My Life with Death

Federal Bureau of Investigation, John Edgar Hoover's Building, Washington, D.C.

 I walked through the dark aisles full of metal shelves, in which there were hundreds of boxes with postponed cases that the FBI or other investigative agencies had never started to investigate. On the box, which I took down from the top shelf with the help of small steps, it said: The Doll Killer, case number: 60982/13, and the name of the investigator: FBI Special Agent Paul Wilcke - who retired five years ago, right after the case was dropped.

I even found two identical cases from 2013. So, they were serial murderers. However, the 2013 cases brought to light many more questions than answers, which was also the reason for postponing the case. The investigator at the time had practically nothing in his hands. Not even a cause of death, let alone a profile of the perpetrator. Perhaps just one suspect was excluded from the list of suspects after the second murder. Agent Wilck's final report was ritual murders with no apparent cause of death - ritual, due to discovering "voodoo" dolls and how the bodies were arranged.

I put the box on the floor between the shelves. I removed my shoes removed my jacket, put down my Glock 22, and sat before her. I took the recorder out of my bag. I was the first to pick up the autopsy report:

"The first victim is a man. Twenty-two years old, in good physical condition, 65 inches, 149 pounds, Caucasian. Born March 16, 1989, in Baltimore. Found in March 2013 at the Pemberton Landfill near Annapolis, Maryland. Body identified by serial number on a screw in right knee. He used to play football but had to stop due to a serious injury. His name was Jack Bencker, and he studied medicine at the University of Pennsylvania. The second victim is a boy with identical features, almost identical build, height, and weight, Caucasian, and same age. He was born on February 28, 1989, in Baltimore and retrieved in June 2013 by the rail line leading from D.C. to Richmond. His name was Cody McBenning. The tattoo identified him on his right forearm (dolphin). Student at Howard University in Washington D.C. - Department of Sociology. He swam competitively. The cause of death is unknown for both victims. The only other injury is the beheading of the head with a tool with a toothed blade at least 30 centimeters long between the 3rd and 4th cervical vertebra. Depending on the nature of the weapon, the suspect can be either a woman or a man. The wound was clogged with dirt and bitten by animals. The frayed skin at the site of the wound indicates that there was not one. A possible weapon could be a saw. The injury was done post-mortem. According to rigor mortis and liver temperature, the bodies were always found approximately 6 hours after death. The murders took place in the night between 1 and 3. No witnesses and no clues. Toxicology was clean. No foreign DNA, fingerprints, shoes, or tires."

10:58 p.m.

Out of the blue, Kent - the Deputy Director of the FBI - visited me in the dark and gloomy evidence storage room on one of the underground floors of the building. His steps carried through the empty corridor, and the echo amplified the size of the emptiness that each step created. I listened to the sound of those footsteps. Suddenly, there was complete silence again. He was standing behind me, looking at me. I felt it. I felt his curious, spying gaze on my body. I stopped the recorder recording.

"You'll be standing there staring for a long time...," I suggested. I got up, turned around, and happily pressed myself against him. "...or you'll finally give me a kiss," I finished, pouting like a teenager.

I wanted his kiss so much. He was incredibly sexy in a suit. Like James Bond. My armed bodyguard.

He stopped me. "You know the protocol, Agent. No sexual relations or gestures between FBI agents, especially in this building."

I knew he was joking. I knew him well, but I enjoyed playing this game with him. So I stepped away from him and looked disappointed but professional.

"Good evening, sir," I said thoughtfully, making amends for my unprofessional behavior.