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Authors: David McCaffrey

BOOK: Hellbound: The Tally Man
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Dr. John Franklin, BS.c. HONS, PH.D. M.A., M.CLIN, PSYCH. A.F.PS.S.I.

Case Number: 01020541/27

Subject: Stark, Obadiah James (a.k.a. The Tally Man) cont.

Victim history continued:

During 1989, Obadiah was in Louisiana, living in a flat located in St. Helena’s Parish, Baton Rouge. A fairly small parish, Obadiah committed four more murders between the months of March and December 1989. Julie Robinson, Hazel DeMarco, Tammy Porto and Claire Jackson all lived within a ten-mile radius of Obadiah’s place of residence. At the time, Obadiah had gained part-time employment for a local real estate agency where he organised portfolios for the proprietor. He also obtained a job working behind a local bar, the latter job providing a perfect location to observe and meet local women.

Now offered a large playground to prowl and pretend to live a normal life and, having been freed from not only his parents influence but also the authority of the state, Obadiah could now do whatever he wished and go wherever he liked without danger of reprisal. During this period, all evidence points towards Obadiah projecting the image of a quiet and hard working employee. He had a number of girlfriends during this period, many of whom are reported as having described Obadiah as an almost introverted character until you established a rapport with him when he seemed to come out of ‘his shell’ and exhibit a personality that was both charming and self-effacing. This is supported by a small number of people who socialised with Obadiah, saying that he seemingly thrived on the opportunity to share common interests he had, namely reading and sports. Conversely, some of his fellow employees recall that Obadiah was seen to be a loner, and often arrogant at times.

A perfect example of Obadiah’s social skills and interpersonal manner presenting themselves in order to purely serve his desires and need for manipulation, it also illustrates the paradoxical nature of the sociopath; the more sophisticated they are in regards to their behavioural control and ability to project a normal life, the more dangerous they are. Indeed, Obadiah’s relationships with women supported his deceitful pursuit of a relatively normal existence.

It was 17th March 1989 that the body of Julie Robinson, a 25 year old student from Louisiana State University was found in a secluded part of the campus. She had been brutality stabbed eighteen times and left in overgrown section of the grounds. The subject admitted to her murder during our session together, marking it as the first time he had confirmed his long suspected involvement.

Later that year, on the morning of 2nd July 1989, Obadiah stalked and murdered 28 year old supermarket worker Hazel DeMarco. Her body was found four days later in a field just outside St. Helena’s Parish. One particularly disturbing aspect of her murder was that, during her autopsy, the coroner determined that she had not died from the multiple stab wounds to her body but from strangulation. This meant that she had been alive when Obadiah had decided to make her death more intimate by physically using his own strength to take her life. During the interview, Obadiah admitted he had expected her to die from the stab wounds, but that when she hadn’t, he decided to finish her “the old fashioned way. Up close and personal.” Asked by this author if he could recall anything specific about Hazel such as clothing or her physical appearance, Obadiah stated he couldn’t remember any details and responded by saying “she was just another peasant. What the fuck do you want me to say?…one less burden on the societal system if you ask me.”

The increased police presence in St. Helena’s Parish did little to deter Obadiah’s thirst for neither killing nor his continued façade of a reliable and trustworthy employee, his calculating nature providing a further layer to his virtual anonymity -anonymity that lead to another murder only months later.

The last time anyone saw Tammy Porto alive was on the evening of Thursday 28th September 1989. She was reportedly seen driving home after leaving her friends at a local bar. A man seen in her car was later identified as her boyfriend and was subsequently ruled out as a suspect when it was established that he had been dropped off by Tammy earlier in the journey, for which he had an alibi.

Her remains were discovered on Monday 6th November by some ramblers in a field four miles from where she lived and less than three from Obadiah’s house. Her body was in such a state of decomposition that she could only be identified by her dental records. Markings found on some of Tammy’s ribs and sternum indicated immense pressure had been applied to the murder weapon in order to cause such trauma to the skeleton.

