True Detectives

I drove Ms. Villareal and her baby to Malibu but instead of heading to Solar Canyon, I continued several miles north to Leo Carrillo State Beach, a place I'd enjoyed going as a child and as a teenager, walking alone among the trees when I was depressed, or hiding out among the trees while I used illicit drugs. My intention was to physically subdue Ms. Villareal before she met my mother, so that my mother would be able to assume the total control she requested. Because of that, I came prepared with a.38-caliber pistol and plastic handcuffs purchased over the Internet from a company called Submission.net.

I stopped the truck just outside the gates to the Leo Carrillo State Beach parking lot, a relatively open spot that seemed safe for what I was going to do because I believed this was going to be a brief process.

It was not.

Ms. Villareal grew extremely angry at my attempt to get her to leave the truck and walk with me to a dark, secluded spot. My intention at that point was to get her alone so I could cuff her hands. When she resisted, showed her my gun. I was surprised at her lack of concern for my gun and at her attempting to attack me physically.

It was that surprise that led me to panic and hit her in the back of her head with the gun and, then, to put my hands around her neck. My intention in doing so was only to subdue her but somehow I strangled her and she stopped breathing.

Once I saw what I had done, I panicked and put her back in my truck and drove her far from Malibu, to Griffith Park. I chose Griffith Park because it, too, represented a pleasant memory from my childhood, from when my parents and my siblings would take trips to the zoo and to the carousel and to the Gene Autry Museum where all sorts of entertainment industry and musical memorabilia are displayed.

I left Ms. Villareal's body in the Fern Dell area of Griffith Park and drove the baby back to my mother, who was waiting for me five miles up the road from the family residence. My mother was happy to see me and told me I'd done well. She said she was renaming the baby Adrael, apparently one of the names used by the Angel of Death. I say apparently, because I am not religious and have, in fact, grown to hate religion due to understanding my parents and their use of religion to corrupt themselves and others.

Though my mother describes Adrael as evil and a source of evil, she has cared for his physical needs ever since, including giving him a car-shaped bed outgrown by my youngest brother. However, I am concerned about what she might do to him eventually, and that fact has caused me great anxiety and increased my mental instability and illicit drug use.

For nearly a year and a half, Adella Villareal's death remained unsolved and I believed I'd gotten away with this crime and worked hard at forgetting what I did. Several months later, I was contacted by Raymond Wohr who began by asking why he hadn't heard from me in a while.

replied that I'd been busy. He then said, “Not too busy to take care of Adella and her kid, huh?” At that point I realized I had a problem and I went to my mother. After reviewing the facts, my mother said Mr. Wohr had nothing on me other than the fact that I'd picked up Ms. Villareal at the hotel My mother went on to say that Ms. Villareal was “just a skank-whore and those types get killed all the time,” and that Mr. Wohr was “just a skank-pimp. Try paying him off and if that doesn't work, we'll find a solution.”

I arranged to pay Mr. Wohr a lump sum of five thousand dollars in exchange for his silence. I also agreed to resume employing the services of professional prostitutes arranged by Mr. Wohr, most frequently Alicia Eiger, and to pay double for those services.

This arrangement seemed to be working until three days ago when Raymond Wohr phoned me, saying Alicia Eiger was frustrated at not getting more money from me and was threatening to go public about her suspicions regarding Adella Villareal's murder. Mr. Wohr also said that baby-killing would be seen as a terrible crime. Even though he, personally couldn't “give a shit about any rugrat.”

I told Mr. Wohr that he needed to keep Ms. Eiger calm. He replied that he couldn't, she was “nuts, totally whack,” to the point of screaming at him and hitting him in the face, in broad daylight on their street of residence, Taft Avenue.

At that point, I phoned Alicia Eiger and informed her that Raymond Wohr had told me of her frustration and that I wanted to make everything good. As such, I'd be coming by with another two thousand dollars in cash. She said two wasn't enough, she wanted ten. We negotiated and agreed on seven thousand five hundred dollars. I set up an appointment that day to deliver the money, stopping along the way at the Bed Bath & Beyond at the Beverly Center and purchasing a medium-sized kitchen knife I could conceal in a jacket pocket.

I drove to Hollywood and parked several blocks from Alicia Eiger's apartment on Taft. Alicia Eiger welcomed me into her apartment. She looked confident. We made small talk for a while, then she demanded the money. I said sure, reached into my pocket, spun her around and overpowered her and stabbed her repeatedly in the back. I chose the back because I did not want to see her face while I ended her life. Contrary to what others may think, I am not a monster, nor am I a sadist who enjoys seeing people suffer or die.

I am the victim of years of physical and emotional neglect and abuse but I know that I have taken lives and must pay for that. My hope is that receive the proper care so that my personality flaws mend and I can learn to become a productive member of society.

Sincerely

Ahab P. Dement

Ax cleared his throat and put the papers down.

Charles Toothy said, “That's pretty comprehensive, can't imagine there'd be too many questions.”

Moe said, “When your father returned home, how'd he react to the baby being there?”

Ax said, “I can't answer that from personal observation as I was living elsewhere. What my mother told me is that he was shocked. Her exact words were something like ‘Daddy just about shit solid gold adobes.’ She swears when she's drunk and mostly she's drunk when she calls me.”

“She called you to report on your father's return.”

“Yes, sir.”

“He was shocked.”

“He demanded to know how the baby had gotten there. My mother told me she didn't come right out and say but she did imply that we'd never be seeing Adella again and that if my father made a fuss, the entire family could end up in jail. Or worse, in hell.”

“And…”

“And nothing.”

“Your father just went along with it.”

“He did.”

“He didn't try to beat her up?”

“That was before,” said Ax. “Before she got a gun. The last time he beat her up, my mother bought a gun and it stopped.”

“He'd stopped beating her completely.”

“Yes, sir.”

“For how long?”

“Hmm… maybe a year. But…”

“But what?”

“She squeezes her own arm, sir. To bring up bruises. I don't know why, it's just something she does.”

“I see,” said Moe.

“I don't see,” said Ax. “Maybe where you'll send me, I'll get some insight.”

“How about giving me some insight about Caitlin Frostig.”

“Who?”

Moe repeated the name.

Ax Dement said, “Nope, never heard of her. Wish I did.”

“Why?”

“I want to change. Being helpful is part of that.”