I'm still sitting in my office, piled high with files, trying to sort through another batch of papers from Earl Knight. Honestly, the guy is possessed, going through old files like he's looking for the philosopher's stone. Now I have the case of Alexander Martin, the kid from Toronto, and damn, I don't understand why Earl even dragged Canada into this. We're digging into child deaths in the States, and he's dragged some Canadian kid into this. But reading through his notes, letters, and telegrams, I'm beginning to realize that this lead is not just there. Alexander, like Laura and Isaac, died of some atypical crap, and Earl seemed to notice something that connected them all. I fished out details from his letters, telegrams from the Toronto Police Department, and conversations with neighbors, the guardian's girlfriends, and the kid's peers. It's like a puzzle where half the pieces are missing, but it still gives you goosebumps.
Biography of Alexander Martin, Toronto, Canada
Based on letters from Earl Knight, Toronto police telegrams, interviews with neighbours, caregiver's friends and peers, 1990-2000
Alexander Martin was born on March 15, 1990, in Toronto, Ontario, in the Scarborough area of gray high-rises interspersed with neat lawns and Tim Hortons signs. His mother, Emily Martin, 24, died in childbirth from hemorrhaging before Mount Sinai Hospital could save her. His father, Jean Martin, a French-Canadian electrical engineer, died of leukemia in 1994, when Alexander was four. His stepmother, Ruth Lavoie, 38, a fanatical member of the Children of Light cult, took custody of him and lived in a modest bungalow on the outskirts of Scarborough. Ruth's house was littered with brochures on "spiritual awakening," smelled of incense, and in the evenings she sang hymns with her cult friends while Alexander hid in his room with hockey cards.
Note from David S.: Toronto? Seriously, Earl? We're digging through Houston and Miami files, and you're dragging a kid from Canada. Why? I read his letter to Elizabeth Crowe, dated March 20, 2000, and he says he found Alexander's file through a contact in the Canadian police, an Inspector LeClair. He sent a telegram with a brief description: "Boy, age 9, spinal sarcoma, diagnosis unclear, died February 2000." Earl noticed the coincidence of the age and the oddity of the diagnosis, like Laura and Isaac. But why is he so hung up on it? Maybe because Alexander is the last in the chain, and Earl thinks he's the key?
Alexander grew up in the shadow of Ruth's strict rules. She forbade television, considering it "a vessel of sin," but Alexander would secretly watch hockey games on a small black-and-white set owned by a neighbour, Mr Campbell. At school, Satec Public School, he was quiet, but teachers noted his cleverness at mathematics. A teacher, Mr Paul Graham, recalled in an interview with police in February 2000: "Alex was thin, pale, but intelligent. He liked to draw geometric shapes in his notebook - circles, spirals, like some kind of code." His peers, Josh Reed, 10, the son of a butcher, and Michael Chen, 9, the son of a china shop owner, were his only friends. They called him "Hockey" because Alexander dreamed of playing for the Toronto Maple Leafs, but Ruth forbade the sport, considering it "vanity of the flesh." Josh said (Knight interview, March 2000): "Alex would hide hockey cards under his bed, especially Mats Sundin's. We would play hockey outside when Ruth wasn't looking, but he would get tired quickly and hold his back."
Note from David S.: Hockey cards and spirals in a notebook? Looks like the kid was trying to escape this cult life into his dreams. But what did Earl see in this case? LeClair's telegram says: "Alexander's symptoms are similar to American cases - atypical tumor, age 9-10." Earl writes in a letter to Elizabeth that he was wary of Ruth's cult - he thought maybe they were poisoning the kid with something. But that's crazy, right?
Ruth Lavoie took Alexander to Children of the Light meetings in the basement of her home, where fellow cult members Madeleine Dubois, 45, and Sophie Leboeuf, 33, sang hymns and waved candles. Madeleine, a former nurse fired for stealing medication, claimed that "light heals" and made Alexander drink herbal tea with mint and mugwort. Sophie, a flower stall owner, taught him to "pray to snakes" by holding harmless snakes. Neighbours, Scarborough purists like John and Martha Campbell, 60 and 58, condemned Ruth. Martha told police in January 2000: "This woman is crazy. She took a boy to her meetings and he looked sick. We offered to take him to a doctor, but she screamed that God himself would save him." John added: "Alex was like a shadow, pale, hunched over, as if he were carrying a sack of bricks. We prayed for him, but Ruth rejected our faith."
Note from David S.: Cultists with snakes? What kind of circus is this? Earl writes in his notes that he checked the Children of Light through LeClair - the cult is registered, but under investigation for "animal rituals". He thinks that herbs or snakes could have influenced Alexander's illness, but that's nonsense, right? Although, if Laura and Isaac also had strange symptoms... Maybe Earl is not such a psycho to connect all this?
From 1998 (Alexander was 8 years old) teachers noticed that he began to complain of back pain. Mr Graham recalled: "He would sit in class holding his lower back, saying his back was 'on fire'. I thought he had pulled a muscle, but he was hunched over more and more." Josh and Michael said that Alexander had stopped playing hockey in the street and would just watch them rollerblade, wincing in pain. Madeleine Dubois testified in February 2000 that "prayers were healing him", but Sophie Leboeuf admitted to police: "Alex was weak, coughing, and Ruth said it was the devil testing him." Neighbours of the Campbells noticed that in his last months Alexander looked "like an old man": his skin was grey, his eyes were sunken, his hair was falling out in clumps. Martha Campbell said: "He was like a ghost, walking, leaning against the fence, muttering something as if he was praying to himself."
