No Ordinary Killer

by Rita Karnopp

  “Catch you at the meeting, Art.” She stepped lively after Cooper.

  “I don’t think your partner is happy with your decision. I guess if one of you has to babysit me, I’d rather it be you. You’re better looking than he is.”

  Dallas laughed. “Thanks, I think. A year … by the way.”

  “A year what?”

  “Since I’ve been on a real date.” She loved how Cooper’s laugh shot out with spontaneity.

  “And I thought I was bad. Maybe Bicsak thinks you’re playing hard to get?”

  She rolled her eyes upward and shook her head. Silently she followed Cooper through the lobby, into the elevator, then past desks of detectives, fully aware of the attention she received. From their expressions and postures she could feel the hostility they cast her way. She wanted to scream, I believe he’s innocent, just give me time to prove it.

  “Hey, Cooper, can I interrogate her?”

  “She’s better lookin’ than the last one you arrested.”

  Cooper laughed. “Be happy to send her your way. IA loves you smart asses.”

  His comment took her by surprise and she couldn’t help joining in on the laughter. “He has a point, boys. If you want an appointment just let me know.” She heard several chuckles as she followed Cooper into Captain Gulchinski’s office.

  “Was wondering when I’d see you two. Come on in and shut the door.” His loud voice bounced off the walls.

  She couldn’t help wondering where the gentle, cordial man that gave her a ride had disappeared to. She sat in a chair next to Cooper, facing the large desk and man.

  “I heard about your B&B, Dallas. I’m not happy about this.”

  “Can’t say I’m too happy about it either. I think it was a warning. I just don’t know what I’m being warned about … or what I’m supposed to wear. I lost everything.”

  “Maybe we should take you off the investigation. There’s no use taking the chance this killer has his sights on you. Serial killers may have a profound personality disorder, but don’t kid yourself, they’re keenly aware of their own criminality and certainly aren’t out of touch with reality.”

  “I don’t agree,” Dallas said. “I mean, I agree with your hypothesis, but I don’t agree I should be taken off the case. I don’t know if the man in my room was the killer or not. He may have been someone the killer sent, but for whatever reason, this madman has made a connection with me.”

  “I concur.” Cooper leaned back in his chair. “Besides, Dallas has seen him.”

  “What?”

  “Like I said, I’m not sure he was the killer. I am sure he’s the reason the B&B ended up in flames.”

  “You saw him? You told me he got away … nothing more.”

  “Actually, she tried arresting him.”

  She found the humor in his tone aggravating. “Funny, very funny. I nearly got him, too. You can be sure I’d recognize him if I saw him again. I’m going to work with a sketch artist as soon as I get a minute.”

  “See that you do.”

  “Captain, we’d like to sequester some evidence from the second crime scene.”

  “Reason?”

  “Well,” Dallas leaned forward, “It’s really my request. I think you have a leak in your department. I also believe that someone has conveniently been framing Reynolds here. It’s my job to treat evidence and procedures as I see fit. We have several pictures of a blood ring we took at the scene. We also have swabs that need to be tested. This information has been shared with Bicsak.”

  “Right. But, we also have a broken fingernail that … we didn’t share with Bicsak.”

  “Why the hell not? You telling me he’s in on the big frame-up?”

  “Now, don’t get me wrong, Captain.” Dallas stood and walked across the room and peaked between the mini-blinds before turning toward the men. “I … Art Bicsak specifically requested to be put on this investigation. I find that strange.”

  “What’s so damn strange about that? The man has ambition. It’ll take more than that to convince me Bicsak should be kept out of the loop. He’s not one of my people … so I’m going along with your request.” He tossed a piece of paper toward Cooper. “Don’t try bedazzling me with suppositions. Next time, have concrete evidence or we’re testing the evidence right here. I don’t appreciate doubts being cast on the men and women in my department. I want proof … am I making myself clear, Agent Fortune?”

  “Yes, sir, and thank you, sir.” Dallas offered him her hand and appreciated his firm shake.

