Match Play

by Poppe, D. Michael

  He stands over her, trying to think of everything he touched on the way into the house. Then he goes to the car to get his briefcase.

  Outside, he hears a motor and sees a man mowing his lawn a few houses down on the other side of the street. The children are still playing a few houses from Kate’s. He opens the tailgate and takes his briefcase from the car.

  When he is inside the house again, he locks the front door and pulls the blinds.

  

  An hour and a half later David’s seventh hole torso is lying in the bathroom, her expressionless face staring at it from the counter above. She has been transformed into the 16th hole at Sebonack Golf Club.

  He is busy picking up; everything is done, the scorecard, the newspaper scramble. The appendages are on the kitchen counter. There is no second bathroom in the house. The breasts are set in the living room marking the 8th tee, and the ball marked number 8 in blood is sitting on a small throw rug evenly spaced between the breasts. A 5 iron lies beside it.

  He is returning the sugar sack to the kitchen cupboard when he hears a noise from the garage. It is the automatic garage door opener. He doesn’t panic. He stands and listens, realizing it is too late to escape. He waits by the door to the garage.

  He can hear noises from the garage, and he knows at any moment Samantha Stanley will come charging through the door looking for her mother.

  FBI Violent Crimes Unit, Sylvania, Ohio

  Chapter 55

  Lou Schein has been in Sylvania, Ohio for several days. He is staring through the glass wall of his office at the crime board on the far end of the conference room.

  He is glad to have a private office, if for no other reason than being able to be alone with his thoughts. This time, their temporary office is in a single story building in the city, and he and his agents have it all to themselves.

  It’s been a little over two weeks since the murders in Queens, and he is still unsettled by the discovery of the horrific and shocking crime scene. Members of his team made an appearance at the LPGA Classic in Ontario, but Schein is certain the scramble from the New York newspaper standings is clear.

  THIS MATCH IS A MARATHON can only be interpreted to mean the Marathon Classic at Highland Meadows Golf Club in Sylvania.

  The case is beginning to wear on him. There have been eight murders but the actual match is only three fourths over, if he can rely on the killer to play by the rules.

  Only one piece of important information had come from the Queen’s murders. A neighbor had noticed a dark green SUV with blackened windows parked in front of the house. He felt sure it was a Suburban or maybe an Expedition. The vehicle left around seven p.m., a man carrying a briefcase had gotten into it. It didn’t have New York plates, the neighbor was sure of that.

  Sometime after the green SUV left, another neighbor looking for her daughter discovered the murders. She had simply walked in the back door of the house when no one answered; after all, the door was always unlocked and it wasn’t the first time she’d done that. She found Mary Bokeman with a broken neck on the kitchen floor. She ran from the house, down the street, screaming for help. Another neighbor called 911.

  The police found Kate Stanley’s remaining body parts in the kitchen, and because of the circumstances of the crimes, they notified the FBI.

  By the time Lou and his team arrived on the scene, everyone in the neighborhood was mobbing the outside of the house. Neighbors wanted to know what had happened and where was everyone? Especially where was the little girl, Samantha.

  Kate Stanley’s torso was tucked against the back wall of the bathroom duplicating as closely as possible the 16th hole at Sebonack. The scene was similar to Peggy Foster’s murder, at Herron Bay.

  The little girl was found locked in a closet in one of the bedrooms. Her mouth, hands and feet were duct-taped; not that she would have needed it. She was in shock and couldn’t speak. In fact, she hasn’t spoken since. She is being cared for at a children’s psychiatric hospital, and it is hoped that with intensive therapy, in time, she will recover and be able to give information to the FBI.

  The forensic teams thoroughly worked the house with minimal results. One break had been a paper cup in the trash. The inside had residue of a sedative and on the outside, a man’s partial thumbprint which could have been either from the concessionaire or the killer. It had been simple enough to cross-check the employees, and none matched the print.

  Lou rises from his desk and walks out into the conference room. He tries not to think about the little girl. He has a daughter of his own, and he knows how fragile little girls can be. He forces himself to concentrate on the other elements of the case.

  He sees a pile of papers where Bruce Phillips has been working. A pack of cigarettes marks Mary Gibson’s place at the table, and there is a can of Pepsi and a wadded up hamburger wrapper where Roger Payne usually parks himself. Nancy Cochran hasn’t arrived in Ohio yet.

  In the last few weeks, Phillips has acquired lists from the USGA in many states. Personnel at the state branches of the FBI have been trying to condense the lists into a workable number of names and are still doing investigative work. Phillips expects the final list to be hundreds of names when it is finally reduced to possible suspects. He has given up trying to predict when that will happen.

  Gibson and Payne are working together in the field now, currently distributing flyers and doing follow-up investigative work. Other staff is involved as well, spreading the flyers throughout Sylvania, Ohio and the surrounding areas.

  Sylvania is a suburb of Toledo with millions of people, really too large to hope any real suspects can be found using the flyer. In fact, Lou is concerned that investigating a barrage of false leads will only dilute his manpower.

  Lou Schein spends most of his time studying the crimes and making copious notes. He had been hopeful that the discussion with his old friend in New York would produce a motive, but nothing tangible has come of it.

