Brad looked at his friend and said, “Burning the midnight oil, Steve?”
Steve looked him in the eye and said, “We have to find this guy and bring this spree of killing to a halt.”
Brad told him they had found the killer and plans were in place to try and apprehend him. When he had Steve’s attention, he told him the story in detail and when he finished, Sujin took his place relating the parking lot incident.
Wendy was shocked and couldn’t believe what she heard. So brazen of him and it appeared he was teasing them; daring them to catch him and if they did, what would the charges be. This was becoming so bizarre and complicated it was making her mind change gears to keep up with the rapidly changing events of this drama.
Steve asked a few questions as Norm got up and made a phone call to his office reporting the story of Sujin encounters with the suspect. He’s been contacted earlier by the agent at the farm that indeed they took his picture and got his DNA. Other than that he reported the guy only blubbered and cried the whole time. He was acting like a ten year old kid, the agent reported. As to the escape route, the agents found a trail and a place where a vehicle had been parked on an old logging road. It had been drizzling rain most of the time and there was a dry place under some trees next to a gravel road just off the main Bald Hills road, but out of sight from anyone parked near or at the farm itself.
Brad took all this in and said, trying to ease the tension around the table. “Look, whether or not he intended us to find the farm through the pig book the fact remains we did. We found him and he held the ace in the hole by buying enough time to make good his escape. Now if the one clue was left by him, then that means more clues are waiting for us. The books will tell us his next move and I think our business here is over for now. We will leave the FBI to do their jobs finding out the DNA and following up on the death of father JJ. I think we will find out the father was murdered and most likely it was John that committed the murder of his father. Now, one more thing, this guy followed us here and I don’t want him following us to Oregon. Steve, tell the pilot to file a flight plan to Seattle and then a flight plan to Salt Lake City. Meanwhile we will drive to Portland and meet him there at the international airport next to the Columbia River.”
Before leaving Brad had a private word and left Norm a phone number committed to memory after he gathered the facts about the lawyer who drew up the document; the father’s cause of death; and the case history of Paul Mitchell, the retarded member of the family.
In case they were followed the FBI had a method of deception for just this purpose. First they drove to the shopping mall. A large eighteen wheel truck stood backed into an unloading dock next to the J.C. Penny store. At the opposite side of the store, where the follower might be waiting thinking they would just walk through the store and out the other side into waiting cars, they would in fact enter the trailer of the truck. It was custom designed in the back for on location communications and other vital needs of the FBI. Thirty minutes later they were headed down the I-5 southbound to Portland. In the first rest area a van waited for the passengers to continue down to Portland. Even Mike was impressed as he sat on a sofa next to the wall. He was quite comfortable and took a nap until the rest area.
Chapter 7
Back at what was euphemistically known as the Round House, the team sat around the floor eating another delicious Korean dinner. Another storm or as Wendy thought, maybe the same one hammered rain against the windows. A nice wood fire kept the damp out of the air. Rocky replaced Sandy at Brad’s side. Wendy was famished as she used her chopsticks in a dish she had heard Sujin say it was mandu. They looked like homemade dumplings and tasted wonderful. Mostly she was told they were filled with vegetables with only a little ground chicken, and of course steamed brown rice and baked fish round off dinner. Billy was happy everyone was back. He’d told the team he had some important results from the computer and was anxious to share the news with the team. He gobbled down dinner and headed for the door to chain smoke a few cigarettes before the after dinner meeting. Agent Jones was there with the books. Brad was satisfied all was going as well as could be expected.
Agent Jones had arrived in the morning. Earie was expecting him. After unloading the books he went for a walk on the beach. Mostly because he didn’t know what to do while Billy was locked onto the computer and it was only when he helped with the books and watched him smoke two cigarettes, he really felt out of place and asked if it would be ok to take a walk on the beach. Billy told him to help himself and to tell Earie what he was doing so she could be on the lookout for him when he came back. Agent Jones had heard about the house on the beach, but never in his wildest dreams did he realize what it really looked like. He’s yet to see the basement and yearned with curiosity what lay under the first floor. Jones thought his mother would have a fit if she saw the place. He laughed thinking about how she would have drift wood stacked around the windows and god knows what all for furniture left to her own devices. He sobered thinking about all the questions she would have for him when he came back home.
Agent Jones was fresh out of law school and had just completed his training at the FBI school. He’d gotten lucky being stationed near his home in Sausalito. His parents had sacrificed their lives for his education. His father worked for PG &E, the Northern California utility company as a truck driver. He’d worked all the overtime he could get to put his son through college and then law school. He was proud as a peacock with his son landing a job with the FBI. His mother bragged too much with the neighbors about her black son working for the famous FBI. He loved his parents and now that he was working he had money deducted from his salary sent to their bank. Billy lived in an apartment in a not so good part of town in the old town of Sacramento. However, the rent was cheap and it was good enough for him for the time being.
