The Whitechapel Case
Fox-Trot-9

PG-13
Horror/Suspense/Mystery (How-Catch-'Em)
Disclaimer: I don't own Ghost Hunt or Death Note. 

Part 2: The Connections
Chapter 11

Day 2—Martin got up and leaned on the sofa's arm, then inhaled and exhaled and said, "Noll, I was hoping it wouldn't have to come to this; in fact, I was hoping your mother and I would take the horror of our encounter to our graves, because there are some things children should not learn about their parents. And this goes for Lin and Madoka, as well. Especially you, Madoka. When you first came here nine years ago, you were very nosy, indeed." (Madoka blushed a little.) "But given the current circumstances, it seems I don't have much choice now. Noll, do you remember when I told you of your mother's stalker yesterday?"

"How could I not forget?"

"Well, that's not the first time your mother had a stalker." (Mai gaped but didn't bother to cover her mouth, while Madoka bit down on her lower lip. Noll and Lin took it without flinching, but you could tell they were worried, especially Noll.) "I know it's hard to believe, but this happened before. It was 1977, during the murders in Spitalfields. I was nineteen then, and your mother was eighteen. We were both still at Trinity College at Oxford then. But before I go into the particulars, I must add that this was before the death of Maple Carmyne. When your mother and I had this encounter, there were just two victims, Sherry Mason and Sora Weathercook; at the time of the encounter, Weathercook's murder hadn't yet been identified as a serial murder for the next three weeks, at least."

"What happened afterwards?" said Noll.

"Eh... After the event, I got into a bit of a ruckus with the authorities. Up until that time, it was the worst experience I've had. Of course, when I reported it to the police, a few of them had their suspicions, but Mr. Meiler protected me. When he interviewed me, I was a nervous wreck; but who wouldn't be after being held at first as a 'person of interest,' as Mr. Meiler called it? After that, I made it a point never to let Luella walk alone during the evening or even during the day. In essence, where she went, I went too. We sometimes drove each other nuts, but in the end, I was right to be so vigilant. Because that night, when your mother and I were...um..." Martin stopped, blushing; the kid found it unnerving to see his old man act so touchy-feely like this.

"Mind out of the gutter, Martin," said Luella.

Noll sighed. "What exactly happened?"

Martin continued, "Your mother and I were dating at the time; I think it was during spring break. Anyway, we were young and carefree, and looking back on it now, we were also very naive. Stupid, you might say. You see, there was a lover's lane thirty years ago called Mary Anne's Hollow, several miles from the grounds of the college on the outskirts of Oxford near Boars Hill, where all the young kids used to go and make out. I'm sure you know what a lover's lane is, don't you, Noll?" He saw his son rolling his eyes, so he went on, "Well, that night we brought along our college friends and did all the things that love-struck teenagers did. When we were done, we went to go see a movie, while our friends went home. On our way, however, we had two flat tires, and we didn't have a spare, so we were stranded.

"And when I say stranded, I mean truly, we were stranded. The city limits of Oxford didn't reach as far then as it does now. In fact, the nearest post of Oxford was twenty miles away, and Mary Anne's Hollow was quite rural, at some points very bumpy. It wouldn't do any good running on rims over it. Of course, it had to be nearing sunset, and the once beautiful place turned into a very dangerous place. So we decided to wait it out in the car, and just to make sure, we turned on the radio to hear what was going on. We stayed that way until midnight, I think, listening to music and trying to catch some sleep. I think we were sleeping when a news bulletin came on and woke us up. And we listened to an update of Sora Weathercook's murder. As it turned out, it was a serial murder done by the same killer. That got us scared; we just found out about her death a few three weeks before."

"Why did you even go," said Noll, "when you knew there was someone out there?"

"Because I was stupid back then; I was too arrogant to admit my fears, till those fears came rushing at me and your mother. All the murders that time took place within the city limits away from the rural areas, and I was foolish enough to believe that the farther away we were to the scene of those crimes, the safer we'd be. Thank God you and Gene never had that kind of stupidity."

I'd beg to differ, thought Mai. If you only knew how self-centered he could be in his cases.

Madoka had the same thoughts, and so did Lin; today's events were proof enough.

