E. Paul Bergeron

Don’t Ever Hire a Serial Killer

Robert Liberty liked to kill people.

Looking back at it after all these years I’d have to say Bob didn’t look the part. He didn’t act any different from any other applicant for the job.

I should have known to steer clear of him when I reviewed his application form. No work experience for the last three year, claiming he had been in the hospital.

Okay, so I went further down the form to where it asked if he had ever been arrested.  He checked the “yes” box. The next line asked for what and he had filled in for “murder.” When I asked him to explain, as if this were needed at this point, he said they had labeled to him the “Candlelight Killer.” He had murdered his girlfriend and they found her body on a couch, with a bible on her chest, and Bob sitting nearby strumming his guitar.

I’ll have to admit that this was a first for me, but being young and somewhat bored with my job I let him explain.  The hospital he had spent the last three years in was a mental institute, he having been judged insane at his trial. But he assured me he was fine now, and six psychiatrists had agreed. So they turned him loose and I hired him. Who was I to question his sanity when six shrinks said he was no longer a menace to society?

Bob was a good worker. Maybe a little hyper, too anxious to please, but I wasn’t complaining. He spoke about owing his mother a lot and said he was living with her.

As it turned out Bob still had a few screws loose. He did it again, and he had the audacity to do it while he was working for me.

One morning he called to thank me for giving him the job, but said his mother had taken ill and that he had to care for her.

The little bugger lied to me. He had knocked off another victim and had decided to leave town in a hurry.

A few months later the San Diego Police discovered another corpse surrounded by candles, with a note beside the body stating, “the candlelight killer strikes again.”

They finally caught up with Robert Liberty and incarcerated him. I later heard his cellmate put Bob out of his misery one night. Probably got a little nervous when he discovered Bob was storing candles under his mattress.

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