Note from David S.: Mumbling like Laura? Is that a coincidence? Earl wrote to LeClair (March 15, 2000): "Alexander's symptoms - paleness, hair loss, muttering - are almost identical to Laura Smith. This is not a coincidence." He requested medical records through the Canadian police, and LeClair confirmed that the diagnosis of "atypical sarcoma" matches the American cases. But why Toronto? Earl thinks geography doesn't matter as long as the pathology is the same. Hell, maybe he's right?
In July 1999, Ruth Lavoie died during a Children of Light ritual. According to the police report (July 10, 1999), she had been handling poisonous snakes (rattlesnakes, smuggled in from Mexico) and had been bitten multiple times. She died at 10:30 p.m. from anaphylactic shock. Alexander, who was present at the ritual, was in shock; Madeleine Dubois called an ambulance, but it was too late. The police took Alexander to his cousin, Julie Lavoie, 22, a student at the University of Toronto. Julie, unlike Ruth, was an atheist and immediately noticed that something was wrong with Alexander. She told the police (January 2000): "He could barely walk, he was holding his back, his eyes were cloudy, like a sick dog. I made him go to the doctor even though he was scared."
Note from David S.: Snakes? This is not a cult, but a madhouse. Earl writes in his notes that Ruth's death alarmed him - too strange a coincidence with other guardians who died absurdly (crane, guillotine). He asked Leclerc for information about the ritual, and he sent a telegram: "Cult under investigation, snakes are contraband, the boy was a witness." Earl thinks that the trauma of Ruth's death could have worsened Alexander's illness. But I don't believe it - it's not stress, it's something physical, like Laura.
Alexander was admitted to SickKids Hospital in Toronto on January 10, 2000, after Julie found him lying on the floor of his room, unable to stand. Paramedics arrived at 9:15 a.m., according to a Toronto police report. An initial examination (Dr. Alan Cohen, orthopedic surgeon) revealed severe spinal deformity, muscle loss, and hypotension (blood pressure 85/55). Nurse Emma Lee noted, "The patient's skin is pale, with a gray-green tint, hair loss, pupils dilated, and poor reactivity to light." Julie told doctors that Alexander complained of "fire in his back" and saw "bright flashes" before his eyes. A CT scan (GE Medical, 1998) showed a large mass in the thoracic spine with abnormal calcifications and necrotic areas. Diagnosis: "atypical sarcoma of the spine." Biopsy performed on January 12 (drugs: fentanyl, propofol) revealed tissue with an irregular cellular structure. Pathologist Dr. Susan Wong wrote: "Cells are polymorphic, mitotic index is high (11 mitoses per field), markers (ALP, RUNX2) are partially present, but not consistent with standard sarcomas."
Note from David S.: Gray-green skin, flashes in eyes? Much like Laura with her "transparent skin" and mumbling. Earl in a letter to Elizabeth (March 20, 2000) writes: "Alexander's symptoms are identical to the American cases - paleness, abnormal growths. This is not a coincidence." He found the case through LeClair, who put him in touch with SickKids. A telegram from February 25, 2000 confirms: "Diagnosis unclear, similarities to U.S." Earl is right - this is not just a coincidence, but what the hell is it?
Alexander was given dexamethasone and morphine, but his condition worsened. On 10 February 2000, he went into a coma after a series of seizures. He died at 3:10 a.m. on 15 February 2000 from respiratory failure, caused, according to the autopsy (Dr. Wong, 16 February), by "an unspecified pathological process". The funeral was arranged by Julie in Scarborough, at St. John's Norway Cemetery. The Campbells' neighbours attended, but, in Martha's words, "prayed for his soul, not for Ruth, that godless woman". Josh and Michael left a Mats Sundin hockey card at the grave.
Note from David S.: Earl has found the key to this case, and I'm beginning to understand why he's so hung up on Alexander. LeClair's letter (March 15, 2000) and the hospital telegram confirm: the diagnosis is "atypical sarcoma" and the symptoms (paleness, hair loss, muttering) are identical to Laura and Isaac. Earl writes that the acronym D.E.L.I.A. began to form when he found Alexander - his "A" fit into the puzzle. But I'm still shocked: how did he connect Canada with the States? It's not his jurisdiction. Maybe he's just obsessed, or is there something more to it?
Neighbors gathered outside Julie's home after Alexander's death, demanding answers. John Campbell told police, "We knew the boy was sick, but Ruth drove him to the grave with her prayers and snakes." Madeleine Dubois, on the other hand, blamed the doctors: "They didn't save him, and God was calling him to himself." Julie, shocked, said, "I tried to pull him out of that cult, but it was too late. He was like a candle that had burned out." Earl wrote in his notes, "Alexander is part of a chain. His death, like the others, is not accidental. The cult, the symptoms, the diagnosis - it all fits together."
Note from David S.: Earl is like Sherlock Holmes for finding this connection. But I'm sitting here thinking: are we now dragging Canada into the D.E.L.I.A. project? Someone up there probably decided that this is a great way to spend the budget on coffee and microscopes. And here I am digging into the life of a dead kid and feeling like I'm in a morgue. This isn't science, it's some kind of necrophilia.
Honestly, I'm starting to think this guy isn't just a cop with bad handwriting, but some kind of obsessive ghost hunter. Now I have the tissue report from Alexander Martin, the kid from Toronto, and I'm wondering: what the hell is the "D" in their acronym D.E.L.I.A.? Laura, Isaac, Eliza, Alexander - they all add up, but the "D"? Empty, like my wallet after a weekend. And here's another surprise: Alexander's specimens are from Canada, not the States, and their delivery to our institute is a whole saga, as if we were stealing a secret weapon from the Pentagon. Plus, my fellow scientists, as always, are making a circus with microscopes, looking for "unusualness" in Alexander's cells, which, according to them, eclipses even that mysterious first "D" specimen. Well, at least some entertainment in this morgue.
