Carly knew the type, a lifelong prostitute, aged beyond her years and grasping for whatever meager life she could eke out on the streets doing cheap tricks, avoiding arrest and living without hope for anything better. Getting high was all that was left.
The investigation had indicated she went to the motel with an unknown “John” on the Thursday night prior, just before midnight. The desk clerk gave a statement saying the woman had a standing room at the motel and had checked in twice before on that evening. He knew this for a fact, because the office kept the key for her. Along with the key she picked up a set of towels with each new trick. The clerk had not seen any of the other tricks, nor the last one and he normally wouldn’t have, so there appeared to be nothing out of the ordinary when she picked up her key the last time. The clerk and Arlene made a little small talk and that was it. When DiNardo didn’t return the key later, the clerk just figured she was doing the last trick of the night or pulling another all-nighter. She had done this before and the clerk found nothing uncommon about it this time.
“Forensic reports indicated the victim had sex both anally and vaginally that night, plus semen was found in her stomach. The freshest semen and tissue samples indicated that just prior to her death she had anal and vaginal sex. Fortunately for the benefit of the investigation she didn’t require her tricks to use condoms, or at least the last guy she had been with didn’t. In time he might wish he had, as she had tested positive for a STD virus. So despite what she did with the first two tricks the police were pretty sure they knew what she did with this guy. Tissue and semen samples indicated her last partner was a white male. Pubic hairs on the body indicated that at least one of her partners that night had brown hair. The frequency of the hairs found on the body, around the scene, including the last towel she used, led the investigators to believe it was probably the last “John” who had the brown hair. Other hair at the scene, but in small quantities indicated one of her previous tricks was African American and one had red hair. A review of the scene showed she and the killer played some pretty kinky games. He had gagged her, tied her to the headboard of the bed, then beat her with a leather whip."
Clearing his throat, the little man continued on in a dry tone as if reading a weather report, “Somewhere during this scenario, the ‘John’ broke her neck.”
Carly tried to understand if Sully was callous to the murder, or if he was steeling himself against the horrors a homicide detective saw on a routine basis.
Whatever the reason, Sully continued on almost in a monotone. “Bruises along the neckline and the jaw indicated the killer snapped her neck using something like a hammerlock. Essentially he did it with his bare hands. The lab put the time of death at or about one o’clock Friday morning, just an hour or so after she had checked into the motel. Obviously the most significant aspect of the cause of death was the strength it took to do that. Anyone who has ever spent anytime along the strip, would know there are some pretty big goons out there, so the means by which she died did not strike the police as terribly abnormal, but it did raise a few eyebrows.
Adding a little opinion of his own, Sully tossed in, “However, some muscle boy, hyped up on crank, meth or a million other drugs out there could do something like that quite easily.”
With the time frame they had, the forensics people could not tell at what point in the evening’s fun and games she had been murdered, whether before, after, or during the sodomy and intercourse. A brutal beating had occurred, a lot worse than the usual ‘S and M’ games some guys get into. The murderer meant to kill her and went all out. It explains the use of a pillowcase as an impromptu gag. It was the kinkiness of a gag the guy was after; he knew he was going to really hurt her. The killer didn’t want her screaming like he knew she would. However, there were no abrasions and bruising in the mouth or on the lips so it did not appear that she was gagged against her will. He did a pretty good job as he had the pillowcase pretty far down her throat, she might have suffocated in time. Arlene had an idea what she was getting into…but only up to a point.
“Nobody ever imagines they are getting into murder.”
A wave of revulsion came over Carly as he thought of the type of person who would prey on someone like Arlene DiNardo.
“No one else in the motel remembered Arlene coming in with this last guy. No one saw the ‘John’. No one heard anything. Keep in mind this is the type of place where remembering what your neighbor does can get you into trouble, so we weren’t alarmed or surprised by the lack of witnesses.”
