A Branch from the Devil

(A Murder Mystery, along the Thames)


Chapter One
Katita’s Formative Years

Katita whose Christian family name will not be mentioned here, for it would at once, draw attention, unneeded and uncalled-for attention to the family, her father had abandoned her mother at a very young age; the period of his death, which forms the initial subject of my heretofore, narrative to be. At this exact point, Katita’s mother received a pension—for the most part, on behalf of her daughter, to care for her and her education, until she would turn twenty-five years of age. At the age of twelve years old, her mother died, in a like manner of her husband, drowned, and found along the hard rock and cemented shores of London’s Thames River, and so we see the inheritance of Katita’s father goes to her, and her guardian (whom is of little significance in this narrative, but nonetheless, I shall mention her name, Claudia Belmont, a small structured woman, of a very old age, a relative, Godmother, to the child).
She, Katita’s alluring and great beauty, was accepted by the young spirited, charming and at times folly of her personality, even at an anticipative angle, she become awake to the latter part of it, and while at the edge of it, acquire a profound terror.
There was no serious investigation into the drowning of her father and mother (that took place over a seven year period), in London’s Thames, River—that is, up to one fine morning when the policeman came knocking on her door, she replied to all his questions—the investigation officer being Thomas Harding—with a perfect alibi to the death of Juan Parra de Roule, her Latin lover from the Andes of Peru (drowning in the Thames): thus, the offence died away, even forgotten by Miss Katita.
His corpse, Juan Parra’s was found; along those cement walls of London’s Thames River, at the point not far from Cleopatra’s Needle, the ancient structure that over looks the river, brought to London in the 1880s. Matter of fact, this is where all three bodies were found, if not next to it, nearby it. Evidently, and according to Harding’s’ theory, the bodies either floated away from the needle, or remained by it because of the debris the tourist threw in the river, and it collected on the banks underneath the needle, whatever the case, he was convinced the murders—yes indeed, he referred to them as murders, took place right there.
Katita now was twenty-two years old, and thus far, the murders would have spanned a 17-year period. And to his theory, they all connected to the same murderer, the atrocity of all three marched to the same beat, and so it was at this juncture Thomas Harding came to view these murders and its victims connecting to Katita herself, but absent was a clue to the mystery, yet Mr. Harding was sure there was an assassin, that these were not simply coincidences. No one doubted it was a devilish mystery, but as described and the murders being in a seventeen year span, nothing was brought forth to light.

Chapter Two
Mr. Harding’s Investigation


To Mr. Harding, it was obvious, the three corpses did not drawn, positively so, they had too many bruses to indicated otherwise. Strange as it appeared to everyone, Harding kept the case open, although having—reluctantly—to discharge the only suspect he had, Katita, for she had passed and passed before his and, but the wise inspector simply could never procure a perfect scenario for her murdering the father, and he knew without a doubt, the assailant was linked to all three.


Chapter Three
Concluding Facts

In respect for the supposition of Mr. Harding, who died not knowing the facts, the complete facts to his case that is, or not taking them into to account, if indeed he knew them, and overlooked them, this explanation, to the facts, that took place, at its latest date being, his death in the Thames River in the summer of 1974, when Mr. Harding was found drawn, a few years into the investigation. I shall give him the credit, for his everlasting endeavors.
Had Mr. Harding taken the time, or kept an open mind, and not overlooked certain things in his overview of the case important miscalculations, —henceforward, he might have found his error, which produces at length the results only a loving father like he might have missed. For in regard to youth at its briefest point, it has its most variance for evil or good. Perhaps a branch from the devil can sway it, and in this case I think it did.
While visiting her father along the Thames, in 1952, at the age of five years old, Katita seemingly appeared to have embedded thoughts altogether apart from her own, to be fully entertained, pushed her father, gently, and he fell to his death, there on the cemented gradated bank, rolling the rest of the way into the river, as he had turned away from the needle, to enjoy the tranquility of the water, the motive, the rupturing of the family, he was guilty of many sins, and among them, threatening his wife, Katita’s mother.
In a like manner, and again at the same location, in the same way, in 1959, Katita’s mother died, the motive was, she, was to bring her daughter to an orphanage, convinced the young girl was consuming too much of her life, to a point she had no free time for herself—perhaps dating was included. In any case, by the shake of the dice, and a new voice in her head, and reflection, which appeared obvious, she had committed her second murder, exactly the same way.
Exposed within these limits of murder, she marched forward and killed her boyfriend, for adultery, so she claimed, and killed him in her old style of execution, but this time with the help of a small baseball bat she kept under her car seat.
And I suppose at this point, you readers can guess how she killed her last antagonist, Mr. Harding.



Note: “A Branch from the Devil,” written after lunch at “Mia Mamma’s” restaurant, the afternoon of, 10-14-2008, in El Tambo, in Huancayo, Peru (I had a nice Steak, with bone and fat, and Split Pea soup for lunch, three bowls, coffee and coke, and the wind came and blew the umbrellas wildly about as my wife and I sat outside in the open part of the Café, and perhaps all this food and wind and then the sun inspired me to write this story, and thus, came a branch into my mind, and of course, who else could do such evil deeds as drowning so many, but the devil himself. The name Katita, came from the little girl who was eating over by me under another umbrella with her mother, the previous day, I had met her before, she came and kissed me goodbye, and thus, the little angel got into my story, I do hope if she ever reads it, she not take offence. And so I shall dedicate this story to her, the little beauty, so she pardons me for using her name.)