Jack Zane: Evil at Storm Lake

by Jan Sumner

  Chapter 21

  As they poured through all the information Jonathan realized just how much material they had. It’s funny, he thought, as you gather all this stuff, it comes to you in bits and pieces, then when you sit down to put it all together…well, there’s an amazing amount.

  No matter, he and Amy were both excited and nervous about getting started. It took them two solid days to sort and arrange, and as they went through this process, Jonathan was haunted by what Sharon Weiss had told him. A call from nowhere telling her Zane had a son out there somewhere…a most chilling thought.

  He couldn’t dwell on that however, the task at hand was to write the book. He’d been thinking about a title, and the only thing he’d come up with so far was “Reaching From the Grave,” or “Buried, But Still Alive.” Amy wasn’t thrilled with either title, so apparently he’d have to do some more thinking.

  He hunkered down for what he hoped would be several days of hard work. He was looking forward to it. The process, albeit slow, was always invigorating. There was nothing he loved more than to get into that zone, the story would just flow out of his mind and onto the page and, before he knew it he’d written several thousand words. The second day he was there, rolling. He’d completed the introduction and was well into the first chapter, it was falling into place.

  Late in the afternoon the phone rang. It sounded far away, he was in that special place…distant, in the book. Once he realized what it was, he thought about not answering it. He hated these distractions, breaking his concentration. He decided not to answer, keep the momentum. A few minutes passed and it rang again. It must be important, he thought. Grudgingly he answered.

  “Yes.”

  “Jonathan?”

  “Yes, this is Jonathan,” he said, thinking the voice sounded familiar.

  “Jonathan, this is Mike Hansen…from Billings.”

  “Oh, sure. I’m sorry, Mike, I’ve been writing and was a little distracted. How are you?”

  “Fine. I’m sorry to call…with bad news, but you need to know what’s happened.”

  A terrible feeling suddenly enveloped Jonathan. As if impending doom had reached out and grabbed him.

  “What? What’s happened?”

  “There’s no easy way to say this, so I’ll just come right out with it. We found your brother.”

  “Oh my God, where? How is he?”

  There was a distressfully quiet pause. Jonathan’s terrible feeling turned into a sickening knot in his stomach. Part of him felt like hanging up, not wanting to know.

  “I’m sorry, Jonathan; he’s dead.”

  He collapsed on the couch, ill. Thoughts and memories racing through his mind. How? Why?

  “Jonathan, are you there?”

  Trying to gather himself, he sat up and cleared his throat, “Yes… yes I’m here.”

  “I wanted to get to you, as soon as I knew. Again, I’m terribly sorry for your loss.”

  It was strange, but Mike made it sound more professional than personal, almost detached.

  “What happened Mike? I mean, how in the world did you come across my brother?”

  “Well, this is the really difficult part Jonathan. Remember when we had lunch and I told you about the serial killer that bounced between Canada and the U.S.? It was your brother, Jonathan.”

  There it was, right in the face – BAM!

  His first reaction however, was disbelief.

  “Are you sure? How do you know it’s my brother? My God, I haven’t seen him in years, how would you know that’s who it is?”

  Mike had been through this before and could sense Jonathan’s anger and doubt, he understood it.

  “Fingerprints, Jonathan. The fingerprints belong to a Matthew Smyth, born in Independence, Kansas on May 7th, 1963. Our records show he had a fraternal twin brother… Jonathan Smyth…

  “I know how shocking this must be Jonathan, but I knew you’d want to know, had to know.”

  “Yes…I want to know. I guess I also need to know how all this happened.”

  Mike explained how they’d been pursuing, what would turn out to be his brother, for several years, knowing eventually he’d slip up…and so he had. His last killing was on the college campus in Great Falls, Montana. He was trying to pull his usual slip in and out, leaving the victim in the hills. This time, however, a fellow student had seen the abduction and followed him, taking down the license plate and calling the police. By the time they caught up to him he had killed the girl and was on the run, but rolled his car in a ditch, Matthew was thrown from the vehicle, hitting a tree. He was killed instantly. They’d found some of the girl’s clothing in his car. They were still in the process of tracing back fingerprints and DNA to many of the past crimes, although Mike was quite sure they’d match most of them.

  “I know this is all overwhelming right now Jonathan, but I have to ask one more question…I’m sorry.”

  Jonathan, still in shock and not sure how he was going to tell his dad, asked, “What is it?”

  “What do you want me to do with the body?”

