Chapter 62: TOO MANY ACCOMPLICES

I put my trust and faith in the counsel of the Impure Water Girl.

‘What do I do about Elaine?”

I silently prayed for the answer. Then left. Went for a long windy walk along the cliffs, struggling with my anger and hate, imagining my elation, how good it would feel to pitch Elaine to the rocks and angry breakers below. I have lifelong commitments to many adored people and can’t afford to allow myself the satisfaction of flying off the handle. My children and my wives will be abandoned the same if the state takes me away as if I just fled from my responsibilities. I must guard, protect, and provide for them. I would never flee from them and I must not allow the state to remove me either.

In the BVI, the death penalty is mandatory for convicted first-degree murder and they hang you. Only Queen Elizabeth herself can grant clemency and save your neck, and she doesn’t do that, except for once, she pardoned a murderer who helped foil a terrorist attack. I don’t think asking for the monarch’s clemency is likely to invoke her sympathy.

Suggestion? Don’t get convicted of murder in the BVI. Well then, my desire to fling Elaine from these cliffs, as attractive as the option seems, is no option, and the desire must be subjugated and squelched. The body might be recovered and that would be unfortunate for me.

It’s always a good idea, in point of the murderers’ defense, that the murderer’s victim’s bodies never be found. First, you have to prove they’re dead before you prove they were murdered, and then convict the murderer if you can manage the following. Identify, discover, find, capture, positively identify with eyewitnesses, DNA, or fingerprints, and build a case. Without the corpse, it’s hard to even get the ball rolling. Who was convicted for Jimmy Hoffa’s murder? Nobody. Does the FBI get credit for effort?

“The Irishman” Frank Sheeran, was a teamster hit-man. “The Irishman” was suspected of many murders but never convicted of any. Shortly before his death at age 83, in 2003, he confessed to killing Hoffa in a house in Detroit. Blood samples were retrieved from the house floorboards. The FBI, anxious to “solve” the case once and for all, tried to back his story, repeatedly sought to prove he did it, but the only conclusion possible is he lied. Why? For what gain? Posthumous fame? As Hoffa’s murderer, he hopes to dine on better slops with Hotel Hell’s scummiest condemned elite? The DNA of the bloodstains from the house, the house Sheeran claimed was where he shot Hoffa, ain’t Hoffa’s DNA. After testing by the FBI many times, still ain’t Hoffa’s DNA. Sheeran’s posthumous infamy may be more despicable than he wished. An opportunistic self-promoting lying loser wannabe? Who cares what happened to Hoffa fifty years ago? Not going to find his body now.

Whatever becomes of Elaine, a corpse must never come to light! Two options. Allow her to continue molesting Hermione undeterred?

Nix that! A final option, she disappears. Alive or dead, she goes Poof! Becomes MYSTERY! The details are still a little fuzzy to me.

I’ll hang back from actually murdering her, I’ll just make her wish she were dead! I think I know how to accomplish that.

I’m definitely not sane. I’m qualified to self-diagnose that because a diagnosis I’m actually sane isn’t possible. It’s like DNA. You can always be certain of accurate analysis when it determines it does NOT match someone. Sane doesn’t match what’s going on in my brain! I’m unsure, not sane and insane are synonymous, so I offer, for you to judge, my thought process behind my un-sane ideas.

Separated and part from me, while she was in Florida, Sin wished to surprise and please me. Having heard of my attraction to the Impure Water Girl, she asked Lilli for photos of the statue, particularly of the face from multiple angles. Lilli helped and sent them. A flexible 3D printer mask was created. Sin wore it for me once, and I forbade her from ever wearing it again. It affected me too much. Startled me. Almost came in my pants!

Plastic surgery. Criminals have dreamed of changing their faces and fingerprints to enable assuming new identities. Some faked their own death by planting their own identification on a substitute corpse. Forensic science is too advanced for simple trickery to work today. No, I’d say, it still works in some situations. Prosthetic makeup works in films. It’s glued on plastic appliances, not plastic surgery, but it apparently convinces audiences.

A waste of good pussy goes against my principles. What principles I do retain are resolute. Elaine has some extraordinary fine pussy I’d hate to waste. DNA tests WILL be performed to determine if she is Hermione’s mother or not. Transforming her into a more tolerable mother for Hermione is preferable to killing her but she’s too obstinate, too evil, she won’t ever change. Removal from Hermione’s environment, kept out of her presence and not permitted interaction with her, is the required solution. My judgment and I intend on being the judge.

It seems particularly ironic and appropriate I should use drugs on Elaine since she is such an avid herbalist and potions witch. Datura, the zombie cucumber in conjunction with Rohypnol, roofies, the date rape drug, should keep her docile. Her own aphrodisiac potions will more than sufficiently arouse her sexually. Keep her juicy.

Elaine will simply disappear into a hidden part of the estate. Where the tunnel terminates at the site Elaine wanted to build on, I’m having a warehouse building with loading docks erected. Its practical function is shipping and receiving for the water bottling operation directly in its rear. In the basement will be a special secret dungeon designed for Elaine. Secure confinement, drugs in her food, and forcing her to wear the glued-on Impure Water Girl appliance mask, will be my revenge. I’ll enjoy her predicament. Getting an erection just thinking about it! And an uncontrollable laughing fit making my sides ache!

Again I trust my faith in the wise counsel of the Impure Water Girl.

As I assured you before, I’m not hearing voices, I just wake up with new knowledge I didn’t possess when I went to sleep. Don’t act surprised. You know the oracle quality of dreams is well documented throughout history. Do people still suggest “Let’s sleep on it tonight and decide in the morning.” or I’ll have to sleep on that” when faced with tough decisions? They frequently used to, during my lifetime.

“I need one reliable, trustworthy accomplice.”

Prayed for one. I trust all my women and they trust me, but what they trust me to be is loving, fair, and gentle. Every time they’ve caught a glimpse of my sterner side, they’ve reacted negatively. None would I choose to assist me in Elaine’s disappearance. Her maintenance as a prisoner I dare trust to nobody but myself. I have to tend her alone. A secret known by more than one is no secret.

Elaine is busy constructing her series of wall apartments. My warehouse project is keeping pace. They should finish at the same time. When Elaine is ready and begins her move into her apartment on the wall, that’s when something mysterious will happen by sleight of hand. It’s best Elaine is observed and officially recorded leaving the island of her own will. A smoke and mirrors body double switch performed so well no one believes she disappeared from this estate.

This legerdemain requires an accomplice. Someone who can and wants to pass as Elaine, and will remain silent about it afterward.