Obtaining Alexander Martin's specimens for the D.E.L.I.A. project
Based on letters from Earl Knight, Toronto police cables and internal institute memos, April 2000
Alexander Martin's tissue specimens (specimen A, Toronto, born March 15, 1990, died February 15, 2000) were delivered to our biomedical institute in New York on April 10, 2000, a month before Elizabeth Crowe dumped the papers on me for the "clean" report. Honestly, I still don't understand how they got to us in the first place - this was not a scientific request, but a real spy operation. Earl Knight, that tireless detective, started by contacting Inspector Jean LeClair of the Toronto police in March 2000. In a letter to Elizabeth Crowe (March 20, 2000), Earl wrote: "The Alexander Martin case is the key to the chain. Symptoms, diagnosis, age - all match Laura, Isaac and Eliza. But Canada is not the States, and getting the tissue was like pulling teeth from a bear." LeClair sent a telegram (February 25, 2000): "Specimens at SickKids Hospital, restricted access, Ontario Health Authority approval required."
Note from David S.: Canada? Seriously, Earl? We're dealing with Houston and Miami, and you're lugging specimens across the border? I thought our budget was bursting at the seams, and now we're dealing with Canadian bureaucracy. I read Caroline Moore's memo from April 5, 2000: she practically foamed at the mouth about the "astronomical" shipping cost. No wonder Mrs. Moore is pissed as a hornet - she probably blew her entire budget on those Canadian fabrics. Haha, I can just picture her yelling at Elizabeth for wasting money!
The delivery of the specimens turned into a quest worthy of a cheap thriller. Earl first requested access to the tissues at SickKids through LeClair, but the Canadian doctors took a stand: "Data privacy, federal laws, blah blah blah." LeClair specified in a telegram (February 28, 2000) that the Ontario Ministry of Health required written consent from the guardian (Julie Lavoie, Alexander's cousin) and approval from the ethics committee. Julie signed the permission on March 3, but the committee dragged it out until March 15, citing "international jurisdiction." Earl, not giving up, involved his contacts in the FBI, who put pressure on the Canadian police through an agreement on cross-border data exchange (NAFTA helped, who would have thought). Caroline Moore complained in a memo (April 5, 2000): "The negotiations with Canada cost us $12,000 in legal advice and transportation. These are not specimens, they are gold bars." The tissues (vertebral bone fragments, 1.3 cm and 0.8 cm) were finally shipped in an armored container by courier from Toronto to New York as if they were a nuclear warhead. They arrived on April 10, accompanied by two RCMP agents who, according to rumors, even searched our institute for "spies."
Note from David S.: $12,000 for a few bits of bone? Are we the CIA now? Caroline must be tearing her hair out - her budget is bursting, and we are messing around with Canadian specimens. But Earl wrote in a letter to LeClair (March 15, 2000) that "Canada seems to have a D.E.L.I.A. too, only they are lagging behind - we have more specimens." Ha, that's American hubris! If the Canadians have a "D.E.L.I.A.," we have more dead babies than them. Bravo, Earl, that's definitely worth a medal.
Alexander Martin's tissue analysis for the D.E.L.I.A. project Based on laboratory reports from the Biomedical Institute, April-May 2000
Alexander Martin's tissue specimens (specimen A, Toronto, died February 15, 2000) - fragments of vertebral bone (1.3 cm and 0.8 cm), removed during biopsy (January 12, 2000) and autopsy (February 16, 2000) at SickKids Hospital - were analyzed at our institute in April - May 2000. The study was performed using a Nikon Eclipse E400 microscope, a Beckman J-6B centrifuge, and a Perkin-Elmer Lambda 2 spectrophotometer, using histological and immunohistochemical methods. The purpose was to compare specimen A with specimens L (Laura Smith), I (Isaac Brown), E (Eliza Johnson), and the mysterious specimen D, about which I still know nothing except that it is "the earliest" and "the strangest."
Note from David S.: Is Specimen D the Holy Grail? Mark T. always hints at it like it's the key to everything, but never gives any specifics. I sit here rewriting their reports and wonder: If "D" is so important, why didn't anyone tell me? Or is this just another story to justify our budget to the FBI?
Histological examination revealed a neoplasm classified as sarcoma atipica, with even more "strangeness" than in specimen D, according to Mark T. The cells showed proliferatio cellularis abnormis with an extremely high mitotic index (up to 13 mitoses per high power field), polymorphic nuclei and extensive areas of necrosis focalis. Immunohistochemistry (markers ALP, RUNX2, Ki-67) showed partial expression, but no typical tumor markers such as MDM2 or ALK, characteristic of sarcomas. Mark T. wrote in his report (April 20, 2000): "Specimen A is like an evolution of specimen D. The anomalies are more pronounced, as if nature tried to build something and failed again." Linda Hayes added: "Alexander's cells are behaving as if they want to rewrite the cancer textbook, but we don't know what they're trying to do."
Note from David S.: "Evolution of Specimen D"? Mark, are you Darwin now? Before, he called Laura and Isaac "unusual," and now Alexander is the star of anomalies. What, we had normal tumors before? Ha, it's funny how they're blowing this "unusualness" out of proportion, like we've found an alien. And I'm sitting here thinking: maybe this is just a glitch in their microscope?
Comparison with other D.E.L.I.A. specimens showed that specimen A resembled L, I, and E: all showed dysplasia cellularis and irregular cell clusters, but Alexander had more angiogenesis aberrans (abnormal vascularization) than Eliza and a more chaotic cell structure than Laura and Isaac. A Perkin-Elmer Lambda 2 spectrophotometer recorded absorption spectra that did not match any known sarcoma, with peaks that Linda called "almost cosmic." Elizabeth Crowe noted in her report (April 25, 2000): "Specimen A confirms the pattern of abnormalities, but its 'weirdness' exceeds even that of specimen D. This provides no answers, only more questions."
