The Three Monkeys, a Carter A. Johnson & Kate Menke Thriller

by Robert Schobernd

  Laurel commented, "I take it you don't agree with the growing number of entitlement programs."

  "There is nothing in the Constitution of the United States of America that guarantees everyone equal rewards simply for being born here. Those entitlements remove the incentive to work and advance in jobs and it is the wrong way to encourage people to advance."

  "What do you propose," Laurel asked, "to stop these entitlements?"

  Carter said to Kate, "This should be good. That's like stopping a runaway train by throwing pebbles at it."

  "The key to change, any change," said Peltier, "is causing the ordinary people to get involved. The uninformed voter must be made to pay attention to the direction the country is headed in and care enough about its future to resist the temptation of immediate entitlements in favor of a healthier long-term environment for them and their children to prosper. It may take harsh measures to gain the attention of many of those people who ultimately are responsible for the mess the ultra-far left progressive liberals have created."

  Laurel said, "We are out of time, and on that note, I wish to thank Mr. Peltier for his astute comments. He will be invited to return to continue providing you with his ultra-conservative viewpoint."

  Kate turned the radio off. "I wonder what harsh measures Mr. Peltier has in mind to get the attention of the voters? Whatever they are, the man did not sound like a mass murderer to me. He may be a bit strange and high-strung but not dangerous."

  Carter thought for long seconds. "You're right in that he doesn't sound like a suspect, but we'll check him out thoroughly before we cross him off. Remember, conmen don't sound like conmen or they wouldn't be successful at bilking people out of money."

  Kate made her second appearance on the Atkins Report the following afternoon.

  Laurel addressed the audience while Kate sat across from her. "As some of you may know, yesterday there was another murder south of Jerseyville, Illinois, similar to those known as the 'Three Monkeys Murders' committed four months ago. A sheriff's report hasn't been issued because the investigation is ongoing, but the authorities are almost certain this is a copycat murder staged to look like the others." She turned to her guest.

  "This afternoon we are honored to again have Kate Menke with us from J&M Investigations." Laurel waited for the mild audience applause from the meager group to subside before addressing Kate. "Can you share with us your thoughts on the recent murder as well as the original 'Three Monkeys Murders'?"

  "The victim is Edwin R. Goodman. His death appears to have been staged to emulate the trio of deaths you mentioned. The crime scene was made to look somewhat like the original murder scene which was only four miles away. However, the killer had to guess at details of the original murders because they had not been released to the press. The Sheriff's Department is currently waiting for lab results they are sure will give credence to their theory that Goodman's death was a copycat killing to cover up the real motives for the crime."

  "Can you share with us some of the issues the crime lab is working?"

  "In that it does not comprise the original three murders, yes. I understand blood samples were taken at the home of the prime suspect, and DNA tests are being run to see if they match that of Mr. Goodman. Also, the steel rod is being examined to learn if it is the same exact metallurgy as the original murder instruments signifying that it came from the same batch of steel that we know the original murderer has."

  Laurel turned to the audience. "It's interesting how modern forensic science plays such a major role in criminal investigation. No longer is the investigation of crimes confined only to footwork and interrogations by detectives." She turned back to Kate. "Speaking of detectives, is there any news to report on the original trio of murders?"

  "Very little I'm afraid. We are still looking for a link between the three victims. It could be something as simple as the fact that they were African American, Jewish and European Caucasian. Or it might be the killer was addressing actions of the victims he perceived to warrant their deaths. Perhaps the Three Monkeys are the key; See No Evil, Hear No Evil and Speak No Evil may be the answer in some perverted way. I'm sure at some point we will find whatever traits the demented killer used to group them together. We must get that sick person isolated from society and confined where he cannot continue to torture and murder people for whatever sick reasons his diabolical mind dictates."

  "Thank you, Kate, I sincerely wish you and your partner good luck in catching the killer." Laurel and the audience applauded as the studio lights dimmed.

  The killer fumed as the TV show ended. He was unappreciative of the names he'd been called but had to stay above the name-calling and focus on his mission. What bothered him even more was that the two detectives might succeed where the police had been stymied and had given up even before a concerted investigation began. He could not afford to let that happen; there was still much more to be done and he would not allow them to learn his identity and shut his mission down at this point. Perhaps it's time to step up my game plan and convince them to back off before one of them is injured. Severely injured. Yes, they need to be confronted on a personal basis so they realize the risk to them is real. I believe I know exactly how to get their attention and cause them to stop and assess the dangerous position they have willingly placed themselves in.

  Kate left the TV studio's parking lot in her pearl Escalade. At the four-lane street, she stopped and took time to survey the area thoroughly before moving on. Satisfied nothing was amiss, she turned right, slipped into light traffic and accelerated toward the office.

  Chapter Six

  Sheriff Kahl phoned Carter the following morning regarding his summoning the detectives to Jersey County to view Ed Goodman's mutilated, naked body. They discussed the Goodman case at length before Carter switched topics.

  "Sheriff, could I ask a favor of your department? We've come up with the name of a person of interest in our case. Do you know Ronald Sontag, nickname ‘Razor’?"

