Now let's just wait and see who rises to my bait, he thought to himself. Al Smith had just finished his personal profile listing on an internet matchmaking service, something he had done many times before, and had always been highly successful in his results. He was a con artist. He knew there are a lot of lonely women on the internet, just ripe for a man like him to come into their life and pluck for the picking. He gives them a little romance, and they end up paying with their lives. So far he had never even been a suspect in any of the deaths. He had the perfect con game all figured out in advance.
Almost immediately his mailbox began filling up with ladies interested in getting to know Al better.
He carefully read each profile and discarded any of them who did not seem to have money. He was not interested in any of them but the wealthy ones. He could smell money even over the internet. It was a gift of his. His nose could sniff the pigeons out, then all he had to do was swoop in for the kill.
Such easy little pigeons, he thought in amusement.
Al did not consider himself to be a bad person. He was in fact a sociopath who saw no wrong or right in anything he chose to do. To Al, he was a survivor. He did whatever he must do at the time. He had no remorse for any of his killings. The women meant nothing to him. He was merely a player in the game of life. And he intended to be a rich winner each and every time.
It had been four hours since Al had placed his new profile listing online and thirty women had already responded to it. Half of them he had discarded immediately sensing they were poor and lonely females just looking for love.
Al had heard a long time ago, the internet is nothing but one large whorehouse full of lonely, horney women. He had to agree with that concept. He had never once had to answer an ad himself. The women just bombarded him with replies as soon as he had posted a new profile. Al considered them as lambs awaiting their slaughter.
Fifteen women received letters that day from Al. He would write them of his sincerity in finding just one woman to fill his needs in life. He would tell them of his wonderfully exotic lifestyle down in the Florida Keys. He had everything but the one woman he searched for endlessly. This made the women give him their full attention. After that first letter, he would know for sure if they had any money or not. Women loved to bare their souls to a man online for some reason. All they needed was a kindred spirit feeling between them and they would tell a man anything he wanted to know. Within another few hours, Al had narrowed his search down to one woman. She would be his new victim. She was widowed with no children and she had no family. Her husband had left her a large sum of insurance money. She was the perfect victim for a man like Al.
Al called Betty Jones as soon as she sent him her phone number and proceeded to do his con job on her. By the end of the second phone call to her, he had convinced her to fly down and visit him in Key West. He had her practically eating out of his hands before they had even met. He knew just how to work women to all his advantages. He was tall and good looking in the kind of rugged way that seemed so appealing to all women. He could carry on an intelligent conversation about any subject. He knew how to give women all the affection and romance they so badly crave. He was like flypaper and they were his fly. Once he got them stuck on him there was no letting go until death.
Al was fifty years old, and he had never been married. He had never had to carry a plot that far yet, not that he was adverse to doing it if he'd had to go that far. With his expertise planning, he would have the woman in his bed the first night she arrived in the Keys.
He made sure everything was to his choosing though. He never chose a woman who was not desirable to him. He didn't think he could fake his desire. After all he was a man in every sense of the word. He had requested Betty send him pictures of herself so he could tell if she were desirable. And she was! Yes, she would make the perfect victim.
Betty's plane arrived on time and Al picked her up and they embraced like old friends reuniting. She snuggled up in his arms like it was just the place she belonged forever, and he let her do it. He was playing his role perfectly.
To all appearances he had plenty of money. He lived in a beautiful home and drove a nice car. No one would ever suspect how he came about all that money. All his crimes had been committed in the Florida Islands. Not one of his victims had ever refused his invitation to come meet him and see what happened from there.
For the most part his plans always worked the same with only minor changes in the plots. He had done it so much it became easy for him to recreate the same story with each new woman.
They were all pretty, they were all rich, and they had no children or family to inquire of them later.
He would talk her into transferring her money to his bank account, making it a joint account briefly. They would live together for awhile and one day they would go out sailing, as they often did, but she would never return. He meticulously disposed of the bodies on the many uninhabited islands in the Keys. Not once had anyone ever questioned him about anything. He kept to himself and had no close friends in his life, as he always suspected people who tried to get too close or of being too snoopy. He had built his home on his own private island paradise. He had everything anyone could want there. It was like his own private Eden. Women loved it!
