by Owen Parr
Patrick asked, “The gender of the unsub is still undetermined?”
“Officially, that’s correct. Although I suspect that it is a male.”
Dom turned to me and asked, “What makes you say that?”
I replied, “This morning, at the latest victim’s apartment, I picked up a scent of cologne, not perfume. It was a bit strong. I smelled that before--can’t think of where though.”
Dom asked, “How do you know the cologne was not from anyone already there.”
Prepared to answer another question, I said, “The only men there were the two uniforms. They had no cologne smell on them. I know that for a fact.”
Patrick asked, “Could the cologne be from the building manager, who found the victim, Joey?”
I glanced at Mr. Pat, “It could have been, Mr. Pat, except he, the manager that is, smelled like corned beef hash. I am positive that our unsub wears cologne.”
Lucy smiled. “There’s nothing in the murder book about that. No mention of an odor, in any of the victims’ apartments.”
I smiled back at Lucy. “Did you expect Cagney and Lacey to pick up on that?”
“Touché, Joey,” she replied, and then added, “Farnsworth has more than ten years of experience in the homicide division. He should have picked up on the scent.”
I added, “There’s a difference between having ten years of experience and having one year of experience while sitting around for the next nine. You know what I mean? Let’s look at victim numero dos,” I said, glancing at Lucy.
Paying attention to the book once again, Lucy added, “Mary Ellen Vickers. Twenty-seven years old. Brunette—an attractive lady. Single. Worked as a court stenographer. Has a roommate, Sally Anders, who was away on a trip during the murder.”
Dom asked, “What about stomach contents?”
“Getting there,” Lucy replied, “she consumed white wine, not enough to be drunk, same as Odette. She also had sushi; crab meat, rice, avocado, cucumber, and soy sauce found in her stomach, along with wasabi and ginger.”
We all turned to Agnes and waited for her comment.
Agnes smiled, “That would be a California roll.”
“Amazing! You are our sushi expert,” Patrick said, laughing.
Dom asked, “No defensive wounds either on Mary Ellen?”
Lucy replied, “No, Father and everything else is consistent with the other victims; the sex, the strangulation. The only difference is that she is the first victim whose breasts have been sliced in the form of a cross. Also, all her clothes are neatly put away in her closet. Nothing is out of place.”
Dom added, “We need a profiler. Too bad Marcy is not here to help with this.”
“Marcy is FBI, not a profiler,” I replied, sternly.
“But, she’s been trained in this kind of stuff,” Dom replied.
“Yeah, well, we’ll find someone else to help,” I retorted.
Everyone looked at me, probably wondering what the hell was up with my response. “Maybe I’ll run it past her when I call her.”
“What about her partner, agent Tony Belford?” Dom asked.
Lucy and I looked at each other before I answered, “Special Agent Belford. He’s probably an expert at profiling, also. Maybe I’ll ask him,” I said.
Dom asked, “Is it a cross, or the letter T.”
Lucy turned to Dominic, “Father, it’s a cross. I mean, maybe the unsub intended to do the letter T, but clearly, the cuts are a cross.”
I asked, “Why Dom? You think it’s religious related?”
“I’m hoping not,” Dom replied, “although if a cross, then there’s a reason for it—a reason I can’t figure out yet.”
“Changing subjects,” Lucy began, “Let’s look at our third victim,” she said, glancing around the table.
“Please, go on,” I said.
“Margarita Espinosa. Divorced, no children. Thirty-two. Brunette. Lived alone in the city. She was a civilian employee of the NYPD at One Police Plaza; also, a paralegal before joining the police. Law student on a part-time basis.”
“Agnes, are you taking notes on all this?” I asked.
“I’m creating a spreadsheet, listing all similarities side-by-side. Is that okay?” Agnes asked.
“Bene, va bene,” I said, nodding. “Go on, Lucy.”
“Margarita drank sake in moderation. She also ate sushi.”
