occuserpens (occuserpens) wrote,
occuserpens
occuserpens

Кросавчег

Он был красив, у нее были деньги. Они пережили ураган. Она его наняла, чтобы он развлекал клиентов. Он ее убил, сварил, но съесть так и не съел. Вместо этого Кросавчег вкратце описал все, что произошло, и, в конце концов, покончил с собoй.

Что самое удивительное в этой истории, это насколько трудно перевести ее с изобразительного языка 1930х гг на современный. Компьютерные эффекты здесь практически бесполезны, даже цвет не так уж критичен. Кроме ланговского экспрессионизма, в общем ничего не нужно!

David Usborne. Murder most mysterious: The house of horror in New Orleans

It begins on Tuesday. A guest at the luxury Omni Hotel in the heart of the Quarter notices a body on the roof of a parking garage below his window, an apparent suicide victim.

The jumper was Mr Bowen, 28, a California native, who told friends he had served in Iraq and Afghanistan before settling in New Orleans. He had met Ms Hall, also 28, during the Katrina crisis and fallen in love. Both bartenders in the Quarter, they achieved their 15 minutes of national fame. Profiles of the pair appeared in newspapers, including The New York Times.

There was an obvious appeal to their adventure. There were perhaps 150 people still clinging on in the Quarter in the weeks immediately after the storm, defying an order by the city to leave. Hall and Bowen lived in a small apartment on Governor Nicholls Street, surviving on hoarded food and sheer determination. They had no electricity, telephone or fresh water, but they could get by and were happy.

One local bar-owner this week explained that she had hired Bowen as "eye candy for the ladies" after meeting him. "The customers loved him," she said. "Everyone loved him."

Video retrieved from an outside security camera at the Omni reveals the tall young man with light brown hair over his ears repeatedly approaching the edge of a high terrace near its roof-top swimming pool, before retreating to safety each time and pacing in circles. But, finally, he plunges into thin air.

When the police reached the body of Bowen on the garage roof they found a small plastic bag in a trouser pocket with a five-page, hand-written note inside. The dead man knew they would have work to do and he wanted to make it easier for them. He had jotted down directions to an address on North Rampart Street on the edge of the Quarter, the apartment above the voodoo shop.

Opening the oven door, investigators found her arms and legs arranged in turkey pans. At least one of them, a source told the newspaper, had been seasoned with herbs. Finally, they discovered the bloody torso, stuffed into a black rubbish liner and stored in the couple's fridge.

Bowen had left behind a far more intricate account written over eight pages of his former girlfriend's personal journal. He meant it, apparently, as a formal confession sufficient even for a court of law. The top began with his stating his name, his date of birth and even his social security and driving licence numbers.

"Today is Monday 16 October 2 am," he wrote. "I killed her at 1 am Thursday 5 October. I very calmly strangled her. It was very quick." He wrote that he had sexually violated the body several times after the strangling and that thereafter he drank himself into oblivion, eventually dropping unconscious to the floor.

The next morning he went to work as usual, delivering groceries around the Quarter. On his return home, he moved the body to the bathroom, placed it in the bath, and proceeded to dice it with a kitchen knife and a handsaw. According to his notes, he stopped what he was doing when only half-way done.

A few days later, on 9 October, he resumed the butchery, set the air-conditioning thermostat at 60 degrees and falling upon the idea of cooking his victim, put the hands, feet and head in the two pots filled with water. Police said he cleaned the bathroom, which they found spick and span.

In late September, they were thrown out of their home on Governor Nicholls Street and applied to take the tenancy of the North Rampart Street flat for $750 GBP400) a month.

The landlord, Leo Watermeier, told police that shortly after the pair moved in, a dispute broke out.

The row was over the lease and whose names should be on it. Ms Hall told the landlord only her name should appear because her boyfriend had been unfaithful. Mr Watermeier said she told him: "I caught him cheating on me, and I am kicking him out of this apartment."

Soon afterwards, the same day, Bowen approached Mr Watermeier in a state of high agitation. "He said, 'Did you just let her sign a lease alone? Because I'm screwed. I'm totally messed up now. She's trying to kick me out of the apartment'," Mr Watermeier reported. That night, as we now know, Bowen solved his problem. A dead girlfriend could not put him on the streets.

...an autopsy of Bowen's body found no trace of human flesh in his digestive system. Cannibalism may have been implied but apparently did not happen.
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