Mystery of The White Rose Serial Killer

by Zalman S. Davis

  05 August, 18:00 p.m.

  “Brackenfell Police, Constable Van Niekerk,” a woman had answered at the police station.

  “H-hi, my name is George Knox, 111 Alexis Drive. I have arrived at home and found my wife hanging from the ceiling in the basement. I cut her loose and tried CPR. She is dead!” George hysterically said to the constable.

  “Sir, I’m sending a vehicle to your address. Please wait for them,” she said and dropped the call.

  George goes back to the basement and takes Anna’s phone. He sits next to her lifeless body with a lump in his throat. He goes through the apps on her phone for any leads. Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, WhatsApp. No messages, no music, no pictures or anything else on her Samsung S6 smart phone. No contact list either. That’s not Anna. It must’ve been erased, he thinks. George chucks the phone to the side and goes back to the lounge.

  He strolls through the lounge, walking up and down, looking at their photos on the wall - happy times. Instantly, he remembers Anna’s laptop in the study. He hurries up the stairs into the study. He walks behind the desk, turns her laptop on. After a few minutes George clicks on Google chrome and opens Facebook. Anna was still logged in. He looks through her friends list – 94 friends - and also the activity on her wall - nothing out of the ordinary. No one he knows. He sighs. Anna’s profile is created under an alias, George discovers. It’s Carmen Sealy. Why on earth won’t she use her real name? he wonders.

  He stands up from behind the laptop and stares out the window looking onto Table Mountain in the distance. I need answers, he screams with his fingers entangled in his hair. Why the fake name? Red flags are being raised. Everything is so utterly confusing. George is plucking the strings to his brain trying to puzzle A and B together. Frustration automatically takes over his body. The thought crosses his mind that his wife catfishes on the sideline. This was making George feeling truly pathetic. What was she hiding? We have been married for two long years. Are there secrets? he thought to himself.

  George backs up to the laptop, taking a seat on the leather office chair. He searches even further – messages; one message from Barry Inns. Who? he thought by himself. It must be a fake name too. George stares at the message reading: Have you got it? Is the job done? What the heck? What is done? What job? Followed by the signs of happy emotions Anna had sent to this so-called Barry, George knew that the job – whatever it may have been – was done. Someone must have been watching Anna’s activity. Her daily do’s. That is the only explanation for all her personal stuff to have been erased, he pondered by himself staring at the white rhino ceiling. His heart wants to shut down. He closes the tab on Google and turns the laptop off. While doing so, the doorbell suddenly rings. It must be the bloody cops. It must be them; George started to think and became fidgety.

  Chapter 3

  SAPD

  05 August, 18:25 p.m.

  “Mr. Knox, South African Police Services,” a police officer called out to George.

  “I’m on my way, officer,” he replies while walking down the stairs to the front door.

  It felt like Anna was still here – her presence, however, the house was quiet. Anna is really dead. This reality is driving George insane. Her death made him feel excruciatingly agonizing. The realization that she is gone dawned upon him. He could definitely feel the beautiful blonde haired Anna’s presence.

  George opens the front door.

  “Hello, officer, this way,” he says while trying to keep his tears in place. He leads the officer down to the basement and together they enter.

  “Sir, you need to get back please,” the officer ordered George. Immediately he calls more officers to assist him as well as paramedics.

  A detective dressed in a white shirt and a pair of black trousers arrived at the scene with three other people dressed in white overalls and paramedics. George started screaming at them out of disbelieve that Anna is dead. The reality is striking again.

  Anna! Anna! No! he shouts out in despair.

  “Calm down, sir. Please,” a friendly paramedic woman said while patting him on the shoulder.

  “I know that you are going through a lot, sir, but you really do need to calm down. I’m terribly sorry for your loss.”

  “Sir, have you been using your wife’s computer? Our cyber division has noticed that there was recent activity on your wife’s computer,” the detective said.

  “Yes, detective, I was on her laptop trying to figure out if she had made contact with anyone recently that would’ve had something against my wife,” George instantly informs him with a hiccup stuck in his throat.

  “This is going to be a very difficult case to crack, sir. We’ve been keeping eyes on your wife as well as her recent web activities. I’m not allowed to give you the following information, but I understand you are just looking for answers. I trust that you will keep this information very confidential. Your wife, Anna, or A.K.A Carmen, was part of the South African Hawks. She was working on a very discreet case of a criminal accused of murdering 25 people in the apartheid era of 1994. The accused escaped from police custody a few years ago and is now working under an alias. Anna befriended him working as a high class drug dealer. By the way, I’m Detective Williams,” he exhaustingly explains and introduces himself.

  A few seconds of silence fills the air.

  “What? What on earth is happening? Everything feels like one hectic dream. The woman I married was a Hawks agent? I never even knew South Africa had a Hawks division! Why couldn’t you do anything from preventing this? You could’ve tracked him down seeing that your cyber division was monitoring my wife’s web activities,” George says nearly screaming.