Note from David S.: "Space" spectra? Linda, put down your coffee and stop watching The X-Files. Seriously, they keep talking about this "weirdness" as if we had normal tumors before Alexander. What's with the "D"? Why won't anyone tell me what this specimen is? It's like a puzzle where the key piece is hidden and I have to write a report for Caroline, who's yelling about the budget.
An attempt to detect mutational activity (activitas mutativa) in Alexander's cells was made in May 2000. The cells were removed from paraffin (enzymatic dissociation: trypsin, collagenase), placed in Petri dishes with DMEM culture medium and FBS serum, mixed with rat cells (line PC12). Conditions: 37°C, 5% CO₂, Thermo Forma incubator. Observation was carried out for 96 hours using a Nikon Eclipse E400 microscope. The result? As with Laura, a complete zero. Alexander's cells showed carcinoma in situ with polymorphic nuclei, but did not induce either proliferation or differentiation in the rat cells. Mark T. was furious: "These are not just cells, they are a mystery! They must do something, but something is blocking them." Linda suggested, "Maybe we can't see the mutation because our equipment is junk from the 90s?"
Note from David S.: Linda, finally the truth! Our spectrophotometer is glitching like my old Commodore 64, and they expect us to find alien DNA code. Mark again about the "mystery" - dude, this is not Sherlock Holmes, these are just dead cells. Still, if Alexander is "more unusual" than specimen D, why haven't we found anything? Maybe the Canadians are also digging around in their D.E.L.I.A. and laughing at us?
Elizabeth Crowe concluded (April 30, 2000): "Specimen A, like L, I, E, indicates a unique pathology, but without DNA sequencing we are at a dead end. Getting it from Canada was a feat, but the results were not worth the expense." The committee decided to hold off on testing on specimen A until new equipment became available, which, judging by Caroline's whining about the budget, was not coming soon.
Note from David S.: A feat? Ha, Caroline is probably still counting every penny she spent on that Canadian quest. I can just picture her yelling at Elizabeth, "$12,000 for bones that don't do anything?" And Earl must have known Alexander was the key, since he fought so hard for those specimens. But the "D" in D.E.L.I.A.? I'm still confused. Maybe this is just Earl's joke and we're scratching our heads here?
Coffee doesn't help anymore, my head is buzzing, as if someone turned on an old modem with its beeping. While I was rewriting the report on Alexander Martin, I kept trying to figure out what the hell the "D" in their acronym D.E.L.I.A. means. I decided to read coffee grounds, since science is clearly giving up here. Maybe the "D" stands for Devil? Well, then this whole project is the devil's machinations, and we, scientists, are just pawns in some hellish game. Or Demon? That also fits: these atypical tumors are like an evil spirit that eludes microscopes and laughs at us. Or maybe Dirt? Because this whole story with dead children smacks of grave soil, and rewriting reports makes me feel like a gravedigger. Or, damn it, Dummy? Because, frankly, this whole project is a load of crap, a piece of science theater where we pretend to be looking for answers but are really just wasting Caroline Moore's money. But thinking about "D" led me to the beginning of it all: Delia York, the first victim of this damned series. Her case, the oldest, sits before me, and as I read it, I can't help but think that Earl Knight had a thing for her. Not just a detective, but a man who was so taken with this girl that he dug deeper until he put the whole acronym together.
Biography of Delia York, New York, USA
Based on letters from Earl Knight, police reports, medical records and interviews with neighbors, 1981-1991
Delia York was born on May 20, 1981, in the Bronx, New York, to a family that seemed doomed from the start. Her father, Gene York, 35, worked as a pharmacist at a local drugstore, bringing home expired headache tablets that he apparently used to relieve his nerves. Her mother, Karen York, 32, was unemployed, with a head full of strange ideas about "spiritual cleansing" that she sought in cheap sanatoriums. Delia was born after her parents spent the summer of 1980 in a seedy sanatorium outside New York, where Karen, in her words, "looked for the light." A police report (1991) and Earl Knight's writings describe them as a family on the brink: Gene drank, Karen threw tantrums, and Delia, a little girl with wide eyes, always seemed to be somewhere else.
Note from David S.: Sanitarium? Did Karen think the hot tubs there would make her a saint? Reading Earl's notes, I get the feeling he saw Delia as more than just a victim. In a letter to his friend, Detective Roy Carter (April 10, 1991), he writes, "That girl, Delia, looked at me like she knew she was going to die. I can't forget that." He cared, that's a fact. It was because of her that he started digging, like it was personal.
Until she was eight, Delia lived in a cramped Bronx apartment where the wallpaper smelled of damp and Santa Barbara was on TV. She was quiet, and liked to draw flowers and dogs in notebooks her father bought her. In 1989, the family suddenly moved to a cottage in Queens-a neighbor, Mrs. Rosalie Garcia, 60, told police in March 1991: "Gene said he inherited something, but I don't believe him. Where did they get the money for a house?" At PS 112, Delia befriended Jerome Creighton, a 10-year-old boy who taught her to ride a bike, and Josephine Thueson, a 20-year-old neighbor who had a shaggy dog named Ryder. Josephine, according to neighbors, was "a weird girl," wearing brightly colored scarves and smoking pot, but Delia became attached to her. Jerome recalled in his testimony (April 1996): "Delia said she wanted to run away with Ryder to California, where it was always sunny." Reading this, my heart sank - the girl dreamed of simple things, and life was falling apart around her.