"Anyway," continued Martin, "I started up the car and drove on slowly through the winding trail. I had no choice but to drive slowly, for fear of doing too much damage to the rims and the underside of the car. (God, I can't believe I was so stupid!) And so we kept driving that way for about an hour and got two more flat tires. She still ran good when we turned off the dirt road and reached an actual street. But then we ran over a pothole and damaged the underside of the car. Just my luck, there had to be an oil leak under it, so I had to drive even slower to save up on the gas. Eventually, after nearly five hours, we rolled into the nearest gas station to fuel up and get the car fixed as the sun rose. By then, we were irritable but too tired to argue; we just went into town to get an early breakfast, went back to our dorms and slept the remaining day off. I honestly thought our encounter was over, but it wasn't.

"You see, your mother's stalker went on for a month, tormenting her to no end. At first, your mother kept getting these lewd anonymous letters in the mail; soon, it turned into letters with toe nail clipping inside the envelopes. Then locks of human hair; then pieces of skin; then teeth; then whole fingers and toes. At one time, there was even a human tongue in one envelope. In three week's time, Luella let the police commandeer her mailbox address and was issued another one. By that time, she moved in with me, so I could keep an eye on her. Soon afterward, it got to the point where even my mail got tampered with threats against me. And when the press got wind of all that had happened, your mother and I got swamped by the press, and we couldn't get an ounce of privacy."

Martin rubbed at his temples, massaging away the headache of those memories. "That month was the closest thing to pure Hell I know of, something I swear never to allow on myself, or on anyone else for that matter, so long as I live. But so far, I've failed; this horror has not only touched our lives, it has also touched yours. Now you know why I changed the home phone without letting you know; I didn't want those horrors to reach you while you were in Japan. We tried all we could to keep this away from you, and Lin, and Madoka. That's why I told you to stay away from the press. We took the actions we took for your safety. Had I known you were taking Gene back in a coffin instead of alive, I would've never let you go over there in the first place."

Noll was lost in thought. Pinchers of guilt clutched at him. He should have told his parents of Gene's death the moment he woke up on that tragic September morn, but he'd been selfish, wanting to delay the horror. And not even for his parents but for himself. Eight months of pain for them to pine through, as they wondered what had happened to Gene and what might happen to Noll. Months lost in a selfish search, when he should have been there for them to console his mother when she was followed.

"Noll, what are you thinking?" said Luella.

The kid turned to her. "Did police ever track down who sent those letters?"

"No. Mr. Meiler said they had no address; when they checked for prints, they couldn't find any."

"When did the stalking stop? Or did it ever stop?"

She sighed, looking at Father Carmyne, then back at Noll. "It only stopped when Maple Carmyne died; Mr. Meiler offered counseling to your father and I during the month before her death. And when we heard of Mrs. Carmyne's death, we attended her funeral after the stalking; it was the first time we met Mr. Carmyne and his friends, Evan Moore and Lean Gordon. You could say the ordeal brought us together."

"You think all of that happened for a reason?"

"I didn't no at the time, but now I think I do. Your father and I tried to keep everything from you to protect you from the horrors of our pasts, but now I think we were meant to solve that case; otherwise, we wouldn't be here talking about this. Whether it was actual fate or not, I'm not quite sure. Back then, your father and I had no idea of what would happen next."

"Then what kept you all together? What made you take that case?"

"It was my idea, Noll," said Jacob. "But it took some years to realize what we had on our hands. You see, other than Maple Carmyne's death and your mother's stalker, we didn't think it had any connections deeper than those of Spitalfields. Then a year after Spitalfields, Evan Moore's death got me thinking about our safety. But it wasn't until the deaths of my partners, Thomas Matheson and Tony Levine, and the death of my wife, that I began to think something was out to get us. Of course, I still thought such a notion as utter nonsense; without proof, my fears remained unfounded. In 1979, just after the death of my wife, I asked your father to do some private investigating into these inexplicable deaths." (Noll looked over at Martin, who was still leaning on the sofa's arm.) "Your mother had volunteered as well. Both did interviews with me and Father Carmyne and anyone else connected to the Spitalfields case."

