Delaney Street Murders

“ACHHHOO,” Nina sneezed loudly the second she walked into her parents attic and dust flew off of the piles of old cardboard boxes and into her professionally highlighted blond hair. 

“Jeez mom, cant you just throw out this stuff?” Nina said but immediately regretted it when her mom’s eyes began to well up with tears.

“I just mean it could take ages to go through it and I’m only one person…” 

The attic looked menacing, the heaps and heaps of boxes daring her to make up any excuse to leave and let them sit forever under the cold leaking roof. 

“This stuff is -- was important to your father I just cant get rid of it, Nina! And anyway, I asked Peter to come over and help.”

“Peter…” Nina groaned, “Can’t he get out of my life all ready?”

Peter was a writer who had an agent at the same PR firm where Nina worked but he was also an old friend of the family and for whatever reason he took every opportunity to pop into Nina’s office and tease her about something, her outfit, her hair, her taste in TV shows.  Most girls’ fell for him immediately because he was incredibly handsome if you like that sweat pants wearing no money type, which Nina definitely did not.

“Be nice!” Nina’s mother scolded when the doorbell rang.

Nina rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath as she began opening boxes and rummaging through piles of her dead fathers’ belongings.

“Hello, princess,” Peter said, a big smirk spreading across his chiseled face lighting up his bright blue eyes.

“Hello, jerk,” Nina replied.  Peter playfully watched her work for a couple minutes before Nina angrily told him to, “help or get out,” and for the next half hour he diligently worked sorting through the boxes.

“Hey look Nina, I found the family albums! HAHA is that you? How could you be so bald, you must be what?  Four years old in this picture?” Peter laughed as he flipped through the pages.

 Nina snatched the album box from him, her big hazel eyes squinting into a glare.  She took the albums out of the box and placed them out of Peter’s reach.  Peter dug into the box to uncover more embarrassing photos but instead he pulled out some old newspapers rapped in plastic, like they were saved on purpose.

“Whoa,” Peter said as he read through one, “Did you know that abandoned house on Delaney Street used to be an orphanage?”

“No,” Nina said without the slightest hint of interest in her tone.

“Jesus, no wonder that place is so creepy! Look!”

Peter shoved the newspaper at Nina and she gasped when she glanced down and saw pictures of a dozen brutally murdered people spread across the page.

“Oh my gosh!  Who were they?  Who killed them?” Nina asked.

“It says they were the caregivers for the orphans and the murderer… was never found.  Why would your dad have this? Kind of a creepy thing to save since -- when did this come out? – 1950…”

“I don’t know, and my dad was not creepy Peter, God!  I mean, I know his parents died when he was young and he was adopted but he never spoke of an orphanage before…”

“Hmmm… The memory was probably too painful I mean damn look at the pictures!  It says that most of their skin was scrubbed off, that’s disgusting!”  Peter said, obviously intrigued.

“Well I’m glad you’re so interested in my dead fathers disturbed past, but can we get back to sorting?  I have a life, you know, unlike you!” Nina said annoyed that Peter was making this take even longer than it should.

     Nina rushed into work the next day.  She was late for a meeting with a prima Donna aspiring actress who treated her like shit.  But it was her job to suck up to the stars, it was how she could afford her addiction to expensive shoes, and she had to admit, there were days when she loved it.  Today was not one of those days.  She practically ran into her office just to see a note from her secretary saying that the meeting was canceled due to the actress’s impromptu nose job.  She sat at her desk and noticed a package sitting in the middle of it.  She opened it and found herself staring at a brown folder.  Inside it was a letter from the bank that said it was the contents of her father’s safety deposit box and it was meant to be given to her in the event of his death.  Nina looked at the folder for a couple minutes confused, debating what it could be before she finally opened it.  Inside was a bundle of old letters and a photograph.  She inspected the photograph first.  It was her father as a boy standing with another boy; the expressions on their faces were sad and lonely with hurt in their young eyes.  On the back it said, “ Me and my brother Ralph, Delaney street orphanage, 1939.”  She looked at the letters, the pages were brown and crisp and she couldn’t help but feel goose bumps crawl up her arms as she began to read. 

Peter had just finished a meeting with his agent and stopped by Nina’s office for his usual purpose: to annoy her.

“Whoa,” Peter said with mock surprise, “Are you reading?!”

Then he saw the expression on her face and sat down at her desk, concerned. 

“ What’s going on?” he asked.

