Half a Dozen Lives

Testimony and Murder

I did not kill the man. I know you don't believe me after all that you have read about me in the newspapers. My defense lawyer also did not do a very convincing job at proving my innocence. Maybe he himself did not believe in me.

But I need to tell you before I am sentenced to death that I didn't kill Jerry.

It was a bright summer morning- the morning Jerry was murdered. It was a grotesque scene. His fingers eviscerated from the body by pliers, the nails of the fingers neatly done and arranged in a perfectly straight line on the floor. His face was untouched, perhaps for the whole world to see the contortions and the pain he was subjected to before he finally gave up, his stomach tore apart like a plastic bag of chips. His limbs scarred but attached to the body and the toes subjected to the same fate as the fingers.

Officer Klose had never seen something so preposterous in his entire tenure of fifteen years.

Who was Officer Klose?

Gottl Klose was the man who put me behind bars and ensured that I remained there. He was a police veteran and the head of investigation in the infamous psychopathic murder case. The first time he looked at the monstrous crime scene, his eyes just flinched a little. Fifteen years in the service had hardened the man's heart. He did the usual routine- fingerprints, evidence collection, background check, etc, etc. and the next I remember, I found him standing at my doorstep for my arrest.

I know I am getting ahead of myself. 

Let me just start from the beginning- from where it all started...