"That's when I managed to shed some light on it," said Martin, walking to one of the bookshelves on the left wall and getting out a file at least twenty years old. He set it on the table and said, "Now whatever is in this file does not leave this room under any circumstances, understood?" When everyone nodded, he opened it to reveal a list of names with a few documents below each and said, "When I interviewed Father Carmyne and Mr. Meiler for anything unusual when both wives died, they said they each received a message. Father Carmyne found this message when he returned home after identifying Maple Carmyne's body in the morgue in 1977," and he pointed out those very words on a black-and-white photo of the kitchen wall of his house, written in blood.

TO THE DEATH FOR YOU AND I!
BUT YOU CANNOT KILL A DEAD MAN!

"Jacob Meiler," he continued, "found this in an alley along William Street after the death of Tony Levine one night in 1979 and again the next morning in his bedroom after the death of Callie Meiler," and Matin pointed out the two black-and-white photos of words on the walls of each.

NO MEDDLING IN MY AFFAIRS!
ONE MORE, AND YOU WILL REGRET IT!

"And after interviewing Jason Pickmasters about the death of Evan Moore, he showed me a piece of paper that Mr. Moore had given him in a bar in 1978," and he pointed out a copy of that sheet with those three morbid lines.

THERE IS NO HELL LIKE THE GUILT OF A SINNER YET TO BE PUNISHED.
FOR IN THE END, ALL MUST DIE.
FOR ONLY IN DEATH ARE ALL MORTALS EQUAL IN GOD'S EYES.

"As you can see, there is a pattern going on in the 1977 and 1979 notes. I believe each message was a warning to Father Carmyne and Jacob Meiler. Based on these findings, I had Father Carmyne and Mr. Meiler on watch for about a month, but nothing else happened. Since then, they took precautions to never walk alone at night in the street for fear that whoever made these messages should strike again. But on numerous occasions, Mr. Meiler broke that stipulation, so I volunteered to walk with him on his nightly patrols as an honorary warden for seven years, until Albert Grady became his partner in 1986. Of course, nobody outside me and Mr. Meiler knew about my accompaniment in those patrols; it was all kept hush-hush. But one night in 1982, you"—he turned to Luella—"followed me into one of my patrols with Mr. Meiler and found out the real reason I went out almost every other night; I still stand by my word: You should have never done what you did."

"You would've done the same," said Luella, "if you were in my shoes."

Martin sighed. "Luella, please don't start. Not now."

All this time, Noll had kept a straight face through the whole briefing, but hearing his mother's actions stunned him. They mirrored all too well the actions of a certain someone under his employment. He looked at his mother in disbelief; then he looked at Mai. He could not believe the two shared something in common—recklessness. But then again, whereas Noll knew Mai like a book, he hardly knew anything about his mother beyond the motherly aspects, which he found a bit unnerving.

Mai read his mind and said, "I would nevah do thaht, Naru."

"Not yet, at least." That earned him an elbow to the ribs.

Matin and Luella watched, then looked at each other, then back at Noll and Mai. Yep; like it or not, Noll found his soul mate, that's for sure.

"Anyway," continued Martin, "besides Luella, no one else—"

"Wait a minute," said Albert, looking at Martin and then at Jacob. "Jake, you never told me this. All this time, I thought nobody—"

"Nobody in Scotland yard, that is," the old man said. "Mr. Davis here volunteered against himself for my sake, and for that, you and I are in his debt. You could say that Martin was an honorary cop, since there are no laws in England forbidding a citizen from assisting in patrols."

"Thank you," said Martin. "As for Evan Moore's message, I thought it didn't follow the other two messages at first, since Mr. Moore wrote this one himself, leaving pages and pages of this in his house. It was a message to others who found it after he died. Jason Pickmasters said Mr. Moore gave it to him before he died, meaning that he wanted to tell him something he was too afraid to tell directly."

"What did he want to tell him?" said Noll.

"Ah, there's the rub. Mr. Moore tried to describe something; I just didn't know what. After those three messages, I had nothing else to go on. Soon, it grew into a cold case, and I placed it on working hiatus to be worked on—or updated—every six months. I worked it from time to time and got nothing else for it. Afterward, I forgot about it and continued on other paranormal cases. It wasn't until 2003, almost thirty years later, that I got something of it. By this time, Lean Gordon, the former librarian of the Croydon Central Library, had joined the fray and noticed something I missed. And remember, this was during the first killings of the Kira case and seven years before the killings in this case. He pointed out a similar message from the Kira case in a suicide note by a convict named Yadanaka, the fifth confirmed victim of that case," and he pointed out a copy of it on another sheet.