Patrick chimed in, “Here we go, Ms. Agnes.”
Lucy read on, “Besides the sake, her stomach contents showed only fried tofu and rice. Nothing else.”
Everyone looked at Agnes.
Agnes smiled, and added, “Now, that’s a rare sushi, not served in many places, although it’s simple to make.”
“So, what’s it called, Ms. Sushi expert?” asked Pat.
“It’s called Inari sushi, or roll. Thin layers of tofu are cut in a triangular fashion and made into a pocket, which is stuffed with rice before it is fried.”
“Very interesting, Agnes,” I said.
“I assume the rest of the MO is consistent with the others? I mean, the sex, the cuts on the breasts, et cetera?” asked Dom, missing the importance of what Agnes had just said.
“Yes, Father,” replied Lucy, “all the same.”
I added, “I’m afraid we may have more victims pretty soon unless we find the unsub. We’ve had four dead ladies in just over ten days. We need to get on this quickly. Whoever this is, he seems to be on a mission of some kind. Something is triggering his killings.”
“Joey, why do you think this first victim’s breasts were not sliced with a sign of the cross, like the last three?” Lucy asked.
I thought for a second, and replied, “Maybe our killer was spooked by the pie lady knocking on the door at eleven that night. Or, since there was no mentioned of the murder on the news, he added a signature to the other victims to let us know that it is him. He wants recognition.”
Lucy added, “This type of killer doesn’t just start killing like this. These are not his first victims, and I fear nor his last. He has various traits, one of which is OCD, or obsessive-compulsive disorder.”
I said, “The compulsive part, is the one that worries me the most.” I got up and started pacing around the office. My mind was engaged, with all the pistons firing.
4
The room went suddenly quiet, except for me. I was on a roll. Pacing back and forth, I thought about these horrific murders. There was a killer—some maniac—stalking young professional women in our city. Even for New York City, four killings in less than two weeks was four too many. The authorities had been reticent in releasing the information, so as not to create a panic. On the one hand, I understood what the authorities were trying to do, but on the other hand, someone had to say something so that single females fitting these profiles could be alerted and take precautions. Otherwise, this serial killer was going to continue. Unabated.
I broke the silence. “Let’s review what we have, so we can begin forming a profile of this killer. Agnes, please read from your spreadsheet”
Agnes read from her computer screen. “The victims have the following as commonalities; single, brunettes, early thirties or late twenties, and professionals.”
Dom broke in, “Before you go on, let me ask this: are there no cameras in any of these apartment units where these ladies lived?”
I could tell that Dom needed to play catch up since this was the second time he had interrupted Agnes from reading the compiled list. I jumped in. “Great question, Dom. The apartment buildings from the murder scene photos indicate that they are older and smaller. We still need to visit them to confirm this, but at this point, none of them look like they have cameras outside, or in the lobby area. So, I’ll ask the rest of you, what does that tell us?”
Everyone thought for a minute. Then Lucy replied, “To me, that tells us the unsub stalks the victims before he, or she, makes contact.”
I added, “Go with him, for now.”
Lucy sat back and added, “
Okay. He, the perp, probably selects a victim, or maybe more than one then follows them to ascertain where they live, and if they live alone. This way he can look out for security issues.”
Patrick, looking at his notes, asked, “What about the second victim, Mary Ellen Vickers? She had a roommate, a Ms. Sally Anders.” Do you suppose the unsub knew Ms. Anders would be away?”
“Excellent point, Mr. Pat,” I replied, “You need to follow up with Ms. Anders and find out what she knows.
“I’m on it,” Mr. Pat added, making a note on his pad.
“What else is similar about our four victims? Anything else stands out?” I asked the group.
For a moment, I felt like I was in a classroom with me, the teacher, asking a question and my crew, the students, burying their heads in their books, hoping to look studious even though they were clueless. “Come on; there’s something obvious no one has picked up on. And, don’t tell me the victims are all females.”
