Hi everyone,
I've been exploring today. New city, new layouts to learn. I'm getting good at memorizing cities. Thank you all for your support and suggestions. Once again, these are all past events. But I am taking your ideas into consideration for how to fight back here, in the present. A few of you have offered to help in other ways, and I appreciate the offers, but this is my fight. I've ruined so many other lives by involving other people. No, David is mine to ruin, even if I die trying.
Also, I've looked back over it and realized I forgot something, but now I've forgotten what it was. So forgive me if I make a correction in the next part.
Another thing, I try to talk to as many people as I can in the comments unless my reply will have to contain spoilers. But 'live' events have forced me to limit that interaction because of time and the sheer number of you. Forgive me.
Now I'll continue.
I called Clark's mom right away. I had their home phone number because last Christmas, Clark invited me to his house for Christmas dinner since my parents and I were still fighting pretty harshly. He'd already gone home while I had to work, so he gave me the phone number in case I got lost and he didn't answer his cell.
She was devastated and asked me a million questions. It was very, VERY uncomfortable. She agreed to drive down that day and post bail for him. She lived a few hours away, so she said she'd be here at around 5 pm. The county we were in didn't allow online payments via credit card: cash only, so she had to physically drive down.
In the middle of the phone call, I missed a call from a number that wasn't in my contacts. I called back, and they answered immediately.
"Hi, I missed a call from this number?"
"Hi, is this Zander?"
"Yeah... who's this?"
"Zander, I'm Katie's mom. Your parents gave me your number."
Shit.
"Hi, can't talk now I'm in a rush and I--"
She cut me off. "Have you heard from Katie? She didn't come home last night. Your mom gave me your number. Please tell me she's with you."
"She's not," I said. "I'm not sure where she is. I have to go--I'll call you back."
I hung up the phone. I didn't want to talk to her about Katie. Because I was about to file her missing person report.
I walked over to the reception desk.
"I was just talking to an officer, and then he arrested my friend and walked off. I need to talk to the officer on my other case about identity fraud."
"What case number?" The lady asked.
A while later, I was sitting in one of their interrogation rooms after asking for a private meeting. Detective Hernandez sat at the opposite end of a metal table. My two case files were on the table in front of him. He was glancing through them, trying to familiarize himself with the break in report. A tape recorder sat between us. He pressed a button on the recorder and the tape started rolling.
He stated his name, my name, my case numbers, the date, and the time.
"Alright, go ahead," he said.
"So, I submitted a report for identity theft a while ago and haven't heard anything about it."
"The FTC can take some time to respond," he replied.
"Well, now there's a new report for a break in at my apartment. I was talking to another officer earlier and told him that I have a suspect for both crimes."
"Yes," the detective said, looking over one of the folders. He had both cases on the table.. "One David King, correct? Looks like it was written in your file."
"Yes, David King. He used to be a friend of mine, but now he hates me and has been targeting me."
"Targeting you how?"
"Most recently, he's kidnapped my girlfriend, Katie."
That caught his attention. He pulled a pen from his front pocket.
"When was this?" He asked, setting his pen on a blank page.
"Last night. When we went to go graffiti his house. He chased after us and pinned me to a table. He called someone on the phone and had them put Katie on the phone. I heard her voice and he claimed he'd kidnapped her to motivate me."
"Motivate you to do what?" Hernandez asked.
I told him about the dare conversation. Then about all the junk mail. My online accounts. The credit card fraud. My parent's credit being targeted. My car's windows. The break in. My bank account being emptied. The graffiti incident. Katie's phone call. Protecting Clark's bank and online accounts. And now Clark's arrest. Hernandez took copious notes.
"It just keeps escalating," I said in defeat. I watched Hernandez carefully, trying to gauge his reaction. I couldn't tell what he believed.
"I need more details about the phone call," he said at last. "What did she say? What did you say? What did you hear on the other end?"