The precinct detectives had talked to the victim’s known acquaintances; other hookers and such, no one out on the street had seen her pick this guy up. She had been working a corner alone that night, but that wasn’t unusual for her. She wasn’t part of a stable so she kept to herself. Her sometime roommate was another prostitute who had been arrested earlier in the night on a vice sweep, so her whereabouts can be accounted. To some extent that would also explain why she was working a corner alone, trying to keep a low profile in case the paddy wagon was still rolling. Plus, she was pretty old to be working the street, thus standing by herself would alleviate any comparison to the teeny-boppers that make up the bulk of the harpies working the strip. Staying by herself also kept her on the street longer that night, as the vice boys usually go for the groups.
Sully added in disgust, “…get them in bulk and save time, so to speak.”
From Carly’s perspective, all things being what they were, there was nothing terribly unusual about this homicide, a hooker picks up a guy, things get a little too rough and he kills her.
Sully confirmed his viewpoint as he explained the initial investigative protocols. “Initially, Central Command wasn’t involved beyond the usual quickie review they do for all murders. The local precinct handled the investigation. It wasn’t until the police saw some similarities with the other two murder cases and linked all the deaths together that Central got involved with this case specifically.”
“Part of a bigger whole, if you know what I mean,” Sully said as he glanced over at his passenger.
Sully finished his review of the first case as they pulled into the driveway to the Embassy.
Interested in this foray back into homicide, Carly told the detective, “Come on in with me. I can check in and get my bag up to the room while you tell me about the other murders.”
Sully smiled at Carly’s poorly disguised excitement. “Always the detective,” he thought eyeing up Carly more intently. “Always the detective, no matter if it is a routine murder or a serial killer at work, this guy is still a cop at heart.”
As Carly went through the motions of getting his reservation and room key quickly as he could, Sully continued his saga during their ride up the elevator and into the room. “The second victim wasn’t a professional hooker. She wasn’t a paragon of virtue either.”
"Linda Oldman, the second victim, had been a nude dancer. She had been known to hustle tricks a bit, and rumor on the street indicated she had from time to time conducted a little back room action for extra money, but she didn’t have any arrests for prostitution and she didn’t work the streets. Linda had two arrests for possession, both coke, plus one for shoplifting. She was a Native American, age nineteen. She had been in L.A. about three years, mostly dancing since she arrived as a juvenile runaway from Cut Bank, Montana. There had been some history of making skin flicks and doing cam work for porn sites, but like her stints into prostitution it wasn’t a career as she was just picking up spare change. She had a reputation as a party girl…living fast and doing drugs. She lived with a guy, but he was working that night on the graveyard shift from ten o’clock p.m. to six o’clock a.m. for an all-night towing service. He was able to provide the detectives with a half a dozen witnesses to his whereabouts the whole evening, one of which was a police officer who had utilized the guy and his wrecker about the time of the death. He was not a suspect."
Carly barely noticed the room as Sully had his undivided attention. Absent
-mindedly he unpacked, wandering from the bedroom back to the living room on occasion; so as to not miss any details as the detective kept up his narration.
The victim had gotten off her shift at two o’clock a.m. on Friday the seventh. She drove another dancer home, which had accounted for her whereabouts until about 2:30 a.m. The next time anyone sees her or knows where she is, she’s found dead in an abandoned building downtown. That was two days after she was last seen. A couple of homeless guys looking for a place to sleep stumbled on the body. Forensic reports put the time of death about 5:00 a.m. on the morning of the seventh. She was found with her hands tied behind her back. Her body was nude. Her panties were stuffed in her mouth as a gag. The killer had used gray duct tape to hold it in place, which indicates he came prepared. From all indications she hadn’t, been prepared. Her mouth and lips were bruised, there were incidental welts and bruising elsewhere on her body that indicated she had struggled to some extent. Laboratory examination of the body indicated she had been forcibly raped and sodomized. Blood work indicated her attacker tests positive for an STD virus.
Not wanting to interrupt, but he feeling compelled Carly asked, “The first guy wasn’t STD? Would it show up from DiNardo this quick?”