With fear I know it.
Only from living in vain in this
nerve-racking state that I
know this.
Ultimately, he who calls
out to me, he who
yearns for my death, will kill me.
Of course I know it.
Definitely for Kira I am just...
Literally a prey.

Martin said, "Mr. Gordon said Yadanaka went insane before he wrote this. And that led him to conclude that Evan Moore went through something similar; Mr. Gordon pointed out how Yadanaka's message and Evan Moore's were similar in content, as well as being typed out, as if they could not write it out by hand, as if both were being controlled against their wills. Ms. Mori, did you run into anything like this in your interview with Mr. Aizawa?" (She said no.) "Noll, did you come across something like this?"

"Yes, I did. But you said they were controlled. Do you mean possession?"

"No, I meant mind-control. Did you see anything like it in your end?"

Noll thought about it before saying, "No. Ms. Fowler was possessed, not controlled; if she was controlled, she would have shown initial signs of fighting it with her own will. But when I talked to the spirit possessing her, it said something about willing its own will and following that will however it chooses, as if nothing else had control over it, as if he were...a god. The spirit also said he had complete control over his own fate. And like a god, he also said he had control over the fates of others."

"That's exactly how Mr. Gordon saw it."

"Wait, I don't understand," said Laurence. "What's the difference between mind-control and possession? They sound the same to me."

Martin was about to answer, but Noll said, "I'll answer that. Mind-control and possession are opposites of each other. Whereas mind-control takes control over your mind, possession takes control over your body. Think of mind-control as a stronger form of hypnotism, and possession as a stronger form of bodily influence. In mind-control, you are being controlled when something outside controls you, while in possession, you are being influenced when something outside influences you. The difference is that in mind-control, you are unaware of yourself because your mind is no longer yours; in possession, you're still aware of yourself because your mind is still yours, even when your body's actions aren't. Does that explain everything?"

"Yes, it does; thank you."

Martin looked around at everyone. "This briefing has become quite a discussion. Does anyone here have anything else to add to this?" he said, hoping there wouldn't be any.

Mai had that same sentiment; her brain, unused to such long deeply disturbing discussions, began to ache with the details of this case. What have I gotten myself into? This is way out of my league!

Unfortunately for her, Terry had something to say. "I do. Noll, Mr. Davis, sir; this is a rhetorical question, so you don't have to answer. But if you think the spirit controlled Evan Moore's mind when he wrote his message, how do you think it did that?"

Silence.

"I don't know," said Martin, "and it looks like neither does Noll. Care to fill us in?"

"Well, I've been in the British Special Forces before I became a cop, serving a tour in Iraq back in 2003. In my tenure there, I've heard of stories about how the U.S. and British governments tried to make an assassin out of unwitting test subjects. You know what I'm talking about; the one-time killer, The Manchurian Candidate (*).

"Well, I didn't believe in that till I saw it with my own eyes. Don't tell me how I saw it, because it's classified. But what I saw was a systematic form of torture that induced a mental state of mind-control (**). You see, these people (and I'm not telling who) first strapped their guy to a chair, so he wouldn't escape. Then they'd use electric shock and other methods I shouldn't even mention to torture the hell out of the poor bastard, all of which are intended to induce pain over a long period of time. The pain would be so great that the test subject would pass out from shock. But to prevent this, they'd inject adrenaline into him, keeping him awake. It's like stretching a rubber band to it's breaking point; and that's exactly what they'd do to him. And at that breaking point, there's only two things he could do: He could die, or he could switch personalities. On the rare instances that person switches personalities, he becomes something of a remote-controlled schizo. In other words, he could be used to kill literally on command. And after killing, he'd have no recollection whatsoever."

Jesus man, that's crazy, thought Bert.

No doubt, everybody had similar thoughts, many of them unnerved, including Noll. In fact, he looked at Terry with new-found awe, if not envy, thinking about his words. "If your assessment is correct, then I'm assuming that whatever killed Evan Moore must have tried to control him by causing him pain for months, which eventually killed him."

