To Whom It May Concern (2004, 1937 words)

To Whom it may Concern,

I would have liked to have seen the look on Jeffrey Dahmer's face when he felt the broomstick against the back of his head & knew he was dead. Did he know it was coming? Did Gacy know before he was even arrested that he would be executed? Did Ted Kaczynski know he would be turned in by his own brother? Did the Zodiac killer stop killing out of repentence or fear for his own life?

I've been thinking about this a lot lately. It might sound like an unusual thing, but I've been an unusual person the last few years. I never considered myself to be in the same league as any of those guys, but then, I don't suppose anyone considers themselves to be evil. The mind is very skilled at lying to itself. Maybe it's self-preservation. Preserve the mind from guilt & remorse. I don't know.

I hope I still have your attention at this moment. Granted, if you're reading this at all, then you are probably the officer in charge of my case, so I know I've have your attention for quite some time. I left this letter in my apartment especially for you. I figured you'd find my place sooner or later. My last few "jobs" were a bit sloppy.

Hell, the time for euphemisms is over. I kill people. I know it. You know it. You found my place & now it's a matter of time before you find me. It can't be helped, & in the end, I probably deserve it.

This may not sound like the remorseless confession you may have been expecting. This may not sound like the words of the man you've been hunting all this time. The answer is simple. I am not the man I was 3 months ago.

You may be worried because no new bodies have been found. Until now, I have been nothing if not consistent in leaving you fresh corpses to sweat over. Rest assured, you have not found any new bodies because there are none to find. Not from me, at least. Miss Kurosawa in June was my last victim. May God rest her tortured soul.

Small words, you may be thinking. Maybe you think I'm hoping that this little letter will absolve me of all my sins, that you'll show me leniency. Believe me, Officer, I don't request or expect mercy. My pleas of forgiveness go to a Higher Court.

One thing I've been pouring over is when I started being a killer. Was it that surge of power & release when I first sliced open the neck of young Miss Watanabe? Was it before then, when I was angry with her, simply because she reminded me of my dead fiancee? Maybe I can go back even further, when I held the lifeless body of my sweet Saya. When that mugger panicked & shot her? I don't know. All I know is, after that moment, all I could think of was that others had to pay. I could not fathom why I had to be without my Saya while other men were allowed to be in love. Why only I should suffer.

I don't even recall the events that brought me to kill Miss Watanabe. It was as if I was walking down the street, blinked, & when my eyes were open again, a brutalized young woman was screaming for mercy as I stood over her with a knife. The next thing I knew, I had made her throat sing & was reaching in her wallet for her Driver's License.

Ah, & there you are. My MO. The stab wounds & the missing lisence. I'm not sure why I even took them. A trophy, I suppose. A reminder that I had actually killed a woman, no matter how much my mind tried to deny it. After that, I was like a child hopping off a roller coaster. The only question on my lips was "Can I do that again?"

It seemed to be. Every couple months, I stumbled across another. Another woman that mocked me & my lost love. One who mocked me simply by reminding me of her. I felt I could do it forever, that I would never be caught, because this was my destiny. That is probably why I got sloppy in the end.

In case you are wondering, you can find the driver's lisences tacked to my bedroom door. There is one other thing of note you may be interested to find in my room, but I'll get to that later.

As I said, I saw no end to what had quickly become the Alpha & Omega of my existence. So, what brought about this change in me? I'm sure you don't care. But, I will tell you anyway. Who knows, it just might give you an air-tight case to prove my insanity. If that's what you're looking for, that is. I'm sure you'd much rather have me hang.

It was a clear morning. June, 2 or 3 days after Miss Kurosawa. I was standing by the bus stop, waiting to catch a ride to work. I happened to casually glance up at a billboard. It was the usual crap, advising me that to be cool I had to smoke cigarettes with a camel in bars. I blinked, & when my eyes opened, the billboard had completely transformed. White block letters on black stated, plain as day, "09/05/96." Below it, in somewhat smaller type, the words "Saya is weeping."

In the 4 seconds it took me to read & reread the billboard, everything changed. The scales fell from my eyes. I saw the incredible wrong I had wrought, over & over. All the lives I'd destroyed. Not just the women. Their families, lovers, friends. Dozens, maybe hundreds of people put to suffering I know all too well.