Note from David S.: Run away to California with a dog? Poor kid. Earl writes in his notes (March 15, 1991) that Delia reminded him of his younger sister, who died of leukemia as a child. Was he seeing a ghost of his past in her? No wonder he was so invested in her case.
In the summer of 1989, things went downhill. Delia and Josephine went to the apartment of Josephine's friend Noah, a 25-year-old musician who played in a local rock band. There, Delia experienced her first period-early, at age eight, shocking her parents. Gene and Karen, confused, accused Noah of abuse. The police, led by Earl's friend Roy Carter, arrested Josephine for "corruption of minors"-an absurd charge, but in the Bronx in the 1980s, no one really cared. Josephine got 18 years in prison, and Delia withdrew into herself, blaming herself for her friend's arrest. Mrs. Garcia recalled: "After that, Delia stopped smiling. She sat on the porch with a notebook, drawing black flowers." Earl wrote in his notes (April 10, 1991): "I saw her then, thin, with eyes like a hunted animal. If I could save her..."
Note from David S.: 18 years for nothing? This is the Bronx, baby, and justice is blind and deaf. Earl, in a letter to Elizabeth Crowe (March 20, 2000), mentions that the Josephine case haunted him - he knew she was innocent, but he couldn't prove anything. It was because of Delia that he began looking for other cases, as if to atone for his guilt.
In 1991, Delia's life finally fell apart. In January, Gene was in an accident - a truck flattened his car at an intersection in Queens, and he lost his leg. Karen, seeing her husband in the hospital, could not stand it. On March 10, 1991, she, right in front of Delia, shot herself in the head with Gene's old revolver. Earl Knight was at the scene, called by the police. In the report (March 11, 1991) he wrote: "Girl, 10, in shock, repeating: 'Mommy, don't.' Blood on her dress, eyes empty." The police took Delia to a shelter, but within a day they noticed that she was bleeding profusely. At Bellevue Hospital, a gynecologist, Dr. Hastings, examined her and diagnosed "atypical uterine sarcoma" - a tumor that looked like cancer, but with cells that he called "unidentifiable." Biopsy (March 14, 1991, drugs: lidocaine, midazolam) showed polymorphic cells with a high mitotic index (9 mitoses per field), but without typical tumor markers. Delia died on March 15, 1991 after surgery from massive bleeding. The burial took place in a cemetery in Queens, paid for by a charity. Gene, still in the hospital, was not present.
Note from David S.: Suicide in front of a child? That's like a scene from a nightmare. Earl wrote to Roy (April 10, 1991): "I can't forget her eyes. She looked at me like she was asking for help, and I did nothing." Man, Earl, you really got yourself into this for personal reasons. No wonder you dug deeper until you found Laura, Isaac, Eliza, and Alexander. But why Delia? Because she was the first? Or because you saw her as your sister?
I read these papers and I feel sick. Delia was just a kid who wanted to draw flowers and play with her dog, and life hit her like a hammer. Neighbors like Mrs. Garcia said, "She was an angel, but everything was falling apart around her." Jerome Creighton, a high school friend, recalled (police interview, April 1996): "Delia loved to tell stories about the stars, like they were alive. She didn't deserve that." And I sit here and think: How did Earl even stand it? He saw her the day Karen shot herself, and it must have broken something in him. His notes are full of pain - he writes about Delia as if she were his daughter. Maybe that's why he put together the acronym, D.E.L.I.A., starting with her? But I still don't understand what the "D" in this puzzle is. The devil, the demon, the filth, the empty? Or just Delia, the girl who made Earl seek the truth? I'm rewriting these reports, but I feel like I'm digging in a grave, and it makes me want to just get up and walk away.
Note from David S.: Earl, you clearly cared about her. In a letter to Elizabeth (March 20, 2000), you write, "Delia is the beginning of everything. Her death is a signal I can't ignore." Dude, you made this a personal mission. But what were you looking for? An answer to her death, or forgiveness for not saving her? And here I am, in 2000, wondering if this project really is a scam and we're just stalling for time until Caroline shuts us down for going over budget.
My head is pounding like someone is hammering at it as I try to piece together the puzzle Earl Knight left us with his D.E.L.I.A. series. Ever since the report on Delia York, I've been wondering: What the hell possessed that detective to get so caught up in her case? He clearly saw her as more than just a victim, and his notes, which I found in yet another folder, only confirm that. Earl visited her grave, spoke to Josephine Thueson in prison, even tracked down Jerome Creighton years later. Reading his notes, I'm torn between sympathy for Delia, the little girl whose life was like broken glass, and irritation with Earl, who seems to have made a personal crusade out of it. And yet, the more I dig, the more I feel like this story is like grave soil that sticks to your hands and you can't wash it off.
Earl Knight Investigates: Delia York
Based on notes by Earl Knight, police reports, interviews with Josephine Thueson (1991) and Jerome Creighton (1996), April 1991 - March 1996
Earl Knight, a detective with the eyes of a whipped dog, began his investigation at Delia York's grave. In his notes for March 20, 1991, five days after her death, he writes: "Queens Cemetery, Section 12, Row 8. Delia's grave is just a mound of dirt, no stone, just a wooden cross with her name on it. The wind whistles like in a horror movie. I stood there thinking, How did a ten-year-old girl end up like this?" Earl records that he brought a white lily to the grave, an odd gesture for a cop who had seen hundreds of deaths. He describes looking at her name carved into the cross and feeling like he had to find an answer. Not just her death, but why her life was like that: a disabled father, a mother who shot herself in front of her, and this stupid thing with Josephine, who got 18 years for nothing.
