pwtmuvq@cdsnet.com: aand daaggers were displaayed on laarge rotund bodies enveloped - news.admin.net-abuse.sightings

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pwtmuvq@cdsnet.com: aand daaggers were displaayed on laarge rotund bodies enveloped

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Seth Breidbart

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More options Nov 6 2003, 2:30 pm

Newsgroups: news.admin.net-abuse.sightings

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From: Seth Breidbart <se...@panix.com>

Date: Thu, 6 Nov 2003 19:30:15 +0000 (UTC)

Local: Thurs, Nov 6 2003 2:30 pm

Subject: [email] pwtmuvq@cdsnet.com: aand daaggers were displaayed on laarge rotund bodies enveloped

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From: "Anne Mohr" <pwtm...@cdsnet.com>
Reply-To: "Anne Mohr" <pwtm...@cdsnet.com>
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Subject: aand daaggers were displaayed on laarge rotund bodies enveloped
Date: Fri, 07 Nov 03 00:40:27 GMT
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<HTML><HEAD>
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<BODY>
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"But the closest=
I came to a orthopedic brilliant deduction
like William equivocate Powell and Warner Oland and Basil =
devil Rathbone in all those afterward old movies
was: baccarat seven years ago in June, the Mephistopheles murders my=
steriously stopped.
One carport month later, Welch turns up storeroom macassar =
buckwheat at a Fourth of July party, engaged to Lucy.
And no sooner does Lucy dump Welch than Mephistopheles comes out of reti=
rement
and makes her his next victim. I mean, I wouldn't hang anybody on that; =
but
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"Well, she told you about h=
er marriage.
She told you about other bars she went to. Welch snowmobile knew your =
name and address,
which kind of suggests irrawaddy musk swab she =
extravaganza did too. I mean, you can't blame dispelled us for--uh- jum=
ping
to conclusions."
Jimmy flinched.
Another shrug. "So I let her talk to me. S=
o I let
her think I was comin' on to her." He and Lieutenant Peyton studied=
each
other. "So maybe I was. Hey, I been married--what?--twelve years? I=
used
to be real big with the ladies. So I let some fine-lookin' chick make so=
me moves
on me, show me I still got it. Even the most happily married man's gotta=
do
that or he gets stale. Right, hoe?"
"I guess so."
 
They were precinct bound.
"What do you think of his story?" ask=
ed Jimmy.
"Story's fine. But did you notice Mrs. Dim=
ke's wrists?"
Jimmy vaguely recalled bruises.
"And the way she acted?"
=0A"She acted bored."
"She acted scared. She was scared to let u=
s see
how scared she was, so she held herself in. There's plenty she could tel=
l us,
but she knows what he'll do to her if she does."
"So it's between Welch and Dimke?"</f=
ont>
"One thing's sure: it wasn't him."</f=
ont>
"Him?"
Lieutenant Peyton grinned. "You know.&quot=
;
 
The lieutenant flipped on his office light. "The bloodstains show s=
he was
killed in the bedroom. And there was no sign of a struggle, so it was ev=
idently
someone she trusted." He started going through the mail on his desk=
"I
mean, can you see anyone letting him get that close--and in her bedroom =
yet?"
He glanced at one of the envelopes, started mov=
ing it
to the bottom, then glanced at it again.
His face went blank.
"What's wrong, Dad?"
The old man struggled to smile. "Now, you =
got me
doing it. Where's the letter opener?" He went through his top drawe=
r, then
the second drawers on each side, then the next, growing more frantic wit=
h each
drawer. "Where the hell is the damn letter opener?"=

"Dad." He grabbed the envelope and ri=
pped off
an edge.
Lieutenant lars Peyton snatched it back=
, bromide clawed out the paper
inside, shook it open, and read it.
He offered it to his son with vida a tr=
embling hand, looking
as if he were going to vomit.
The hand-printed balk words flew up li=
ke fists: "Lucy
Welch was my return performance. Mephistopheles."
Jimmy foggily heard his father: "First goo=
d hunch
you had since you got promoted out of uniform; and it had to be about hi=
m."
 
The bar was on the first level of the Renaissance Center. It was a slow =
night.
The bartender and all but two of the patrons were engrossed in a televis=
ed Tigers
game.
The Peytons sat, hunched over drinks, in the di=
m red
glow, remembering seven years ago. . . .
 
Lieutenant Peyton recalled a youngnaturopath blonde, nude on a morgue =
slab. Her face was
like the wholesome farm girls on the cover of his folks' American Magazi=
nes,
except for the lump on her head and the gash across her throat.</=
p>
An officer read from a notebook: "Her name=
was Helen
Dunn. rawhide Twenty-three years old. She was a barmaid." He n=
amed a bar near Wayne
State University. "Her boss was emptying out some trash, right afte=
r opening
up, when he found her body behind some cans." 
"Had there been any trouble recently?&quot=
;
"Nothing in particular; but you know how b=
armaids
are."
"Yeah." He replaced the sheet, wonder=
ing how
to say what he had to say without revealing too much. He decided it was =
impossible.
"I want this to have top priority. I want to know who works there, =
who
drinks there--everything."
"Something special about this, sir?"<=
/font>
"Maybe I just don't like to see twenty-thr=
ee-year-old
girls die."
He was not fooling the rinse officer. He=
did not care.
The "something special" was a printed=
note
now in his desk drawer: "Helen Dunn begins her beauty sleep tonight=
It's
going to be a long one. Mephistopheles. . . ."
Anyone can write a note, blame a personal killi=
ng on
a fictional psychopath. The police investigated the murder with more tha=
n usual
diligence, but spread no alarms.
Peyton dismissed the note as a blind a week and=
a half
later, but spent the next two months eben going through his mail=
on the brink of
cardiac arrest.
He had just stopped fearing postal deliveries w=
hen the
second note arrived: "I'm afraid vdool
yd cjrklzvcrqlbuvyvd ozfr dqopa qo c Tracy Huggins won't h=
ave much time for
studying from now on. But that do.
. . ."
That was the end of it.
Until now.
 
* * *
"Why?" Her body tightened with rage. =
"I
mean, what makes you suspect them?"
He took his notebook from a drawer, placed it o=
pen on
the desk, and poised a pen over it.
She relaxed a little. "I only met Welch on=
ce, back
in 1977, when Lucy brought him home for a Fourth of July picnic. They we=
ren't
married yet, think she just met him. Didn't like him then. Every time I =
turned
around, he was hangin' around her; or he wasn't far away, watchin' her.<=
/font>
"And the way he watched her. I been in eno=
ugh bars
to know when a man watches you that way, you don't want no part of him.<=
/font>

  
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