During all of this, Obadiah’s routine of normalcy continued unabated, with the now increased media focus on the spate of local murders neither affecting his progress at work nor murderous proclivities. He continued to socialise and date girls, ignorant of the fact that these aspects of establishing and maintaining interpersonal relationships, social awareness and communication skills, were also dichotic, at once sensitising and desensitising Obadiah’s ability to relate to other people. Regardless of his criminal conduct or social situation, Obadiah was learning to cognitively isolate himself in relation to the murders. His increasingly idiosyncratic thoughts, behaviour and deliberate indifference all contributed to his colleagues at his place of employment noting that Obadiah was becoming more aloof and arrogant, supporting the theory that at this stage in his ‘becoming’, he had already begun to compartmentalise what he considered his normal life and his murderous one.

By now, the police knew they had a serial killer on their hands, but because of the distance and time between the murders of Lauren Tolson and Angelina Tegan and the most recent three victims, the police couldn’t be certain that they were linked. Obadiah was routinely interviewed by the police in connection with the murders, but his charm and ability for emotive disarmament meant that he was never considered a suspect.

Excerpt taken from interview with Elizabeth Barlow (fellow employee at real estate agency):

“He always seemed kinda shy…almost humble. Never looked you in the eyes when talking to you…really intellectual. You could never have believed he could do the things the press reported him as having done. I mean, he was a regular ‘boy-next-door’ type, ya know? If I had ever been walking down a dark alley at night and turned round to find Obadiah Stark behind me, I would have been relieved. He was that normal….good looking too.”

It was around this time that Obadiah chose to have applied the now infamous tattoo that would be the primary factor in the choosing of his media nickname. Obadiah told me that he decided to get the tattoo in order to “see, every day, the fruits of my labour. This way, their lives would forever be remembered and recorded throughout history. I gave them immortality. They would never be forgotten.”

He ended his year with another ‘tally’ added to his tattoo, the murder of Claire Jackson, an 18 year old student from Southern University. Her body was found on 22nd December 1989, washed ashore off the Amite River, a tributary of Lake Maurepas. Partially decomposed, Claire was discovered with the knife used to murder her still embedded in her sternum up to its hilt. No forensic evidence was found due to her body’s time spent in the water, though they were able to establish a probable two day window as to her time of death.

Excerpt taken from interview with Obadiah Stark (dated 17th April 2010):

“Many people would find it difficult to comprehend hurting someone and then feeling nothing…no regret, remorse or guilt. I found my niche… you have no idea how it feels to have control over the lives of others. I’m not sadistic. Yeah, I enjoyed the power I had over others, but I didn’t take pleasure in their humiliation or hurting them. My pleasure came from slipping through the cracks, in being invisible, in killing without getting caught, in manipulating others into serving my own ends.

“When you’re a skilled manipulator of people, you know that most humans fool themselves constantly—that’s partly why they’re so easily fooled by me.”

‘I think one’s feelings waste themselves in words; they ought all to be distilled into actions which bring results.’

Florence Nightingale

Chapter Ten

14:56

THE sky was a mixture of light blue hues and cumulus clouds which the sun was fighting to fracture apart as Eva and Ellie led Obadiah back towards the centre of town, having just left Killarney National Park. The park, one of Ireland’s remaining few that had been continuously covered in woodland since the end of the glacial period, had the accolade of being home to the country’s only remaining wild herd of native Red Deer. They had managed to spot one, much to Ellie’s squealing delight, whilst walking across one of the surfaced paths to Muckross Island.

Obadiah had always appreciated nature’s innate ferocity to survive. Such an environment appealed to the feral aspect of his personality, reinforcing to him that even the most innocuous and inconspicuous forms of life could take hold and threaten to alter the world around them forever. The park itself held a perfect illustration of this. It almost seemed illogical that something as simple as animal grazing could present perhaps the greatest threat to its ecology.