Note from David S.: A lily on a grave? Earl, are you a romantic? I read his notes and his sentimentality sickens me, but at the same time... Hell, I get it. The girl who drew flowers and dreamed of California died in the hospital, like the world was going to kill her. But why is he so hung up on it? It's just a case, one of many. Or is it?
A week after the funeral, on March 28, 1991, Earl drove to Bedford Hills Women's Prison, where Josephine Thueson was being held. She was serving time for "corruption of minors," a charge that, it is now clear, was trumped up. Earl describes her in his interview (March 28, 1991): "Josephine, 20, thin, long dark hair, looks like a teenager in her prison uniform. Her eyes are red, not from crying, but from fatigue. She speaks softly, but angrily." Josephine said that she and Delia were just friends. "We read books - she loved 'Treasure Island,' she liked to pretend she was a pirate. We listened to records - Bob Dylan, 'Blowin' in the Wind,' she sang. We played with Ryder, my dog, threw a stick at him in the yard. Nothing more, I swear." When Earl asked why she was in jail, Josephine shrugged, "I don't know. Her parents thought I or Noah had touched her. Delia cried, said it wasn't true, but no one listened. They wanted a scapegoat, and I was there." Earl wrote, "She's not lying. I saw her eyes, and there was only pain and anger. This case was a mistake, and Delia paid for it."
Note from David S.: Josephine is a victim of the system, just like Delia. I sit here and think: How could this screw up so badly? Put a girl in jail for reading books and playing with a dog? Earl knew it was crazy, but he couldn't do anything about it. And that pisses me off, because he's a cop, not a savior. But at the same time... I wish I could fix something like that. Man, this whole thing is like a knife in the heart.
In April 1996, five years after Delia's death, Earl tracked down Jerome Creighton, a high school sweetheart who was then 17. Jerome lived in the Bronx, worked part-time at an auto body shop, and, according to the transcript (April 15, 1996), was reluctant to talk about his past. Earl describes him as "tall, skinny, long hair, like a rocker. Nervous, smokes unfiltered Camels." Jerome said Delia had a crush on him: "She hung around all the time, bringing me drawings of her-flowers, stars, stuff. She'd write me notes like, 'You're cool, Jerome.' But she wasn't my type, you know? Skinny as a Chihuahua, always with these big eyes like a puppy. I didn't text her back, I was just friends. I thought she'd grow out of it." He hesitated when Earl asked about her illness: "She would complain about her stomach sometimes, say it hurt. I thought it was just a girl thing. And then her mother... well, you know. After that, she just shut down." Earl noted: "Jerome blames himself, but he doesn't talk about it. He remembers Delia, but he doesn't want to dig into the past."
Note from David S.: Chihuahua? Seriously, Jerome? This girl loved you and you turned her down because she wasn't your type? I'm sitting here mad at this kid for not caring about her feelings. But at the same time, he was a kid, 10 years old, what could he do? And yet, reading this makes me want to scream: Why didn't anyone help Delia? Earl, you went to her grave, talked to Josephine, interrogated Jerome, and what? All you found was pain. And now I'm sitting here with your papers feeling like I'm drowning in this mud.
Reading these notes tears me up. On one hand, I see Delia, the little girl who dreamed of California, loved her dog Ryder, drew stars, and fell in love with some kid who compared her to a Chihuahua. It breaks your heart, knowing she was just a kid and the world was a grinder around her. On the other hand, I'm angry at Earl. Why did he bother? He went to her grave, as if that would change anything. He talked to Josephine, who's behind bars on stupid charges. He interrogated Jerome, who just wanted to forget. Earl made it personal, and now, rewriting his reports, I feel complicit. This story isn't just about atypical sarcoma. It's about a girl who was left unsaved, and a detective who can't forgive himself for it. And me? I'm just sitting here writing, trying not to think that the "D" in D.E.L.I.A. is not just Delia, but something more. The devil? Dirt? A dummy? Or just the pain we all carry around with us, like Earl carried his lily to her grave.
Note from David S.: Earl, did you really think you could find answers? I read your notes and it seems to me that you were looking not for truth, but for redemption. Delia is dead, Josephine is in prison, Jerome is alive, and you go to the cemetery and write as if that will bring her back. And here I am, in 2000, thinking: this project is like a grave we keep digging into and finding nothing but dirt. Maybe Caroline is right and it's time to call it a day.
I've just finished my report on Delia York, and there on my desk is a letter from Earl, dated late April 2000. It came to Elizabeth Crowe a couple of months before I started writing this "final copy," and, damn, it's like a punch to the gut. It's drenched in longing, as if Earl had written it staring into the abyss, like some Dostoevsky with a revolver instead of a pen. And then I found the newspaper clipping, and everything I thought about Earl came crashing down. This man wasn't just digging into Delia's past; he was ramming his life, like a car, straight into the abyss. And I sit there, in shock, angry at Delia, at Earl, at all of us, because he dumped his burden on the institute, on Mark, on me, as if we could clean up this mess.
Earl Knight's letter, April 28, 2000
Addressed to Dr. Elizabeth Crowe, Biomedical Institute, New York. cc: Dr. Mark T., Linda Hayes, Richard Byrnes, and Caroline Moore.
I'm writing this because I can't stay silent anymore. I've been carrying this weight for nine years, and it's crushing me. Delia York is more than just a name in your acronym D.E.L.I.A.. She was the girl who looked at me when her mother shot herself and I did nothing. I saw her eyes, empty as death, before she died in the hospital. I dug into her file, then I found Laura, Isaac, Eliza, Alexander - all these children who were not saved. I looked for justice, but all I found was dirt. Every case, every report, every visit to Delia's grave is like a knife I'm stabbing myself.
