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July 18, 2006

 
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Chapter Five


Before I go any further, I feel the need to say a few things here by way of explanation...


Jackie and I had no kids. Not together, not from previous relationships. Her sister was her only living relative and they weren’t particularly close. She had few friends. All-in-all she wasn’t very well liked. I’m not rationalizing here, it’s just the way things were. She wouldn’t really be missed all that much.

And, despite various business ventures and my Sure-Jack Productions deal with Pat, I was pretty much broke. Losing money with Sure-Jack was a welcome tax write-off for Pat, but it had meant living near poverty level for me. The $150 in cash that I lifted from Jackie’s wallet was twice the balance of my checking account. Sad, I know, but true.

Sure, I felt bad for her. Who wouldn’t? But I couldn’t see how confessing and going to jail was going to do me any good either. Odds are, I’d never come out alive, and if I did, I’d be a broken man. So, by the two-wrongs-don’t-make-a-right rationale, I decided to get rid of her body. No body, no murder. End of story.

When I got back to the house, I carried Jackie into the bathroom, took off her clothes and carefully laid her in the tub with her head near the drain and her feet propped up. A quarter turn of the hot water tap produced a slow, steady stream of water. I went to the kitchen, put on a fresh set of gloves, started a pot of coffee and grabbed my Chef’s knife. It was already going on 9 o’clock.

Once back in the bathroom, I took a deep breath, closed my eyes and made a slow, sure stroke across Jackie’s throat with the knife, being careful to keep the cut side away from my body in case any blood squirted out. I was surprised at how easily it sliced the flesh. All my knives had stayed much sharper since I started storing them on that magnetic strip I had installed on the wall near the stove.

Thirty bucks at Crate & Barrel sounded like a lot when I bought it, but it seemed like a pretty wise investment under the present circumstances.

Again, to my surprise, the blood didn’t squirt, but oozed towards the drain, mixing with the water. Before long I realized that hot water wasn’t such a good idea. The odor of the draining blood was intensified by the steam that began to rise from the tub after several minutes and I choked and gagged as I hovered over Jackie, struggling to turn off the hot tap and replace the stream with cold water. But once that was done, it was just a matter of waiting.

While Jackie drained, I poured a cup of coffee and headed to the garage for tools.

I found a pair of large bolt cutters, some channel locks, two or three types of hand saws and an old food dehydrator that I had bought at a garage sale just two weeks prior for 2 bucks. The Chef’s knife and a boning knife that I rarely used would round out the implements I’d need to finish the job. By the time I got back inside, she was pretty much dry and I spent a few minutes trying to figure out the best way to cut her up before diving in.

Jackie was in pretty good shape for her age...about five-five, one-thirty-or-so. And a lot leaner than two years ago, thanks to all of that liposuction I paid for. It really didn’t seem like it would be all that much work once I got started.

I stripped naked to keep from getting blood on any of my clothes, straddled Jackie’s body and began cutting strips of flesh away from the bone. When joints were exposed, I sawed carefully through them and slowly began assembling two piles of remains on either side of the tub...one, a stack of naked, grisly bones and the other, a limp, wet heap of flesh.

It was sweaty work and it took much longer than I thought it would, but by mid-afternoon I pretty much had the arms, legs and head removed and, along with the torso, stripped of flesh. I carefully cut into the stomach, trying not to puncture any of the internal organs, but a nick of the colon produced horrific odors to the point I thought I would have to stop. After wiping the sweat from my eyes, I steeled myself and went back to work, eventually getting used to the stench. It occurred to me that I hadn’t had to be so careful anyway, since I was planning on chopping the organs into pieces that were small enough to flush down the toilet.

It took another hour or so, but eventually liver, lungs, heart, kidneys, etc. had all been cut into flushable chunks.

An hour after that and they had all been sent straight to the Detroit River.

I checked the time. It was half-past five and I was ready for a drink.




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