Grazing had caused damage to the terrestrial habitats and, with the extinction of the parks natural predators such as the wolf and Golden Eagle, had caused the spread of Rhododendron, a fairly common plant. Spread easily by seed dispersal, the plant shades the ground flora and prevents regeneration of the native woodland species. As light cannot penetrate the dense thickets, few plants can survive beneath it, and therefore the park’s oak woods cannot regenerate. That such an inoffensive plant could hold sway over the life and death of an ecosystem amused Obadiah. A naturally occurring phenomenon following its natural evolutionary course, and therefore destroying life. He could relate.

Eva’s voice broke his introspection. “So, what do you fancy doing tonight? I thought we could pop over and see Mark. He’s rang a few times and invited us over for a few drinks, and Ellie is going over to my mother’s so when we got back the house would be empty…” She left her insinuation hanging in the air.

“Mark? Thorne?” Obadiah, ignoring Eva’s suggestive tone, recalled the man’s death at his hands his first day here. He had momentarily forgotten that everything had reset since then.

Shit. I already killed him once.

“I think I’ll decline.”

Eva ushered Ellie towards her and stopped to button her coat collar. “Has something happened between you two?” she asked Obadiah. “I thought you got on well.”

“There is nothing he could say to me that would be remotely interesting.”

Eva stopped, a look of disappointment falling across her face as she took note of Obadiah’s contemptuous smile. “Since when did you become such an arrogant arse? He’s been nothing but kind to us since you fell ill.”

Irritated at her tone, Obadiah stepped towards Eva, his large frame seemingly reducing hers by a size or two and forcing her to lean back on her heels before he began walking again. She sighed with frustration before quickening her pace to catch him up, pulling Ellie hurriedly beside her.

“Don’t walk away from me, Obadiah. What’s gotten into you? Ever since you left the doctors you’ve been quiet. What is it? What did she say?”

He smiled. “Nothing interesting. Doctors…they always think they’re the smartest person in the room. It this case, she was wrong. It was me.” he replied.

“So,” Eva pushed, ignoring Obadiah’s arrogant reply. “What is it then? We know the situation, the prognosis. We agreed we were going to try and carry on as normal as possible.”

Obadiah remained silent as he stopped for a second time and turned to face her. He noticed her expression change suddenly, as though she had momentarily seen into the darkness though an open door to his soul. As though deciding not to enter, she drew herself backwards and gripped Ellie’s hand tighter.

“Obi, you’re scaring me. Don’t spoil our day together, please”

Obadiah pursed his lips in frustration. When he had begun his journey of becoming a master at his craft, the first lesson had been to swallow your pride. After all, how could you hope to be the best at what you do if you weren’t willing to learn from those before you. Therefore, he could be patient and wear another mask if necessary, even if it meant tolerating Eva’s inanities. He already had so many faces, so maintaining one of a loving father and husband shouldn’t pose too much of a problem.

“I’m…sorry.” The words almost caused him physical pain, but he forced a broad smile to sell them, indicating acquiescence at Eva’s request.

Cautiously put at ease by his demeanour, Eva returned a small grin and sidled up to Obadiah, laying her hand on his arm. He made no response. “Look, we don’t have to go to Mark’s if you don’t want to. After I drop Ell’s off we can just get a bottle of wine and stick on a DVD.”

His irritation rapidly becoming boredom, Obadiah was surprised to find Eva’s suggestion appealing. He remembered the last film he had seen was The Towering Inferno in 1974 when he was seven years old. He had bunked out of school with Tom Jacques to visit the cinema on East Avenue, and had found himself lost in a burning building with Newman and McQueen. It was one of the few times that Obadiah could remember actually being a child.

“That sounds good actually,” he responded genuinely.

The wind had begun to pick up as they walked through the centre of town and towards the avenue that led home.

Home.