“This was just delivered to me from my fathers safety deposit box,” Nina answered, gesturing to the letters, “ these children at the orphanage… they were abused.”

“At the orphanage? You mean the one from the papers?  What does it say?”

Nina took a deep breath and then repeated a line from one of the letters, word for word, “ It’s so much worse here now that you’re gone.  They beat us and whip us with their belts.  The older boys are brought to the headmaster every night and the screaming is impossible to block out.”  She stopped there, horrified by her own words and passed the letters to Peter to read for himself.  He read through the terrible stories of the abuse that took place at the Delaney Orphanage.

“These are signed by Ralph, who is that?” Peter asked.

Nina’s face turned a pasty white as she answered, “My uncle.  The boy from this picture.” She passed Peter the photo.

“But in this last letter he says ‘I’m fine now, I’ve fixed it they will never harm us again. I’m coming to be with you in Chicago.’ What changed?”

Nina looked at him with her big scared eyes and said, “He killed them.  The caregivers in the paper were murdered… by Ralph.”

They both sat for a few minutes, silent, thinking about Nina’s deduction.

“Did you ever know about Ralph?”  Peter said, finally breaking the silence.

“No, he must never have made it to Chicago because Dad never mentioned him before.  But don’t you think he killed them?  It totally makes sense.”

“He may have, but it seems like they deserved it.  All the terrible things they did to those kids, honestly I don’t blame him for killing them if he did.”

“Gosh, I guess we’ll never know but it seriously gives me the creeps.”

“Why do you think your dad had that sent to you?” Peter asked.

“I don’t know.  Maybe he just didn’t want to freak out Mom.  Or maybe he wanted me to figure something out…”

“Well, it definitely creeped me out.”  Peter got up to go but hesitated at the door, “If you have nightmares tonight you know you’re always welcome to come sleep in my bed.”

Nina threw a magazine at him but he dodged it and smiled at her before sauntering out the door.  Nina couldn’t help smiling to herself.  ‘He’s got some nerve that boy’, she thought.  Nina went out after work to distract herself from everything she had just learned.  It was surprisingly easy for her to forget about the letters, especially when all she could think about was Peter.

Nina woke up the next morning with a slight hangover but happy it was Saturday.  She had gone out the night before to a new club in Hollywood and perhaps had a bit too many.  It was in her job description to go out and meet the celebs at the newest clubs, it wasn’t her fault that the hottest clubs made the best tasting Bellinis.  She went through her usual morning routine, making the coffee and flipping on the television usually to Good Morning America or MTV, but today she decided on the news.  She was pouring the coffee grinds into the filter, her back turned to the television when she heard the news reporter talking about the murders.

“Two bodies were found last night in an abandoned farm house in Champagne, Illinois.  Their skin appeared to be scrubbed off…”

Nina whipped around her heart pumping at an abnormal pace.  She grabbed her cell and dialed Peter’s number.

“Hello?” Peter answered sleepily.

“Peter, go to channel 5.”  Nina said urgently.

“Okay… it’s about some murders.  People get killed all the time Nina did you really have to call me at 9:00 on a Saturday morning for this?” Peter said, annoyed.

“People don’t get killed all the time like that!  It says there skin was scrubbed off and that’s what happened to the caregivers…”

“At the orphanage…” Peter finished, “ So you think Ralph is out there killing again?”

“I mean I’m not sure but I have a feeling about this Peter.  We know something that no one else does, we have to do something!”

“Like what?  We don’t know anything about Ralph, we don’t even know if he was the one who killed the caregivers in the first place.  Your not a detective Nina you’re a PR agent!” Peter said trying his best to dissuade her from whatever plan she had contrived.

“Peter, I told you I have a feeling about this, I can’t explain it, lets just call it a women’s intuition.  I’m going to Champagne Illinois today to figure this whole thing out, with you or without you.”

After a minute of hesitation Peter responded, ”Fine.  I’ll drive.”

After they got off the phone Nina went over to her laptop to try and find some information about her uncle Ralph.  Since he had been kept a secret from her she thought he would be hard to find but just a simple google brought up a whole list of Ralph Johnson’s.  She looked through each one hoping for something that would make it clear that it was her uncle.  Towards the end of her frustrating search she found a Ralph Johnson that had recently bought a vacation home in Champagne, Illinois.  Jackpot, she thought.  If Ralph were the killer he would have to live near by where the murders took place.  Nina printed out the address and had a mini panic attack after glancing in the mirror.  Peter would be there any minute and she looked like a tanner version of Samara from The Ring. 

