Mystery of The White Rose Serial Killer Read online

  MYSTERY OF

  THE WHITE

  ROSE SERIAL

  KILLER

  DARKNESS IS AN ELEMENT OF

  WEAKNESS, A WHITE ROSE: A SYMBOL

  OF DEATH

  Zalman S. Davis

  PO Box 221974 Anchorage, Alaska 99522-1974

  [email protected]— www.publicationconsultants.com

  ISBN 978-1-59433-727-7

  eBook ISBN 978-1-59433-728-4

  Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 2017948742

  Copyright 2017 Zalman Davis

  —First Edition—

  All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in any form, or by any mechanical or electronic means including photocopying or recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system, in whole or in part in any form, and in any case not without the written permission of the author and publisher.

  Manufactured in the United States of America.

  Dedication

  To Christelle, Hannetjie, and Franz

  For yesterday, today, and tomorrow.

  Table of Contents

  Acknowledgments

  Author’s Note

  Preface

  Chapter 1: The Crime Scene

  Chapter 2: She’s Dead

  Chapter 3: SAPD

  Chapter 4: The Walk Through

  Chapter 5: The Acquisition

  Chapter 6: The Interrogations

  Chapter 7: The Media Talk

  Chapter 8: The IP Address

  Chapter 9: AGH Building - 1001 De Waterkant Street

  Chapter 10: The Brown Paper Packet

  Chapter 11: Court And Pollsmoor

  Chapter 12: Durbanville

  Chapter 13: The Letter

  Chapter 14: The Newspaper Article

  Chapter 15: The Harvesting

  Chapter 16: The Ear

  Chapter 17: The .22 And the Transient Drifter

  Chapter 18: Kaboom!

  Chapter 19: The Mortuary Hut And The Arrest

  Chapter 20: Busted!

  Bibliography

  Acknowledgments

  Allow me to thank a few persons who either inspired, motivated or helped me in writing Mystery of the White Rose Serial Killer - which I started working on in September 2016 – and making it come to life. If it was not for these folks, you would not have been holding this novel in your hands. Franz Geldenhuys is a part of my life, my being. He read the first draft of Mystery of the White Rose Serial Killer and gave me a few ideas of how I could expand the story. Also thanks to his mother, Hannetjie, for encouraging me to finish this novel and actually getting it published. Last but not least, a big thanks to Christelle Wessels who gave my writing life when I started to write for the local newspaper where she is the editor. I really do appreciate it. And then there is Hennie Basson who helped me with information on how the prisons operate. He was a prison warden for somewhat years. I salute all of the above mentioned folks and send a huge thank you.

  Author’s Note

  I have come to realize that combining real people, names, places and real events in the society or country into a fiction novel is really tricky business. It is most definitely nowhere near a mere walk in the park. However, it is so worth the do.

  Mystery of the White Rose Serial Killer is a story based on the organ harvesting problems in South Africa and as well as Africa. It has a lot of real life information for example: how inmates operate in South African prisons and how corrupt the government actually is. I wanted this story to be based on the real life circumstances but still remain in every aspect, fiction. I’ve described a lot of places in the book for example: where Klapmuts, Brackenfell, Pollsmoor etc, is situated but please bear in mind that I have changed a few of the descriptions to the way I wanted it to be in the story.

  This is a novel, so any mistake I’ve made should be promptly classified as part of the fiction. I get carried away when describing things – it’s part of being the creative being.

  Preface

  For the most of us, we prefer to understand serial killers or mass murders only live in storybooks or in films, but they are around us every day. A serial killer or mass murderer could be an ordinary individual – a parent, the local dentist, a teacher.

  Unimagined horrors, unspeakable desires, human cruelty at its utmost best, stirs around within our brains. We, as mankind, are one funny species.

  Mass Murderers

  Since the start of history, mass murderers have existed throughout the world. They were the kings, queens and even princes. These type of people known as mass murderers would find ways or methods of torture and kill their victims in a bizarre inhumane manner. A mass murder is the act of murdering multiple victims, at the same time or in a short period. In the United States of America, the Federal Bureau of Investigations (FBI) defined a mass murder as the killing of four or more persons with no cooling off period in the time frame of the murders.

  Victims are randomly selected. The M.O. may differ from person to person or rather killer to killer.

  Serial Killers

  Definitions of serial murder specify a certain number of murders, varying from two to ten victims. It’s a lonely business, a sickness dreamed up in the deep thoughts of a damaged soul. This person operates alone and in the shadows. Sometimes they act as a team to share in their perversion.

  They also kill multiple victims either together or in a short period.

  Organ Harvesting

  Trading in organs occurs in three broad categories:

  -The scenario involves traffickers forcing or convincing their victims to give up their organs.

  -Also, victims agree to sell their organ (s) but get cheated by either getting paid to little or not at all.

  -Third, vulnerable persons - such as migrants, homeless or the illiterate - are treated for an ailment which may or may not exist and their organs are removed without their knowledge.

  Kidneys and livers are the highest organs in demand. Human kidneys can be sold on the black market for a huge amount of US $5000 (±R58 000) per kidney.