I knew immediately I must repent. Repent, & atone. It was not enough to stop killing. That would not ease the pain of those I had harmed. I knew nothing would, but I also knew there was something I could do, something that would stop similar torture after I'm gone.

I assume that by now, you have noticed 2 flaws in my statement. Upon telling you the location of the lisences, you no doubt immediately bolted into my room, or sent another officer to do the same. Either way, the results would be the same, you did a quick count & realized something was wrong, terribly wrong. As many as 15 lisences are missing.

Here is the great irony of it all. The lisences are not missing. They were never in my room, or even in my building. I've been watching the news the last few months, to see if you had found any suspects yet. To my great horror, I heard that my body count was currently at 35 (2 more then Gacy, I may add). This did not sync up, in my mind. I only had 20 lisences on my door, as I'm sure you've noticed by now.

This is how I have spent the last few months, attempting to account for the 15 extra bodies. It was only yesterday that I finally pieced it all together.

It seems I was not the only killer to match my MO. I found a young man living in Oak Park who had been mimicking my own killings with astonishing accuracy. This also answers the 2nd flaw. I had previously stated that my last murder was Miss Kurosawa in June. But you have one more body after that, that of a Missus Akimoto. I found him early yesterday after witnessing the murder of a new woman, a Missus Suzuma, whom you have probably found by now. We both paused in fear, me of having found a maniac with a knife, him with having been caught. Just as quickly, as if psychically, we knew who each other were. He invited me to his house, & we traded notes. It seems he had been burying his lisences in his back yard, holding small funerals for them. And I thought I was sick.

It seems he's a bit of a copycat. He saw a story about my killings on the news & felt he should help me. He said he was a bit surprised when I had stopped without warning. So suprised, in fact, that he paused to see my next move. When I had done nothing for 3 months, he decided to jump-start me by taking another Asian woman's life. He also told me as he got up to pour us more coffee, with an unnerving calm, that just last week, he had seen my face in a dream. He said, with his back to me, that I had been standing over his body with a broken coffee pot in my hand. All this he said with the air of someone mentioning a news article he had read the other day. Then, he turned to face me, with a large carving knife in his hand.

I wish I could say I saw it coming, but I was caught unawares. He cut deeply into my arm while I grabbed wildly for a weapon of my own. I finally found a blunt object outside of my field of vision & brought it crashing down on his head. As I stood, agape & bleeding profusely, I hazarded a glance at my right hand. In it was a shattered porcelain coffee pot.

You may have guessed what else awaits you in my room. Behind a large bookshelf near the back of the room, is a second closet. Inside that closet, you will find the body of a Mister Charles Harrington. I don't know how forthcoming he will be, but you are free to use my apartment to interrogate him to your heart's content. After that, you can come find me.

Tomorrow will be September 5th, 1996. Maybe it already is the 5th as you read this. Regardless, my position has not changed. You will find me in the gazebo in the park on Fullerton, watching the fountain. I always loved fountains. After that, my fate is in your hands.


"Thank you for tuning in to Channel 7 News. Shocking news as the final chapter in a reign of terror among Chicago's Japanese-American community is brought to an end. Chicago Police Captain Donald Kowalski arrested a man identified as Albert Provenzale, a resident of Elmwood Park. Provenzale was believed to be responsible for the deaths of 36 women, including a Saya Suzuma, who was identified just yesterday. Sadly, Provenzale was never brought to justice, as a drunk driver collided with Inspector Kowalski's car. Both men died several hours later in Melrose Park's Gottlieb Memorial Hospital. A doctor present at the time of the death had this to say."

"I was standing there, checking Officer Kowalski's pulse, when suddenly Mr. Provenzale smiled. He glanced in Officer Kowaliski's direction & saId 'I told you.' I was about to advise Mr. Provenzale to lie still when they both unexpectedly flatlined. I'm afraid both men are beyond our help now."

"We were also told a 3rd man was in the car. It is unknown whether the unknown man was a fellow Police Officer, or if he was involved in the killings. The paramedics who picked up Officer Kowalski & Provenzale stated there were only 3 men at the scene when they arrived, including the intoxicated driver of the other vehicle. The 3rd man's whereabouts are currently unknown, but for now, the City of Chicago breathes a collective sigh of relief."