"Your guess is as good as mine," said Terry; then he looked Noll in the eye. "Don't judge a book by it's cover next time, all right?" Then he noticed Jacob sweating bucket loads on bucket loads and hyperventilating; his knuckles were bone-white as he gripped hard on his knees. Something was bothering the hell out of him. "Hey, Jake, are you okay? I've never seen you like this; and frankly, it's scaring the hell out of me, man."

"You'd be surprised, Terry."

Noll looked at the old man, thinking of that incident in the warehouse in 1977. "Was it something you saw? What did you see?"

Jacob heard him, but he ignored him as he rubbed at his temples, trying to quell the horrors flashing before him, trying to slow the ever-quickening pulses of his aging heart. Each painful beat pulsed louder and louder in his ears, almost to ringing pitch as if his heart was telling him to let it out, to release all the agonies of his life in one long scream like his life depended on it, and that if he didn't he'd surly die.

But Noll pressed on. "Alexander Gargery and Matthew Penton said you were shaking like a rag doll, when they found you on the fourth floor of a warehouse during the Spitalfields case. You even said you saw someone in that room on the fourth floor, someone dressed in a white suit, someone standing in front of a mirror, someone who turned and looked at you. What did you see when that man looked at you?"

Jacob jerked off the sofa and paced the room, his fingers pressing against his squinting eyes.

"Naru!" and Mai elbowed him again, while Luella and Madoka chided him.

Martin, Albert, Father Carmyne, Bert and Terry went to check on Jacob, who looked liked he was about to go into shock leaning himself over one of the bookshelves like a crutch.

Jacob raised his hand. "I'm all right, I'm all right... I just need time to breathe for a bit."

Terry glared at the kid and was on the warpath. "You prick! If Jake dies because of you, I'm personally gonna—!"

"HALLER!" said Albert. "Just cool it!"—now to Jacob—"Are you sure you'll be all right?"

"Just leave me be, and I'll do the rest."

So they let him be and returned to their seats, staring in contempt at Noll.

"Noll," said Martin, "I don't appreciate you grilling people like that; and in case you haven't noticed, Mr. Meiler has a heart condition, so don't push it. Mr. Meiler, are you sure you're all right?"

"Don't worry about it; this old boy is all right now," and he plopped himself onto the sofa, looking calm and collected but still a bit shaken.

A moment of silence.

"Now I'll ask one more time," said Martin. "Does anyone else have anything to add to this case?"

Yeah, thought Terry, your son is a fucking prick.

"Is that a no? Good. After Mr. Gordon's findings, there was nothing else for four more years. I slowly drifted back into doing other cases, as before. But when Lean Gordon disappeared in 2007, that's when Mr. Meiler, Father Carmyne, your mother and I knew something was amiss. Jacob issued a search for him that lasted eight months but to no avail, and Mr. Gordon remained lost to us for almost three years, until they found his foot and identified it as his. Jacob and I searched everywhere for any sign of his whereabouts at the time of his disappearance. And that's when I found this on one of the library walls," and he pointed out a color photo showing words written in blood.

YOU CAN RUN, BUT YOU CANNOT HIDE.
YOU CAN SEEK, BUT YOU CANNOT FIND.

"Noll, do you have anything to add here?"

"I do," he said.

"Of course you do," said Father Carmyne. "Back in the asylum, you looked like you had something on Mr. Gordon's disappearance, but you were in a rush to come over here; now that we're here, you care to explain yourself?"

"You remember me mentioning a woman as one of the killers?" (Everyone nodded.) "Well, I believe the same woman who ran over Gene in Japan in a hit-and-run and disposed of his body in a lake also did the same to Lean Gordon, disposing his in the Thames."

"Wait a minute," said Jacob. "Aren't you jumping to conclusions?"

"No; unless you have anything to add on the contrary."