  Reviewing the murders in Queens, Schein surmises that the killer was startled by the interruption of Mary Bokeman and the little girl. He is perplexed why the killer didn’t mutilate the older woman, as he had with the intruder in San Diego. He must have been frightened off. Still, alarmed or not, he made no mistakes; the crime scene was clean.

  How many more murders will it take before the killer makes a mistake?

  Agent Phillips enters the conference room carrying his laptop. “Good morning, sir. I just picked up the list from Illinois. They’ve started the phone interviews, 870 possible suspects there, so it will take a while. Delaware, Rhode Island, Connecticut, Massachusetts, Vermont and Maine are done. The staff of researchers has eliminated anyone that matches the profile. California, New York, Texas and Illinois will take the longest.”

  Phillips hands the list to Lou and continues, “Most of the medium-size states will be finished next week. There have been some serious leads, but none have proven to be our guy.”

  Schein turns to the crime board, determined this killer will not get the best of him. He wants to go home, hug his wife and daughter, breathe in their innocence…but more than anything else, he wants to catch the match play killer.

  Ever since the academy, agents are taught not to get personal with the criminal. But what Lou is looking at right now, made it personal.

  The killer left a post-it note on Kate Stanley’s refrigerator: Hello again, Lou. It was nice meeting you Wednesday; you play a nice round of golf! Hope to see you again soon! Are you ready for the Eighth Hole?

  Lou has a copy of the note in his wallet. He takes it out and reads it several times a day. He is angry, he is insulted and furious. He has made a promise to himself that he will catch this homicidal psychopath, no matter what it takes.

  David Steadman, Sylvania, Ohio

  Chapter 56

  David Steadman has been in the Sylvania, Ohio area for two weeks. He finds an abundance of public and semi-private golf courses and plays one every day since arriving.

  On the
tenth day he locates the ball for his eighth hole of the match.

  He is enjoying a room service breakfast on the balcony of his hotel. He is in a business suite on the fourth floor and likes how he can eat on the balcony without being disturbed. He will play golf again today. It will be a day of intense planning and finalizing his course management.

  Her name is Marty Keeler. She lives on the north side of Sylvania, and he met her while hitting balls at the Sylvania Country Club where she is a member. They played a round of golf on three occasions and by the second round, he was certain of his game.

  Marty is forty-three, divorced, and works as a realtor. She lives alone. At least no one else will get in the way.

  She is an attractive brunette, petite, pleasant enough to be around, not chatty like Kate Stanley. Her golf game is good enough that he can tolerate being partners. The second time they played, David was so preoccupied with the preparation of the match that he didn’t play his best on the back nine.

  After that round, he was invited to her home for the evening, an eighties tract house in a yuppie neighborhood where everyone keeps to themselves, she says.

  Circumstances require he take his hat and sunglasses off. He wasn’t happy about it, but he has to act like a normal guest. She commented on how beautiful his hair is. She made dinner and they drank a bottle of wine. She admired his Rolex watch and everything else about him. At one point, sitting on the couch, she reached to touch his hair, and he became very uncomfortable.

  He excused himself to go to the restroom and when he returned, he sat in a leather chair with room for one. He doesn’t want to offend at this point in the game, but he needs to discourage her provocative behavior. He tried to play his best role, the sophisticated traveler, just in town for business and a few rounds of golf.

  When she inquired about his business, he vaguely said he didn’t want to spoil the evening talking about work. He did tell her where he is staying and further enticed her with the information that he would be in town for several days. Her attraction to him was obvious.

  He made an excuse about an early meeting and left before anything else could transpire.

  The plan for today is to meet her late afternoon to play a round of golf at Inverness. He is looking forward to it; he has enjoyed his time with her. The match is separate and distinct, and his affinity for her will change when the hole is being played. He is confident he can play the eighth hole of the match without incident, whenever it suits him.

  It is quite late when they meet; he has been practicing and warming up for a couple of hours. She arrives in business attire, having spent the afternoon showing houses to a client. She waves and runs to the women’s locker room to change.

  She putts a few times on the practice green and within moments they are called to the first tee. They are sent out with another couple and have little chance to talk until they are driving down the first fairway.

  “Daniel, I’m really glad you could make it today. I’ve enjoyed our time together. How much longer do you think you’ll be here?”

  “Perhaps another few days before I must get back to Portland.” He pulls up alongside her ball with the golf cart.

  “Oh.” She steps from the cart and scopes the green over her ball while she tries to make her club selection. “You’re going to the Marathon Classic this week, except Friday, right?” She pulls a 3 iron from her bag and addresses the ball.

  David is quiet. She hits a solid shot, but it is fading to the right as it nears the green, and in the end disappears into the rough. She sits down in the car after cursing under her breath.

  “I really can’t change my plans. Too many people are depending on me. I have to leave by the weekend,” he says.

