Doctor Hansin confirmed responding,
“I am checking my computer files now. There is a Steven Willis that comes up but it’s complicated. A Shawn Campbell fits that description.”
Jon shook his head confused as he asked,
“Complicated, how so?”
Doctor Hansin continued as he said,
“We had a Shawn Campbell here in 2001. He checked himself in and was only with us for a few weeks. I remember him. He had D.I.D. which is an abbreviation to Dissociative Identity Disorder. Back then it was commonly described as multiple personality disorder. It is a mental disorder that is characterized by two distinct personalities. One is Steven Willis and the other is Shawn Campbell. This normally is accompanied by memory gaps but in this particular case it was interesting. See the patient signed himself in as Shawn Campbell. Upon one on one therapy sessions, I found out he had this other side, a side he named Steven Willis. He would rarely talk about him, but would make gestures about him as another person, using specific pronouns as in “we” when he talked about certain tasks. Which lead to me believing there was no gaps in memory. He never talked about anything harmful to himself or other people. However I was worried about his aggressive outbursts and his psychological state, but because I had no proof he harmed anyone or himself I could not hold him against his will. He signed himself out after only a few sessions with me.”
Jon felt a cold shudder go up his spine as he replied,
“Is that all you have on file about him?”
Doctor Hansin replied,
“Unfortunately yes. I suppose this call pertaining that particular patient isn’t good news and my suspicions were correct?”
Jon nodded as he answered over the phone saying,
“Yeah something like that. Thank you doctor. Just send the file to my department and attach the recorded conversation we just had to cover yourself. I will fill out the proper paper work later.”
Jon hung up the phone and made his way back to the interrogation room. As he placed his hand on the door knob he took in a deep breath. Exhaling as he whispered,
“What kind of person is this?”
At the very least it explained why Steven kept referring to himself as we. When he was describing the murders he always referred it to we. Maybe Dr. Hansin had it backwards. The identity that Steven admitted into the hospital was Shawn Campbell. Jon had a deep sinking feeling that Shawn was the dangerous one. Shawn was the one Jon was talking to when his eyes would dilate. His tones, and persona would change, almost as if he was talking to someone else completely different.
Jon knew he had to go back in there. To face whatever, or whoever that monster was. The sick twisted monster that poisoned his brother’s mind. He took in a deep breath and looked down at his hands. They were shaking and for the first time, Jon wasn’t just angry, he was petrified as well. Terrified that Steven Willis or his alter ego Shawn Campbell maybe right……maybe he was like the serial killer. Because at that moment. He wanted to kill him.
Chapter 8
Steven smiled when Jon entered the room. He was all cleaned up from the pounding Jon delivered. The guards must’ve came in and washed the blood from his face when he was out for a smoke. Jon gently sat down placing the recorder on the table. He clicked record and folded his hands back down on the table. Steven’s expression changed from a smile to a puzzled look and said.
“Well done Jon. You seem to have your emotions back in order. Too bad your brother couldn’t have done the same.”
Jon leaned forward and said,
“You’re right Steven, but this isn’t about him. This isn’t about me either. This is about you. Or should I say about Shawn Campbell.”
Steven stood up from his chair and leaned forward. His shackles clanked against the metal table as he bared his teeth. His eyes filled with rage as his nostrils flared and said,
“You leave him out of this.”
Jon grinned and said,
“Pulled up your file from Sylas Jenkins Mental Asylum British Columbia. I had an interesting conversation with Doctor Kevin Hansin. You remember him right?”
Steven grimaced as he shook his head and he looked down at the table. Jon continued and said,
“Steven I think you are very sick. I think you have Disassociate Identity Disorder and used Shawn Campbell as a way to cope with your traumas and murders.”
Steven looked up from the table and said,
“You don’t want to go poking around that. I don’t have Disassociate Identity Disorder. I told Doctor Hansin that he had it all wrong. He didn’t listen, just like you aren’t listening to me right now.”
Jon grinned and said,
“Oh I am listening Steven. I don’t think you are. I think you used this Shawn Campbell to absolve your guilt. This isn’t about Shawn, this is about you Steven.”
Steven let out a cackle as he replied,
“This has always been about you Jonny boy. Whether you want to accept it or not, this has everything to do with you.”
“So you never went to University did you Steven?”
“No, sadly that was getting in the way of our process. So I worked in steel factories, tire factories, bottling factories, anything that wouldn’t draw too much attention towards me. I would stay for a while, but no more than three to six months. I was always on the move.”
“What happened after you signed yourself out of the Asylum?”
“I stayed in Jenkins for a few weeks in 1997. Like I said I thought I could cure what I perceived at the time was an illness. I soon realized there is no cure. Shawn was right all along. The medication, the therapy sessions. They were all irrelevant bullshit. There is no cure for something like me, because the problem is there is nothing to cure. I realized I was a thing of evolution. No matter how hard you try you can’t stop evolution. So I signed myself out and let nature take its course”
“You let nature take its course? What is that supposed to mean?”
