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Farm Death
It was a freezing cold September autumn night. The clock had just struck midnight. The full moon had lit up the sky so brightly, as if it was the middle of the afternoon. The soft cold breeze rustled the long thick field of corn. The rural country area had a calm, but spooky mood. A local farmer lay sound asleep. His name was Walter Bosh. He lived about one hundred yards away from his cornfield in a small but cozy house. Other than the soft calm wind, there wasn’t another sound in the night darkness…that is until Walter was awakened by Crack! Crack! Crack! They had been the sound of gunshots.
Walter had thought nothing of it at first, so he tried to go back to sleep. Crack! He had been interrupted again by the screaming noise that seemed to cut through the calm silence. Something else caught his attention. It had not been the gunshots, but the disturbing sounds of a young man… screaming for his life. Walter was terrified. He didn’t know what to do. He was frozen in his own thoughts.
“Someone help me!! There is a mad man chasing me. Help!” A distant voice screamed.
“I got you now boy! You thought you could run from me, didn’t you!!?”
“No!! Please no! I have done nothing wrong! Please! Please don”-........Crack! The boy’s last words in this life had been cut off. The commotion stopped. The voices stopped… All was silent. Walter raced to his bedroom window to see what had just happened. From this distance, he could not see anything, just the outline of his cornfield in the bright moonlight. Crack! Once more another gunshot rang through the field. Walter’s first thought was police, phone, and 911, 911, 9...1...1. He raced to his nightstand to get the phone.
“911, what’s your emergency?” Asked a young lady’s voice.
“Yes thank you. My name is Walter Bosh. I am a local farmer in Lancaster. Not too long ago, I was awakened by two screaming men and many gunshots. It came from behind my house in my cornfield. By the sounds of their screams, it sounded like an older middle-aged man and a young man, maybe even a teenager. Someone is either seriously hurt or even killed. I think a teenager was shot.” Replied Walter in a flabbergasted voice.
“Where do you live sir?” Asked the calm woman’s voice. She acted as if this was an ordinary event. She kept her cool.
“2627 Bailard Drive, Lancaster PA.”
“Ok sir, stay inside. We have someone on their way. We will be there as soon as possible. By all means, do not set a foot outside until we have someone with you. We are sending an ambulance too.”
Walter lived about 15 miles out of town, and there were not many houses near his, so there would be no other witnesses of the events that occurred. The fact that he lived far away from anyone else, made Walter wonder where the two men even came from. The next nearest house was about 2 miles away. Walter ran the event through his mind as he waited for the sirens to come to his ears. There wasn't much Walter would be able to do when the police got there. He was still scared out of his mind.
Two police cars and an ambulance showed up within twenty minutes of the call. Walter was surprised about how quickly they were able to get to his house. Walter was waiting at his front door when he heard and saw the sirens come up the small dirt road leading to his house. The three vehicles were speeding as if they were ready for action at any moment. Once the cars reached the front of his house, two police officers jumped out of each police car. They had their handgun at their side and a flashlight in each of their hands.
As the officer sprinted past the front of the house, one of them saw Walter standing at the door.
“Stay inside!” The officer screamed.
By the looks of it, the officers have been informed of the whole situation. Walter raced up to his bedroom window to see if he could spot anything. All he could see were four bright beams of light slowly moving up and down the field. The cops circled the field many times and walked through every single row of corn looking for evidence. The search went on for about an hour, before they started working their way back to Walter’s house. Walter was still standing petrified, as he saw the four officers emerge from the darkness and start up towards his house. They still walked swiftly with such precaution up to his house, still ready for something to pop up and jump out at them. They walked back around the house to the front door. Walter made his way down the staircase.
Knock, knock, knock. One of the officers banged on his door.
“Hel.. hel.. Hello officers” Walter stuttered as he slowly opened the door. “You may come in”
“Thank you Mr. Bosh we shouldn't be long” Answered the officer who seemed to be in charge ever since they had arrived.
“Have you found any traces or evidence?” Anxiously asked Walter.
“Yes we have, but it’s not much to go on,” Answered the chief. “We have found a small puddle of blood in the center of the field, a .243 cal rifle bullet casing lying near the puddle, some corn stalks knocked down from where the two men were running, and two sets of footprints all inside the field. We shouldn't be much longer here. I would just like to ask you some questions.”
“Sure no problem. What do you need to know?” Walter asked. Although Walter was scared and shocked about what happened, his blood was pumping, he was almost excited. He was anxious to talk to the chief.
“Where were you when you first heard the gunshots and screams? And where they anywhere near the front of the house, or were they just behind, in the cornfield?” Asked the chief
“Why I was in my bedroom sleeping. It was about midnight. My bedroom is in the back of my house and my window is facing the cornfield. I’m not sure if I heard the first gunshots, but they definitely woke me up. I could just hear the faint screams coming from the cornfield. Before I called 911, I raced to my window to look at what accrued.
“Could you see anything Walter?” Asked the chief.
“No sir,” Answered Walter. “I wasn’t able to make out much movement in the field and I wasn’t able to pick out any people. All I could see was the outline of the cornfield and the stalks blowing in the soft breeze. Since its about one hundred yards away, it was difficult to see. When the gunshots and screams stopped, that is when I made the call. I stayed up in my bedroom the whole time.”
As Walter carefully answered the chief’s questions, the chief took out a note-pad and starting making notes.
“I think that will be it for tonight, Walter,” Murmured the chief. There is nothing further we are able to do. We will be back in the early morning. probably around 7:00am. Our police station has already contacted our lead detective in Lancaster. His name is Ed McCoy. Us four officers and Mr. McCoy will be doing further investigation of the events that occurred tonight. Thank you for your help.