You scientists, with your microscopes and your graphs, think you can find the answers. But I know the truth: there are no answers, only questions that burn like fire. I have suffered too much trying to understand why these children died, why their caregivers died in such absurd ways - suicides, cranes, snakes. This is not an accident, but I am tired of searching. I am handing it over to you - my notes, my transcripts, my pain. You, Elizabeth, with your skepticism, Mark with your cynicism, Linda with your mistakes, Richard with your arrogance, and you, Caroline, with your budget - take it. Find the truth, if there is one. I can't take it anymore. Justice is a mirage, and I am tired of chasing it.
Note from David S.: Earl, are you serious? Is this your farewell letter? You sound like Raskolnikov, who killed the old lady and now feels sorry for himself. I'm sitting here reading this and shaking - you dumped this whole nightmare on us, like we were wizards with microscopes. But at the same time... I see your pain. Delia broke you, and I don't know how to blame you.
Newspaper clipping: New York Post, April 30, 2000
"Queensboro Bridge Tragedy: Detective Rams Doctor, Drowns"
On the evening of April 29, 2000, tragedy struck the Queensboro Bridge. A man identified as Earl Knight, 45, an NYPD detective, intentionally rammed a 1996 Ford Taurus into a pedestrian, Dr. Lou Hastings, 52, a gynecologist at Bellevue Hospital. Hastings died instantly from multiple injuries. After the collision, Knight's car crashed through the bridge's guardrail and fell into the East River. Both bodies were recovered by rescuers at 10:45 p.m. Police said Knight left a note addressed to co-workers, but its contents have not been released. Investigators are considering a personal vendetta: Hastings had operated on a 10-year-old girl whose case Knight was investigating in 1991. Photos from the scene show the wrecked car in the water and the bodies covered with a tarp. Police are asking witnesses to call 212-555-0132.
Note from David S.: Holy shit, Earl! You rammed Hastings? The one who operated on Delia? I'm sitting here looking at this clipping and my jaw is on the floor. You're not just a cop, you're some kind of vigilante. But for what? Hastings didn't kill Delia, he was trying to save her! Or did you think he was guilty of something more? I'm shocked and sickened by this story.
I sit there, staring at the letter and the clipping, and I don't know what to think. At first I'm angry at Delia, which is stupid, but I blame her, as if she, the dead girl, was the reason Earl went crazy. Her death, her eyes, her story, was the splinter that drove him crazy. She was just a kid, drawing flowers, loving her dog, and he made her a symbol, an icon of his pain. But then I think, Earl, you're good, too. You wrote that letter of longing, dumped all the responsibility on us-on Elizabeth, Mark, Linda, Richard, Caroline, me-and went off in revenge. You rammed Hastings, killed him, and then yourself, as if that could fix anything. You left us to clean up your mess, your files, your pain. I'm rewriting these reports in May 2000, and I want to scream: Why didn't you tell us more? Why didn't you give me a clue instead of this fatalistic nonsense? Delia died nine years ago, but you made her a ghost that now haunts us all. And I'm sitting here trying to figure out what to do with this project, with D.E.L.I.A., with your death. Maybe you're right, and this is all just grave soil from which nothing will grow.
Note from David S.: Earl, you dumped everything on us and walked away like a cheap movie. I'm mad at Delia, but that's stupid - she's just a kid who didn't deserve any of this. And you... you ran away, leaving us with this nightmare. I'm rewriting your reports, but this feels like a funeral, not a science. And Hastings - why did you do this to him? He was trying to help. Or did you know something you didn't write? Shit, Earl, you were possessed, and now we're all in this shit.
I thought his letter and that New York Post clipping were the end of it, but this morning Caroline Moore slammed another folder on my desk. Inside was a letter from Earl's boss, Captain Roy Carter, and a report from a psychologist at Bedford Hills State Penitentiary. And, damn, was it a bolt of lightning? It turns out that Josephine Thueson, who was locked up for "corrupting" Delia, was Delia's half sister. And she died an hour after Earl visited the prison, after learning of Delia's death. I read these papers and I'm shaking: Earl, did you know? Did you realize that your questions could have killed her? And why didn't you tell us? As I sit here, rewriting these reports in May of 2000, I feel like this D.E.L.I.A. project is not just a scientific mystery, it's a fucking tragedy, where every step leads to a new grave.
Letter from Captain Roy Carter to Chief Earl Knight, May 10, 1991
Addressed to Dr. Elizabeth Crowe, Biomedical Institute, New York. cc: Dr. Mark T., Linda Hayes, Richard Byrnes, Caroline Moore.
Dear colleagues,
I, Captain Roy Carter, Commanding Officer of the 48th Precinct of the New York City Police Department, am writing in connection with the case of Delia York and Josephine Thueson and the investigation of Earl Knight, my subordinate. Following the death of Delia York (March 15, 1991) and Earl's subsequent visit to Josephine Thueson at Bedford Hills Prison (March 28, 1991), we have received new information that changes the picture.
A police medical examiner's report and geneticist's report (dated April 5, 1991) showed that Josephine Thueson (20 at time of death) was Delia York's (10) biological sister through her father, Gene York. Genetic analysis (a technique called RFLP used to identify DNA) confirmed a match for markers indicating a common father. Gene York, a pharmacist, had an affair with Josephine's mother, Alice Thueson, in the 1970s before marrying Karen York, Delia's mother. Alice died in 1985, leaving Josephine an orphan, which explains her "strange" behavior, as described by neighbors. Josephine was probably as unaware of her relationship with Delia as Delia herself.
