- Home
- Patrick Laughy
Kenny the Making of a Serial Killer 1 Page 7
Kenny the Making of a Serial Killer 1 Read online
Page 7
December of ninety-one was the first Christmas that Kenny never received any gifts. The celebration was ignored completely; they didn’t even have a tree.
It occurred to Kenny then that there really wasn’t much reason for him to remain in the house and he figured that at twelve years old, he might just be old enough to make it on his own. He told himself that if things didn’t begin to improve in the next few months, he might run away and take his chances out on his own. What the hell, cutting out had to be a better deal than the status quo.
Accomplishing that would take some careful planning and preparation on his part to pull off, and it would take time.
He would need a bunch of money. Enough to hold him over until he found some way to make some cash on his own. He would also have to figure out where to go, someplace where Bob couldn’t find him, because he knew only too well that the twisted, drunken bastard would come looking for him.
When he was out in the bush working, he kept an eye out for anything he could find and began to set snares for rabbits and other small animals he could catch. The first thing he now did each morning when he arrived, was to check the snares. If he had been lucky enough to catch something overnight, he’d enthusiastically kill it very slowly, savour watching it die, and then happily dissect it with his sharp penknife, before disposing of it.
Those days were the best days for him.
Four months had passed since Kenny’s last kill and mutilation. He was beginning to feel an overpowering compulsion to do it again.
Granny was now spending most of her days in bed. She’d been recently diagnosed by her doctor with something called ‘multiple myeloma’ and seemed to be in a very bad way. She’d gone for several treatments and Kenny had overheard something about a remission, which was apparently likely to be temporary at best.
Kenny wasn’t much bothered by that. It meant that he no longer had to do the homeschooling thing and he sure as hell didn’t miss that. Bob didn’t seem to give a damn about his not taking his lessons and that was just fine with Kenny.
Kenny was curious about a couple of things though. He’d never given any consideration to the fact that Granny might die. But, it seemed to him that that was likely now. If she did die, he’d be left on his own with Bob and that was a very chilling thought. Kenny decided that he needed to find out more about this ‘multiple myeloma’ stuff, but he wasn’t sure how to do that.
He sure as hell wasn’t going to ask Bob, and Granny was being medicated and was kind of unresponsive these days, so he couldn’t very well ask her.
Eventually he decided that he might try and see if he could look it up on the computer that Bob had bought for the business.
Bob used the machine almost daily, but only in the mornings, and then only after his hangover from the night before had begun to wear off. Kenny had no idea of how the thing worked, but he soon figured a way around that obstacle.
The computer was set up in a small alcove next to the kitchen, on a desk that overlooked the expanse of water beyond and below the house.
For over a week Kenny passed up working in the bush for as long as he could. Instead he would get things done as quickly as he could and then drive back down the driveway toward the house for about a half mile and then park the little Ford and make his way on foot back to the house. He’d then enter quietly and wait until Bob sat down to use the computer. Then, ensconced safely in the recesses of the darkened room directly across the hall from the small office, he used binoculars to watch what the bastard was doing at the keyboard.
It took him while, but eventually he found an angle where he could see both the keyboard and the screen.
He concentrated on the start up procedure first and picked that up quickly. Early on, the stuff on the screen didn’t interest him much, business stuff he figured. But on the second day of his spying Bob eventually shifted from doing the business stuff and the content showing up on the screen changed.
Kenny couldn’t believe his eyes. Thanks to Bob’s nocturnal visit to his bedroom, the content of the pictures that were scrolling across the screen was not particularly shocking to Kenny, but the fact that that kind of thing could be available on the machine certainly was.
After a week of watching the goings on in the small office, Kenny waited until Bob had gone out for his usual pub visit late one afternoon and then he went into the office and sat down at the computer. As usual, Bob had left the thing on and all he had to do was press the space bar to bring the screen to life.
Kenny learned all about Multiple Myeloma, although it had taken him a fair amount of time to figure out how to spell it right. From what he read, it was obvious that Granny was not likely to be around much longer. She was going to die soon.
A scary thought…just him and Bob in the house.
This changed things for sure. Bob was going to have to die before Granny did.
Kenny managed to find the place were Bob was getting the kiddie porn he liked to watch, and he spent an hour having a look at what was available.
It was very appealing to him and he masturbated a couple of times before he’d finished watching.
That night in bed Kenny concentrated on what he had now coined as ‘the Bob problem’.
Later in that week Bob had inadvertently left the machine open on a sadomasochistic kiddie gay porn site. Kenny found this new theme extremely stimulating. He’d masturbated repeatedly, until he could no longer do it.
Then he noticed the favorites list at the top of the screen and began to explore. Before long he was into sites that covered the same kind of material but also depicted dominance and even snuff portrayals. He found these wildly stimulating and started adding them to his own private fantasy world, fleshing it out with glee.
He’d struck a gold mine, and things were looking up in his little private world. By comparison, video games were bland now. Kenny decided that he was going to be spending a lot of time sitting in front of the computer in the future.
