"Hallelujah !"

The Hemnars were having breakfast again.

'Someone's in a good mood,' said Mrs. Hemnar staring into her husband's face.

Charles looked like he wasn't even trying to hide his flashy grin. He wiped his mouth with a napkin. 'That's because we've got a lead, Martha. I think we now know who committed all those murders.'

'It's Sineas, right, daddy?' asked Sabrina in a high-pitched tone and sparkling eyes.

Charles took a sip of his coffee. 'We're not completely sure yet. Everything shall be disclosed tomorrow. We've got ourselves an anonymous informant claiming to have enough evidence to get this sicko locked away for good.'

'Sicko? So it is Sineas,' Sabrina said giggling in delight and turning her eyes under the table again.

Charles continued, 'Whoever it is, baby girl, they're about to get what's coming to them.'

'Can you really trust this source, dear?' Martha asked sounding doubtful. 'Maybe it's just someone trying to frame the poor boy,' she added.

'I highly doubt that, Martha. If what you're saying is true, that someone is trying to frame anybody here, then the evidence will speak for itself.'

Sabrina raised her head. 'I swear that if the killer turns out to be Sineas then I will start going to church, beginning this Sunday,' she said. She looked beyond elated, grinning from ear to ear.

'Do you even know what the first book of the Bible is Sabrina?' asked her mother.

She shrugged. 'Guess I'll find out on Sunday, mommy.'

'And if we do nail this person, Martha, I might just get promoted to detective,' said Charles taking another sip of his coffee. 'We'd finally leave this house and buy a mansion in WindleDrive. Higher pay, good life and an even better education for Sabrina…and, an increase in her allowance,' he winked slyly at his daughter.

'Hallelujah!' Sabrina shouted, raising her arms in the air.

Martha shook her head. She was still trying to wrap her head around what her husband was saying. 'And what about your partner; James? What does he benefit from this if you do catch this killer?'

'He'll probably make inspector here in Malrich,' Charles answered. 'Don't you get it, Martha? This would be the first murder case ever solved in Malrich and WindleDrive, and solved by yours truly. They'd give us medals, documentaries and who knows; they might even erect statues in our honour!'

'Let's not count our chickens yet, Charles,' said Martha. 'Let's just wait and see what your source has.'

He nodded still smiling from ear to ear. 'Agreed.'

'Any leads on the other case?' Martha asked him.

'The Priscilla Murphy case? We're working on it but…it's a pretty rocky road. Some guy called the station last night claiming he saw her three miles west of Malrich, another claimed they saw her in a bar and another said they saw her sleeping on a bench by the post office. So it's either Priscilla Murphy is omnipresent or the people who saw her have eye problems or drinking problems.'

'So her family never spoke to her at all since her escape?'

'Oooh, they did speak to her. Of that we're certain. I still remember her evaluation by her psychiatrist all those years ago. The tears she cried back then, screaming and pleading to see her son? Those were tears of eternal, maternal love, Martha. One of these days she's going to let her emotions blind her will to survive and she'll make a mistake and when she does…we'll be right there waiting for her.' Charles stood up and grabbed his jacket from his chair and began to put it on. 'I've got to run, ladies.' He stooped down and kissed his wife then waved his daughter goodbye and went for the door.

When Charles stepped outside the house, he found another brown envelope lying on his doorstep. He picked it up. "To Inspector Charles", it said. He immediately ripped it open. Just like the previous envelope, there was a handwritten letter inside. This one read:

To Inspector Charles:

In 24 hours you will have your murderer. I sincerely wish we could have met face-to-face, Inspector so I could vividly relate to you how this person has ruined my life, personally. Watching the news on TV of the mutilated bodies of an eighteen and twenty-eight year old is not something to take lightly. I think Malrich needs to believe that its police force does not tolerate crimes of such a level of intensity. In case you're probably still trying to decipher who it is that's writing these letters to you, you're just wasting your time. I'm not the enemy here. I'm just a concerned citizen who wants to see this murderer locked away behind bars or preferably, walking to the gallows on a beautiful and sunny day. As I said, inspector, tomorrow you shall have your truth. It's time we got rid of the filth in our neighbourhood. Have a wonderful day.

The inspector folded the letter and tucked it away inside his jacket pocket. His eyes scoured the area. There was no one. He began walking towards the patrol car.