It was fascinating that Obadiah was already using that word to describe the house he had woken up in on the past three occasions. Despite having grown up there, he had never considered it home. Home was a word that had connotations well beyond bricks and mortar. It implied a place of security and warmth, something never guaranteed when he was young. Yet now, perhaps he could instead describe it as the place where something was waiting to be discovered. Where he was discovering a hidden part of himself.

Ellie had run ahead of them both, ignoring Eva’s chasing pleas to be careful, as Obadiah once again took in the surrounding panorama. As a child, he had given little thought to the world around him, his efforts often taken up with simply avoiding a beating from his father. It had been at a fairly young age when he had realised he was different, that the rules of society need not necessarily apply to him. But now, back here, he realised that he had perhaps been unkind to his childhood memories. Beginning to wonder if taking the time to appreciate beauty around him could have lessened the pain he had suffered on an almost daily basis, he considered whether it could have changed who he became. Perhaps finding something pleasurable in his childhood could have tempered his apathy towards all that became his formative years, the ultimate tipping point for his rebirth as The Tally Man.

Almost at once, Obadiah felt it brushing across every pore of his skin, the change in the flow of air around them. Something was about to occur. The world around him seemed to slow to a third of its normal speed, the movement of life becoming an out of body vision that he had no ability to interact with.

The red Audi was accelerating up the avenue, its driver on his mobile phone. Ellie was heading out to the middle of the road, trying to grab hold of some branches that she had the intention of using to sweep leaves with. Herself unaware of the approaching car, she had bent down, smiling with victory at the collection of her prize. Eva’s face had slowly contorted into horror with the fear of what she could see about to happen. She was looking towards Obadiah, screaming, but he heard no sound, only a dull thrum of virtual silence that burrowed its way into his brain. Eva was moving towards her daughter, and in that moment, he experienced something profound - as though his very soul had suddenly become a battleground for something greater.

Moving with the speed of an athlete and the precision of a dancer, Obadiah scooped Ellie up and bounded onto the other side of the road, the car missing his legs by inches as it careened onto the pavement. Eva had begun to scream out towards them both, her cries for knowledge her daughter was safe piercing Obadiah’s ears. Ellie held him tightly, chilled tears falling against his neck, warm, fast breaths causing goose bumps across his body. Her tiny body was shaking with the adrenaline coursing through it. Obadiah’s expression leaked nothing of the satisfaction he felt at Ellie not having died. He was still trying to comprehend it as Eva approached, virtually snatching Ellie from around his neck and gripping her in vice-like bear hold.

“Oh my god, Jesus, Ellie. Baby, are you okay? It’s okay, sweetie, it’s okay…”

Her voice was frantic as she held her daughter’s face in her hands and looked in to her eyes.

“Oh baby, we thought we were going to lose you. You know never, ever to go into the road. What were you thinking?” Eva’s voice was not angry, simply direct.

Ellie didn’t speak, her voice restricted by the huge sobs that were coming from her in between gulps of air. She was holding tightly onto Eva’s neck, as though afraid her mother would disappear. Obadiah stood motionless by the side of the road, his gaze having fallen on the car mounted on the pavement, its driver shaking as he tried to open the car door. Though impassionate, he could feel his frustration at having been inconvenienced by such a random act of unpredictability. Normally, such careless, human behaviour stimulated feelings no more intense than mild amusement. Today was different. Today, he had been part of a new experience teaching him a new facet of his personality. Yet this creature before him had seen fit to interrupt Obadiah’s education by simply not looking where he was going. It would be a pleasure to kill him slowly.

As the driver approached with his arms outstretched in a conciliatory gesture, Obadiah intercepted him in two strides, grabbing him by the neck and throwing him to the ground as he gasped an apology.

“I’m sorry, I’m so very sorry. I didn’t see her? Is she okay?…”

Obadiah ignored the tremor of fear in the man’s voice.