Sully nodded in affirmation, “Yep, that’s what the lab people said. It would be possible to detect already. Modern science, you know. Plus, the insatiable desire for immediate answers.”
Continuing at a breakneck pace, Sully returned to his case review. “We have the DNA testing which proves it is the same guy that killed DiNardo. We are doing the work up to tests on the evidence from victims three and four. The results will be available in another week, at the latest.”
Carly changed into a fresh polo shirt, skipping the tie he had worn for the benefit of the convention people and headed to the door, his ever-present tweed jacket over his arm. Sully led the way. Lost in the detective’s recanting of the cases, Carly had to make a conscious effort to stop himself and look at the door to his room just to remember the number. Smiling at his concentration on Sully’s review, a small bit of himself said he really missed police work, he hurried down the hallway with long purposeful strides. Even the tightness in his hip seemed to dissipate as he listened. By the time they made it to the car, Sully was finishing up his description of the Oldman murder. He eased the big sedan into traffic smoothly, talking as he drove through the thick downtown traffic. Carly saw the people on the streets, the cars about them, but he really didn’t notice them as he gave Sully his undivided attention.
Her car was found about six blocks from the murder scene. Unfortunately, local punks had stripped it pretty clean by the time we got it, so any real evidence was gone. The forensics tests on the body indicated her assailant was white male with brown pubic hair and type O positive blood. Her boyfriend is black hair and says he is type AB negative. We can test him later if we start feeling hinky about him. Neither of the two homeless guys who found her match up either. So our genetic description was pretty clear. As stated, the DNA tests confirmed the fact; the same person had been with both women.
The detective was confident in his next assumption. “Inspector Edwards was betting it is the same guy right from the start. Even though the description, less the STD evidence, matches a million or so guys in the greater Los Angeles area. Even now with the link between the two, this still would not have gotten Central to throw it to the Special Crimes Unit had there not been some extenuating circumstances.”
“Extenuating circumstances? What do you mean?”
“The red-lights and bells went off in the department due to the fact there were nails driven into Oldman’s head in a circular pattern around her skull. When the local homicide detectives saw that, they flagged the case to Central, which turned it over to Inspector Edwards in Special Crimes on the double. That’s when our unit got involved ‘officially’.”
At the description of the nails, Carly’s head had snapped towards Sully. A flood of old memories hit him all at once. He didn’t speak even though he opened his mouth.
“Got your interest with that didn’t I, Professor?” Sully asked with a wry smile.
Summoning his usual reserve callused from years on the force, Carly managed to utter, “Yes, you did. Nails? In her head?”
“Yep. In a ‘pattern’ around her head,” Sully emphasized the word pattern, so Carly would not be mistaken in any way. “They weren’t the cause of death, all though they might have been eventually. The cause of death was a broken neck. The same as Arlene DiNardo’s.”
“Any other extenuating circumstances?” Carly asked snidely, hoping the diminutive detective had no surprises for him.
“Nope. Obviously we figured we did not have the usual rape-murder scenario. We assume we have a pretty sick boy running around out there and wanted to start looking into files for guys who had a reputation for this kind of thing. We wanted to know where they were now. What they were doing this summer. Also, the press had gotten hold of this one and played it up a bit.”
Shaking his head with dismay, Sully was sad to admit, “We have our share of complex and sophisticated homicides in southern California. So the media coverage played itself out pretty quickly after the initial first run on the nightly news. By Monday, the story was buried on page twenty-two of the “Times”, with no more airplay by the local TV or radio stations. Hell, after the likes of Manson, the Zodiac murders, O.J. and such, something like this wasn’t but a blip in the ratings to the TV stations. Even the internet was relatively quiet.”
“Didn’t even get the usual fifteen minutes of fame, did it?” Carly asked in disgust, not expecting an answer.
