Chapter Eleven:
Twenty one....I was twenty one years old and I had killed someone. Death had been present, and as much excitement or adrenaline that ran through me that night, the next day I was....scared.
Is this who I was now? A Killer? A murder?
I laid in bed that morning, looking up at my ceiling, just thinking of what I had done before the thought came into my head about the morning News.
It was seven am, I had no work due to it being a Sunday, but the it happened...my phone rang. It was Detective Calloway.
"Hey Arty..." Oh how I hated that name..." We need you to come in, we have a scene at Pier 36. Anderson" ( The other photograph) " Is unable to make it in time."
I took a moment...I breathed.
"Sure, I'll be there as soon as."
And hung up to get ready.
The first thing I done was rush to my television and check the local news channel; and there it was: The Headline of a murder at the pier.
It was clear the body was to be found by workers, I had just left her there, stuck in the pose I set up for her. I shouldn't of been shocked.
The headline shared 'Woman found dead at New York Pier' but nothing more than that. A random murder of a prostitute. They took it as serious as they could but, it wasn't like they were going on a man-hunt because of a dead celebrity, or anyone of importance.
Upon the screen came Detective Calloway, a female with dark hair, in her 40s and divorced. She had no children, and her husband had left her. I didn't know why, I never asked, but I heard a rumour that it was because of starting a family and an affair. She never had time for her husband so, they parted.
She shared what they found:
Reporter:'A young woman, believed to be a prostitute, named Karen Masters. "
I trailed off as my phone rang once more, missing out a very important detail as I brought it to my ear. "Hello?"
Reporter: 'A mother..."
It was Calloway again, reminding me to bring my equipment and to get here, fast. They didn't want any delays. So I gathered my things and made haste to the crime scene I was at, last night.
Chapter twelve:
I arrived in a good amount of time as I presented my I.D to a cop who let me on through, parking up, I found Calloway, who filled me in with what I needed to know before going on to the crime scene.
The body was there, how I left her, with the evidence tags all over. I looked around to see what they found but, nothing out the ordinary that would connect her to me. No weapon, since her head was hit on by the wall, no marks on me from her finger nails. She just had ripped clothes from their altercation.
It was odd, looking at her like this, but I lined up the same camera I used last night and began to take my shots. Only this time, I went for different angles: I was paranoid by things like that.
It didn't take me long, twenty minutes or so, to get what was required of me, but I returned to Calloway to let her know I was finished.
Calloway: "Perfect, I want those photos on my desk as soon as possible."
Arthur: "Yes, Ma'am."
I replied, and went on to my car to enter. I took one final look as the coroners came over to finally take the body and move it. Even though she was stuck how I placed her.
'Rigor mortis is a beautiful thing. Make someone your permanent model for all to see. ' That was what I thought, but did no one else see the beauty? Actually, no...they treated it like a damn crime scene. Why was no one awing at my brilliance? Even the news earlier were treating it like another murder...No...this was art....This was My Masterpiece. And they treated it like a crime scene? Why was there no press of photographers able to see my work. Why...was...it....hidden!
Chapter Thirteen:
Returning to the police station, I used the forensic lab to take care of my photos. things back here in 1999 were still pretty basic with their technology and the early forms of digital cameras were too expensive to buy when camera rolls and standard cameras done the job anyway.
I was still agitated about the crime scene, angered that no one was going to see this.But what was I to do? Show everyone. I rolled my eyes as I sat in silence and waited in the red room for the photos to process. Though.....Could I show everyone?
I shook that thought out my head, no, I couldn't but, I killed this woman for people to see, yes I done it for me but, I want people to appreciate my work and understand why I murdered her...
The thought dwelled on my mind, even as I went to Calloway's office to place the photos down in an envelope. And just like that, and idea sparked in my head. Who would ever know I gave them the photos if delievered to them.
I left the station and returned home, just thinking this over and over and over again. All I had to do was make a copy of my best photo, out of all the ones I took, just one photo that was perfect and let them see.
I went to my photo album, where Moira and Karen were, my special two in their best angles.
All I had to do was make a copy and post it.
All I had to do, was show the world I was Creating Perfection.