  In other manners, sangoma’s (witch doctors) buy organs from organ harvesters who murder their victims for the wanted organs. For an example: it is believed if you use severed hands as a muti (traditional African medicine) you will have wealth.

  Below are a list of spells that gets used by witch doctors and also a list of organs used for multiple purposes:

  Severed hands: Makes the owner wealthy.

  Breasts: A source of “mother luck,” which gets used in potions to bring good fortune.

  Genitals: Both genders are in demand. It is used for boosting virility in men and fertility in women.

  Adam’s apple: Silences a person – doesn’t allow you to speak.

  Skull: Enemy’s head - protects tribes.

  Eyes: Confers farsightedness.

  Tongue: Smooth the path to a girl’s heart for a lover.

  Body fat: Taken from the stomach as a source of a good harvest.

  Sperm and urine: A source of good luck.

  Atlas bone: Regarded as a powerful muti because the nerve system runs through it.

  Brains: Confers intelligence.

  Special Spells:

  Be My Valentine Spell: Helps to bring that special person closer to you.

  The Luck Spell: You can instantly change your luck.

  Master of White Magic: Once he makes the psychic connection with you, your life will never be the same.

  The Ramah Spell: If you have a pure heart, you could be blessed with riches.

  End Regret Spell: It’s time to put the past behind you and continue on with your life.

  Forgive Me: If
a past mistake is haunting you, preventing the two of you from reuniting, don’t give up.

  The Wealth Spell: Let the Wealth Spell position you to reap the financial as well as romantic windfalls you so deserve.

  Warlock Lover Spell: It is possible to win back your lover’s heart.

  Police Corruption in South Africa

  In 2013 the South African Police Services revealed that a “protracted” and “thorough” audit of the different police rank’s have found that 1,448 serving police officers were criminals – convicted criminals which is, up until this day, still being used to protect and serve our country.

  It is alleged that Lieutenant-General Nkrumah Mazibuko – the acting deputy national commissioner for human resource management – told South Africa’s parliament that it would take a year to clean out the police’s ranks. He had said that it would be done by June 2014, which up until present day, has not happened.

  The police minister, Nathi Nhleko allegedly said in response to the questions asked by the Democratic Alliance (DA) party, that all 1,448 police officers remain active on duty.

  Among these corrupt cops is 1 major-general, 10 brigadiers, 21 colonels, 10 majors, 43 lieutenant-colonels, 163 captains, 84 lieutenants and 716 warrant officers.

  It is believed that the audit looked as follows:

  •Cases where convictions led to sentences of less than three years in prison.

  •Convictions for “serious offences” like murder, attempted murder, rape, corruption and theft.

  Zalman S. Davis

  God created the world

  But it is the Devil who keeps it going.

  - TRISTAN BERNARD

  Chapter 1

  The Crime Scene

  05 August 2013, 18:32 p.m.

  “Mr. George Knox, I’m Detective Williams. I’m investigating the murder of your wife, Anna. I would like to ask you a few questions to get you off our list of possible suspects,” said Detective Williams, a tall man with short black hair dressed in a white shirt and black trousers.

  “Please, I will do anything to help you with the investigation,” George said with an exhausted voice. “To see my dead wife lying on the ground was mortified and very difficult to handle. She looked terrible, brutally abused and murdered. The once beautiful blonde hair, blue eyed woman with the big bright smile is now no more. She is gone.”

  “Sir, when was the last time you spoke to your wife?”

  “I called Anna at approximately 08:30 this morning. She said that she was about to leave for a palate class,” George said anxiously.

  “Would Anna have had any enemies that would’ve wanted to harm her in any way?” Detective Williams asked looking into George’s eyes.

  “Not that I’m aware of. Anna was loved throughout the entire community. Even at work. She was friends with everyone,” he said rolling his thumbs, staring at the detective scribbling down what he said in his tiny notebook.

  “What was your occupation, sir?” Detective Williams swiftly continues.

  Before George could answer, an old woman, tall and skinny with grey hair and pink lips approaches them.

  “She was a real estate agent down in Sea Point,” the old lady said, smiling at George.

  George was shocked to hear these details.

  “You must be Mr. Knox? Nice to meet you,” she said. George stood there staring at her, feeling intrusive.

  She saw that he was agitated and that he had moved further away from her. She walked closer and stuck her hand out for a hand shake. George took her hand in his and gently shook it followed by a nod and a purse of the lips.

  “I’m Sally Adams. I’m a psychiatrist. I know it is very difficult for you right now, so I’m here to help you,” she said looking at George, giving a polite smile.

  “Okay,” he said pursing his lips even tighter together.

  “We will have to walk through the house to find out what he remembers when he had left the house and when he had returned, Mr. Williams. This will help Mr. Knox remember of what they were doing and talking about. Memories brought back of what happened are always good for the victim’s loved ones. They tend to cherish the last moments together if it was positive.”

  George gently dropped his head staring at the ground.

  “Okay. But please just don’t touch anything. Forensics are still analysing the scene,” Detective Williams said.