We talked through everything for an hour. Nothing I said was useful for finding Katie, but Hernandez sat back after I finished.
"Zander, I have to be honest. This all sounds very... loose. I don't mean the crimes themselves, I mean the connections linking David to all of these crimes. There's nothing that can be done about the identity theft until the FTC has finished their investigation. The break in, broken windows, hacked accounts, and emptied bank account will have to produce their own evidence to prove that David committed each one.
"To you, this is all one timeline of events, but to the law, they are separate crimes that have to be treated with no regard for past actions," he said. His tone was reasonable and concerned.
"I believe you, but I can't make an arrest without witnesses or hard evidence. Your story is circumstantial at best. But I do believe you when you say they are connected."
Finally. Someone believes me.
"What have the techs said about the break in?" I asked. "They said they found a few fingerprints?"
"All the fingerprints found belonged to each of you and a few other people who used to live there. According to the file, they've all been confirmed as past residents."
"And what about the ATM camera?"
"Now that's something unfortunate," he said, looking through the folder again. "We got a call from your bank to file a fraud report. It was smart of you to go through the bank to report the fraud. My boss made it a priority and, since it was your same name, it was added to our file on your identity theft. I've been the one personally working on your identity theft case. Once I received the case, I called the convenience store that the ATM was in. They gave me the brand of the ATM so I could request the footage from the company. Problem is, that ATM doesn't have a camera."
"...What? How can an ATM not have a camera?"
"Not all brands do. Some ATMs don't have cameras built in, and this was one of them. Someone logged into your online bank account right before the ATM transaction and moved all of your money from savings into your checking account. They also increased your ATM withdrawal limit to $5,000 while online, which was above the $3,500 you had in your account. Normally, you can only withdraw $500 per day."
"What about the store's cameras?!" I practically shouted.
"I asked for them to bring the footage down. They said they'll be in today," he said.
"Where's this store," I asked. "I want to see this for myself."
"No," he said firmly. "I may have inclination to lean towards your theory, but I will collect the evidence myself and a court will decide. You steer clear.
"Then drive down yourself right now, God damn it!" I yelled. He stood slightly, his hand reaching for his belt automatically.
"Calm down," he said, looking me in the eyes.
"I have no money!" I shouted. "My car windows are smashed and I can't repair them! My rent will be due and I'll have no way to pay! I can't get to work in a car I can't drive! I need my money back!"
Hernandez sighed, sitting back down. I breathed heavily.
"If David is the one who used your information to commit credit card fraud, why would he steal a measly $3,500 from you?" He asked.
"Because he's dead set on ruining my life," I muttered. "That's the dare. He's taken it too far. Further than any sane person would. He's sick. I just want it to stop," I said. I cried a little, and Hernandez let me sit in silence for a minute with tears rolling down my cheeks.
"What about Katie?" I asked after a while.
"The kidnapping is going to get top priority. That's the one case that has a witness--you. I won't be working on it, but someone in a different section of the department will be. The other detective will want to interview you today and get started."
"Let's do it then," I said, wiping my eyes.
Hernandez stepped out and returned a while later with the detective. Detective White came in and probed me with hundreds of questions. Where did she work? Who were her friends? How long had we been together? When did I last see her? Do her parents know? Questions like that.
When I brought up David and the phone call, he leaned in and asked me the same questions about what I'd heard, what we'd said, and anything I could remember. Again, I didn't remember anything helpful.
"I'll need to bring David in for questioning," Detective White said. "Your testimony is decent, but we'll need more evidence for conviction. I can't arrest him because I need more proof. If we arrest him without enough proof, he'll walk free and can't be tried again."
"You had enough proof to arrest Clark!" I shouted.
"Clark?" Detective White asked.
"I was just talking with an officer who said David called in and told you all that Clark graffitied his house. All he had to do was call, and he got arrested!"
Detective White excused himself to go find out more about what had happened. He came back five minutes later.
