Dearest Joshua,

You are my only advocate: only friend. You still maintain my innocence.

You say: I could never do it.

You stand with me. I could never kidnap, extort, murder. He was only five. You know me.

You say: We grew up together.

       During all the years my confinement, all the years of appeals, even when everyone else had left me to my fate; you knew my innocence. You are my only confidant.

You say: You will never give up.

       But what you don’t know, Joshua, what the police can not know, what the boiled bones will not tell is – I tortured him first. For weeks and weeks I tortured him. I smile when I think about his screams, sweeter than the finest symphony created. I tortured him until his broken mind could scream no longer; until he forgot his mother. I replay his screams every night in my head like a lullaby as I lay down to rest peacefully. No, Joshua, you could never know.

You say: I would never even think it.

       You could never know that he wasn’t the first. Wasn’t the only. And not the last. You will be here tonight. You will come to let me know that I am not alone as they stick the needles in my arms. You will say to everyone that I am innocent. As I breathe my last breath you will still proclaim my innocence; a profound miscarriage of justice.

You will say: They have murdered an innocent man.

       But now you know, Joshua, from this letter delivered after my death. (It is my last request.) I can kidnap. I can extort. I can murder. And my last victim, dearest Joshua, is you. I will lay on the table and see your tears and know your turmoil and know I created it. You cried for a guilty man under false pretenses. How I have enjoyed playing with your emotions through these years.

You are my favorite victim.

Most gratefully,
Your Manipulator,
Vincent