Steven smiled and said,
“I could feel myself changing and like the birds I decided to migrate, make my way down south. Something inside me was stirring. It was like having a craving, a need for something inside that was bothering me. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, or scratch the itch that needed to be scratched. All I knew is that it needed to be released.”
“What needed to be released Steven? Did Shawn need to be release?”
“Well when I made my way back east, I decided to head north. I got a job at an Oil refinery in Alberta and was on new hunting grounds. I soon discovered what was going on inside me.”
“What was going on inside you Steven?”
“Why evolution was occurring. We went to a dive one night after work. I saw a woman standing at the end of the bar. You know the type.”
“What type?”
“The type that wears that slinky tank top and short skirt, blonde dyed hair, fake nails, fake eyelashes, fake everything. She has no intention in sleeping with anyone. She was just standing there with her tits hanging out basking in the attention of everyone in the room.”
“If that’s the way you look at it. So what did you do Steven?”
“If that’s the way I look at it? What other way is there to look at it Jonny Boy? They are all bitches begging for attention, and I was just the man to give it to her.”
“What did you do Steven?”
“I gave her what she wanted. I walked up to her, complemented her on the way she looked, the way her hair was, the way she smelled. I dropped a roofline in her drink as she held onto every word. She smiled back at me at first, but when she saw she had started to lose the attention of the other men in the bar she told me to get lost. I leaned in close to her whispering in her ear and said,
“How does it feel to know that every man is thinking of filling up every orifice in your body right now?””
She replied to me placating my call and said,
“What did you say? Get away from me you crr….eeeee….pppp.”
She was sta
rting to fade fast. I gently reached my arm around her to help her stand and walked out of the bar. I put her into the shot gun seat of the car, strapping her into the seat belt. She murmured out,
“Whhhhere, wheerrree are you taking me?”
I muttered back to her “Shut up bitch tits. You know where we are going.”
Then she was out like a light. I drove back to my apartment. Helped her out of the car and onto the elevator. As we were waiting in the elevator to go to the 5th floor it stopped on the 3rd. A young man immediately had this look of concern upon his face as he entered
“Hey dude is she okay?”
I replied,
“Yeah she’s fine, just had a little too much to drink. You know how it is.”
He laughed and said,
“Yeah man, been there way too many times. Good thing you are there to take care of her.”
I smiled replying,
“Oh you have no idea how many sick predators are out there nowadays, can never be too careful. Well this is my floor.”
The young man replied, “See you.” as we slipped out of the elevator. I made my way down the hall to my door. Gently placed her on the floor, got my keys in the door and dragged her inside. When she woke up the girls eyes darted around the room. Her whole body was paralyzed and she couldn’t move. As her eyes adjusted she saw the man from the bar hovering over her, his face serious, his eyes full of anger.
“Hush calm down, I know you are alarmed but there is no need to struggle. The drug I gave you will wear off soon and you will be able to move again and feel everything.”
“Why are you doing this? Where am I?”
“Oh you know exactly why I am doing this.”
Steven grabbed a couple of pairs of handcuffs and started snapping them onto each of her wrists to the bed frame. Then snapped them onto her ankles to the bottom of the bed frame. He then gagged her, stuffing a rag into her mouth and tying the other one around her head. Her eyes widened with pure fear.
Steven said,
“As for where you are, you are in the last place you will ever see before you leave this world.”
He mounted on top of her taking out a knife and slipped it into her side just slicing the skin, breaking it enough to bleed out. He quickly jolted the knife up ripping the rest of her top off baring her breasts. He then leaned in and licked the wound where she was bleeding clean. The drug had worn off and she could feel everything. She started kicking and screaming but it was no use. The handcuff shackles held tight and the gag muffled her screaming. He wrapped the belt around the woman’s neck and began to pull it tight. Locking onto her eyes as she tried to buck and a tear rolled down her cheek. This is exactly the itch that needed to be scratched. Pure dominance. I continued to rape her repeatedly throughout the night and once I was sexually satisfied, I started to carve her up. Removing her lips, breasts, ass, and at last…well the only part that matters.”
Jon gazed into the eyes of Steven. He knew he was no longer looking at a man. He was looking into the eyes of a demon. A sick demonic demon that was no longer a man, but the shell of one to trick his pray.
“Do you even remember her name Steven?”
Steven let out a roaring laugh and moved his head from side to side as if looking at an audience that was watching him.
“Hahaha, What? What? What do you mean do I remember her name? Why would I care about her damn name? I treated her like she wanted to be treated. I treated them like they needed to be treated. Every single one of them are all the same.”
“What do you mean “them” Steven? How many women did you do this to?”
Steven stopped laughing and a very serious look came across his face as he said,
“Maybe dozens? I can’t keep count of all that. If you check my house you can find out for yourself.”
“Check your house?”
“Haven’t you been paying attention Jon? You of all people know we keep a mementos.”
“You’re lying. We already did a full sweep of your house the moment this interrogation started. There is nothing like that in your house. You’re just screwing with me to get some sort of sick, twisted, kick out of this.”