"David has more proof on that case," Detective said. "Photographs of the graffiti, photographs of Clark coming up to the house, his own testimony about recognizing Clark, and a bruised face. Clark's hand is also cut up, which corroborates his story. We noticed it when we booked him. This is the kind of evidence we need to convict in a kidnapping. Right now we have your testimony stating you said 'hello' to Katie on the phone and that David said he'd kidnapped her. We need more evidence to convince a jury."
"But I was with Clark!" I yelled.
"In the pictures you weren't," he said.
"Then they're fakes!"
"An expert will check them and determine that."
I sat back in my chair, feeling defeated. Detective White thanked me for my testimony and left to contact Katie's parents.
Detective Hernandez sat back down, watching me as tears welled up in my eyes again.
"Let me pay for your windows," he said.
"It won't matter, he'll break them again the next day," I said angrily.
"He's broken them more than once?"
"Every time I repair them, they're smashed again the next day."
"I might have an idea," he said. "But I'll need approval from my boss."
If you haven't heard of entrapment in the context of a police investigation, it's a legal defense that's used when evidence can be shown that an officer induces a criminal to commit a crime they wouldn't otherwise commit. When this defense is used, there are two differing views. In some courts, if a defendant uses entrapment as a defense, the prosecution has to prove "beyond a reasonable doubt" that the criminal was not entrapped. In other courts, the defense has to prove that it was entrapped. The state I was in required the prosecution to do the proving.
Hernandez recognized that his plan could be construed as entrapment, and he explained this to me as we walked to his bosses office. He told me that since David had already established a pattern of breaking my windows, Hernandez could set up surveillance on the car and just wait for David to commit the crime he was going to do anyway. Since I had repaired my windows twice, and had kept the receipts, that would serve as good evidence that the crime had been repetitive.
The idea made me hopeful. I sat outside his boss's office while he walked in and presented his idea.
When he walked out, he gave me a thumbs up. David would never know what hit him.
Hernandez drove me to my house where I picked up my car and took it to a repair shop. He followed me over there and paid. We drove to my work in Hernandez's car while they worked on it.
Hernandez ordered us some lunch and I talked to my boss. I told him about my bank account getting hacked and that I needed to cancel direct deposit. Luckily, payroll was next week so they'd be able to change the method of payment by the next paycheck.
I told him about my situation and Hernandez backed me up. He agreed to pay some of my wages in advance out of the store's petty cash until payday came, and I was to pay him back. I thanked him profusely for helping me out and apologized for having to call in sick that day.
I walked out with a full stomach, $335, and a calm mind. With any luck, we'd catch David tonight.
Hernandez took me back to the shop, and I picked up my car. I tried to pay from the money I'd received, but he refused, saying I could pay him back after this was all resolved. He told me he'd be at my house later on to start the surveillance and to just park my car on the street. I thanked him again before we parted.
It was about 3 pm when I got home. I parked my car several blocks away and next to several others for camouflage. I didn't want David to find it and smash the windows before tonight. The walk was hot, and cool air conditioning welcomed me into my house.
"Excuse me?" Someone asked timidly as I unlocked my front door. I peeked my head back outside. There was an older woman on the landing, probably in her 40's.
"Yes?" I replied.
"You live in that apartment, I'm guessing?" She said.
"Yeah."
"I'm Mrs. Watson. I believe you and my son are roommates."
"Oh. Oh! Hello," I said, extending my hand. "Who's mom are you?"
"Isaac," she replied. "He and I were supposed to be driving out of state to visit family yesterday, but he never showed up."
A chill ran up my spine.
"I've called him a thousand times, but he hasn't answered," she continued. I've been standing here ringing the doorbell for a while, but no one has been home. Can I go knock on his door?"
I considered asking her to leave or telling her that I wasn't comfortable with her coming in, but I knew that would have been suspicious. I knew what we were going to find.