Now as the team sat around the glass table with computer papers and files stacked on it, Brad asked agent Jones to bring them up to date on the San Diego findings. Agent Jones began, albeit nervously, by saying, “We made an ID on the body that was supposed to be John Mitchell. The man was a look a like and when the autopsy was performed it was ruled a heart attack. We exhumed the body and did a toxic screen and found an abnormally high amount of a drug that increases the heart rate. We presume John Mitchell befriend this man and fed him the drug which led to heart failure. Close workers of his in the film company ID John’s body and that was that. He was just another late middle aged man succumbing to a heart attack. Next we found his storage unit and from that we got some hair DNA off his clothing. When the DNA is matched against what you found in Washington we can then determine who is who. Now to my final report about the books and what we found were many finger prints and as this man had no prior record of crimes committed or service in the military, no record of his prints is on file.” He looked up and made eye contact with each member to see if there were any questions and when none were forthcoming, he closed the file he never looked at giving a sigh of relief.
Brad thanked him and went to Billy who had just come back down the stairs for a nicotine fix just in time for his report. Smelling like stale tobacco and knowing it he stood back after handing everyone a copy of a report. He said, “I took all the letters of ‘catch me if you can’ and send them to a friend of mine at Cal. State. They possess a large main frame and we ran the letters until we came up with the most probable set of phrases. If you notice on the map of the sites where he struck, there are two ‘C’s.” The computer combined today’s computer talk with regular English and came up with this possibility: “C me if you can.” I know this leads mostly nowhere, but if you add the ‘S’ into the equation, which is outside the original message, you come up with this possibility: “Sure you can.” Of course there is an infinite amount of possibilities given more than half the alphabet, but in all likely hoods this is the message.”
The room was quiet and no one said anything until Wendy cleared her throat and said, “This guy wants to be caught and is pl
aying the kids game of hide and seek.”
Brad sat there thoughtfully and said, “The books will tell us where he is and I’m afraid we have a long process ahead of us page by page and book by book. I feel he is going to ground now that winter is coming. I also think he needs to devise a game plan to finish off his task. I for one am going to take a run on the beach and if anyone wants to join me, they are welcome.”
Mike said he would go home and be back tomorrow. Wendy said she would like to join him in running but it has been a long time since she ran anywhere. Billy said he would run upstairs and out the door for a date with a Marlboro. Steve left to go to his room and make the dreaded phone call to his superior. Sujin went upstairs to tell her sister to go home and that Mike would give her a ride. After that she put on her running shoes and sweat pants, a pullover sweat shirt and a windbreaker and was standing at the door waiting for her husband and Wendy to arrive. Rocky was waiting with her dancing from foot to foot waiting to run on the beach with them. Agent Jones fooled everyone and came up at the same time with Brad dressed to run. He had long powerful legs and out of his suit, he had a nice body that surprised Wendy.
It turned out the Brad and Jones left the girls behind and to Sujin’s hospitality she stayed with Wendy who alternated between a fast walk and short runs. Rain running down her face, hair soaked she was determined to get into shape come hell or high tide. I’ll not be the weak link in this team she thought. Sujin saw the determination on her face and gave her encouragement. A week later, Wendy could run a mile without stopping and by the end of three weeks, could do five miles or a run to the jetty and back with ease.
After Brad and Steve huddled for a few hours the next day, Steve left for Washington and Brad went with him to Palm Springs to see his father. The team still had lots of work to do with the books and after a few days the team had grown close. Mike, Billy and Sujin made them feel like they were important and they were. Agent Jones and Wendy held their weight with the team and if anyone could stop this madman the team could.
Down in Palm Springs the weather as usual was sunny and warm even though it was the first of December. Sitting in his father’s study with Steve, the two of them gave Brad’s father the respect due. His role was small, but important as his former position as a high ranking officer in Naval Intelligence he cut through a lot of red tape with his contacts. Such as the time Brad needed two helicopters to evacuate wounded and his team of Seals from deep in the jungles of South America, he provides the lifesaving air support he needed. Many times he had proved his ability to make the seemingly impossible happen. His pound of flesh came in the form of being in the loop and no detail left out. Rumor had it the he still had the ear of the second term president from Texas.
Brad’s mother told him one time that reason he did it was to not be forgotten by his busy son. And she never failed to tell her son she needed to have some grandkids soon. Brad always blushed like a schoolboy and told his mother they were working on it.
To Brad sitting in his father’s study felt both comfortable and relaxing. The room, and the house for that matter, reflected a typical retired general’s house. He still played golf with his cronies at his local golf club. Now Brad was listening to Steve and his father talk about the serial killer known as John Mitchell. Brad looked at the familiar things in the room. A desk the size of a battleship sat in front of a sliding glass door leading to the back yard. Brad smiled and thought if he was a kid again he could sit in his dad’s desk chair with wheels and roll in the pool which lay not fifteen feet from the sliding doors. Of course on one wall a bookcase with your typical naval histories and his old law books from way too many years ago were stacked from ceiling to floor in a beautiful oak bookcase. Opposite the bookcase a wall full of pictures from over the years was lined up at attention waiting for a young recruit to salute the wall. His mother, along with a Filipino domestic worker made sure not a speck of dust marred the pictures. Famous presidents from Nixon to the two Bush’s with his father standing at their side gave Brad a sense of duty. Now his country was counting on him to stop this John Mitchell with whatever it took to assist him in bringing to a halt his killing of our senior citizens.
