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I, Thomas Z. Knell, do hereby confess to the murder of one Brian T. Roberts. The murder occurred 62 years ago on August 8. I make this confession freely. Don't get me wrong, I'm not
confessing out of an act of kindness. I remember the day well, it has replayed in my mind over and over for years. It was a beautiful day. Warm, sunny with not a cloud in sight. Late
evening, about 8:30 I'd say.
I started out as a bad person. Don't think you are special. We all start life as bad people. Goodness is something we learn from the company we keep. I
had good family and friends, people who could've made my life more fulfilling, but I chose to hang with the wrong crowd. I wanted money and at the time all the good people didn't have it. They were happy,
but poor. I wanted to be happy and rich. So I hung around the people who projected that image.
I went to university and earned a business degree. I hoped it would help me make money. It
did at first. I got a great job in retail. The regional manager for the largest department store chain in the Pacific Northwest. I had a beautiful wife, a nice car, and a huge house. You'd think I was
happy but I wasn't. I wanted more. I was tired of the nine to five rat race. I wanted adventure. Fast cars, fast women, and fast money. That's when my friends came in handy.
It was
at a friend's bachelor party that I learned about this thing called crack. My friends had wonderful ideas and a great product but they lacked sufficient management skills. I was the perfect person to run the
business, plus it came with all the frills I sought: fast cars, fast money, and fast women. It was at that party I decided to get into the drug business.
I did some great research. Checked out all the
books I could on drugs. I even studied up on the local, state, and national laws. Went so far as to attend every trial of drug dealers and users that I could. Yep, I was the perfect manager.
At
that time there was a little thing going around called 'the war on drugs.' I liked that. I was in the Army National Guard. I knew the military. So I stated my own 'army' to fight in this
'war.' I recruited the best to serve in my unit and I was very particular about who I took on. When word got out, I had somewhere between ten and thirty people a day try out for my army. My top
recruits where made into officers and noncommissioned officers. Together we ran a tight ship with strict discipline.
When dealing with illegal activities, the less known the better. I knew very little
about my sources and they knew very little about me. My officers set up the deals, my NCOs trained the privates, and the privates provided the foot work. If anyone was captured we provided bail and excellent
legal defense. Soldiers were paid well for not ratting and bonuses were awarded for every successful transaction. People respond well when they are well compensated especially when they know they have a team
backing them up. Some of my soldiers did stupid things, but we supported them anyway. It only made them more loyal to the 'cause.' Who says loyalty can't be bought?
We were in the drug business,
not theft. There were other ways to get the supplies we needed without stealing them. My soldiers were taught to talk to the NCOs whenever they needed anything. They had ways to obtain just about
anything though legal channels without drawing a lot of unnecessary attention to the organization.
We had years of great success. The cops were on to us, but never had enough evidence to bring down the
organization. I continued to attend trials and review case files. This kept me one step ahead of the cops and made me new contacts. It was almost too easy.
One day one of my officers introduced
me to a struggling meth lab. After extensive research and discussion, we decided to invest in the lab. It was the first of many. These labs had low overhead and high profits. The investments
proved to be very profitable. Unfortunately we became a victim of our own success.
Other copy cat labs started popping up all over town. I'd have to say idiots ran these labs. All they wanted
were profits. Never once did these lab managers consider the risks of running a lab. When they bought their supplies they would draw attention to the cops who promptly started surveillance. This made
it difficult for my soldiers to complete their supply runs. Overhead grew because they had to do more traveling to pick up what we used to get locally.
Soon these copy cat labs were blowing up. This put
meth in the news. The public began to take notice. And if that wasn't enough, users started committing small crimes in order to get money to purchase the meth. As a result of all this attention, cops began to
devote most of their time and resources to finding and destroying meth labs. One day they captured one of my organization's labs.
I went to the trial and the organization provided all the legal
defense. But it was difficult to keep up. One of our soldiers, Brian Roberts, got the wrong idea. He misinterpreted our financial troubles and thought we were abandoning him. He ratted. Lab
after lab was captured and the legal bills began to pile up.
The organization began to fall apart Stress levels rose and finances dropped. Soldiers started turning against us and moral fell. I
needed to do something to motivate the troops. I called a meeting of all the soldiers and gave the best pep talk of my life. Despite my best efforts, the blamestorming began. The troops wanted a
scapegoat. Punishing this person would help ease some tension. They chose Brian Roberts.
I met with my officers and we devised a plan to get rid of Brian. We decided we would do it ourselves, leave
out the NCOs and the privates. We figured this would set a good example to the troops. We would tell our families we were going to a friend's house for a game of poker. We'd kidnap Brian, drug him, and
dump his body in a meth lab and then burn it. When I look back I see how stupid the plan was, but at the time it was pure genius.
Like the soldiers we were, we studied our 'enemy.' For weeks we
watched Brian's every move. We took what we already knew and applied it to what we surveyed and finalized our strategy.
Brian had been an NCO in my army and even though NCOs were forbidden to use drugs,
Brian had been know to take heroin on occasion. So heroin was the drug we were going to use to dope him up. He was also well know in the community for his womanizing. A local bitch, nobody really, was
going to lure Brian out of a local bar and get him to drive to a private place in the woods. We'd then ambush him there. We'd dump his body in the truck of his car and an officer would drive it over to the
lab. We'd put his body in the lab and leave his car out front. The lab would then be set on fire.
The bitch did her part. Brian drove straight up to our ambush site. She lured him out of
the car and we jumped him. We knew he'd be armed so I frisked him for his piece and I took it from him. Now, I don't know what was going through that blondes head, but the stupid bitch decided she wanted to
give Brian a 'nothing personal' kiss. Brian kick her. This was not part of the plan so the officers released their grip ... out of shock I guess. Brian ran off into the woods.
I don't remember what
was exactly going though my mind at that time but I do know I wasn't about to let that bastard get away. So I chased after him
Seems like an eternity, but I only chased him for about five minutes before I
came to a bank. Looks like it was a ten, maybe fifteen, foot drop. Looked like something or someone had just fallen off into the river. It was a distraction. I turned and heard a loud pop.
Brian flopped down. I don't remember pulling the trigger, hell, I don't remember having the pistol.
So there, I killed Brian T. Roberts. August 8, 2001, 8:30 pm.
In exchange for her life, the
bitch took the rap. With our support, she was cleared under self defense and was back on the streets in no time, complete with a lifetime supply of heroin. Money isn't the only way to buy loyalty.
We
got out of the meth business. As a matter of fact, we got out of Spokane. We moved HQ to Sandpoint, ID. In our new charter we agreed to stay with heroin, marijuana, and crack. Period. The meth
dealers were tough competition but they took the heat off us.
Brian's blood was the fuel that powered the renewed faith in my army. Although the plan didn't work like we wanted, the troops were
motivated. I supported Brian's widow and his two girl's the best I could. I even bought a head stone for the bastard's grave. Looked like nothing but good came from his death.
I'm not sorry I killed Brian ... he had it coming. Just thought you should know.
Thomas Z. Knell
Thomas Z. Knell
September 13, 2063
To be read at my funeral |