“You have no idea what you have just done, you pathetic worm,” Obadiah spat as he tightened his grip on the man’s neck and leaned in closer. “I am not a man with whom to fuck”

The driver tried to pull himself free of Obadiah’s grip, but it tightened like a vice. He learned down and stared into the man’s eyes, his face serene and at the same time, maintaining a dark expression that was barely comprehendible.

Ellie’s voice resonated through Obadiah. Having climbed down from her mother’s arms, she was stood behind him, her arms outstretched in a pleading fashion. “Daddy, don’t hurt him. Please can I have an up? I’m frightened…I need a cuddle.”

Still holding the man by the neck, Obadiah stood to face Ellie. Her face was red and tear streaked, her slight body shaking with all the emotion coursing through her. He found himself caught in the shimmering pool of her eyes, captivated by a little girl’s purity of thought. Impassive, he struggled against the sensation that was fighting to flood his brain. Why had he saved her? Why had he risked his life for someone who was of no consequence to him? He had no bond with her, only a superficial excuse for acknowledgement of her presence. Yet, he found himself continuing to wonder why he had interceded at all. He had never before considered saving another person’s life, believing his power was in taking it not granting it. But the power he felt at having granted someone a reprieve from death was almost as intoxicating.

Ellie had slowly moved in front of him, holding onto his leg as she began to cry again. Obadiah looked down at her and then stared at the man he held in the grip of his right hand. He sensed Eva approaching them and looked up to see her wiping her face with the heel of her palms. Her eyes were red, face drained of colour and wracked with fatigue due to the emotional toll. A few cars that had been passing moments following the incident had stopped just ahead, their occupants having left their cars and walking over to offer assistance.

“Obi,” she sniffed. “Let him go. Don’t make it worse. I just want to go home.”

“Make it worse? You honestly want me to let him go, consequence free?” He found the concept of not hurting him hard to assimilate.

“What will it solve?” Eva had moved to pick up Ellie in her arms. “Just thank God she’s okay.”

Obadiah sneered at what he considered weakness. He found himself struggling to even contemplate not hurting the man. Pulling him up to his feet, Obadiah drew the driver so close, their noses where virtually touching. He smelt the alcohol on his breath.

“You’re the luckiest fuck in the world,” he stated coldly. “I can smell the drink, you know. So if you even consider moving from here before you have reported yourself to the Gardaí, I will hunt you down, I will find you and I will kill you.” He moved the man around so that he could whisper in his ear. “And whatever you imagine it would be like…it will be worse.”

Obadiah released his grip, letting the man drop to the floor. He stepped over the crumpled heap as Ellie reached out from her mother’s arms towards him. He hesitated, uncertain how to react, but interested as to how it would make him feel. He took her from Eva, arms wrapping tightly around his neck as she pulled her face into the space between his neck and shoulder. Speaking from her position, her voice was muffled.

“I’m sorry, Daddy. I’m sorry I ran into the road. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.”

Obadiah initially had no response. Such a sincere apology was alien to him. Ellie pulled onto him tighter, his arms remaining supportive beneath her small body.

“Sssh…it’s okay. Don’t worry.”

He heard himself say the words, but didn’t understand why or where they had come from. He had always had an ability to say the right thing, using it to lure people into his confidence. But the strange thing in this instance was that he thought he actually meant it.

Obadiah felt his head beginning to throb at the shear nature of the implications his thoughts suggested. Eva was beside him, trying to gently lead him away from the road and onto the pavement. His arms still supporting Ellie as she clung to his neck, Obadiah remained focused on the driver of the car, now sat on the side of the road, his head in his hands. He looked up just as they passed by him, and became transfixed by the look in Obadiah’s eyes. As though the stare exerted a physical effect on him, he seemed to shrink back, his face expressing defeat and weakness simultaneously. Obadiah stopped and held the gaze for a beat before continuing on, ignoring the queries around him from concerned passers wishing to render assistance. He needed to be home. He had to work through that myriad of thoughts that were cascading throughout his brain.

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