  “We couldn’t just zoom in and locate him, sir. We were waiting for valuable information which your wife was getting out of him. He is also very clever. He would’ve made sure we couldn’t pin point his exact location using his IP-address,” Detective Williams briefly explains before continuing.

  “Did you notice anything odd when you went through your wife’s social media accounts and other personal belongings?”

  George hesitates for a moment and without thinking he says no.

  “I did not see anything out of place. Just that she had a different name on Facebook,” he says lying.

  “Okay. We will have to take all of these things into consideration especially the fact that she was a Hawks agent talking to this criminal wanted by the Hawks and the South African Swat team. It could be that there was a leak into the investigation and the accused, Barry Inns, found out.”

  Barry Inns? What the… I can’t believe this. If he is so wanted, why did he ask Anna if the job had been done? George thinks to himself.

  “We will have to ask you a few questions to find a few things out. Mrs. Knox or rather Anna, never gave us or the Hawks any accurate information to who she might be for the sole purpose that if something should go wrong in the database, that information cannot be made available to anyone,” Detective Williams says.

  What if he comes after George? Will he ever be caught?

  Chapter 4

  The Walk Through

  According to autopsy reports, the bruising on Anna’s body was made with a blunt object – something made from steel. The back of her skull was crushed with a rock or something similar. The so-called rock pieces were found lodged inside her skull.

  Question after question, George had to answer Detective Williams. It was extremely difficult, terrifying but somewhat good to help assist them.

  “Mr. Knox, would you kindly take me through of how you and your wife’s day was planned and what you two were talking about before you had left the house for work?” Sally Adams, the psychiatrist, asked looking him stiffly in the eyes.

  He looks at her and feels his heart beating even faster as he walks her through the house and what they were doing on the day of Anna’s murder.

  “We had both woken up at approximately six o’ clock. I got out of bed and went straight to the shower. Anna was still in bed. By the
time I had gotten out of the shower and to the bedroom, Anna had woken up. I could smell the Nescafe coffee brewing in the kitchen. Anna had informed me that later the day she has palate classes and on her way back home she is going to stop at the local supermarket. We also spoke about having a baby. Anna was determined to start a family; however, I was not yet ready. I just wanted to see her happy so I agreed that it is time to start a family,” George told mumbling the words out.

  “Carry on,” Sally insisted.

  “We kissed, drank our coffee together and had a quick breakfast consisting of eggs, French toast and bacon. After that I went to get ready for work and left the house at around seven.”

  “Did she seem to be unhappy or did it seem as if something could’ve been bothering her?”

  George stared at the ceiling trying to think if something was off. They walked from the lounge to the kitchen. He pulled out a bar stool and sat down before continuing.

  “She was happy. We were happy. Nothing was bothering her… us,” he said as a tear flowed down his cheek.

  05 August, 21:00 p.m.

  George went to lie down on his bed - propped pillows behind his neck reaching for the photo of Anna on the side cabinet. After staring at it for a long time, he laid wondering of what could’ve happened. We all have an idea of what happened but no one is certain, he thought.

  He heads down to the study, making his way behind the desk and turns the laptop on. He takes a seat in the office chair and without hesitation he logs onto Anna’s Facebook in search of any new possible leads.

  Headlines are all over Facebook reading: Anna Knox brutally killed, staged as suicide

  For a split second he knew that people would start pointing fingers at him for Anna’s death. Suddenly it felt as if the world had stopped revolving for a moment. His heart was on fire and his stomach trembling of fear.

  George stares at the headlines and decides to click on the one link leading to the local newspaper – The Brack Times’ – website. Upon opening the link, his stomach suddenly dropped to the floor. Everything seems to be like a movie or a play in a theatre. He doesn’t want this to be reality.

  Does Knox’s husband have anything to do with her gruesome death? were the following words written as subtitle.

  George stares at the eleven bold words. He can’t believe that they think he has something to do with Anna’s death. I’ve been dragged into the media’s spotlight, he groaned to himself. They will not leave me alone until they have gotten their story.

  He couldn’t read any further of the article of how Anna was murdered. It is too painful. Especially the part where he gets mentioned and thought of as involved in the murder.

  His phone starts ringing. George picks it up and sees the name, Max Cooper, appear on the screen. Max is his best friend since high school.

  “Hey, Max, what’s with the call this time of the night?” he asks annoyed.

  Max’s voice is loud as if he is shouting. He is talking very fast.

  “Max, Max, slow down. What is wrong?” George asks out of concern.

  “It’s Claire. Sh-she is missing, George. M-m-missing,” he said panting very loud.

  George can barely breathe. What is happening? How can my best friend’s girlfriend be missing? It surely must be a big misunderstanding, he thought to himself with a frown upon his face.

  “What do you mean she is missing? Isn’t she just out with family or friends?”

  There is a pause of silence.

  “I just got back from New York City, George. I called her when I landed and asked her to come get me at the airport, but she never showed. I then hauled a taxi home and when I got here I found this disturbing red note with a white rose placed on top of it. Please come over,” he said sobbing.

  Being oblivious to such a thing, George hurries to the bedroom for shoes and hurries out the door forgetting to lock. He gets in the car, finds the keys still in the ignition, and speeds off to Max’s house.