“No problem,” Answered Walter, “I shall be up and ready in the morning in case you have any more questions.” Walter walked he officers to the front door.
“Good night sir.” The chief said as he got into his squad car.
It was 2:00am when Walter watched the two squad cars and the ambulance disappear over top of the small hill at the bottom of the road. It was very noticeable by the cops that Walter was frightened and nervous about the events that night. Walter tried to stay as calm as possible, but he was very conscious. Was there a mad killer on his property? Was he safe? Could the killer still be in his yard? Many questions sailed through Walter’s mind as he tried to fall asleep.
Walter hadn't gotten much sleep that night. He woke up around 6:00 am to get ready for the investigation. He was so scared when he woke up that he stared out his window for ten minutes before he went downstairs. It was around 7:00 am when he saw three cars driving up the hill. There were two regular cop cars followed by a solid black cop car with dark tinted windows. Walter watched out his kitchen window as the cars drove up to the front of the house. Like the chief said, the four officers came from last night, plus detective Ed.McCoy. Detective McCoy was the first to get out of his car, followed by the chief and the other three officers.
Knock Knock. Walter walked from the kitchen to answer the door.
“Hello Walter, my name is Ed.McCoy” The detective anxiously shook Walters hand. “The chief already informed me of all the details of last night. Is there any other information you didnt mention to them last night that you would like to share?”
“No Mr.McCoy. I wish I could be a bigger help, but I have already shared all the information with the chief. Is there any other way I can assist you this morning? If you need me, just give me a hollar.” Replied Walter.
“Nope, I think were all set. If we have anymore questions, we will be right up to talk to you. Thank you Walter” Yelled Ed as he walked out the door to meet up with the other officers.
Ed was told by the chief what was discovered in the field. He was told about the
small puddle of blood in the center of the field, a .243 cal rifle bullet casing lying near the puddle, some corn stalks knocked down from where the two men were running, and two sets of footprints all inside the field. They went over all the events and findings of last night.
Their first action was to investigate where they found the blood. As the five of them hiked through the field with their eyes peeled, strangely no other evidence was found. They approached the spot where the blood was. By now it was well soaked into the ground, and was left to a small red stain in the mud. About three feet away from the stain was the .243 bullet casing. It was surprising for the officers that no other shells were found. The criminal must have had a brass catcher on his rifle to make sure no evidence was found. Detective McCoy stand at the scene of the blood, mumbling to himself about the crime. The other three officers were standing in a group when one of the found something.
“Hey look over there!” One of the officers yelled as he pointed to a pile of corn. He could just see the bottom half of a footprint. The chief quickly ran over to the pile to move the corn. The pile had been behind the blood stain. When he moved all of the corn, he discovered that there were two sets of prints. Both of them leading to the blood spot. Right before the blood, about two feet away was a big indent in the mud. It looked like someone had fallen or had laid down.
“Yup, this is it. This is where the boy fell to his death or was seconds away from it.” Added the detective.
The chief starred puzzled at the spot. “Look! There's more prints. And they’re coming from the indented mud. We should follow them. It looks like they’re heading back to the house.
“I think there’s one clear explanation that we all know. We think that the victim was shot and killed here,” said the detective as he pointed to the indented spot. “And from this point I’m making the prediction that the killer picked up the body and started walking back towards Walter’s house. Boys, we should follow the prints. Be careful not to get too close; we dont want to mix up our prints with the killers.”
The five of them followed the prints in a straight line for about fifty yards before they reached the end of the field. They were all shocked. After the field stopped and the mud that showed the prints were gone, they saw imprints in the long grass.
They leaded directly to the back of Walter’s house. Directly to Walters’ garage, below his bedroom window. They followed the grass prints to the sidewalk before the garage entrance. As soon as the stepped foot on it, they noticed the muddy boot prints. Surrounding the prints were streaks of blood. It looked as if the body had been dragged. As they approached the entrance the chief noticed that there was a padlock on the door. Unhesitantly, the chief saw a small hatchet by a wood pile, hurried over and struck the lock. They opened the door. but it was stuck. Chief barged through the door. The body of a young man had been propped up against the garage door. Probably around the age of seventeen.
“Wow…” Shockley remarked the chief.
Everyone loudly gasped, except for Detective McCoy, who immediately bent over to examine the body. The chief pulled out a police radio.
“Get someone down here right now!” Demanded the chief. “We have found a body of a young man.”
Lying beside the boy was a .243 cal rifle. Along the side of the rifle was the name “Walter A. Bosh” engraved in gold writing. The rifle had belonged to Walter. From where the body lay, there were more boot prints. They led to the entrance to his kitchen. On the front step to the door were the boots. Mr.McCoy picked them up to look at the bottom. There was blood and mud inside the treading. At this point they were all thinking, did Walter do it? Could Walter have called the police as a cover up?
The chief and Detective McCoy made up their mind. They broke through the front door of Walter’s house with such force, that Walter nearly jumped out of his own house. Walter had been eating a bowl of cereal at in his living room.
“Get on the ground right now! You're under arrest for the murder of a young man you sick fool!” Screamed the chief as he pointed his handgun at Walter. One of the three officers jumped on his back and handcuffed him.
“Wait no! Stop! I didn’t do anything! I’m innocent” Screamed Walter with tears running his face. “I’m the one who called you!”
“Then can you explain the body of a young man in your garage! Can you explain the rifle with your name on it!? Can you explain your muddy and bloody boots!? And can you explain why your back garage door was locked with a pad-lock!? Thought not!” Smirked the chief.
Walter was broken. How could he be set up like this? That was Walter last thought before he was walked out the front door to the police car.
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