Autopsy of a Mind

Chapter 113: Shred of Control

Mothers had strong instincts to protect their offsprings but her words were rehearsed. The lack of emotion and the slight trace of nervousness gave her away. I glanced towards Carol and found her peering at me from behind her mother, her eyes curious and devoid of panic. 

I stared right into Grace's eyes as I apologized. "I'm sorry, Grace. I think the whole incident spooked her." I bowed to show sincerity. 

"I will sue you if this hurts her mental health," she yelled. She dragged Carol out of the station and the others stared. 

"I'm sorry for the inconvenience," I said softly to everyone. When I went back to Nash's side, Sebastian had already come out. 

"So, what is the plan?" he asked. I thought about it for a minute. 

"She said some troubling things about adults and being at the scene before everyone. Can we use the interview tapes to get child protective services to go to her house? Do a welfare check?" I asked. 

Nash thought about it for a moment. "Not a bad idea. We'll say you were suspicious and find out the living conditions, talk to neighbors about the people who come in and out. We'll give the officers a heads up to search through everything and see if we can find more clues."

Sebastian was stoic. "A child serial killer, huh? Why did she scream, though?"

"I think she wanted to say more but her mother had taught her not to answer questions about herself and her life. She took a long pause before deciding on screaming."

"A smart girl," Sebastian responded. I glared at him. "Oh shush, you're still the smartest girl I know. Don't be jealous of a nine-year-old." 

I sighed. 

"That is not what I meant!" I gritted through my teeth. "You're too excited to find a young female serial killer," I discerned. 

He nodded enthusiastically. "Ask Nash how prominent this find is!" Nash nodded in agreement. "Rarely do we get female serial killers. It is not that there are fewer female serial killers but that they go unnoticed and the police force is indoctrinated to think a female incapable of such a heinous crime." He clucked his tongue. "That is still findable, but young serial killers are harder to spot. Mostly, male serial killers experiment with animals and explore their fantasies. Female children rarely exhibit this. But when they do exhibit such tendencies, they don't go for animals... they go for humans." He raised his brow. 

"I understand all of this but we need to take into consideration how young this girl is and how we should approach her." I implored. 

"A checkup from social services, a police officer follows them and interviews the neighbors. We also need to bring on the child psychologist to talk to Carol and we shall have more answers." I nodded. 

"The psychiatrist would be good. I don't think any of us are trained to talking to Carol." I clucked my tongue. This was something I needed to explore. How was I supposed to hone this skill? 

The next morning, I filled out the form and Nash called the social service. I played the footage, emphasizing the portion that bothered me the most.

The middle-aged woman who had come looked sad beyond belief. "This is so sad. If she is committing crimes to compensate for the abuse she is suffering, it is the most unfortunate outcome." I could see her eyes redden as she dabbed at the corner. 

"Did you say anything to make her scream here?" She watched the footage of her scream quite a few times, frightening the officers a few times.

I shook my head, supplying all the answers politely. I knew by then that questions were part of the procedure and to make sure everything was well documented and public resources not misused. I would oblige with the procedure any day if it made my job easier. 

"Whatever I said is documented in the video," I announced. "If you look carefully, she pauses and thinks about what she will do next." I paused at the exact location and the silence on her part carried on for a while. "And here she starts screaming. You will see that she has finally decided." I played the next segment as well.

"Positively fascinating," the woman murmured. "I would love if you come with us," she said. 

"The mother doesn't want me anywhere near the girl. She was very nervous when she entered the station and equally enraged and terrified when Carol came out. I think she feared Carol would say something incriminating which would get the mother in trouble." 

"Guilty conscience, huh?" The woman took diligent notes and then took two police officers for the trip. "I'll inform you if I find anything." 

A few hours later, we received a callback. Apparently, they had hit a bullseyes. 

Bags upon bags of evidence came in and everyone gaped. It was rare for such vivid evidence to be found against any criminal, so when a diary was placed on the table in front of me, I twitched with delight. 

The face mask was on and I was leading every page. The actions Carol was asked to commit were very vile and sometimes sexual in nature. I read through how the elderly gentlemen would treat her when she ventured out of her room. What kind of acts those strange men would ask her to perform.

Carol had no idea exactly what she was doing but she was doing it unwillingly. 

Then came the magnificent admission of crime. "I end a life to return." Very ominous words. Pages upon pages showing the exact location of the body in the first and second crime scene and how she had murdered each boy. The details were so precise that no one who had not seen the scene themselves would be able to replay it so fully. 

"Here," Nash commented, pulling a page in front of my face. "She says that only by bullying girls who are older than her does she feel in control. That through controlling their actions she can finally feel powerful." 

I bit my lip. "Most children her age have no sense of right and wrong with demand to murder. But when you talk to her and read about how she writes about snuffing away someone's life, you will find that she is oddly prepared. She speaks about living in Hell but now that she was living in the one of her choosing." 

He clucked his tongue. 

"She's very civil," Sebastian peered from over her shoulder. "How did she kill the kids?" he asked. 

"She hadn't planned any of the kills, really. She found places that she could easily access but didn't try to conceal herself." I scrunched up my brow. "She saw that Patrick had a sore throat and lured him into the abandoned house in pretext of helping him cure the sore throat."

Sebastian nodded sagely. "He said that pressing her the neck down would cure Patrick's throat. So, she watched his life drain away from his body." 

How cruel. 

"This can only mean that she didn't do it as an experiment but with the controlled intent of killing Patrick." Nash looked like he had found a treasure.

"We need to bring her mother, Grace in. Also, the psychologist." Nash scrubbed his face. 

"We'll be slapping interested interviewers away with how much attention you will get. Evie, stay alert and see that no one escapes your eyes."

The woman from the social service spoke up, at last. "As I walked through the house, I saw equipment for violent sex acts scattered throughout the house. They had been recently used and some had been out in the open for a couple of days." She paused and gave them an intent look. "The little girl was no doubt exposed and probably made to watch her mother engage in violent sexual activities since a young age. I also found evidence that she was participating in them."

Unwillingly, of course. A child was unable to consent to such a horrible situation. 

"Whatever they used to physically beat her must have hurt but not left a mark for there is no sign of scar on her body." She looked enraged. 

"Ah, the body is a tricky thing. Even though there is no scar, the injury lurks under the flesh. It haunts those inflicted by it." I whispered. "And it turns you into a monster." Pain was a cruel feeling which turned the most rational person into a dehumanized lump of flesh.

"There is no doubt that this girl would turn to inflicting pain on others, it is just surprising how quickly she has started." There was silence in the room. 

"We will have to run some tests to understand her neurological and physical state or if it nurtures psychopathy. Also, the psychiatrist will have to take multiple sessions with her before we get an answer that we can present in court."

What a roundabout way of getting everything out. 

Two warrants were out: one against the name of Grace Myers for abuse and neglect of her daughter and the other asking Carol to be brought to the station for further investigation. 

The media was in a frenzy. One look at the blonde-haired angel and the ripples broke through the narrative. No one knew who called the media so early, but the feeding frenzy had begun. The world's fascination with serial killers was horrifying but most of all, this little child's privacy was at stake. 

No matter if she had killed someone. She deserved her dignity. Furthermore, she deserved some shred of control and love... something she had not received in a long time.