  “I’ve got a good friend, Amy, and I’ve been telling her about you, and she is dying to meet you. She’s quite a good golfer, and I promised her the three of us could play a round together before you leave.” She is watching him as she talks. “Can we, do you think you’ll have another free afternoon? She and I could meet you here and then the three of us could…”

  He interrupts her. “We’ve already made plans for Friday the 19th and that’s the only day I have free. I have to leave Sunday at the latest.” He doesn’t want her interfering with his plans or the course management. He can feel his anxiety rising.

  “I know we planned to play at Whiteford, but how about we change courses, play here again, and Amy can join us? I know I can get a time for us. Please? I promised her, and I know she can be free that afternoon.”

  David finds begging to be completely unattractive, plus he does not want to meet the friend. He frowns and has to keep his fists from balling.

  “I want to play at Whiteford as we planned,” he insists. “We already have a tee time there, and it’s my last chance to play that course.” He is thinking of the match, the only thing that matters. The only thing that is important.

  “Oh,” she says again. “Well…well, wait just a minute!”

  He drives to his ball further down the fairway; it is only a wedge away from the green. He stops the cart to wait for their playing partners to hit, and while they wait, Marty dials her cell phone. He assumes she is calling her friend.

  He watches both of the other players miss hitting their balls. It is going to be a long afternoon.

  “Yes, hello? We have a tee time there on Friday the 19th for two players.” She is put on hold.

  He drives on toward his ball. Why is she calling the course, I haven’t changed my mind.

  She is talking again when they stop, with complete disregard for his concentration.

  “Yes, it’s under the name Keeler.” Pause. “Yes that’s right, two players.” Pause. “No, I don’t want to cancel. I know it’s late, but I was wondering if we can add another player. Oh, that’s wonderful! Thank you very much, we’ll see you on Friday. Yes, three at 2:46. Thank you so much!”

  Marty is smiling when she sets the phone down. David is fuming. In fact, he has lost his concentration completely, and when he hits his ball it sails the green and lands in a bunker at the back. He slams his club into the bag and starts after the ball without saying a word, pressing his lips together in a thin line.

  He made bogey. They are sitting on the second tee before she tries to speak to him.

  “Daniel, I’m sorry if I upset you. Let’s just play and we’ll talk about Friday later.”

  He doesn’t answer for quite some time. The eighth hole is in jeopardy. What is he to do?

  “I wanted us to spend our last outing alone, together. I’m sure your friend is very nice, but I was hoping we could play and then have dinner together.”

  She tries to appease him. “Well, we still have some time after the game. I promise to make it special.” She winks and smiles provocatively. “Come on Daniel, it’ll be fun. I promise.” She is trying to make eye contact.

  “It isn’t what I want. I thought you were calling your friend to let her know we can’t make it.” He turns his hands over, indicating his concession. “Go ahead, tee off.”

  After hitting her ball, she returns to the cart. “It’ll be fun. You’ll like Amy.”

  David doesn’t answer. He stands behind the cart, selecting his club. He is thinking, trying to regroup.

  He miss hits his driving iron, a rare occurrence. When he returns to the cart Marty is closely watching him.

  “All right, we’ll play with your friend at Whiteford, and she might as well join us for dinner too.” He’s scratching his head.

  Now it is Marty who is off balance. “If that’s what you want,” she concedes with a pout. “She may have plans though.”

  They are driving down the second fairway, a par 5.

  He tries to sound only marginally interested. “Why does she want to meet me? I’m leaving town soon.” He has questions now. He is determined to play the eighth hole no matter the risk.

  “She wants to show off her golf game. I’ve told her how well you play.”

  “We’ll make a day
of it.” Now David is smiling. He’s made a decision. He feels compelled to punish Marty for pushing him to include this stranger, and now he will punish Amy for intruding.

  They continue on to the third tee and during the drive, Marty calls Amy and makes the arrangements.

  “So, she’ll join us for dinner?” David is looking forward to a delectable evening with the two women.

  “Yes,” says Marty, and she’s quiet and sullen for the rest of the round.

  Both are strategizing. Marty wants Amy to withdraw from the plans. David is reworking his course management. He has decided to play two par 4’s. By the end of the round, he is satisfied that he is in control again. They will be a difficult pair, but he is bored and the challenge will invigorate the match.

  Sylvania, Ohio

  The Eighth Hole

  and

  Friday, July 19

  The Ninth Hole

  Chapter 58

  David is in a golf shop examining driving irons. The racks of clubs are as high as his head; the one irons and driving irons are on the same rack. He can’t seem to find what he wants and keeps walking around and around the rack touching various brands and styles.

  He reaches for a club at eye level. When he grasps the blade to pull the club from the rack, his hand starts to bleed. The blade is razor sharp. He gasps a loud “ouch!” and drops the club. Blood drips onto his shirt and slacks then to the floor. He reaches for his handkerchief with his uninjured hand and wraps it tightly around to stop the bleeding, then turns to see if anyone has noticed.

  When he turns back around, he is no longer in the golf shop; instead he’s in the processing room of the packing plant. The din of the howling machines is overwhelming, and the butchers are holding golf clubs instead of knives. The cow carcasses are hanging by hooks and moving along the conveyor. The butchers are swinging the clubs at the carcasses as if they are wielding cleavers.