“Why would I lie? I know I am caught. I know I will never see them again. I am giving my full cooperation because I want to. Not because I have to. It will give more credibility to my story. Besides if it was so easy to find I would’ve been caught a long time ago. Do you want them or not?”
“Where are they?”
“Crack open the dry wall in my living room. They should be in there.”
“They are in your walls? The forensics team would’ve smelled them.”
“Yes you make an excellent point but not if they were well preserved so to speak.” Steven smiled.
Jon looked up at the camera and then at his watch as he got up from the table and said,
“Okay Steven, we’re taking a break for a bit and we’ll pick this up when I get back.”
Steven winked and said,
“Oh I know Jonny boy. You need to confirm the trophies before you can continue the investigation. Don’t worry, take your time. I’ll be here waiting for you when you get back.”
Jon walked out of the interrogation room and looked at Cassandra. She nodded towards him and turned around to the other officers.
“Don’t let Steven Willis out of those shackles. Take him to the bathroom and watch him do his business. Then take him directly back to the interrogation room and chain him back up. Bring him some food but make sure it is something he has to eat with his hands. That means no forks or knives, nothing. No phone calls either, he is still under our custody so we have the right to do so unless he specifically asks for a lawyer. We don’t want to give him the slightest chance of escape. Jon and I are going to go to Steven’s house to check up on his story. No one and I mean no one is to talk to him unless it is under those circumstances. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, Detective”
“Good we will reconcile with this investigation at eighteen hundred hours.”
Cassandra quickly followed Jon down the hallway towards the exit door and asked,
“Do you really think he has body parts in his living room walls?”
“Well we can’t chance it detective. If he does have them in the walls, it can save us a lot of work of trying to piece together whether his story checks out or not.”
Cassandra looked down at her watch and said,
“Well it is fourteen oh three right now. That gives us four hours to get down there, check it out and get back to Mr. Willis.”
“That’ll be plenty of time, we just need to confirm that there are pieces of his victims in the drywall.”
Jon and Cassandra made their way to Jon’s car and started up the engine. It was bright out now as the heat seemed to vaporize off of the hot asphalt. Jon eased out of the parking lot and started down towards the highway. Cassandra pulled out her cell phone and called in her squad.
“Yeah, it’s me. Can you give me the address to Steven Willis’s house?”
Jon pulled out onto the highway driving towards the burbs and listened intently to the conversation that she was having on her cellphone. Detective Parsons replied,
“I know we already did a sweep there and it came up clean but we have a new lead from the horse’s mouth. Just meet us there in thirty.”
She looked back at Jon and said,
“1024 Evergreen Terrace, thanks Jim, see you there.”
She snapped the phone shut and asked,
“Did you get that Jon?”
“Yup, we’re on our way.”
Cassandra stared out the window of the car as they were leaving the city. The trees on the side of the highway seeming forever endless. There was a silence in the car and they both knew what it was. She wanted to ask the question that was on the tip of her tongue so badly. She knew it was only a matter of time until it had to be brought up again. Question is whether this was the right time to bring it up or not? What Steven Willis
was suggesting seemed preposterous. He after all was a psychopath, but it still begged to the question. How does he know so much about Jon and his brother? How does he know what buttons to push to set Jon off? What did Jon mean by “I did what I had to do.” His face was so white, stone cold when he said it. There was something behind his eyes as if he was reliving the horrible moment. Did he see his own brother kill himself?
She then shook her head telling herself, Jon is a good cop. Even if he is too close to this he is still the best profiler there is. He has been going after psychos over half his life. Even if his own brother was disturbed, it doesn’t mean he did anything like that. So what if he spent time in the same Asylum as Steven Willis. He could’ve got all of that information about Jon through Alexander. I mean what else would people talk about in that type of situation? It just goes to show what lengths Steven will go to screw with Jon. The most bone chilling thing about Steven though was the way he described those women. She has dealt with rapists before but to do what he did. Cassandra shuddered at the thought of it. Jon finally broke the silence,
“We’re almost there. I have some tools in the trunk we can break the drywall with. Are you ready for this detective?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be Jon. Let’s do this.”
Jon pulled into the driveway of the house. It was in a suburban neighbourhood that seemed like a nice street. The house wasn’t old but not quite new. Probably made in the 1980’s. It was one of those overnight shoebox projects that looked like every other house on the street. The outside looked well-kept as well as the front yard. There were already a couple of squad cars outside waiting for their arrival. Jon got out and made his way around to the trunk of the car. As he was grabbing some things out of trunk Cassandra walked up to one of the officers.
“So you covered the whole house and there is nothing in there unusual?”
The office replied “Nope nothing out of the ordinary. We tore the place wide open from top to bottom and found nothing suspicious let alone any proof that a serial killer lives here. Are you even sure you got the right guy?”
Jon walked up the driveway and passed the officer with a crowbar and a sledgehammer in each hand. He handed off the crowbar to Cassandra and said,
Profile of the Gemini Serial Killer Page 8
