Did you know there is a 40% chance that you could get away with murder?
Some studies say the rate of police solving a murder is around 61 – 62% percent. These statistics do not mean you should make plans to do away with someone. There is more to know before jumping in.
Forty percent may sound like great odds for getting away with murder. But you still have to consider the consequences. Keep in mind there is a 60% chance you will get caught. That means spending the rest of your life in prison or getting the death penalty – depending upon your court outcome.
Your question may be, why is the Murder Solve Rate at 60%?
To be fair to law enforcement, several reasons could be the cause. Some killers are serial killers. They learned lessons from their mistakes. They learn how to approach killing better. These serial killers hone their skills. They know how to throw off law enforcement.
Some studies say another reason for the 60% Murder Solve Rate is a cut in some states’ and cities’ budgets. That leads to inadequate training to deal with these murderers.
That does not mean that these killers are not on the law enforcement radar. Law enforcement may not know who is murdering people. But they may have a good idea and leads to follow.
Keep that in mind when you are considering when the best time or reason is to commit murder.
Ed Pearson should have read these statistics. Check out the story below. You will see what I mean.
When is it necessary to kill someone?
Ed Pearson had no idea that he would confront himself with that very question before the night was over.
Ed Pearson lay in bed at two a.m. in a seedy motel room named The Joyful Room. Each room had a name in Big AL’S Motel. It sat off of Interstate 95. Easy to get to. Easy to leave.
Ed and Fiona Bell had just had another two-hour love session. Three hundred dollars lay on the table next to Fiona’s purse. To Ed, she was worth it all and more. Fiona knew what he wanted and had no qualms with giving it to him.
Ed lay on the bed, looking up at the ceiling. Another night had gone perfectly. Just the way he planned it. He reached over to the nightstand with the peeling white paint for his cigarettes. Fiona came out of the bathroom naked. One hand was behind her back. She grabbed the cigarette pack and lighter and handed them to Ed.
“Thank you,” he said. He tapped the pack against his palm. He then slid out one of the cigarettes. A no-smoking sign was on the table. It meant nothing to Ed. That fleabag of a motel had better be grateful for customers like him. It would go bust if he and others like him stopped renting rooms.
Ed offered Fiona a cigarette. She held up her hand. “Look at you staying healthy,” he said. “That’s what I like. Stay twenty-five as long as you can. You’ll reach sixty before you know it.”
Ed snorted and looked around and took a drag from the cigarette. The place was disgusting. The carpet was a yellow puke green with stains all over it. Once white walls were now gray. He would not dare pull back the sheet. Whatever was on the mattress needed to stay a secret. The stains on it were best left hidden. Rust was around the sink in the bathroom. The bathtub was as filthy as the toilet. So why come there? The room was cheap and out of the way.
Ed took another drag from the cigarette and patted the spot beside him. Fiona sighed and climbed on the bed. She slid up next to him and laid her head on his chest. Ed blew smoke and watched his feet move up and down.
“You’re quiet, baby,” he said, sliding his hand down her long black hair. His fingers crawled as far as they could down her back. Her petite body was sturdier than it looked. She was rough when she wanted to be. Every movement was undeniably incredible. Not like his wife. She was fat and always on a new diet. Fiona had her act together. “What’s wrong?”
Fiona’s neck hurt. The downward angle that her head was on due to Ed’s chest aggravated it. Ed wanted her to lay on top of him when they finished having sex. He called her his little blanket. But she found his belly too big. It forced her body into a V-shape. It aggravated her lower back.
“I’ve got something to tell you,” she lifted her head. “Look.” She held up a pregnancy test and waved it back and forth. “It’s yours.” Ed squinted. “What? It’s yours.”
“What?” he said and sat up quickly. Her head slid off his chest onto the bed. She reached for him to lay back down. He shook her hand off and stood up. “Are you kidding me? No, it’s not. No way. Ah. Uh. Not mine. No way. You’re not tricking me into that BS. No, sir.”
“You’re the only one I don’t use a condom with,” she said, getting onto her knees. “My boyfriend even uses a condom. Everyone uses a condom. I demand it. But not from you.”
“That can’t be true,” he said. “I’m not letting a whore ruin my life and marriage. I told you that.”
“A whore!” she yelled. “Get out. Get the hell out!”
He moved fast, putting on his clothes.
“You begged me not to make you use a condom,” she said. “You had the timing perfectly. You’re a mathematician. Isn’t that what you said? Face it. You got it wrong. Don’t ask me if we’re keeping it. You’ll perform your fatherly duties.”
Ed kept getting dressed. He did not say anything. He needed to get out of there. This was all he needed to put an end to his prestigious life. He graduated from the University of Pennsylvania. His wife graduated from Brown. And she was still dumb. He hated his wife. But he needed her.
He put on his shoe. He should have seen it coming. Two weeks into their relationship Fiona started talking about what if. What if he left his wife? What if they became more without him realizing it? He should have listened more. She planned it.
Fiona set him up. He could not believe it. Months of honest business with her had turned into blackmail. “Why don’t you just tell me how much it’ll be to settle with you,” he said.
“You fat pig!” she yelled. “You fat disgusting pig. Get out.” Ed seethed. She picked up her cell phone and began pushing buttons.
“I’m leaving,” he said and grabbed his jacket. He checked for his wallet and left quickly.
Ed hurried to his Jaguar SUV and got in and drove off. Fiona’s boyfriend was also her pimp. And he was rough looking. He had tattoos and piercings on his face.
Ed turned onto the street and cut off an Audi sedan. Tires screeched. Horns sounded off behind him. Ed flipped them the bird. Then he pounded the steering wheel. He should have seen it coming. Her willingness not to wear a condom. Her making him wait to cum. All a ploy to blackmail him. His wife would leave him the moment she found out. Fiona and her boyfriend would blackmail him forever. There was only one way out.
Ed jerked the steering wheel and took the on-ramp to I95.
He would have to kill Fiona. His palms were sweating. Kill her. No other choice. If she lived, his wife would leave him penniless. The ten million in investments were from her father. And that no good bastard never allowed him to put his name on his wife’s assets.
Fiona was as good as dead.
Enjoy your week.
Do something fun.
Thanks,
Stephen Wallace
Stephen Wallace 