  “As for you, Reynolds, keep at it. I don’t want to hear about a third victim. Now get out of here and get back to work.”

  Dallas reached for the doorknob, only to find Cooper had grabbed it simultaneously. A warmth washed over her. “Please, Reynolds, just let me. Would you open the door for a man? I don’t think so. Then, damn it, just treat me like one of the guys.” Purposefully her voice carried across the room. Snickers and smirks confirmed it.

  “Sorry.”

  Shaking her head, she followed, all the time taking in the room and everyone in it. Did anyone seem too interested in what was happening their way? Cooper dropped into a chair and pulled up to his desk. She sat in the chair facing him. “Hand me the form and I’ll fill it out while you get the mailing label ready.”

  “Great job in there. He sounds like a grizzly bear but he’s really only a cub. He’s a great guy. He and my dad were best friends. He’s like an uncle or even father. His son, Adam, and I have been friends since birth.”

  “What about Gail?”

  “How’d you … never mind. I forget IA has no bounds for information. What about Gail?”

  “Friends or lovers?”

  “I think our dads were hoping for love, marriage, and lots of grandkids. Don’t get me wrong, Gail’s a great gal. We couldn’t get past feeling we were brother and sister. We’ll always be friends.”

  “I think that’s great. Now if you could write while you talk, we might get this done sometime today.”

  “Crusty at times, aren’t you?”

  She mouthed screw you. His laugh filled the room, and she cringed. He single-handedly destroyed the appearance they were all business.

  She signed the form, handed it over to Cooper, then waited while he signed and stuffed it into the bubble pack. “Tear off the copy.”

  “Both are supposed to—“

  “Just do it.” She stood and tapped her foot. “Come on, for Christ’s sake, we don’t have all day.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “Someone close the door. From now on these meetings will take place behind closed doors. Information on this case will not be discussed outside this group from now on. Phones and two computers will be set up on the conference table here. Okay, we’ve got our work cut out for us,” Cooper said, glancing to his right. “It’s great to have detectives Sparks and Weaver back with us.” Surprised there wasn’t a vocal agreement to his comment, Cooper scanned his team. They couldn’t afford to have dissention among the unit, they needed to work as one. “If you all aren’t aware, we have IA Agents Art Bicsak and Dallas Fortune with us. Not only are they investigating the apparent information leak we seem to be having here, they’re also assisting any way they can with our on-going Malicious Intent murders.” Cooper sat on the edge of the table. “Captain asked that veteran investigator Harvey Maxwell come on board, which I might add we’re mighty lucky to have him. And of course everyone knows and loves detective Josh Arnott.” Finally the group managed to laugh.

  Arnott stood and walked to the front of the room. “Everyone here is familiar with the facts that most serial killers are white males between twenty-five and thirty-five that come from middle or lower working class families. It’s known they seek victims from upper to middle class backgrounds.”

  “Don’t think our killer fits the usual profile,” Maxwell said. “He’s still most likely charming, innately selfish, impulsive, and ambitions—“

  “Wait, that sounds like Sparks,”
Weaver said.

  Laughing, Cooper brought them back to business. “Our guy is no ordinary killer. He’s the serial killer type whose gratification comes from exercising power over his victim, and in this case over us as well.”

  “I agree,” Maxwell walked over to the dry-board. “Here I have listed the three murders described in Malicious Intent. Crime scene one is the 2002 Sun River Murder, number two is the 2004 Missouri River Murder, and three is the 2009 Giant Springs Murder.

  Arnott pointed at the board. “It’s obvious all three murders have a common theme; they all occurred near a body of water. Murder one the house was eighty feet from the Sun River, and note that the murder weapon was left on a rock about two feet from shore.”

  “Sparks and I questioned the neighborhood and there were no witnesses. No one heard anything, not even a scream. No one saw anyone coming or going the night of the murder.”

  “We always thought that was strange,” Arnott continued.