"As a matter of fact, I do. You see, I was on that case, as your father pointed out. There's a reason why the search for his body went on for eight months. In that case, I conducted more interviews than almost any other case I've had; I got so many to the point where I had to set up a hotline and track down every lead that came my way. It was grueling work, let me tell you. Judging from eye-witness interviews and tips, I knew that sometime before closing time at 7:00 in the evening witnesses heard someone (presumably Mr. Gordon) screaming in the library. When your father and I got to the scene, we found those bloody words on the wall and no sign of Lean Gordon anywhere. We had that blood DNA tested, and it came back as Lean Gordon's. But no witness attested to seeing anybody exiting the library at or around closing time with or without a body. So we assumed that he died somewhere in the premises; only we didn't find a body. Then we expanded the case to the surrounding area and divided our efforts into two areas. The first was in the library; the second was in interviews and tips. In the end, we interviewed almost five hundred possible witnesses and chased down twice as many leads, and nothing turned up. It wasn't until almost three years later when we found a foot belonging to him in the Thames."

"But that still doesn't mean he wasn't carried over there; just because nobody saw his body carried over doesn't mean it wasn't."

"You're right; I'll give you that. But let me ask you this," and Jacob pointed to the color photo of the words from the library wall. "This was taken within half an hour of Mr. Gordon's disappearance. Look at where those words are in relation to the rest of the library. How high do you think those words are from the ground?"

Noll looked at those words. "Thirty feet, at least."

"That's three stories; it would require a ladder at least three stories high to reach that, let alone bring a paint brush and brush someone's blood on it to make a message. Do you think anyone in his right mind, let alone a woman, would take a thirty-foot ladder to the very place where he intends to murder someone? That's positively ludicrous. And on top of that, do you think anyone carrying a thirty-foot ladder in or out of that library would escape unnoticed? It doesn't make sense."

"But that doesn't mean his body was taken out."

"Noll," said Martin, "I was on my way to the library when I heard Mr. Gordon scream." (The kid was surprised but didn't show it.) "Yes, I was one of those witnesses."

"Why were you going over there at closing time?"

"Because Mr. Gordon was the librarian, and we worked together on those messages. Since he was the librarian, he had the keys; we worked on those messages till midnight, at times toward early morning. I'm sure you've wondered why I went to the library so often at 6:30 and left you and Gene to Lin and Madoka's care, haven't you?"

Indeed, Noll did; he even remembered when he was eight how he once demanded to go with his father to the library to see what he was doing, to see if his father wasn't having an affair with someone behind his mother's back. That's how he first met Lean Gordon, growing to respect him as the years went on. Noll nodded yes.

"I thought so. I was at the entrance when I heard the scream, and I rushed in and saw that message"—and he pointed to the photo again—"on the wall, but I couldn't find Mr. Gordon anywhere. All I found of him were his glasses, and as you well know, he never goes anywhere without his glasses. Those glasses were on the floor, and both lenses were cracked, and the frame was mangled. That's when I called Mr. Meiler."

"What do you think happened to him?"

"I don't know. And how his foot ended up in the Thames, I haven't the slightest idea. Nor, for that matter, how that message got on the wall." (Silence. Noll looked down.) "Noll, you're only human; we all are. Even the best of minds foul up sometimes. All right, does anyone else have anything to add here?" (No one did.) "Good. And for the message from February of this year, Father Carmyne found this in his home after being informed of Alice Carmyne's death," and he pointed out the color photo of the bloody message, again on the kitchen wall.

THROUGH SHUT EYES, TRUTH OPENS WIDE.
THROUGH MY SIGHT, ALL TRUTH DEFINED.

"Now except for Evan Moore's message, notice how these messages are written in blood on the walls. The words are not merely brushed on the surface; you could not paint over them, as Mr. Meiler and Father Carmyne found out. In order to get those words off the walls, you had to literally replace the surface they're on, as if those messages came from within the walls themselves."

"You mean," said Lin, "those words bled through the walls?"

"Exactly. And the message Mr. Meiler found in the alley is still there, I assure you. You cannot take off the words without taking out a good portion of the wall and about half of the apartment complex with it."

Noll looked at those messages, all of which seemed to build a disturbing portrait of what Reynard Malders had become; he remembered how Reynard Malders had given him mercy when he decided not to send someone to kill his mother; he remembered how he spared him that horrible fate in Japan, killing Gene instead; he even remembered how he told him to be grateful, not hateful, to his so-called benefactor. Then he had a brain wave, so he took out his black book and wrote in the messages in chronological order, dating them and noting who they were from; then he added one more at the end. Then he said, "Father, from everything you've gathered in this briefing, what profile can you give of the spirit of Reynard Malders?"