Patrick cracked a smile. “All of the victims are employed in a job related to law enforcement. Look at the lineup; a court stenographer, two attorneys, and a civilian employee of the NYPD. On top of that,” he continued, glancing at me, “they are all sexually permissive since they don’t seem to have a problem taking in a complete stranger to their apartment on their first date.”
I pointed at Pat with a big grin on my face. “Patrick, you get an A plus for noticing the law enforcement angle, an extra credit point for the sexually permissive angle. The latter is something we can’t quantify at the moment. If anyone has any ideas on that, please let me know ASAP.”
Father Dom chimed in, “So, do you think it’s likely that our unsub is somehow involved in law enforcement?”
Lucy replied, “It sure seems to be leaning that way, yes.”
“Getting back to similarities,” Agnes said, “all victims ate some form of sushi, one drank sake, or sōchū, a Japanese alcoholic beverage, one had white wine. The last victim we don’t know yet.”
I added, “I’m willing to bet our last victim also ate sushi. This guy probably takes all of them to the same place—a place that he knows has no cameras and where he might go unnoticed.”
Dom asked, “What if we took photos of the victims to sushi restaurants to see if anyone recognizes any one of them?”
Agnes replied, “Father, not only are there hundreds of sushi restaurants, but also many other places that serve sushi. It has become quite trendy.”
“Good point,” I said, “we need to narrow down the location of where these ladies lived. I have a feeling our unsub is working within a certain geographic location–probably walking distance from where he works, or where these victims lived. Perhaps both. Agnes, please develop a correlation along those parameters. Let’s get a map and post pins on these locations.”
“Yes, boss,” Agnes replied, smiling.
Pointing to Agnes, I added, “You said that the Inari roll was not a common sushi offered in too many places, right?”
“Like I said,” Agnes replied, “while it is simple to prepare, many places don’t offer it.”
“That’s fine. Once we narrow the location down, then we’ll search for places offering Inari sushi, or rolls.”
Lucy turned to me and asked, “Are you going to share this information with Farnsworth and Charles?”
“Yes, of course. But, we’ll continue our research and brainstorming here, also. I don’t have much faith in those two. You know what I mean?”
“Okay, just asking,” Lucy responded.
Father Dom said, “We know a lot about the victims, but we don’t know much about our unsub. We’re not even sure he, is a he. I still think you should ask Marcy if she can help with this. Or, perhaps she can recommend someone at her office that can help profile this serial killer.”
“I hear you, Father. I’ll talk to Marcy,” I replied, glancing at Lucy.
Lucy said, “When I get back to the precinct, I’m going to search ViCAP, the Violent Criminal Apprehension Program’s database. Maybe our killer has done this before in another location besides New York, and if so, we might be able to get more clues there.”
I said, “Good. In the meantime, Lucy, how about you and I visit the murder scenes of the other victims tomorrow. Patrick, you are going to locate Sally Anders, the roommate, and see what she knows. Agnes, you’ll get our map going with the location of the murders and sushi restaurants in the area.”
“What do you want me to do?” asked brother Dominic.
“Father, I want you to pray that we don’t have any more victims,” I said, smiling. “Also, help Agnes here with the map, or, if you like, go with Patrick. Your choice.”
“I’ll do all three, how’s that? I’ll pray tonight, go with Mr. Pat in the morning, and come back to help Agnes.”
“Perfect! bro!”
Lucy needed to get back to the precinct. She brought up my brother as we walked alone to the parking lot. “I noticed Father Dom is not as hesitant in working with Agnes.”
“Well, that’s an interesting turn of events. Sometime back, I had a conversation with her. She had inquired about Dom’s commitment to the church. I came right to the point and suggested that she look for Mr. Right elsewhere.”
Lucy said. “So, how did she take that?”
“At the moment, she’s currently dating a parishioner who, coincidentally, attends early Mass, daily.”