  Maxwell pointed the laser. “A large pool of blood in the kitchen indicated the sixteen-year-old female was most likely stabbed there before being led to the bedroom where he raped her. Then she was taken to the bathroom where he, for a lack of a better word, gutted her. He strung a butcher’s gambrel from the living room rafter, hooked the victim through the back of her neck, then fastened her legs open. He pulled on the rope and fastened Miss Helms high in the rafters. We also know there was an arrow pointing down the hall drawn in blood. The bathtub contained the victim’s organs and blood. One of her eyeballs floated in the toilet.”

  “Let’s do some comparing.” Arnott drew a line between the two murder scenes. “Our copycat Sun River Murder added a second arrow, also drawn in blood but this one pointing toward the bathroom. The eyeball floating in the toilet was another item they withheld sharing in the first murder until the trial. Yet notice at the second murder scene both eyeballs were floating in the toilet.”

  “He’s saying he’s watching our asses.” Cooper said. “We had the bedding checked. In the original murder the bedroom was untouched. The bed made. We didn’t share the fact that the killer had raped the victim in that bed before he killed her. Fact is our new killer had raped LeAnn Haffer before he killed her.”

  Weaver tossed his pen across the room. “Damn, information that shows up only in our notes … ah but she could have learned about it from the trial, Cooper.”

  “We didn’t reveal everything at the trial, we didn’t have to.”

  “There’s no way Megan could have gotten this information from any case file. So who knew this information? Our team and the killer, that’s who. I damn well don’t believe our team … not a single one of us … gave out any information. So who else would know these details, right down to the sequestered evidence?”

  “The killer … right? So what are you saying, we got the wrong bastard put in prison for Lisa Helm’s murder?” Sparks turned toward Cooper. “You always said Clarence Stevenson wasn’t our man.”

  “I know all the evidence pointed his way, but I think that’s one of the reasons I didn’t believe it. The killer was smart and some of the evidence we found was sloppy. What we know about serial killers didn’t fit the profile we had for Stevenson. He wasn’t a friendly man. Most serial killers are likeable, funny and even charming. If you met him in a bar you’d probably like him. That wasn’t the case with Stevenson. This is something we need to keep in mind when we compare these cases.”

  “Exactly,” Maxwell said. “Murder two was the Missouri River murder. This is where things get strange. Serial killer, Edmund Kemper said, ‘It was an urge ... a strong urge, and the longer I let it go the stronger it got, to where I was taking risks to go out and kill people. Risks that normally, according to my little rules of operation, I wouldn't take because they could lead to arrest.’"

  “Your point, Maxwell?”

  Not missing the annoyance in Arnott’s voice, Cooper walked across the room. “Last spring I attended a seminar dealing with serial killers. I’ve posted it here on the bulletin board. It’s something we need to remember about serial killers.” Cooper read, “In 1973 Guttmacher described the sadistic serial murderer as one who derives sexual gratification from killing and who often establishes a pattern, such as the manner in which they kill or the types of victims they select, such as prostitutes, children, or the elderly. Motivated by fantasies, the offender appears to derive pleasure from dehumanizing his or her victims. In 1976 Lunde shared he found little evidence of mental illness among serial killers. And in 1982 Danto stated that most serial murderers may be described as obsessive-compulsive because they normally kill according to a particular style and pattern.”

  “Now that is the foundation of what I’m trying to point out here team,” Maxwell nodded his head and crossed his arms over his protruding stomach. “The differences between the Sun River and Missouri River murders are too many to count. If a serial killer normally kills, as Danto says, to a particular style and pattern, then what are we looking at here?”

  “I’ve been listening to you guys and this is how I see this pattern,” Arnott said. “A serial killer usually seeks celebrity status. Our fella sure has done that. As for the pattern, we have to look at the overall murders, the unified goal. He is killing us, raping us, gutting us, stabbing us … we are his goddamned victims. By controlling us, he is experiencing greater satisfaction than the sexual act itself. All these perverted acts are his way of helping society; by purging the corrupt detectives he believes to be destructive to society.”

  “Bravo, Arnott.” Maxwell clapped his hands. “I think our perp has taken Megan’s book and somewhere in his warped mind believes justice wasn’t done. I think he’s committed one of the murders himself and someone else went to prison for his crime, therefore, he believes they’ve all ended with a wrong verdict.”

