It was that brief period in time, when the late night people of Manhattan faded into the confines of their apartments mostly in the other boroughs of the city; and the day life was only beginning to emerge. The June sun hadn’t completely kicked the darkness from the sky, when the man opted to relax in the cool breezes of Central Park. 1
Renee Weinberg, slender perhaps tipping the scales a 110 pounds, with her dark brown hair bouncing on her shoulders, jogged here for an hour each morning. Yesterday he’d run by her. Completely at ease with his hoody pulled up to hide his face; he enjoyed the scent of her sweat in the air as he passed by her.2
Certain that she would return to claim her white Mazda parked just outside the fence, he didn’t bother to run this morning. It was pleasant for him to sit in open places watching the life of the city moving along. He would contemplate the value of individuals, guessing at their type of employment, what if any credible assets they gave back to society for the privilege of life. For life to him was a gift many humans didn’t deserve. In particularly weak and whiny females who hung on to some man though he abused or demeaned them. He saw these women as disgusting creatures who should be removed from existence before their bodies could bring forth youngsters to share their fate. 3
An intelligent man, he’d been only slightly troubled by the police visit. He felt confident that their investigations into these suicides were still just that—something they were required to do to earn their pay. Finishing the takeout coffee, that had finally grown cool enough to drink, he glanced around for a trash receptacle. The only one in the immediate area hadn’t been emptied after a night’s use. He took several tissues from his pocket wiped the cup inside and out before he crushed the Styrofoam and placed it in the pocket of his jogging shorts.4
New York was the perfect spot for him. He’d only arrived in New York less than a year ago and already he knew the city better than folks who had lived here all their lives. This became his new hunting ground. There where so many lonely worthless young females here. These severely depressed suicidal women were easily coerced into taking their own lives with his assistance. 5
He was proud of himself for changing his technique. That last Carolina murder had nearly finished him. The bitch only had a few hundred in her checking account and her charge cards were maxed out. Short on funds, he’d been forced to stay in Charleston longer than he planned. 6
While he sweat out those last weeks in Charleston awaiting payment for jewelry he was forced to unload in a hurry, a new plan took form. Since it wasn’t important how the women died, just that the wimpy little wenches met an early death; he’d decided to create a new modus operandi. 7
Now he glanced up just as Renee jogged into view. He looked down and his hoody further disguised his features as he began rubbing his left calf muscle while she ran by him. 8
Her scent of sweat lingered in the air a moment, like the predator he was he sniffed and smiled in anticipation.9
It was just a quarter to seven. The skinny brunette had two hours before her first class.10
With no need to follow Renee since he knew her destination, he waited until the white Mazda pulled into traffic. 11
Nonchalantly he headed for his own car. From the trunk he removed a pair of navy slacks and black loafers. He slipped out of the hoody and tossed it inside. Once the air conditioner’s output sufficiently cooled the inside of the auto he pulled on his slacks, shoved in the bottom of the dress shirt he’d worn under the hoody and exchanged white sneakers for black loafers.12
A quick comb to dark hair, and he set off to reel in his prey.13
At twenty five past eight, the white Mazda was still where he expected it to remain until quarter till nine when Renee, with wet hair hanging and a tote hung over her shoulder would come rushing from the apartment building.14
Not this morning my delightful Renee, he thought and smiled. He'd been sitting in his luxurious car listening to Jethro Tull's Aqualung. He loved Jethro Tull. Having a smoke and a Coke, he imaged how his encounter with Renee would go. He expected no difficulty. She would be like the others. He could feel his pulse quickening as he left the car. 15
He walked briskly the half block required. As he was about to ring for permission to enter the building, when a man in postal uniform came out.16
"Nice day, isn't it," said the postman and held the door open.17
"Yes, it is," he replied as he stepped in to the entrance hall. 'Damn it!' he thought. 'I didn't see him go in.'18
Still, if anyone questioned the postman, which didn’t seem likely in a suicide case, what could he tell them. A friendly dark haired guy in a suit passed me on the stairs. It would seem stranger if he refused the offer of the open door.. Besides didn’t Renee deserve the day off? He let out a soft whistle.19
He took the elevator to the fifth floor. Renee's apartment was on the right in the hall facing north, number 507. Just as he was about to knock, the door across the hall opened. Without thinking, he turned. A middle-aged woman wearing a faded print robe was picking up her newspaper. She smiled at him and said, "Good morning. Renee’s usually left for class by now.”20
"Oh," he said. "Then I should probably come back later."21
. She smiled and stepped back inside.22
‘Shows how much you know old lady, he thought. ‘She won’t leave for ten minutes-- "Shit!" he said under his breath. The postman and now the woman. The nosey woman was too much. The postman might not remember him, but surely the woman would. 'Well, Renee. If you are to die today, I guess it will have to be without my help.' He turned and left the building the way he had come.
