumble and roll off the edge. Alex sprung forward and caught it before it smashed to the floor, which rattled his nerves and almost sent him bolting for the door. Instead, he stood still, listening, but heard no response from the man upstairs. He wiped the vase and softly placed it back on the table, still contemplating what to do next. He knew that if he backed out now, he would lose everything.
He stood there for what seemed like an eternity before he had the courage to go toward the steps. His eyes had now adjusted to the darkness; and this flooded him with both relief and courage. Sweat beads had now formed on his forehead and under his arms, so he removed his jacket and laid it carefully on the bannister. Alex remembered that the man was somewhat dangerous; but who wouldn’t be if they found an intruder in their home? He slipped up the stairs and into the bedroom and carefully pulled the needle out of his pants pocket, then removed the sheathing. His hands were shaking, as he lifted it and slowly walked toward the sleeping man. Alex had wondered how this moment was going to feel. He had envisioned a movie-like setting, dramatic music building and an audience silently cheering on the hero, as he settled the score with some dark enemy; but there was no audience and no strong background music, except for an occasional howl from the wind outside. He was aware of his own heart beating violently, as his thoughts turned toward the bloodied body of his daughter and the horrible details of her brutal and painful death. There had been no mercy for her then; and there would be no mercy here. This man had not killed Jenny; but that did not matter.
As he moved forward, the sleeping man stirred briefly. Alex froze and listened for the man’s breathing to return to a deep, steady pace. A small tingle from his own conscience made him hesitate one last time; but again the image of his daughter’s lifeless body lying in the ditch urged him on. This sleeping man had nothing to do with Jenny’s murder; and this was what had distressed him for the last few days, as he had made final preparations for this night. One last moment to steady himself, and then he crept forward as quietly as he could. Without any further thought, Alex reached over the bed and injected the poison into the man’s arm. The eyes opened wide in response to the sudden and sharp pain of the needle; but the poison was quick to act, causing violent convulsions. Alex was not sure if the man was aware of him; but he felt the need to say something.
“That was for Lisa!” he growled, through clenched teeth.
The man’s eyes widened in horror, as the shaking stopped and his life slowly slipped away. It would be several days before he would be discovered; and from all outward appearances, it should look like a violent seizure, but no one would ever know why. Even if they suspected foul play, the poison was too new to be detected.
From this moment forward, Alex felt nothing but a sense of urgency. He replaced the screen and locked the window, then wiped it all clean of his fingerprints. One last look around, and he made his way to the front door. He peered out the front window to the street. No one was in sight, so he slowly exited the front door, locking it behind him. He wrapped the needle and placed it in a bag, and would later dispose of it at the hospital in one of the numerous red sharps disposal bins. He was back home and in bed before his wife even knew that he had been gone. He was grateful one more time that she was a very deep sleeper. Even back when Jenny had been alive, he had been the one who had had to feed her over and over during the night.
Alex turned onto his side and quietly drew himself closer to his wife. His heart continued to race, as he replayed the scene over and over. This was not who he was, but what he had been forced to become. His thoughts were a maze of distorted images; but one clear and extremely coherent theme prevailed: justice. It was a word that had haunted him for weeks now. He didn’t feel any better. He had really thought that he would. Maybe when it was all over…maybe then he would be able to let it all go. His conscience would have to wait. This was how he would be able to comprehend what he had just done.
His mind began to settle; and he felt himself begin to relax for the first time in months. He felt a deep sense of awareness that he had not expected. It was the perfect murder. No one could ever connect him to it; but it was far from over. He knew the remaining element would be more dangerous and much more important to him than what he had already accomplished. His heart began to race again; and a thin layer of moisture formed on his forehead. He sat up on the side of the bed, then made his way to the bathroom to gather himself. Looking in the mirror, the man he saw was so much older, but also wiser. He wiped his eyes, as if this would somehow clear his thoughts and wash away the growing anxiety.
How will I ever find the perfect one? Will it take months, years, or what if I never find one?
The warnings were clear; and he knew that he and Mariannes’s lives depended upon the way he completed this last extremely important task. Walking back to the bed, he again settled in close to Marianne. She was all he had left now. There was only one way to protect her: he had to move forward. It was much too late to turn back now. He laid in the dark listening to the rhythm of his wife’s breathing and feeling her heartbeat against his. The anger welled up again, as he cursed the man who had put him in this situation. Yes. He was ready. It was time for him to take the next step. He slowly began to drift off to sleep when his eyes suddenly popped open; and he sat straight up in the bed. He had accidentally left the jacket on the bannister.
More to come…email me if you like it!