5
Our brainstorm session was very productive, except for the fact that what we needed was to start building a profile on our likely murderer. Narrowing down our perpetrator was a crucial element in the investigation.
Marcy, although not a profiler with the FBI, could be very helpful with this since she went through the behavioral analysis training—a requirement for all agents. At the very least, she could point us to a profiler within the New York FBI offices. Even though I’m sure, Captain Johnson was already doing this officially, I wanted to remain independent and do things my way.
I wanted to call Marcy, but I was suffering from fear of rejection. In the last few weeks, she had been aloof with me. The fact that we’d lived together on-and-off for nearly two years and we had been close to marriage not once, but twice, didn’t seem to affect her desire to be apart for a while. I chucked it all to her current condition of mild depression. I was willing to wait for her to get over it, for as long as it took.
Back in the conference room, I glanced at my watch and saw that it was a little after four in the afternoon. I made the call, waiting a few moments before the medical examiner picked up.
“Doctor Death, how you are doing? This is Mancuso.”
“Mancuso, welcome back! I heard you’re consulting for your old precinct. What’s up?” Doctor Frankie replied.
“Happy to be back, Doc. Say, listen, I’m on the case about the four ladies who were murdered a few days ago. I wanted to ask you a couple of things. You have a moment?”
“Sure. Let me head over to the files. Ask away. With as many bodies as I get in here, I don’t trust my memory on all of them. What do you need?”
“The MO seems the same on all four. But, from your report, you don’t nail down, no pun intended, the gender of the killer. Or, for that matter, whether the anal sex was done before, or, after killing the victims. Any thoughts?”
“Aha, good questions, Mancuso. Let me say this, from the penetration marks; it would seem that the offender was a male. Any other—” he paused, “any other item that would have been used to penetrate would have left different abrasions. You follow?”
“Yes, I do. So, you’re thinking a male partner. That confirms my initial clue.”
“Yeah, based on what?” Doctor Frankie asked.
“Not on forensics,” I laughed, “The one scene I observed had a distinct smell of a male cologne. I’ve picked up that scent before, but I can’t place it.”
“Funny you should mention that because I picked up a scent on the back of all the victims. Must be a transfer of the cologne. But, since I did
not personally visit any of the murder scenes, I didn’t have a chance to experience that scent in the apartments. Good pick up on your part, Mancuso.”
“Any chance you know what that cologne is?”
“No, not at all. It was almost unnoticeable. I mean, I received the bodies hours after they were killed.”
“Let me ask you, Frankie, was the cologne scent the same on all the victims?”
“What little I detected, I did pick up on all the victims. And, yes, it is the same cologne every time.”
“So, would you say that it’s safe to say that the scent is common to our killer? It would be impossible for all our victims to have that scent on them otherwise. Agreed?”
“Joey, I would agree with that. Here is a little trivia for you: supposedly, Napoleon Bonaparte wore his favorite cologne to every battle.”
“Is there a point to this?” I asked.
Frankie ignored me and went on. “The scent made Napoleon feel refreshed. It was like it inspired him into battle. Maybe our killer feels the same way before going out on a kill.”
“That’s a very interesting point. I wish we could tell the brand of cologne it is.”
“It would just be one more circumstantial fact to be made, I guess.”
“Moving on to another observation. See if you agree with me. This guy takes these ladies back to their place and goes directly to their bedroom. They undress, and he begins foreplay while standing, I assumed naked, behind them, right?”
“So far, I’m with you. I don’t know how much foreplay, or what kind. The ladies’ lipstick is intact in all cases. There does not seem to be any kissing, or oral sex, for that matter.”
“Okay. So, I’m assuming that wherever they met, they discussed the type of sex—extreme sex—they’re planning on having. Then, it was just a matter of following through with their plans when they came into the apartment; undress and get on with it. I mean, no romance, no caressing, no kissing, no Sinatra, no drinks. Nada, just boom.”