His father looked at him. What are you thinking, Noll? "Off the top of my head, I'd say he has a serious ax to grind."

"And considering everything you said, what do all those messages mean when taken as a whole?"

Martin sighed. "You have me stumped. Care to enlighten?"

"When I talked with the spirit in the asylum, I noticed something about him. Before I pushed him over the edge and he attacked me, Reynard Malders tried to show...his benevolence, even when he knew I befriended Lean Gordon, one of his so-called sworn enemies. What do you think he would have done to me, if he would have hated me as much as he hated Mr. Meiler, or Father Carmyne, or Evan Moore, or Lean Gordon? What would he have done to my mother, if he held that kind of hate toward her?"

"He would've had both of you killed, but thank God he didn't."

"Who are you really thankful for? God or Reynard Malders?"

"You're talking in riddles, Noll. What's this about?"

"Reynard Malders thinks he's a god to be feared by his enemies," and he looked at Jacob and Father Carmyne, "and worshipped in thanks by his followers. And remember that he has two followers, and one of them has been committing all these murders for decades without being caught, let alone identified. In all these killings, nobody had found any substantial evidence to incriminate either killer. Mr. Grendal, in your briefing yesterday you said one of the witnesses was able to describe the killer's face, but he's escaped capture. Why is that?"

"Yes, it does raise questions," said Martin, "but where are you going with this?"

Noll sighed. "If both killers, this woman and this older man, escaped detection, wouldn't that be because Reynard Malders had a hand in it?"

"Yes, that sounds plausible... Wait, are you suggesting that it's mutual? His followers do his bidding by killing his enemies, while he watches out for them?"

"Exactly."

"But that doesn't leave much incentive to do these crimes, especially when you live a life on the run."

"Unless you believe the one protecting you to be a true god." Noll looked at Madoka, then back at his father. "Teru Mikami believed Light Yagami was the true god; wouldn't that be the same thing with these two killers and Reynard Malders?"

"Yes, now that you put it that way."

"And if you are a god, wouldn't you not only punish your enemies, but try to gain followers by giving a message for them to follow?"

Father Carmyne fidgeted to no end but resisted all he could, till he couldn't take anymore. "Noll, that's blasphemy! You actually think some murderous being from beyond the grave is trying to overtake the throne of God for himself?"

"Exactly, by preaching not only his wrath but also his forgiveness of sins."

The father eyed him. "Noll... Are you an agnostic?"

Noll glared at him. "That is none of your concern; my personal beliefs have no bearing on this case."

"Noll, calm down," said Martin, rubbing at his temples to relieve the tensions of a marathon briefing. "Everything you've suggested so far makes sense, but where do you base your reasoning from? What led you to your conclusions?"

"You need look no further than those messages you just shared," and he laid out his findings for all to see.

(From Father Carmyne—1977)

TO THE DEATH FOR YOU AND I!
BUT YOU CANNOT KILL A DEAD MAN!

(From Evan Moore—1979)

THERE IS NO HELL LIKE THE GUILT OF A SINNER YET TO BE PUNISHED.
FOR IN THE END, ALL MUST DIE.
FOR ONLY IN DEATH ARE ALL MORTALS EQUAL IN GOD'S EYES.

(From Jacob Meiler—1979)

NO MEDDLING IN MY AFFAIRS!
ONE MORE, AND YOU WILL REGRET IT!

(From Lean Gordon—2007)

YOU CAN RUN, BUT YOU CANNOT HIDE.
YOU CAN SEEK, BUT YOU CANNOT FIND.

(From Father Carmyne—2010)

THROUGH SHUT EYES, TRUTH OPENS WIDE.
THROUGH MY SIGHT, ALL TRUTH DEFINED.

(From Reynard Malders—2010)

When men my scythe and darts supply,
How great a King of Fears am I!

"Reynard Malders quoted the last one from the poet, Thomas Parnell, when he described himself back at the hospital. And if Mr. Moore's mind was controlled when he typed his message, he would have tried to fight it by writing that message over and over again, as if trying to exorcise his torments through repetitious writing. And when you string these messages together in chronological order, it sounds a lot like a sermon that warns those who won't follow him and preaches to those who would follow him. That sounds a lot like the KIRA video Ms. Mori showed us. And as far as I know, maybe that's how Reynard Malders recruited those two killers to do his so-called bidding here on earth. He converts them, in other words, and makes them his pawns. I hope that clears up everything."