  Unbridled laughter erupted from Sheriff Kahl. "Ronnie is a town joke. He's a wannabe tough guy. He even gave himself the Razor moniker. He gets in minor trouble now and then by shooting off his mouth, especially when he's drinking. He's been in a few fistfights, but has yet to win one as I recall. As far as I know, he never does anything serious enough to stand trial for. If he did something big and bad, his redneck momma would whoop his ass to next month and back again. I'll check with the city police chief to see if Ronnie's done anything criminal there lately, but I'll bet he's still just making noise. Usually he hangs out at The Office, a small bar in town. They put up with him because Big John Oates is the owner and he'd kick Ronnie's ass if he started serious trouble. I'd vouch that he isn't the killer you're looking for. For starters, he's not smart enough to pull something that complicated off without getting nailed for it."

  They spoke for another ten minutes before Carter ended the call then gathered Kate and Deline in his office.

  "Sheriff Kahl had this report emailed to me while we talked a few minutes ago. I'll skim through it and then give it to Deline to file.” He grudgingly hung a pair of reading glasses on his nose before picking up the two pages.

  "Forensics confirms Goodman's death was a copycat killing. The young man had a high level of heroin in his system, and his cause of death was suffocation. His head was impaled by the steel rod after he died. Their report notes the size of the bar is a #3 diameter, and the metallurgy didn't match that of the three other pieces previously used. It was sawn to a length of twenty and three-eighths inches with a hacksaw blade whereas the others had been cut to precisely eighteen inches in length with an abrasive wheel before the ends were shaped. Also, the white spray paint used was satin finish and a different brand than the gloss paint used to outline the first three murder victims."

  Carter looked up and grinned. "Here's the best part. Sherriff Kahl arrested Goodman's brother-in-law, Ted Bonn, for the crime based on blood found at the suspect’s home and matching rebar and paint f
ound there. The suspect had been in an affair with the victim's wife for at least six months. Ed's wife, Shirley Goodman, was arrested as an accomplice and co-conspirator. She and Bonn attempted to flee, but both were caught and arrested before they got to Kansas City. They're being held in the Jersey County Jail pending the results of the DNA test being run. On a motion from the County Attorney, bail was denied for both suspects."

  "We also talked about Ronald 'Razor' Sontag. Kahl knows the man and guarantees he isn't the man we're looking for. I'll take his word for that and move on."

  He passed the report to Deline. "So, we're back to the original three murders and no clues on any of them."

  Kate added, "At least we didn't have to expend time and energy chasing that Sontag character."

  Deline was somber as she said, "So far, Mr. Estes has not complained about our charges. But he may if he feels we are simply running up his bill by chasing the Jerseyville clown.

  "If we are finished, I have another issue – a request, really – to discuss. Will either of you consider using me in the field occasionally in addition to my office duties?"

  "That's ironic; we discussed that issue recently but haven't approached you about it. Kate and I have worked together long enough that she anticipates my moves and covers my back like an experienced partner should. If you want to get into that end of the business, you'll need training before taking part in the field with us."

  "I have given that serious thought, and I look forward to learning the needed skills. I say that fully grasping the possible danger involved."

  Carter looked at her intently. "Plan to go to a shooting range this weekend so I can judge your shooting skill. That Beretta you carry is a nice weapon."

  Deline smiled smugly. "We can go to the range I frequent. It's close by and they know me. I will even pay the guest fee for you to shoot."

  At home that night, Deline laid thinking of where her life's evolution had placed her. Unlimited material possessions were always available even as a young child. Both of her parents were recognized professionals at the top of their career fields. She reached the age of maturity in a progressive liberal atmosphere and suffered later for it. Her immaturity resulted in irresponsibility that led to failed relationships ending in two failed marriages. Bad choices were made without benefit of strict loving parental guidance. Not that her parents did not love her; she knew they did, but in a loose, detached way. She was like a social experiment to them; a study of what could go right or wrong without regard to how she would be affected in the long term. Luckily, she had the intellect and internal fortitude to evaluate the rights and wrongs in her life and make adjustments along the way. Those strengths pulled her back from the brink of emotional collapse. She had avoided alcoholism and drug abuse only because of that intelligence and inner strength. Wrong choices were routinely made because she wasn't ready to accept responsibility for chasing after the wrong men for the wrong reasons. She had been wild but not crazy wild.

  Then at the glorious age of thirty-four, she finally met a man she could cling to and grow old with. Carter A. Johnson. Not a mega-rich aristocrat or mover and shaker on the international scene, but a plain and humble man of character and honor. Not that she would ever consider making a move on him; she couldn't conceive of attempting to break up the loving, sensual relationship he and Kate shared. Some things in life were worthy of respect and their relationship was the epitome of that.

  And then there was Kate. There had been a few discrete liaisons with ladies she deemed desirable. Kate certainly fit that category. Kate, on the outside, blonde, blue eyed, petite, slender, alabaster skin. Her finer attributes embodied intelligence, wisdom, motivation, warmth, strength and unrelenting stamina. She was a person anyone of high values and expectations should be gratified to share a life with. But again, she too was off limits. But if either was left alone due to the untimely death of their mate, the survivor would be chased shamelessly.

