The boys from Brazil

A fanfiction as a school assignment by Marit Schoemaker and Yttje Looise

After a long meeting Mr. Levin dropped his belongings on his desk, it was a Friday and 7pm already. Just before he went to sit down, he realised he longed for coffee. So he walked down the long corridor, up to the coffee machine and pressed the double espresso button. His mouth watered as he saw the black liquid fill the paper cup. Taking the cup with him to his desk as he continued to work on the minutes of the meeting he had, almost half an hour ago. He wants to take sip from his coffee as he remembers what the treasurer said. As he quotes the treasurer in his minutes, a co-worker knocks on his door. "Hi Ira I came to say that I'm leaving, so you're the last man to close off okay?" "That's fine, have a nice weekend!" The co-worker leaves and Ira Levin is on his own again. Now, he finally has time to enjoy his coffee. He stirs his drink a few times and smells the wonderful coffee-aroma. It smells a little different than his regular coffee. He sighs and takes a big gulp from his bitter, black and loved beverage. His taste buds thank him for his well-deserved break before his tongue feels a little numb. He pokes it, but soon he doesn't feel anything anymore in his mouth. He tries to talk but no words come out. He stumbles over to the faucet and tries to drink some water but can't swallow. The panic is rising and his heart beats faster than it ever has. He looks in the mirror and sees an almost purple face. His breathing is getting heavier by the second. His limbs start to feel heavier too and before he realises his body hits the ground and starts to convulse. He starts to puke foam and his blood feels like it's boiling. His last view is of a tall man standing on the doorstep.

As he watches Levin die he has a big grin on his face. It wasn't easy to plan this murder, though it was not his first. He's an experienced serial killer and he's a proud Nazi worker planning to kill all Jews.

It all started on a beautiful day in September 1974. His soon to be boss gathered all six businessmen in a Japanese restaurant. When they finished their food they were left alone by everyone. The six men had some business to talk about. Mengele started "Ninety-four men have to die on or near certain dates in the next two and a half years. Sixteen of them are in West-Germany, fourteen in Sweden, thirteen in England, twelve in the United States of America, ten in Norway, nine in Austria, eight in Holland and six each in Denmark and Canada. The first is to die on or near October sixteenth; the last on or near the twenty-third of April, 1977." This came a little unexpected and he didn't understand why so many men had to die and why on that certain dates. Then they all got an envelope with information about the men like what their names were and where they lived. All men were sixty-five years old and had a family with an almost fourteen-year-old son.

On the plane to Sweden, his assigned land, he first opened his envelope with information. He had to kill fourteen men and that made him a bit nervous. Not that he hadn't killed before, but now he had to kill his own age-category. He was a sixty-four year old man from Germany, with quite a peaceful life. He had a wife, a twelve year old son and a mediocre house. He looked at his new identity: he was now Mr. Finch, born on the fourth of July in Sweden, so he had to work on his accent. The rest of the plane ride, he practiced his new autograph and planned his killing spree.

In his hotel room he checked the assignment again. The men had to die 'naturally' so no weapons were allowed, he also wasn't allowed to kill any of the men's significant others. So he made a list of killing-methods. Drowning, poisoning, burning, suffocating, starving, an accident or a fight. He looked up the first man's address and found the house on his map. The house the man lived in stood in one of the poorest neighbourhoods in Stockholm, so Mr. Finch decided he would choose the burn-method. The houses in the poorest neighbourhoods were most likely made of wood, so that would be easy. He started to plan the murder. He would start stalking the first man the day after, so that night he looked up where he worked, where he went all day and what his favourite restaurant was. He found out who his wife and son were and who his friends were. After a few hours he had gathered all the information he needed and called it a day.

So for a few weeks Mr. Finch stalked the first man and memorized his daily routine. The man would be easy to kill because had a strict routine. He walked to work at eight am each morning and went home at six pm. Every Tuesday and Friday at seven pm, his wife and son went out to his son's football training, so the place, date and time for the murder was settled too. The first Swedish man would die at Friday November the third. Preparing his murder, Mr. Finch went to the gas station to buy some gasoline and took a box of matches with him in his pocket, because that night the man would be removed from the living by Mr. Finch. Time flew by and before Mr. Finch knew it, it was already seven pm; time to go. With one tank of gasoline and the matchbox in his hands he made his way to the small wooden shack. Mr. Finch waited half an hour to make sure the man's wife and son were gone before sprinkling the gasoline all over the house. After checking one last time if the man was inside he lightened the match and threw it in the gasoline. Immediately the house was lit and flames licked its body.