  05 August, 14:00 p.m.

  It was a long day at work. George drove home to take a shower to get ready for their annual work meeting at seven o’ clock. His phone had been ringing nonstop. He did not answer as he was driving. George arrived home, parked the car and walked to the front door. He searched his trouser’s pockets for the door key, but realized he had forgotten it at work. He rang the doorbell hoping that Anna will be at home. Ring. Ring. Ring.

  “Cow!” he yelled out after standing outside for the last five minutes. Anna should’ve been home.

  After standing outside George had become very irritated and walked around to the back door hoping that it was unlocked. The domestic worker always leaves the back door unlocked when she clocks off. He walks to the door which is ajar. The domestic worker must still be here, George thought to himself before entering.

  “Lindiwe, I’m home. Are you here?” he calls out to her.

  He hurryingly goes to the kettle, fills it with water and puts it back on the nook. Grabs a cup from the cupboard, adds two teaspoons of sugar, one coffee and a tiny bit of milk. On his way to the bathroom George kicks off his shoes and starts to undress himself. Upon opening the shower tap, he calls out for Lindiwe.

  “Lindiwe, are you here?”.

  Without giving up, he calls out again.

  “Lindiwe!”

  But there is no response. The house is silent. In the distance the sound of gently flowing water is heard in the shower. The house is filled with tranquility. The silence started unnerving George. Anna should’ve been home already. Where would she be? he mumbled under his breath. He heads back to the kitchen, adds the boiling water to his cup and hurries to the bathroom. He places the cup on the basin stand and climbs in to the steamy shower. While showering, George recognizes a familiar ringtone. He tilts his head to listen carefully and turns the tap shut. The sound instantly becomes louder. It’s Anna’s phone! He quickly gets out the shower, grabs a towel from the rack and wraps it around his waist, making his way to where the phone is.

  “Anna? Anna, are you here? Where are you? Anna?” he calls out from the top of his lungs so wherever she might be she would be able to hear his plea. “Anna, your phone is ringing.”

  The sound was coming from the basement. Instantly he opens the door and searches for the light switch. George puts the light on and sees Anna hanging from a roof beam. He loses balance and stumbles down the stairs. As his eyes opened, he was shocked and started feeling dizzy. George’s stomach plunged to the floor. He grabbed a chair, the carpet cutting knife lying on the counter, and tried to cut Anna loose.

  “Anna! Anna!” he yelled out whilst bring her down to the floor.

  Her back was bruised. He took the hair out of her face wanting to give her CPR but her skull had been crushed from behind. Blood started gushing form the wound.

  George’s heart beat sky rocketed. Pains started to take over his chest. He could not believe that his beloved wife is dead. Why would she kill herself? I can’t believe I’m facing this devastating reality. It all feels unreal, he thinks to himself. Anna was still in her palate clothing – black tights and a blue sweat shirt. Her clothing was now drenched with blood. George lifts her sweat shirt up. Bruising was visible going all the way up to her side.

  What happened? Why on earth would Anna want to kill herself? Or did someone do this? Why! George sobbed in his hands.

  Chapter 2

  She’s Dead

  05 August, 15:05 p.m.

  Sitting beside Anna’s lifeless body with his head in his hands, George could barely breathe. He stood up and went to the bathroom in search of
Natura anxiety pills. The pains in his chest were worsening and it felt as if he was going to pass out. Seeing his wife dead is hard to digest. Seeing her lifeless body is devastating, heartbreaking.

  Why would she kill herself? George thought to himself time after time. Did she really kill herself or is it just a cover up to a horrifying homicide? Why is there bruising, why had her skull been crushed? He was searching for answers asking himself over and over again.

  He opens the little tub of tablets and pops five into his dry mouth. George reaches for the glass standing on the basin, fills it with water and swallows the tablets. His mind has now gone blank.

  He heads back upstairs to the master bedroom and plonks himself down on the bed with his head, once again, in his hands.

  I need to call the cops! I need to do something. Investigate? No, call the cops! Tell them what I saw? I can’t think straight. This is going to attract national media. I can’t have that. My career will be over, George sobs whilst yelling out loud. He shakes his head in despair. He has stopped thinking.

  I have to find out what had happened to Anna, he thinks. George hurries to the lounge with the glass of water and goes to sit by the telephone hooked on the wall near the TV.

  “Wendy, hi, have you seen Anna?” he asks as if nothing is wrong.

  “Hi, George, no, I have not seen her. I thought she was sick. She didn’t come to work today. Is something wrong?” Wendy asks worryingly.

  “No, nothing is wrong. I just thought that maybe someone had come over to visit her and they left for somewhere.”

  “Oh, no, I doubt it. Let me know when you find her, George. Bye now,” she says before hanging up.

  He hooks the phone back onto the wall and sighs.

  Huff, another sigh escapes his mouth after an exhausting act trying to find out what had happened. George walks down the stairs and heads for the back door. He goes outside into the backyard, places his feet on the soft green grass. I can’t think straight, he mumbles.