Moreover, Josephine Thueson died on March 28, 1991, an hour after Earl Knight visited her at the jail. The coroner's report listed the cause of death as congestive heart failure due to extreme emotional stress. Earl had told her about Delia's death, and that must have been her undoing. I knew Earl to be a tough cop, but this incident broke him. He blamed himself for Josephine's arrest in 1989, believing it was wrongly charged, and her death only added to his guilt. I ask you, scientists, to consider this data in your D.E.L.I.A. project. Earl gave you everything he had, but this story is not just science. It is a tragedy that destroyed him.
Sincerely,
Captain Roy Carter
Note from David S.: Sister? Josephine was Delia's sister? I'm sitting here rereading this letter and my mind is spinning. Earl, did you know when you went to see her in prison? Or were you just trying to get the truth out of her and ended up killing her instead? And why didn't you tell us? I'm angry, but at the same time... what does it feel like to find out your sister is dead and you're sitting behind bars for a crime you didn't commit? Shit, Earl, it's like you were digging deeper on purpose so you could drown in this mud.
Bedford Hills Prison Psychologist's Report, April 5, 1991
Dr Emma Rose, clinical psychologist, in the Josephine Thueson case
Subject: Josephine Thueson, 20, inmate #34782, serving time for "corruption of minors" (arrested August 1989).
On March 28, 1991, Josephine was visited by Detective Earl Knight in the Bedford Hills Prison interrogation room. According to guard protocol, the visit began at 2:30 p.m. and lasted 25 minutes. Josephine was depressed but physically stable (blood pressure 120/80, pulse 72, seen by a nurse at 2:00 p.m.). Earl Knight questioned her about Delia York, a friend she had spent time with before her arrest. At 2:45 p.m., Josephine learned from Knight that Delia had died on March 15, 1991, of "atypical uterine sarcoma." According to the guard, Josephine turned pale, began shaking, and kept repeating, "No, no, she can't be dead." At 2:50 p.m., she clutched her chest, complained of pain, and lost consciousness.
The prison medical team arrived at 2:52 p.m. and performed resuscitation (defibrillator, adrenaline), but Josephine was pronounced dead at 3:32 p.m.
The coroner (report 30 March 1991) listed the cause of death as acute heart failure due to emotional shock. My analysis, based on Josephine's history, shows that she suffered from depression and guilt over the arrest associated with Delia. She mentioned in interviews with me (February 1991) that "Delia was like a little sister, the only light in my life". On learning of her death, Josephine experienced severe emotional distress, which probably precipitated the heart attack. The absence of physical pathology (according to the autopsy) confirms that the cause was grief.
Recommendation: Take into account the emotional state of prisoners during interrogations related to close people.
Dr. Emma Rose
Note from David S.: Died of grief? Shit, did Josephine love Delia so much that her heart gave out? I read this and I want to scream. Earl, you went to her, told her her sister - HER SISTER - was dead, and she died an hour later. Did you realize what you were doing? I'm sitting here thinking, You're not just a cop, you're like the angel of death. But at the same time... what's it like to be in jail for something you didn't do, and find out your little sister is dead? I can't blame her, but I'm mad at Earl. It's like he ruined everything on purpose.
I sit here holding this letter and this report, and I don't know what to feel. At first I'm angry at Delia, which is stupid, but it's like her death set this chain of events in motion: Josephine in jail, Earl going crazy, Hastings getting rammed on the bridge. She was just a child, drawing flowers, loving their dog Ryder, and her life became the trigger for all this. But then I think, Earl, you're worse. You found out Josephine was Delia's sister, and you still went to her, told her about her death, and she died from it. And then you wrote us your letter full of sadness, dumped all this dirt on us, on Elizabeth, Mark, Linda, Richard, Caroline, on me, and went off to get revenge on Hastings. Did you think he was guilty? Or was he just looking for someone to punish? I'm rewriting these reports in May 2000, and I feel sick. This D.E.L.I.A. project is not science, it's a graveyard, where every document is a tombstone. Josephine died of grief, Earl of his obsession, and we sit here with our microscopes, pretending we can find the answers. Maybe the "D" in D.E.L.I.A. really is death, dragging us all down with it.
Note from David S.: Earl, you knew Josephine was Delia's sister and you still went to see her? You killed her with your visit, and then you killed Hastings and yourself. And we idiots are going through your papers like we can fix it. I'm mad at Delia, but that's stupid - she was just a kid. And you, Earl, you dumped your pain on us and walked away. And now I sit here rewriting this and thinking: maybe Caroline was right and it's time to shut this damn project down.
I had just gotten over his boss's letter about Josephine and Delia when I suddenly saw another piece of paper - a telegram from Roy Carter, the police chief. Short as a shot, but it hits just as hard as everything before.
Telegram from Captain Roy Carter, December 15, 1999
Addressed to Dr. Elizabeth Crowe, Biomedical Institute, New York. cc: Dr. Mark T., Linda Hayes, Richard Byrnes, Caroline Moore.
GENE YORK, 53, DELIA YORK'S FATHER, DIED DECEMBER 12, 1999, QUEENS, NY. CAUSE: ANALGESIC OVERDOSE (OXYCODONE). FOUND IN APARTMENT, WITHOUT DEATH. FUNERAL DECEMBER 14, QUEENS CEMETERY. EARL KNIGHT WAS NOTIFIED BUT SAID NOTHING ABOUT THE MATTER.
CAPTAIN ROY CARTER
Note from David S.: Gene, are you really going to catch up with Delia and Karen in their eternal darkness? I sit here rereading that telegram with a lump in my throat: all that's left of Delia's family are the names on the crosses. Earl knew this, and it must have hit him even harder before he rammed his car into Dr. Hastings. Damn it, this whole project is a bottomless pit of lives, and I, a pathetic chronicler, am just recording the names for the glory of Lady Death.