  He still couldn’t get over the fact his brother was a serial killer. Oh, there was a small remote part of his mind that didn’t find it completely shocking, but still…

  “I guess, I’ll claim it. How does that work exactly, I mean…I just can’t believe this is happening, you’re sure it’s my brother?”

  “Yes, I’m positive Jonathan. I tell you what, why don’t you give it a couple of days, then we’ll arrange for the transport."

  “Jonathan, as sad as you are, and as hard as this is to believe, there is a positive here…he won’t be killing anymore.”

  Mike was right, but it did little to ease the pain right now, knowing what this would do to his family…his dad. Jonathan would wait until the next morning to call him. That would give him time to think of the gentlest way to tell him…if that were possible.

  Jonathan arose early having gotten no sleep. Amy had wanted to come over, but he’d told her he wasn’t feeling well, he just needed some rest. The more he mulled it over in his mind the sicker he got. It seemed incomprehensible now that all these years had gone by and not once had he seen or heard from his brother. It kept gnawing at him, that had he made the effort, somehow gotten a hold of him, maybe, just maybe, he could have prevented all this. He could feel the guilt and anguish smothering him. He’d gotten up in the middle of the night, nauseated, gone to the bathroom and thrown up. Sitting on the couch in complete darkness he couldn’t help thinking about Barbara Wilkes. Now her pain was now his pain, he understood all too clearly some of what she’d been through. He and Matthew had never been close, never even knew each other after high school, but to have all this time go by and then find out your twin brother is a killer….

  He paced around the room, sobbing, talking to himself and wondering out loud how he was going to tell his dad. He’d already had enough sorrow in his life, losing his wife and best friend before their lives had actually started. Now one of his two sons was dead, having died in disgrace and infamy. How do you tell him, what words? He didn’t know, but he’d have to figure out a way.

  Although tired and emotionally spent, he made the call. He wasn’t even sure what he was going to say. It was Sunday morning, he wanted to catch his dad before he left for church.

  “Hello.”

  “Dad, it’s Jonathan.”

  “How are you son? It’s good to hear from you.”

  Jonathan felt weak, not sure he could go through with this. “Dad, I have something very serious and sad to tell you.”

  There was silence at the other end, he could almost hear his dad bracing himself for the worst.

  “I’m not sure exactly how to say this…”

  “Just say it, Jonathan.”

  “Matthew is dead…was killed.”

  After a disquieting pause, “How?”

  “Dad, I’m so sorry…”

&
nbsp; “How Jonathan? How was he killed?”

  “Running from the police. His car ran off the road into a ditch, rolled and he flew out hitting a tree. He was killed instantly.”

  “Thank God for that. Why was he running? Where did this happen?”

  There was no easy way, how do you dance around something like this? You don’t, you can’t.

  “He was running from the police because he’d raped and murdered a college student…in Montana.

  “Dad, I don’t quite know how to say this, but Matthew had become a serial killer moving back and forth across the border from Canada to the U.S. killing, robbing and raping. The police had been after him for years. It finally came to an end two nights ago.”

  He collapsed on the couch, barely able to hold onto the phone, his hand shaking. He could hear his dad crying, unable to speak.

  “Dad are you all right?”

  “How did this happen Jonathan,” he said in a trembling voice. “My God I’ve never heard anything so horrible…my son a killer, God, it’s beyond comprehension.”

  “I know dad, I can’t believe it either. I feel guilty. I never even made an attempt to find him, see what he was doing. I keep thinking had I made the effort, maybe this wouldn’t have happened.”

  “Don’t blame yourself, if anyone is to blame it’s me. He was my son and once he left I tried to put him out of my mind. He’d been so difficult to raise, I’m sorry to say, I was glad to see him go. But with kids you always hope they’ll find themselves, you know, get their lives straightened out, then come back and everything will be okay. But, Matthew was different, I never sensed that about him. He always seemed to look for trouble. After awhile, I just gave up…and that’s my fault. A parent should never give up…never!”

  “Dad, you were right, Matthew was different. I never told you about some of the things he did when we were kids, but some of them were pretty terrible. I guess, like you, I hoped he’d go away and turn his life around. He didn’t, and I’m sure, beating ourselves up, isn't going to change anything now. I wish like anything it had turned out differently…but it didn’t.”

  They were both exhausted and depressed. They said good-bye, agreeing to talk in a couple of days and decide what to do with his body.

  Jonathan walked over to his desk and looked at all the material on Jack Zane then reached out and swiped it off onto the floor.