Dear Detective Lovett

Raiford prison
February 24, 2009

Dear Detective Lovett,

You said to write someday. Well, here’s my letter. I will tell you what you want to know. The details more or less. You might be pleased to know I have the big C. That’s part of the reason I’m writing to you. What do I have to lose, eh?

Brenda Mock rarely closed some of her curtains. That’s why I started looking in her windows. In the beginning I was passing by on foot, going somewhere. I don’t remember where exactly but I saw inside the house. So I’d go by every few nights to look again and see what was up. Sometimes I’d see her wearing very little or nothing. More than one night she had just come out of the bathroom. She was wearing only a big towel those times. She was a pretty thing, blond and all, and I’d get more and more excited. More than once I had to jerk off before leaving the property. Nobody could see me easily for it was dark and there were many bushes.

How was I going to get into the house, I wondered? I had to either break in or get her to open the door. I could’ve broke the chain on the door easily but I didn’t want the entry to be forced. I thought of a pizza delivery by mistake. A telegram. Some flowers. Anything to get her to open that door. Then I recognized my opportunity.

I saw that she came outside every Friday night to hang clothes on a line that was in the carport. I learned she had a maid arrive every Saturday, so she needed the clothes washed and ready to iron. I’d have to sneak in while she was hanging up the clothes or pull a gun or knife on her and order her inside. The gun or knife seemed easier cause she moved and turned too much to sneak in I thought.

I decided on the gun. The knife was too risky. Maybe less frightening? I don’t know. Anyway, with the gun it worked. She went inside as I told her. In fact, she was a smart one. Foxy I’d say. Made out she didn’t mind what we were going to do. I acted like I was going to let her live after we finished doing it. I think it made her feel better.

I couldn’t of course. I hadn’t let any of them live so far, so why Brenda? I didn’t want any shots to be heard so I beat her about the head with the pistol as you well know. She didn’t see the first blow for she’d turned away from me. I forget why. I was pretty sure she was dead but since she had some sizable carving knives in the kitchen, I gave it to her a few times in the chest with one of them. Heart and lungs. I wanted to be sure you know. I cleaned up a bit then left her there in that pool of blood. But you know the technical part.

She said something before she died. While I was beating her. She said “Jesus bless us.” At first I didn’t notice, but I couldn’t forget it. Later I realized she’d said “us”. Actually it was very kind of her, don’t you think? Today I know the importance of Jesus Christ. I’ve been redeemed, Detective. You can believe it or not.

There, you have the details. Let me know if you have any questions about anything else. Don’t wait too long if you do. (lol)

I want you to know that Mr. Larry Waters helped clean up my grammar. He’s two cells down from me. He was a schoolteacher on the outside. Taught science. I thought it was nice of him to help. I hope you agree. Then I wrote the letter again.

Sincerely yours,

Butch O’Malley