In a list
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Comments
1 - 13 of 13
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Great
Well she will live another day, strange about the cleaning of the coffee cup just like soneone else we know.
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Hi there!
So good to have you reading us! It's very good to see you. We're glad your back for more. We hope to keep you entertained.
Thanks for staying with us.
Andy
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Lucky renee for having a nosey neighbor--I was beginning to think you were going to make things too-easy for dale?
beginning: 5, language: 5, plot: 5, ending: 5, dialog: 5, characters: 5.
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Well,
We can't have things to easy for our killer. Dale?
I'm trying to catch up with you
!
Andy
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I see that the small errors have already been pointed out, so I'll just say I'm enjoying this story.
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Hi there!
I think that this is the last of your comments from today. I want you to know that we deeply appreciate your interest in our story. We hope that you really enjoy it.
Thanks,
Andy
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I was wondering when we'd see the killer again - actually that was my thought exactly after finishing chapter 10.
I like the idea of him stalking another victim, only to be twarted by a nosey old woman. I think it adds character to the story, and is very probable. Nicely done!
Notes:
* Para 2: Check this semicolon, will you? (I pay way too much attention to them...*laughs*).
* Para 3: The phrase "slender perhaps tipping the scales at 110 pounds" is off somehow...maybe adding an and between "slender" and "perhaps" would help. Otherwise, you may have to restructure the whole sentence... Bothersome syntax.
* Para 3: Another pesky semicolon...
* Para 4: She drives somewhere to run? I think "In particularly weak and whiny..." should actually be "In particular, weak and whiny..."
* Para 8: Semicolon! Sorry, they really are a pet peeve of mine... *laughs*
* Para 10: You already mentioned smelling her sweat once. Also, this should be two sentences.
* Para 13: Isn't wearing black and blue together some kind of fashion faux pas? Not that I know anything about fashion, just saying...
* Para 24: You're missing a ' before "he thought." -
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Nice to have you back!
Thanks for keeping after this story and for commenting, and proofing. I appreciate it. Yeah, we brought the killer out again. Didn't want everyone to forget about him. Black and blue, probably depends on the shades of blue. Might need to make it a light blue. I don't know much about fashion, either.
Andy
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Very well done and very well written
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A look into the mind...
...of a serial killer in paragraph four, not a pleasant place to view, but fitting for for your story line and gives the reader a clue as to motive.
I do like the way the random appearance of the two people gave the poor girl another lease on life, however brief, nice twist and builds anticipation.
However....and intended as constructive criticism, although it may also be stylistic differences only:
P3 L1 "scale (a) at? 110"
P3 L4 & P10 L1, the double use of the word, 'sweat', I find jarring and would use only in reference to the sweat of fear that might be detected by an animal, seldom a human, as our senses are much less acute than animals.
Again, perhaps only stylistic, but the use of song titles or performers, your Jethro Tull, is something young new writers do to share their music preferences in somewhat of an arrogant manner...and the word, 'hoody' which I find myself over using, shows up too many times in your story, (my opinion only).
One further thing, in some writer's manual somewhere I read that numbers under one thousand are always spelled out in prose, not sure if that is a hard and fast rule, and especially here, as '110' portrays a slim sexiness that I too, try to achieve in descriptive terms...
Stiil, a good addition to your story, continued good wishes on your collaborative efforts...
regards...
amicus...
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Thanks Amicus
Thanks for reading, commenting, and the suggestions. I appreciate it. I thought that in storywriting, ten and under should be spelled. I'll go over the story again. I think a more physical description of Renee would be good.
I think the story is coming along nicely.
Andy
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Wow!
Hello Andy:
You know I'm squeamish about murder and mayhem, but this was great! You took me to the brink but at the last minute the murderer didn't deliver! It was masterful indeed.
Thank you!
Anaya
beginning: 5, language: 5, plot: 5, ending: 5, dialog: 5, characters: 5.
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Thanks
This was Geri's idea, to have one get away. We both wrote it and she gave it the finishing touches. She and I make a good team. I'm glad you liked it. There will be a violent murder coming up in the future, but nobody's perfect. Thanks for reading, commenting, and all the applause.
Andy
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