“Brad,” he heard his father say, “Are you listening to me?”
“No sir, I’m thinking about taking a swim.”
“My God boy, a killer is loose on our people and all you can think about is taking a swim?”
“Yes sir, Steve can fill you in and after dinner tonight over a glass of your precious brandy, I will answer any and all of your questions,” he said with a soft voice, but a look of seriousness instilled his father’s confidence in him.
“Off with you then as Steve and I have important things to discuss while you fritter away the time.”
Brad laughed and Steve cracked a small grin as Brad left to change into swim trucks and have a talk with his mother by the pool side. After countless laps back and forth his mother bought out some fresh squeezed lemonade. They sat under a large umbrella and he listened while his mother talked about their retirement. “Your father is bored Brad. He needs more to do. He misses the action and if at all possible could you involve him more from your business?”
“Mom, he is very important to our team and plays a large role in supporting. However, he is not a field man and neither is Steve. You can see by Steve’s face he is a tired man flying coast to coast and from meeting to meeting. Father wouldn’t like that and neither would you. My suggestion is moving to Florida, buy a boat and that would be something you both could enjoy.”
“We never thought of that and I will talk to your father about that tonight behind the bedroom door,” she said with an out of character giggles. Brad grinned and then she told him the FBI Director would be here for dinner and Brad was a little taken aback about by the news, but no outward signs could be seen on his face. He winked at his mother thanking her for the heads up on tonight’s plan. Then he excused himself for a trip to the shower to wash off the chlorine.
The current FBI Director was an unassuming looking middle aged man. Since nine eleven so many changes had occurred in all of the governing law and intelligence agencies. The pressure to produce and prevent haunted every agency and in particular the FBI. Not with this new threat of a senior serial killer, the heat was on the FBI to produce and prevent. The director was saying this to them just before dinner was served, sitting in the study, “We have over five hundred agents working on this case. It appears we are no closer now to apprehending this guy than when he first started his killing spree. Yes, I know you are going to tell me how much you have learned, but the sixty four dollar question is: are we any closer now to catching this guy than before?” The table went quiet if it was possible for it to get any quieter.
Brad never one to be at a loss for words said, looking the director in the eye, “We will catch this guy, but time is not on our side. He is smart and more than that he is clever. He taunts and we will out think him. He’s leaving a trail behind him, but to catch him we must know where he will go next. It is my opinion he will go to ground now and wait until spring to hatch a new plan. Now we must be patient and out think this guy. It is also my opinion he is pretty much through with California and now Washington and Oregon are his next targets. We suggest you concentrate your efforts on Washington State especially around the northern regions both east and west of the Cascade Mountains.”
The director never missed a word and thanked Brad for his input and advice. Then he said, mostly to Brad, “I’ve selected a special agent to take charge of the investigation and she will headquarter in Seattle for the time being. Brad I would like you to meet her and if you will be so kind to have breakfast with us tomorrow at our hotel, I will introduce her to you.”
“I will be there as requested. However, Mr. Director I feel you are not happy about something and I for one get the impression you are doing something that goes against your grain,” he said in a louder than normal voice.”
“You are right. This goes ag
ainst what I stand for and that is the FBI shouldn’t have to call in a special unit to do their job. It’s nothing personal Brad, but I’ve been instructed to give you and your unit whatever you request. I have a question and if you don’t mind I would like a straightforward answer. My question is this, why do you think you and your team can do what we can’t do. If I’m to understand your background is military and not crime investigation is that correct?”
“Yes it is Mr. Director. But if I understand the word investigation correctly it means to look for something. Now I realize that is simplifying the term, but in reality that is exactly what we are doing: looking for something. For example, if you are looking for a red house and you drive around looking for one, eventually you will find a red house. Now, that is simple deductive work. In this case, the human mind is not objective and not easy to simplify, but is a complex organism without limits. In this case we are looking for something that few people know how to look for it. Most murderers leave clues and the FBI is an excellent agency to have on the investigative scene, but is this particular case we are dealing with a person who resides outside the normal state of mental reasoning. We have only a handful of examples to work with and each one of those past serial killers had their own unique way of killing. Look at Ted Bundy, Gary what’s his last name, Jeffery Dahmer, BTK, and the Unabomber and others. Now we have a guy who was and is most likely a schizophrenic and who of us can cross that line of mental knowledge to determine where and when he will strike again.”
The director sat and stared at Brad. Brad didn’t know if he was offended or angry or what his state of mind was after he let loose with both barrels. His father was staring at him and Steve was looking into his glass of wine like it was the way out of the room. Finally the tension slowly dissipated and the director said, “Well I guess I asked for it and you are so right. Our agents are trained by the best in the business, but who can train the trainers when we are dealing with a mind no one really understands. Sure our profiles can say they were abused or mistreated when in childhood and so on, but in all cases when did anyone have the opportunity to examine a killer like we have now made it so important we apprehend this guy alive; if indeed that is possible.”
John: The Senior Killer Page 8