Not giving in to the rhetorical question, Sully continued on with his review. “Our concern was whether or not this boy was wanting to play some more. Inspector Edwards, immediately thought this could play out to be a string. I think the Inspector had started thinking about your case in Denver right from the start when the nail wounds were discovered but didn’t want to say anything. The last thing we wanted to do was to speculate and start a veritable media circus.”
From Carly’s perspective he was beginning to like the way this Inspector thought: insightful but yet methodical…a good recipe for a good detective. The Inspector was able to go with gut feelings but didn’t cut corners when it came to backing them up with facts.
The third murder played out virtually identical to the first. It was the next month on Friday the 25th, slightly a month after the first. The victim was Sheila Brown, a twenty-seven-year-old Caucasian. She was a known prostitute with a history of arrests. She had a pimp but he hadn’t set her up for the particular trick that killed her. On the night she was murdered the pimp was in a bar with plenty of witnesses when Sheila went out to work. They had been partying a bit, so she got a late start and went out just before midnight. In fact, the two of them had an argument and she stormed out. He stayed behind with his friends just to tick her off. So she was working alone and without a safety net, so to speak.
The sadness in Sully voice could not be masked, “Obviously it cost her.”
Snapping off a bit of sarcasm, Carly grunted, “Poor pimp probably cried over losing a money maker.”
“You said it. There wasn’t a great deal of grief from the S.O.B.” Sully replied with a grim shake of his head. The values he found himself confronting in his line of work were hard to stomach after a while. He hoped that by the time he retired, he wouldn’t end up so jaded and edgy that his golden years were spent in cynicism and bitterness. Once again he reaffirmed to himself he would not let it happen to him.
“Another girl was working the same area. She indicated that Sheila got into an older model van about 12:30 a.m. The witness didn’t get a license plate number. She wasn’t sure of the make or model other than it was older. She thought it was black or very dark blue in color. That was it, but it was something.”
Sheila’s body was found by a motel chamber maid the next morning in one of the dive motel’s along the strip, in fact
it was within a couple of blocks of the place where Arlene DiNardo had been found.
As Sully took a breath and negotiated the car around some construction, which slowed up the heavy down town traffic, Carly appreciated the little man’s use of the victim’s name, especially their first names. It gave them a sense of worth, a sense of humanity. He had always hated it when cops referred to victims as the deceased or the victims. They were talking about people. People who lived and died, who were loved or hated, who walked the streets next to them, sat on the same buses, ate at the same lunch counters. The ‘deceased’ were nothing, nobodies. The ‘Arlene’s’, the ‘Sheila’s’, they were somebodies. A cop needed to remember that.
As he eased the sedan into a clear lane of traffic, Sully continued.
:Like the first murder, the victim’s hands had been tied, but this time behind her back. Forensic evidence indicated she had also engaged in vaginal and anal sex. There was no evidence of forcible entry though. The sex appeared consensual. She had been violently beaten with a leather whip. Her assailant had gagged her with her own panties and then secured the gag with duct tape, just like in the second murder."
Editorializing, Sully added, “This was not Sheila’s forte. Her pimp and some of the other girls said she hated bondage and the ‘S and M’ thing. She wouldn’t do it. That would explain the gag on her and why he secured it with tape. It was more than perversion; it was protection from discovery. With Arlene there was a clear picture she had willingly let him gag and bind her, initially at least.”
From the police’s perspective this case along with everything in general was beginning to look like a connection to the other two murders. The cause of death was a broken neck, consistent with the use of some kind of hammerlock. Forensic reports had indicated it was the same type of hold that was used to break the necks of the first two women. Semen and blood samples indicated her last partner was a white male with O positive blood testing positive for the STD virus. Brown pubic hair samples were discovered as well. The same hair as found previously. Nothing else though, nothing extenuating beyond the horror of it in general. The desk clerk at the motel confirmed the van sighting. He gave us a bit better description, as he was pretty sure it was a Ford, older model. He had not noticed any special markings. He did say it was the kind of van a business might use, as it didn’t have any passenger windows on the sides…a panel model, the report indicated."
MemoryMen Page 6