  “We were the same team on those cases. So the killer is pointing his finger at us? Shit, you know this could mean every one of us is in danger. Our families might be in danger, too. We need to get on top of this, and damn fast.” Weaver leaned back in his chair.

  “I agree,” Cooper rubbed his thumb across his chin. “As we review and compare these murders, we need to look for a common thread between them. I’ve been wondering why Megan picked these three murders to put in her book. Was it because they all sounded good together or was there some other sinister reason? Obviously I’m not the best candidate to ask her that question.”

  “Sparks and I will have a meeting with her. I’ll keep a list of questions that come up here today and we’ll try to see her tomorrow.” Weaver jumped up and retrieved his pencil from across the room.

  Cooper glanced at Sparks, who seemed unusually quiet. “Ok, let’s take a look at the Missouri River Murder. We found a twenty-three-year-old male victim in a fetal position in the bedroom. He was disemboweled with a steak knife. Body organs were removed and were found in a black plastic bag in a local dump. Note here team, this knife was found stuck into a log that was bobbing on the shore of the Missouri River, a hundred yards behind the house—“

  “Okay, people, we have some similarities here.” Maxwell quickly wrote on the dry board. “Weapons used in both crime scenes were displayed in a similar way. Both used knives. Both victims had a river in their back yard.”

  “In this case, the killer cannibalized his victim,” Cooper paused. “Dahmer, Fischer, and Griffiths all consumed flesh from their victims. What’s different here is that the perp created a ritual of this act. Candlelit dinner with china and a glass of wine.”

  “Maybe not as different as it looks.”

  “What do you mean, Maxwell? Cooper looked over at the veteran detective.

  “Are we forgetting the boiling heart and frying entrails? I think we interrupted the perp’s dinner.”

  “Damn it, Maxwell, that’s downright disgusting.” Arnott swallowed hard. “I always thought the cooking scene was for the shock factor. I suppose it could indicate cannibalism.”

  Maxwell listed po
ssible cannibalism on the board. “That takes us to the steak knife left in the victim’s rectum. I would venture this means the killer opposed homosexual behavior—“

  “But if I remember right, there was indication the victim had sex before he was killed,” Sparks said.

  Cooper wondered how long it would take for the know-it-all Sparks to reappear. “True, we did find two types of sperm on the sheets, one belonging to the vic.”

  “So, we have sex before murder on the similar column.” Maxwell added it to the list. “Withheld from public knowledge was the piece of surgical latex glove we found inside the body cavity. Weaver, check Megan’s book and see if this was mentioned—“

  “Actually it was,” Sparks answered. “I was damn surprised when I read it, since I thought we had withheld that information.”

  “Damn. Listen up. The final bit of evidence we have is bizarre beyond words.” Cooper rubbed his chin. “We found the vic’s eyeballs on the night stand with his glasses placed in front of them. At first I thought it was the message he is watching us. But then, following the angle of the eyes, we discovered a hollow-out book across the room on a bookshelf. Inside it we found a receipt for the sale of a collection of Native arrowheads to a Michael Powers.”

  “The man convicted for the Missouri River Murder,” Arnott said.

  “Now that we’ve brought this up, there were eyeballs and glasses at the copycat crime scene.” Cooper made a mental note to check for a receipt. “Does anyone know if it was mentioned in Malicious Intent?”

  “I’ll check it out,” Weaver offered.

  Maxwell wrote vigorously on the board. “We have eyeballs in common. This is scaring the hell out of me, people.”

  Cooper looked at the board and shook his head. “It’s scaring the hell out of me, too. Let’s take a look at the third murder.”

  Arnott cleared his throat. “The Giant Springs Murder involved twenty-year-old female Jenny Baskins who was a topless dancer at the Gold Nugget in Great Falls. She was a knockout gorgeous, long-haired blonde. She had big boobs and a nice J-Lo ba-donkey donk that only added to her charm.”