It did, and everyone turned white because of it. Realization had come to them like a sucker punch in the stomach, bowling them over in a chorus of stunned silence.

Moments passed. Then Martin said, "Do you think this message is for all of us?"

"Only for those who would listen."

Silence.

"All right," said Martin, "I have no more to add to this case. Does anyone here have anything else to add," and this time, he prayed no one else did. Silence. "Good. The briefing has ended."

Thank God, thought Mai, taking her first full breath in God knows how long. For her, the last couple of minutes felt like entering The Twilight Zone; and in all honesty, despite the horrors of each finding and the jolts of each scare, she yawned like she had been up all night studying for some test with the grim prospects of failing that test the next day. She was beginning to zone out even before she lifted herself from the sofa. She happened to look at the clock on the wall. And no wonder! The last time she checked, the briefing had started at 8:30 p.m., and now it was almost 12:30 a.m. Four freaking hours! Her butt ached when she hauled herself off the sofa.

As everybody got up and said their goodbyes for the night, Noll asked Father Carmyne to bless the house. At first, the father looked at him to see if he was serious, and he was; so he did as he was asked. Then Noll reminded Terry to have all the witnesses in by tomorrow morning, to which he grudgingly agreed. "But I don't want them here," said Noll.

Terry looked at him. "And why's that?"

"This case has enough attention as it is. If this case boils over or information of my involvement gets leaked to the press, I'd rather have it away from this house."

"I see. Where do you want to interview them? And don't say at the MIT building. That place is crawling with news hounds."

Noll thought for a moment, then said, "At the Central Library."

"The one at the Croydon Clocktower?" (Noll said yes.) "All right, we'll meet you there," and he walked his tired self out the door where Jacob, Albert and his son Laurence were waiting in the police car.

But Martin still sat near the sofa, and that surprised Mai. As Lin and Madoka stomped up the stairs, Mai stayed behind to watch; she knew she shouldn't pry into personal matters, but she just couldn't help it as she wondered what was going on with Noll. Only then did she realize Luella's hand on her shoulder.

"Sohrry," she said, "I nevah meant to—"

"Oh, that's quite all right, dear," said Luella, looking at father and son. "I've known Martin since high school; he's not the type to get too wound up for almost anything. I wonder what he has to say to Noll."

"He isn't ahngry at Naru, is he?"

"I doubt it. Martin rarely gets angry for anything; but I can tell he's concerned for him. I know I am."

And so was Mai. The two looked at the scene before them.

"Noll, I need to talk to you," said Martin. "What's on your mind?"

Noll had his back to him. "Nothing."

"Are you sure? Noll, look at me when I'm talking to you." When Noll turned around, he said, "You don't have to hide your fears from me, or your mother, or from anyone in this house. I know this case is hard on you; it's hard on everyone. You only need to look at me to know just how hard it has been. Look at the wrinkles on my eyes, look at the wrinkles on my forehead, look at all the gray hairs on my head. I have been obsessing over this case, off and on for over thirty years, and look at how it's consumed me. Look at what this case has done to me. Look at Jacob Meiler and Father Carmyne; I dare say they're even worse off than I am. I have obsessed over this case, when I really should have been looking out for you and Gene; and now Gene is dead. And for that, I can only blame myself."

"You don't have to do that."

"Oh, but I do, because I carry a heavy burden in my heart. Noll, I know you're as strong as they come, as strong as any that has ever walked the earth. But don't carry this entire case on your shoulders; don't let this case consume you, as it has consumed me. We are a team, Noll; we are a family. And as a family, we will overcome whatever this case throws at us. Do you understand?"

Noll nodded yes. And he was free to go.

(To be continued...)

A/N: Sorry it took so long, but here's the next installment of The Whitechapel Case... Hope you got an clearer a picture of how much more personal this is for Noll in this chapter... Anyway, hope you enjoyed it, and don't forget to comment... vote, if you like it... ( ^_^ )

(*The Manchurian Candidate. See The Manchurian on Wikipedia.)

(**Mind-Control. See Conspiracy Theory with Jesse Ventura on Wikipedia.)