I told her to come in, and instantly the smell overtook us. She tried to be polite and not offend me, probably thinking we were typical college guys living like pigs. She walked down the hall to Isaac's room.
"Oh God," she muttered. The smell must have been horrific right by the door. I shuddered, but went down the hall towards her.
She knocked. "Isaac?" She called. No answer, as I expected.
"Isaac, it's mom," she said. I think the smell made her start to panic because she pounded harder on the door.
"Isaac, open up please," she pleaded desperately. I sighed.
Gently, I guided her away from the door and braced myself. I took a running start and slammed into the door. It bent heavily, but the latch didn't break. I tried again. And again. On the fourth try, the door wrenched open and I was inside. The smell, oh God. I don't know how many times I can tell you about it until you understand.
This was one of those moments where I'll remember every detail forever.
Isaac's room was a mess. There were three bookshelves that likely used to have tons of books, but the shelves were torn apart and books scattered across the room. His computer desk had papers scattered across it and cups knocked over. The window was darkened by a blackout curtain used for gaming. The large gaming computer under the desk hummed and the monitor showed stars moving around for a screensaver.
Isaac was on the bed. His face was pale and patchy with purple lines. His arms and legs were white and also bruised. An extension cord trailed off the bed, the middle being wrapped around his neck several times. Some flies nested on his body, flying to another spot occasionally.
Mrs. Watson entered the room and screamed. I just stood there, staring at Isaac's dilapidated body.
David had jumped to murder.
I called the police and tried to get Mrs. Watson to leave the apartment and preserve the crime scene. She refused and sat sobbing next to Isaac's bed. She was afraid to touch him.
The police came immediately and escorted Mrs. Watson and I out of the apartment. The next few hours were a blur of questions and police. Detective Hernandez showed up and looked inside. Techs were carrying in cameras and briefcases full of equipment.
After a while, they started to carry out some of Isaac's belongings in bags. His gaming computer took two techs to carry out. I sat on the curb nearby, not being allowed to leave by the head officer who was running the scene.
Hernandez sat next to me.
"They broke open your other roommate's door. All his belongings are there, but your roommate isn't. Do you know where he is?"
"No," I replied. "I never talked to him much."
"Were you close to Isaac?" He asked.
"No, but it's still..."
"I know," he said.
"Do you think David is behind this too?" He asked.
"Probably," I replied, feeling numb.
"We'll still carry out the surveillance," he assured me. "Don't worry. They'll analyze Isaac's body and if they find so much as a fleck of skin that we can link to David, we'll nail him. No criminal is perfect."
Hernandez left me alone and I thought over the situation.
Then a car parked nearby. And out stepped Clark with his mom. I jumped up and ran over to him.
"Oh my God, Clark, are you okay?" I asked.
"I'm fine," he smiled reassuringly. "Posted bail. It was 350 bucks, so not awful."
"I thought you said you'd be here by 5?" I asked Clark's mom. Side note, I don't remember the exact time she got there, but I do remember she was earlier than expected. I was going to meet them both at the station.
"I may have broken a few speed limits," she said in a neutral tone.
"What's happened?" Clark's face suddenly went cold when he saw all the policemen near our door.
"Isaac was found..." I said. "...in his room." I didn't have to specify what state he was in.
"Jesus CHRIST," Clark gasped, putting his hands on his knees. He started hyperventilating, and his mom worriedly put a hand on his back.
"Clark, honey, let's just go for a drive. We can get your stuff later."
"Your stuff?" I asked.
"He's moving out," his mom said sharply. "He told me all about this sick game your friend is playing. I don't think it's very funny."
"It's NOT funny!" I shouted. "It never was! This fucking asshole is trying to ruin my life! IT'S. NOT. A. GAME."
A few of the policemen turned to watch me from the balcony. Her jaw tightened and she guided her hyperventilating son into the car. They drove away, and I was left in the middle of the street, watching my best friend leave me to handle David alone.
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