Gone was any thought of taking off and trying to make it on his own.
The computer was in the house and he wasn’t leaving it for anything.
There were a least a few reasons for him to stay now, but the computer was the most important one for him.
Bob was the one who was going to leave, and that needed to happen very soon.
He set up a new schedule for himself. He started to spend his days out in the bush, avoiding Bob, and doing whatever happened to be in the snares, then as soon as he heard Bob drive out on his pub date Kenny would close everything down and go back to the house, quietly go inside and close the office door behind him, before he fired up the computer.
Eyes glued to the screen, he would masturbate repeatedly, for as long as he could keep it up. He found this new activity so enjoyable, that he sometimes even forgot to break for dinner.
Things were going so well for Dave and Linda, they decided to take ten days off over Christmas, for a much-needed break. Linda, determined to get them some quality one-on-one time together, booked them an all-inclusive Hawaiian five-star hotel for the trip.
A less than enthusiastic Murphy, who had by this point settled in nicely and had been nicknamed ‘His Majesty’ and pretty much ruled the roost, found himself having to indoctrinate Dave’s parents in the proper procedures required for his care, for the entire ten-day stretch.
Leaving from Vancouver International during a light snow storm and landing on the big island of Hawaii to experience waves of heat radiating up off the runway and humidity you could taste, boded well for the trip, and it only got better after that.
It was the first trip to Hawaii for both. The duo spent every second of the trip together. They had no itinerary and took each day as it came, doing everything that appealed. They did a lot of the usual tourist stuff, a luau, peering into volcanoes, scuba diving and snorkeling, visiting the Mauna Kea Summit, visiting a tropical botanical garden, hiking, a boat tour, museums, even a helicopter tour.
The rest of their time was s
pent within the confines of the hotel itself, mostly tanning, swimming, reading and sampling what the five restaurants had on offer.
They didn’t get a great deal of sleep, but then they were in love, and didn’t really seem to be suffering from the loss.
CHAPTER NINE
- April 1992 -
The dilemma of how to get rid of Bob was solved for Kenny mid-month.
By then, Kenny never went to sleep at night before he heard the garage door opening for Bob’s truck, and the usual stumbling and bumbling along the hallway that followed his entry as he drunkenly made his way down the hall and into his own room.
Kenny would lie breathlessly listening for signs of whether Bob would take a bath in preparation for a visit to Kenny’s room, or flop onto the bed fully clothed in a semi-comatose state. If it was the latter, Kenny could relax in the blissful knowledge that he wasn’t going to be targeted that night. If not, he would begin the process of leaving the real world and closing his mind against what was to come.
On this night, Kenny heard the garage door go up as expected, but then nothing but silence.
Kenny waited for a good half hour for the bastard to come into the house, but he didn’t.
Finally, he got out of bed, slipped into his jeans, grabbed the flashlight off his bedside table and quietly made his way though the house to the door that led out into the attached garage.
The small overhead light that automatically came on to illuminate the room for a short while when the door went up, had gone off. The big overhead door had settled back down and was closed.
The garage was in complete darkness.
As Kenny’s eyes adjusted to the images in the dark interior he eventually made out the pickup sitting in the center of the garage. Intrigued, he slowly made his way over to the driver’s door of the vehicle and looked inside. It took a second before he could make out the outline of a figure slumped down across the seat.
Bob was flopped over onto his right side and appeared to have passed out.
Kenny hesitatingly eased the driver’s door open. The interior dome light came on, leaving Kenny shitting bricks, but Bob didn’t so much as blink.
Kenny froze for a few seconds, convinced that the bastard would wake up. But he didn’t.
He was obviously completely pissed. He was snoring loudly, out of it.
Kenny shifted his gaze to glance over at the gas gauge. It registered three- quarters full.
Kenny smiled and his stiff shoulders visibly relaxed.
What the hell, it’s worth a try. He had nothing to lose and everything to gain.
He checked to confirm the truck was in park, then reached gingerly into the cab, grasped the ignition key, and holding his breath, turned it to the start position.
When the truck rumbled to life, the loud sound of the engine engaging echoed within the confined space and scared the living-bejesus out of Kenny.
It seemed loud enough to wake the dead, but even that wasn’t enough to wake Bob. He didn’t so much as move a muscle.
Kenny’s smile broadened considerably as he carefully lowered the driver’s window, using his knuckle on the button, and oh so gently, pushed the door of the truck closed.
The small garage wouldn’t take long to fill up with the V8’s idling exhaust.
Kenny turned, walked back to the door leading to the house, and opened it.
Standing in the doorway, silhouetted by the soft glow of a nightlight further down the hallway behind him, he gave the truck one more glance and couldn’t hold back a soft chuckle.
Happy, he stepped backward into the hall with a satisfying sense of a job well done, then gently pulled the door closed behind him.
His first real kill!
Kenny whistled softly as he headed back to his room, all the while nurturing a picture of the idling truck in his mind.
Sweet dreams you twisted son of a bitch. God, I’m going to sleep well tonight!