The second man he needed to kill was a man called Ira Levin. He saw in his notes that Ira Levin lived in Sundsvall, a small village in Sweden. In the plane, he was thinking of another way to kill Ira Levin. His options were: drowning, poisoning, burning, suffocating, starving, an accident or a fight. He had already done the burning method. So he needed to do another one. Finally, he chose to make an accident and make it look like a coincidence to kill Ira Levin. Mr Finch went to his hotel and began stalking the man. He talked with the hotel owner, who fortunately knew Mr Levin. He learned that Ira Levin worked at an important office in town, in his leisure he writes story's. He has a wife and a son who are as old as the previous family. The day after, he walked through to the town and searched for the best crossing on the way of the almost-to-die man, to prepare the accident. When he found the perfect spot he marked it on the map and planned to observe the crossing. Later that week he would sit near his spot and observe and to decide when it was the best time to go for it. He had discovered that Mr. Levin passed there every day at seven am, one pm and nine pm. Mr. Finch went for nine pm and planned everything carefully. He knew how the man looked, when he walked passed and with who he was traveling. So two days later, on the next Friday he stepped in his car and rode to the crossing. There he noticed that there were a lot of Ira Levin look a likes: A middle aged man with dark hair and a suit and tie. With a brown briefcase and shiny black shoes. Most of the time also with a cup of dark steaming coffee in his hand. When Finch thought he saw Ira Levin he started his car. He manoeuvred his vehicle next to Levin. After driving there for a while he threw his steering wheel 'accidentally' to the side and hit the man in his back. Levin rolled over the car and laid still. Mr. Finch ran out of his car and asked very 'concerned' if he was okay. But to his surprise he saw that he had hit the wrong man! From behind him, the real Levin came running in his direction while dialling the number of the ambulance. Mr. Finch rushed to his car when he saw him and pushed the gas pedal a little harder than meant.

Later that day, Finch paced around in his hotel room. What had gone wrong? How did he miss him and what should he do now? Suddenly a stripe of light fell through the curtains and lit up his cup of coffee. That was it, coffee. He would dress up as the new assistant Levin's office and feed him drunk. As soon as the idea started gaining its colour, it got better and better. As the new assistant Finch could poison Levin late at night so nobody would know, because Levin stayed till late. If he acted on Friday, Levin had a whole weekend to rot away and in that time, Finch could erase all signs of his presence. The first step was to buy poison. He decided that poison for rats would be the easiest to get. So he went to the super market and bought poison for rats and a packet of poison for snails. That mixed together would be the perfect concentration for human killing. He then rented the right 'assistant' outfit and prepared his act. Just to be sure, he would spent the next few days observing at the man's office. He noticed that the man was always the last one to leave the building. With this information he formed a new plan: If he sneaked in halfway through the day and waited until everyone's gone, he could put his poison in the coffee machine. So he went on planning, he would enter at exactly one pm and stay at the restroom for most of the time. Then, when everyone's gone, he would go up to the coffee-machine and fill it with poison. After that he would just wait for the man to drink his coffee. So the day after, Friday at one pm, he entered the building. He quickly found his way to the restroom closest to the man's office and locked himself in. He waited, and before he knew it, most people were gone and he was left with the man only. So he casually made his way over to the coffee machine and opened the water reservoir. He poured the poison inside and fixed everything up. Now it looked like nothing had happened. Finch hid behind the door as the man grabbed a cup and pushed the double-espresso button.


Mr. Finch only had to clean the whole room, then he'd be ready. After that he can go to another city far away from here. Before the police thinks it's him, who killed two men in one week. He drags Ira Levin into a toilet cubicle and now the man can rot the whole weekend long. He cleans the stinking vomit of Ira Levin with soap, it is a very disgusting task. He almost had himself puking. Finch walks to the office room of Levin, and cleans that room too. There was no sign to see of what could be a murder. He goes back to his hotel with a taxi. He drives past the crossing where he killed a random man earlier this week, and he smiles. Mr Finch wondered why he had to kill all these innocent men, what did they do wrong? In his hotel, he took all his stuff and payed for his room. He closed the door and thought: Let's go to the next murder!