  It was a short night for Deline; she was in the office as usual before nine the next morning.

  Kate woke a few minutes after nine and snuggled close to Carter. He lay on his right side facing away from her. She nudged his knees with hers until he assumed a more fetal-like position for her to mold her body to. Her left hand caressed his shoulder before wandering to his chest and then downward. She gripped him firmly as he stirred and strove to awaken. His eyes opened to narrow slits then closed as a smile showed his pleasure while his breathing increased.

  Kate stared with approval as Carter rose to hurry to the bathroom. His broad, tanned shoulders flexed and the muscles bunched and relaxed in rhythm with his stretching. Angry scars marred his smooth skin, lasting reminders of the dangers he'd faced and overcome during the past twenty years.

  An hour and a half later, Deline phoned the satiated couple to inform Kate of an appointment at one that afternoon with a potential new customer. Kate ended the call and turned to Carter. "Play time is over. We have a new client appointment after lunch."

  Carter reached for her, but her petite form slipped out of his grasp and ran to the bathroom. He lay on two pillows against the headboard enjoying the stunning vision of his beautiful and desirable mate.

  Chapter Seven

  The entrance door at Ryan's St. Louis Armory swung shut behind Carter. He and Deline arrived in separate cars for an appointment on the shooting range at ten Saturday morning. As they approached a display case on the left wall, Deline said, "Good morning, Mr. Ryan."

  "Good morning back at you, Deline. You know damn well my name is Charlie, so who's that big lug you're trying to impress with that Mr. shit?"

  "Charlie, this big lug is my boss, Carter Johnson. Be especially nice to him. He wants to know if I can shoot straight."

  A deep belly laugh erupted from Charlie's overhang. "Shoot straight?" He stared at Carter. "Hell, this gal can shoot the nuts off a gnat at fifty feet…I know what she packs. What are you shooting today, Carter?"

  Carter laid the NRA satchel on the counter. "The magazine is out and the chamber is cleared." He showed Charlie the open butt and pulled the slide back to show the empty chamber before handing it across the counter.

  "Nice weapon. Glock 23 in .40 caliber. Seen a lot of Glocks in the heavier calibers over the last few years." He handed the Glock back to Carter. "You two have station seventeen this morning. Deline has already put you on her credit card so you're good to go, unless you need ammo."

  An hour later, Carter signed a contract for a year's membership for him and Kate. Deline left after shooting. "Private Investigator, huh, Mr. Johnson? That's why you wanted to know if Ms. Durand could shoot. Satisfied?"

  "Oh yes, she can shoot. I was impressed, and I don't impress easily. I'll be seeing you at least monthly and most likely more often."

  Early the following Monday, the detectives drove southwest out of St. Louis through rolling foothills and small communities. Farms dotted the landscape on both sides of the meandering two-lane rural highway. Carter pushed the Mustang hard over the twisting, hilly blacktop road. Kate sat wedged deep into the bucket seat and let him have his fun playing racecar driver.

  The Order of White Patriots owned three hundred sixty acres near Stony Hill, Missouri. Deline learned they were organized as a non-profit for tax purposes. On the internet, Google Maps showed several buildings in a sizeable, cleared compound area. Despite thick foliage, Carter traced a road on the map from the compound to a county road.

  During an intense phone conversation, Luther Westbrook at first took offense when he learned the reason for their interest in him and his organization. Finally, he agreed to meet with them only to clear his name and that of the radical group of any involvement in the three murders.

  At ten the Mustang parked in front of a gate at a sparse gravel lane leading off the county blacktop. Two older men on the other side of the fence sat on folding chairs under tree limbs and wore military camouflage. Each carried assault rifles; one cradled an AK47, the other sported an older US Armed Forces M14.
The smaller of the two motioned for Carter and Kate to leave the car and approach the gate. Both men appeared to be near or past sixty but in good physical condition. After showing identification and being approved for entry, Carter parked the Mustang to the side of the entry as directed. One of the men opened the padlocked chain at the single swing gate and opened it slightly for the two guests to be admitted. Immediately, Carter and Kate were searched and their weapons confiscated. The short man closed and relocked the gate while they were led by the taller man to a nearby John Deere Gator all-terrain vehicle. Carter wasn't the least bit surprised that it was American made. He doubted the group's members owned anything foreign made except firearms. Both detectives had dressed in blue jeans and comfortable running shoes.

  After several minutes of traversing the gravel road, the machine entered a clearing familiar to the detectives; they had viewed it at length on Google Maps. Carter counted seven other men milling around plus three more who stepped out of the barn to ogle the visitors. They stopped at one of five small log cabins at the north edge of the compound. Their escort waited until the guests were on the wood porch then sped away in a cloud of dust. Carter glanced at the vehicles in a parking area; all the vehicles were American brands. He smirked – that didn't mean they were American made.