And he did - for the first time he could ever remember.
Kenny didn’t get out of bed until nine thirty the next morning.
Bob usually took Granny something to eat in in the mornings, so Kenny figured she’d be wondering where he was.
After he’d showered and made himself some breakfast, he made her a cup of tea, then went in to see her. She was sitting up in bed. After he’d given her the tea, he told her that Bob wasn’t around. Granny hadn’t taken her morning medicine yet, and she was still with it enough to carry on a reasonable conversation.
She seemed surprised and he told her he was going to go and see if Bob’s truck was in the garage, suggesting that perhaps he was outside doing something.
Kenny had very carefully planned exactly how he was going to handle the morning. So far, everything was going exactly as he’d figured it would.
He headed out to the garage and the second he opened the door the smell of carbon monoxide hit him. The truck was still running. The truck was still running, Christ, he hadn’t expected that.
Kenny reached around and hit the switch to open the overhead door, then closed the entry door and went back down the hall and then out onto the porch to cross over toward the garage.
He stood a few feet back from the open door, waiting for the noxious gas to clear enough for him to be able to breath safely, and then went inside.
He didn’t touch anything, just peered in through the open window. He spent a good five minutes relishing the sight inside, then turned and walked back to Granny’s room to give her the news.
Granny made the call and Kenny went back outside to wait for the emergency people. He knew he shouldn’t, but he risked going back inside for another look at his handiwork several times anyway.
What a glorious sight!
Then they arrived.
A cop car and an ambulance.
A lot of good that ambulance was going to be.
Kenny put on his best sad face and sat down on the porch steps where he could watch and enjoy all the proceedings. He was disappointed when they brought Bob out on the stretcher and put him in the back of the ambulance. They’d put him in a plastic bag. Kenny would have liked to have had one final look at him.
The cop, an older guy, asked him a few questions, the answers to which he’d rehearsed carefully the night before, and when he’d finished he was certain that he’d done a good job.
‘Yes, Bob went to the pub most nights and got home late. He and Granny went to bed as usual, and when Bob wasn’t around in the morning, Granny had asked him to check to see if the truck was in the garage. He had, then he told Granny what he’d found and she had phoned for help.’
Things proceeded smoothly after that. Surprisingly, Granny rallied quite a bit. She seemed almost as relieved by Bob’s death as Kenny was.
She was still weak and sickly, but she managed to get herself dressed and relatively mobile quickly.
Kenny stayed in the background while the old woman worked the phone.
Two hours later a permanent live-in nurse and a housekeeper had arrived to look after his and Granny’s needs. She’d also arranged for him to have private tutoring five days a week.
An hour after that a representative of the law firm Granny used was sitting down with the two of them.
Kenny didn’t say anything during the discussions that took place, but he listened to what was going on.
It was during that conversation between Granny and the lawyer that Kenny found out that Bob had managed to wrangle himself into the old woman’s will and would have been the one who looked after Kenny and held the purse strings if she’d died before him.
Kenny was very pleased that he’d acted when he did.
The very thought of having to kowtow to that dirty old son-of-a-bitch until he was old enough to be on his own, was chilling.
From Kenny’s perspective, except for the tutor, which he figured he could live with, things were looking up.
Linda finished her Master’s and had been promoted to a supervisory position. That accomplished, she
’d then requested and been assigned to work the day shift, securing a permanent Monday to Friday spot, at Covenant House in Vancouver.
Covenant House, a provincial office situated in Vancouver that responded, on an ongoing basis to the needs of street kids, runaways and so-called ‘elopees’ from the various juvenile detention centers was located on Granville street in the center of downtown. Linda felt that the services provided by the office were fulfilling a need, and she considered the posting to be both challenging and rewarding.
She was also very much looking forward to finally having weekends off.
Dave had been reassigned to Major Crime shortly after he’d returned from the Quantico course. The Chief had then asked him to take on the task of creating procedural manuals, setting the departmental standard policy on both profilers and on future ‘Serial Killer’ task force operations. He was to be under no specific time restraint as to how long it took to get the two manuals completed.
Dave undertook the challenge with enthusiasm.
He was given a small office space in Major Crime and was told he could set his own hours. He’d chosen to work days, Monday to Friday, with weekends off.
Murphy, who had taken to terrorizing the available female cats in the neighbourhood on every opportunity, experienced his first visit to the vet for a clip job and for several days after that he was quite grouchy.
That eventually passed and shortly thereafter, the three of them settled into a comfortable weekly routine.
The half-acre lot they’d purchased was a part of the development of what had originally been a large orchard. On their property, there were several fruit trees which ran in neat rows behind the house.
They redecorated the place and decided to put in a vegetable garden at the very back of their land. They were planning what they would plant for the approaching growing season.
By this point, they had also discovered that there were good neighbours living on each side of them.
To the west was a nice Danish couple, a little older than they, who had two boys. The wife was a stay at home mother and Linda had worked out a deal with her to do light housekeeping for her and Dave once a week.