The Hands Of Time

Chapter 11: November 2, 2010

10:49am

Downtown Newark, NJ

Homicide Detective Sergeant Alonzo Durham sat inside of his cramped office at Police Headquarters on Green Street with the Casper case files spread haphazardly across his desk. He wasn't looking through any of them though; he was studying a fly that was drowning in a cup of old coffee from earlier that morning.

The irony of this wasn't lost on the 20-year police veteran. Here this fly thought that it was going to score something sweet, but ultimately that thought would wind up costing it its life.

As the fly submerged beneath the cold brown liquid one final time, Sergeant Durham leaned back in his chair and returned his eyes to the file that he'd been perusing before the fly caught his attention. His 6'6" 280 lb. muscular body made the chair groan in protest as he adjusted himself for maximum comfortability. He'd been on the Casper case since its outset and in all of his years of policing in this great city, he'd never encountered a more deranged psychopath than this killer.

In Newark, drug and gang-related shootings were the norm for the Homicide Department, so when Casper started his deadly reign of terror in February of 2005, the city's homicide detectives were at a total loss. Sergeant Durham threw himself headfirst into the case which had cost him his marriage, but as the body count began rising he became somewhat obsessed with catching the elusive killer. Now fifty-five victims and almost six years later, law enforcement was no closer to apprehending Casper than they were in 2005.

It always seemed as though they were a step or two behind Casper which had even the most persistent of cops (himself included) beyond frustrated at the case's progress. As with most homicide cases Sergeant Durham knew that all it took was some minor detail that would break it wide open, which was why he was going through every single case file and taking meticulous notes to make sure that nothing had been overlooked.

The file that was currently open before him was Belinda Harris's, the Essex County morgue worker whom Casper had murdered in her own backyard. It was one of the more gruesome crime scenes of the sergeant's recent memory and to all of the seasoned detectives under his command; it looked as though Casper had went completely H.A.M. (Hard As a Motherfucker) on the poor woman.

The crime scene photos told the horrific tale. In addition to Casper's usual disembowelment, the face of the woman's corpse had been completely removed. White skull and bone showed where it had once been as well as the pinkish red mixture of blood and mucus.

Staring at the photos, Sergeant Durham felt his pancake breakfast churn slowly in his stomach just as the bile had that day when he'd seen the body up close and in HD. As he was about to peruse another file, his telephone's intercom rang signaling that his secretary Sheila was calling in.

"Sergeant, there's a gentleman here to see you who says that he has information regarding the Casper case."

Releasing a heavy sigh, Sergeant Durham pressed a large red square button on the telephone to ask, "What's the guy's name Sheila?"

It seemed that every quack and certifiable nutjob in Newark had come to see him with a Casper tip every since the murderous son of a bitch had started killing people. If he had a $20 bill for every whacked out tip that led nowhere he could retire a billionaire. Sergeant Durham wanted to put a bullet in Casper's head for having to deal with this bullshit alone. The intercom rang again.

"He says that his name is Jason Harris sir."

At the mention of Belinda Harris's son, Sergeant Durham punched the telephone's red square button so hard that he cracked the telephone's base.

"Damnit!" Sergeant Durham exclaimed before replying, "Ok Sheila, send him in."

He remembered interviewing Jason after his mother's murder and initially thought that the young man was mildly retarded. To the sergeant it seemed as though Jason wasn't all the way there, like he was a robot in one of those Saturday afternoon movies that he used to like as a kid. Jason had exhibited no emotion over his mother's death and it was his lack thereof that had catapulted him to the top of the list of suspects.

After a thorough check of his background, Jason had been eliminated as a suspect though his peculiar behavior had stayed on the minds of all of the investigating detectives. Just as Sergeant Durham had finished putting away all of the Casper files, his office door opened.

"Good morning Sergeant Durham," Jace greeted as he poked his head inside. "Sorry for the interruption."

Standing up from his desk the sergeant replied, "No interruption at all Jason; come in come in."

Jace entered the office completely unsure as to how he would bring Candy up to the sergeant. He figured that straightforward was the best way to go. After the sergeant and he sat down, Jace said,

"There's something that I want to show you. It seemed a bit suspicious to me at the time which is why I decided to bring it here to you."

Curious as to what the young man had in his possession, Durham leaned forward and inquired,

"What is it son?"

Retrieving his cell phone from his right front pocket, Jace punched in his passcode and proceeded to flick through his photo gallery. Sergeant Durham watched him the way you would watch an angry pitbull that was intently staring at you. When he was finished, Jace handed the phone across the desktop to the sergeant.

"I was cleaning my girlfriend's apartment this morning and came across that in a hidden drawer in her bedroom."

Taking the cell phone, Sergeant Durham started perusing the highlighted photos of the scalpels and the playing cards. Jace continued,

"I remember reading about Casper's weapon of choice and the Jack Of Spades cards that were left at all of the crime scenes. My girlfriend's an Insurance Administrator Sergeant and there's no logical reason for her to have a set of scalpels that pristine and specific."

As Sergeant Durham carefully studied the six photos, he processed what the young man was saying to him and he had to admit that the boy had a valid point. The set of scalpels looked to be high end, like something one might see being used in a Medical Examiner's office or by a mortician. Whatever the case, it was the most solid lead they'd had in weeks and definitely worth checking out.

"Would you be able to e-mail these pictures to me Jason?" Sergeant Durham asked while looking up from the cell phone screen and passing the device back across the desk.

"Most definitely sir," Jace responded while taking the apparatus. "I would just need your e-mail address."

Scribbling the info on a business card, Sergeant Durham handed it to Jace who then proceeded to highlight and e-mail the pics to the sergeant. Booting up his desktop computer, Sergeant Durham logged into his Newark Police e-mail and pulled up the photos. As he pressed the appropriate buttons to print them, the sergeant looked at Jace and said,

"Thanks a lot Jason. We're surely going to check this out. Where does your girlfriend live?"

20 minutes later

Jace walked down Broad Street past Newark City Hall and the smile that was on his face was abundant. He'd set in motion the events which would hopefully end Casper's reign of terror once and for all. After turning off and reaching the Bronco that he'd parked on Clinton Street, Jace sat inside and set the watch to return. He had to admit, he was very anxious to see what repercussions his actions would have in the future....