Just as she had finished putting on her last layer of makeup Peter called to say he was outside.  Nina threw some essential spy things (binoculars, notebook, sunglasses and a light colored lipstick called Chameleon) into her Gucci tote and rushed out to Peter.

“What’s the plan Carmen SanDiego?”  Peter asked.

“Why did you call me that?” Nina retorted a disgusted expression on her face.

“Its your code name!”

“Whatever freak, first stop Champagne, Illinois.” 

They pulled up to Ralph’s shabby apartment building at half past noon.  The sun was bright and it glinted off Peter’s golden hair distracting Nina from her panic of entering a potential murderer’s home.  Nina hesitated on the sidewalk after getting out of the car but Peter walked bravely to the door and rang the buzzer of Ralph’s apartment number.  Not wanting to appear scared Nina walked quickly to join him. 

“Hello?” A voice said through the speaker.

“Hi, is this Ralph Johnson?” Nina asked tentatively.

“Yes, and who is this?”

“I’m Nina Johnson your niece.  I found a picture of you and my dad I just thought were family and…”

“Nina? I haven’t seen you since you were a baby!  Of course come in!” Ralph interrupted.

Nina looked at Peter questioningly, they were both surprised by how welcoming Ralph was toward her.  Peter shrugged and opened the door.

Ralph’s apartment was small and incredibly clean, every inch was spotless and shining like it had just been washed.  Nina felt at home there immediately. Ralph was so happy to see her again, filling both Nina and Peter with cake and tea. The conversation was pleasant and upbeat with never an awkward silence until the subject of Nina’s father came around.  Ralph’s friendly face turned cold and he said that they had had a disagreement when Nina was just a baby and they had never talked since.  Throughout this reunion Peter had kept quiet letting Nina and Ralph catch up, observing him all the while.  He got up once to use the bathroom and returned with an unreadable expression on his face.  Nina interpreted this as boredom and decided it was time to take their leave.  Ralph begged them to stay for dinner, said they could stay over for the night and when Nina turned down his offer he seemed genuinely disappointed.  Nina left feeling happy and content with the thought of being reunited with a family member who seemed quite normal and definitely not a murderer.

“So I was wrong,” Nina said on the car ride home, “ Ralph seems really nice.”

“I’m not so sure Nina, did you see how clean that place was?  When I went to the bathroom I found a room filled entirely with cleaning supplies.”

“So?” Nina asked.

“So the murderer scrubs his victims clean, and Ralph is obsessed with cleanliness. Do you get my connection?”

“Maybe he just likes things to be clean.  Anyways if he was a killer why are we alive right now?”

“I’m just saying I don’t think you should trust him Nina.  I got a bad vibe from him, like he wanted something from you.”

“Oh my God, I can’t believe you’re jealous of him.  He’s my uncle Peter seriously can’t your mind think of anything else.” Nina said, giving him a look of disgust.

“That’s not what I meant… whatever let’s just go back home.”  Peter said frustratingly.

On their way home Peter saw on old barn off of the highway he couldn’t help but wonder if it was the same barn where the murders had taken \ place.

They arrived at Nina’s and she invited Peter in for a beer to thank him for coming with her to see Ralph.  Peter accepted and soon one beer turned to five.  The chemistry between Nina and Peter was running wild, until after one beer too many Nina threw up all over Peter’s shoes.  Peter did stay the night but not in the romantic sense, he stayed on the couch just to make sure Nina didn’t choke on her own vomit or something to that affect.

 Peter was awoken by some rustling coming from Nina’s bedroom. He covered his head with a pillow assuming it was just more barf until he heard a muffled scream.  He jumped off of the couch and yanked open her bedroom door but it was too late Nina was gone.  He looked out the window and saw someone pull her off of the fire escape and into a car.  Raulph, Peter thought.  He dashed out the door and into his car.  He drove as fast as he could but he saw no sign of Nina’s kidnapper.  He began to drive to Ralph’s apartment but when he saw the old barn in the distance, its lights illuminated in the dead of night, he decided to follow his instincts.

There she was.  Blood dripped from her entire body to the point where she was barely recognizable.  There was no sign of Ralph.  Peter bent down toward the body that had once been Nina, tears were rolling from his eyes.  He reached for her and then everything was black.  Ralph stood above them; there was a shovel in one hand and big wad of steel wool in the other.  He dropped the shovel and reached for Peter. Let the cleaning begin, He thought smiling his evil grin.