Meticulously John Harmom dressed himself. It took forty five minutes until he was completely satisfied with his appearance. He was now ready to leave his apartment on Fifth Avenue in New York City. His apartment building was directly across the street from Central Park. Before leaving he picked up a brand new Blue Box that was on the side table in his apartment foyer.
John Harmon lived alone. He was independently wealthy due to his father leaving him millions when he died. John was not employed or was he the employer of anything or anyone. Handsomely fit for a middle aged man, he expressed wealth in his easy, confident manner. John was sociable yet aloof. He would be what someone would call "A private man."
John nodded to the doorman Charles who nodded back as he exited his apartment building. Carrying the Blue Box John walked downtown on Fifth Avenue on the Apartment Building side of the street. Casually, yet firm in stride, he walked until he reached the beginning of the Park. The sun was now setting slowly on Cenral Park and this side of the world. John surpisingly entered the subway at the 5th Avenue Station. He smoothly swiped his Fare Card through the swiper on one of the turnstiles and when it read "GO" John went and caught a train towards Queens, New York. Other passengers looked at John and immediately pulled back. He was different than the rest of the people riding the subway that day. He was a real gentlemen, in a classical sense. You just knew it at one glance. John stood erect looking at no one as he was holding onto his Blue Box and one of the poles in the middle of the subway car.
John exited the subway at the Queensboro Plaza Station. He walked steadily from the train platform down a few stairway landings until he reached street level. He gave the appearance of knowing where he was going but in an elegant sort of way. It was almost dark on the streets at this time. He walked a few blocks until he came to an expansive garage type building. He opened up a side door with his key and entered. He opened up the large wooden garage driveway door. He entered his black BMW and with his Blue Box in the back seat exited the building, stopped, closed the garage door behind him and took off silently down the very worn street.
John drove back into Manhattan into the rustic park of New York known as Greenwich Village. John found an empty parking meter and he parked his car. He walked across the street into a quaint coffee shop bistro type cafe. Within an hour he walked out of the cafe alone and re-entered his car. He waited in his car with a mature patient expression on his face as if he was used to it, and inexplicably he was. She came out about 30 minutes later. She was an extremely attractive woman in her late thirties who was enjoying an evening out with her two girl friends. He didn't say a word to her inside of the cafe. He just gave her "The Look" from across the dining area from where he was sitting alone at a very small table. He didn't have to. She knew he would be waiting for her outside of the cafe. She was yearning to be loved. She slid beside him in the front seat and he kissed her gently and he slid a hypodermic needle into her thin, feminine left arm. Her surprised eyes slowly closed and John positioned her as he reclined her seat a bit.
He drove to an isolated area along the West Side Highway which was definately desolate at night time. He took her out of the car and place her face up on the filthy ground. He went back to the car and took the Blue Box out of the back seat. He opened up the Blue Box and took out a very sharp carving knife. Kneeling down without effort he cut off both of her hands at the wrist and placed the knife and her hands into the Blue Box. John returned to the car, took off the plastic gloves and put them into the Blue Box also. He left her lying there with a surprised look on her face. Taking an experienced survey of the immediate area John determined instinctively that it was time to "go". He put his car into gear and slowly he glided off into the shadows of the night. After John's car departed her body was completely unnoticeable in the blackness where she laid.
John rode uptown on Park Avenue, turned left to Fifth Avenue and drove to his garage around the corner from where he lived. Upon entering his apartment building holding the Blue Box, Joseph the night doorman greeted Mr. Harmon with,
"Good evening sir, out and about I see."
"Yes Joseph, out and about."
The next morning, after a quiet, perfect breakfast in his room, delivered by a nearby restaurant, John clicked on the morning news which reported "again" of the fiendish serial killer who murdered another woman in New York City. Her body was discovered early this morning by derelicts in a deserted area on the West Side whose hands were horribly removed, identical to the ten other victims. The murdered woman found today was wealthy and married to the owner of numerous car dealerships in New York State.
There were no witnesses to the crime and no description of the perpetrator was available and no physical evidence recovered at the scene. A police spokes person pleaded for any assistance from the public or other law enforcement agencies which would lead to the solving of these horrific crimes.
John Harmon clicked off the TV, picked up his second cup of coffee and went to the living room which overlooked Central Park. Looking out over the Park on this amazingly wonderful spring day John spoke out privately,
"Lovely day, very lovely day. This is too nice of a day to spend by yourself."
He got up and went to a hidden closet which revealed exactly 11 Blue Boxes which were numbered. He retrieved number 11 and brought it back to the living room. He opened the Blue Box and placed the two hands on a towel on one of the easy chars by the window across the way from his, which took in an excellent view of the Park.
"Now that's better" John exclaimed excitedly.
And they sat there together perusing the traffic, jogger's, bicyclers and people of all types and description coming and going on the street below.
"What a lovely day indeed!"