  He stops outside on the lawn and runs up onto the porch, starting to bang on Max’s front door.

  “Max! Max! Open up, it’s me,” George called out loud.

  After a few seconds, Max approaches the door walking rather fast. He opens the door and welcomes George hurryingly in. Looking very anxiously, he leads him to the lounge and shows the red note and white rose resting on the coffee table.

  Gently George picks the note up from under the rose and opens it. The following read in gold, bold letters:

  The darkness is an element of weakness, a white rose: a symbol of death. Where might Claire be? One, two, three… Come and see!

  George looks Max in the eyes unsure of what to tell him and passes the note to him.

  The words kept echoing through his head. What if this too is connected to Anna? he thought. His mind kept repeating the words over and over: What if?

  Chapter 5

  The Acquisition

  Afew rain clouds gathered together in the splintering bright sky fronting the scorching African sun, leaving a gentle breeze hanging in the air. The wind rippled the feathered leaves of the palmetto palms, piercing the luscious red bougainvillea vines, leaving a thick mat of red leaves lying on the cobblestone path leading toward the wooden door of George’s house.

  In the distance the zooming noise of a motorbike became clearer at it approached. George watches as the man driving, stops in front of the house. In a hurry the man switches the ignition off, removes his helmet and approaches George walking very fast. It’s Max. His eyes are blood shot red and he is furious. His hair is in disarray – clearly visible he has not slept in a while.

  “Hey, Max,” George softly greets him knowing that he too is in a lot of pain.

  Max doesn’t answer. While approaching George he reaches for something behind his back. He pulls out a gun.

  “You are the killer. I know it! Where is Claire? I’ve seen the papers. I’ve read it all,” he shouts out aloud waiving the gun at George.

  George raises his eyebrow, slowly lifting his hands in the air. Confused about the sudden behaviour change, he slowly moves out backwards towards the front door.

  Max has seen the papers and really believes that I’m the killer. My best friend, George thinks.

  “What are you talking about, Max? There is an explanation for all of this. Let’s sit and let me explain,” he says with his hands still raised. “You have to listen to me, Max.”

  “Where is Claire? You first killed your wife and now my girlfriend is missing, perhaps dead. I want to know where she is or I blow your brains out! I promise you I will. I want answers!” Max shouts out even louder still waiving the gun in George’s face.

  George stood there with silence upon his lips, not sure what to say.

  “You need to believe me. I have nothing to do with this. When I came home I found Anna hanging from the roof beam in the basement. I then cut her loose and saw that her skull had been crushed in and bruises were on her stomach leading all the way to her sides. And then I found something on her laptop when I was searching for answers on what may have happened,” he says in a fast paced voice hoping that Max will believe him.

  “Come with me to the study,” George continues and shows him the door.

  An earthquake occurred inside his brain out of confusion, cracking the entire surface leading pains to George’s chest.

  “Show me!” Max demands in a now deep, fearful voice.

  They walk up the stairs to the study and George turns the laptop on and immediately logs onto Facebook.

  “Come look,” he calls. “This is Anna’s Facebookaccount but just look at the account name. It’s fake.”

  George clicks on the messages tab and opens the message from so-called Barry Inn.

  “Look, here they were talking about some kind of job that must be done,” he says watching his reaction.

  Suddenly a new message pops up from Barry. George stares at the computer screen and follows the sentence with burning eyes:

  The darkness is an ele
ment of weakness, a white rose: a symbol of death. Where might Claire be? One, two three… Come and see!

  Max stares at the screen out of despair, confusion and fear visible on his face.

  “What is going on? Type him in a message that I will pay ransom money! I just want Claire back in my arms,” Max begs out of desperation.

  George looks at Max and starts to type:

  Barry, whoever you are, please let Claire go. We will pay you ransom money if you wish. Please just let Claire go unharmed. We beg of you!

  The laptop starts to freeze after George hits the enter-button on the keyboard. The message has been sent. The screen goes black. A message appears on the now black screen written in red bold letters:

  The darkness is an element of weakness, a white rose: a symbol of death. Where might Claire be? One, two, three… Come and see! Game Over!

  “Bloody hell!” George yells out. “He was taunting us. He wanted us to reply to his message. It was his bloody plan all along. The laptop crashed,” George says while hitting the desk with his fist. “A virus must have been loaded onto the computer software.”

  Max walks up and down in the room, goes and sits in the corner with his head rested in his hands.

  “We will now never know,” he softly says while sniffing away his tears.

  Chapter 6

  The Interrogations

  After being at home with Max trying to figure out as to what had happened to Anna and Claire, seven police cars arrived. Cops rushed in and brought George in to the police station. They think he has something to do with Anna’s death. Max went home terribly confused.

  “Mr. Knox, I’m constable Andrews. Do you know why we brought you in?” a young woman with black hair and pink blush cheeks asked George.

  He stares at her and raises an eyebrow. Their main suspicion now is me, he mumbled to himself.

  “Yes, constable, to ask me questions about what happened,” George murmured under his breath giving a smirk.