Betty Jones seemed to be no different than any of his other victims. She was in his bed the first night. She fell right into his plans. They shared everything together. She was hooked on Al just as the others were. They went sailing each day and swam in the warm, blue waters. They enjoyed his island paradise to its full capacity. Betty even sugggested she move in with him. She wrote back to a realtor to sell her place with all its furnishings, that she was staying in Florida with her new lover. Everything was working out according to his plans. Soon he would have all her money in his bank account and the time of her demise would come shortly afterwards.
Betty changed her bank account to Al's bank in the Keys. Now theirs was a joint account. Either of them could take money out of the account at any time either of them chose to do so.
Al was happy that he was a much richer man now than he had been a few weeks ago. Betty seemed totally happy too. But why shouldn't she be? He was everything she had ever hoped to find in a man and this was Paradise.
Al decided the time was right to murder Betty and dispose of her body. He chose the island to bury her body on and told her they were going sailing to one of the private islands the next day. Betty offered to make them a private picnic basket to take with them. While she was in the kitchen preparing their picnic, Al was going over his plans one final time. He knew the importance of being absolutely sure one does not get careless and make one flaw that could lead to their incarceration later. They would sail to the island he chose and have their lunch. Then he would give her a Mickey Finn to drink and dispose of her body. Even if someone found the body later there would be no evidence to tie him to killing her. He could always say that they had had a relationship and she had left him after awhile. He didn't hear from her after that.
Betty brought the picnic basket into the room and hugged Al warmly. She looked into his eyes. If she sensed anything she did not let on. They left the island on his nice sailboat and headed for the island Al had chosen for their rendezvous with death.
They reached the island not long thereafter and spread a blanket and enjoyed their picnic lunch.
He served Betty the drink with the sleeping potion in it. She went to sleep in his arms. He dug the hole for her body and covered it up. Then he went back and lay down on the blanket and took a short nap. Everything had gone perfect in every way. Once again he had committed the perfect crime.
He boarded his sailboat and headed back to his own private island home. Once he was back there, he felt a tremendous relief at having accomplished once again his perfect murder.
Al decided he must celebrate the occasion, so he picked his favorite year Champagne, and poured himself a drink. He finished the whole bottle when he heard a knock at his door.
It was Western Union with a telegram for him.
He gave the man a tip and he left. Al closed the door and opened the telegram. It was from Betty.
Here is what it said:
"Al, dear,
if you read this telegram, it means that what I sensed about you was right, that you were planning on killing me and I am now dead. I just wanted to tell you that I will get my revenge on you though. Somewhere in your home is a boobytrap that I made just for you. When you find it, you will be dead too, Al.
Love,
Betty"
A booby trap? She had to be lying. She was with him most all the time. There was no way she could have set up something like that. But come to think of it, after everyone of their sailing trips, the doorbell had rung and Betty had gone to answer the door. What if she had sent these telegrams all along just in case he had done her in? She intercepted them all and never let him know what was being done. But tonite she was not there to intercept the telegram.
He must search his house to find the booby trap.
Al searched carefully for wires or hidden devices but found nothing. He decided again that she must have been lying. Surely that was her revenge, to make him worry whether she had actually booby trapped his home. He sat down to have another bottle of his favorite Champagne.
He toasted Betty, "Here's to you, Betty, my love!" And he drank the entire bottle.
Within a few minutes of ingesting this last bottle of Champagne, he began to gasp for breath. He realized now what Betty had done. She had put some kind of tasteless poison in his Champagne, knowing that he would eventually drink it and die. He hadn't even noticed the bottle being tampered with.
Oh, Betty, you are very good! Al thought.
With his final gasps for breath, he realized no one would come looking for him either. And so he died!
Betty had gotten her ultimate revenge on Al.
