Joey Mancuso Mysteries Box Set

by Owen Parr

  Tony replied, “I’d say he is anywhere between thirty and late forties. What’s your theory?”

  “I tend to agree. This guy is enticing these ladies with extreme sex, wherever it is they meet. They take him back to their place for immediate sex, from what it appears. So, he is a bit older than his victims.”

  “Let me ask you, Joey. Why do you think this person is a male?”

  I explained what Doctor Frankie had said about the penetration and the remains of some latex from the condom.

  He thought for a second, and said, “Hah, interesting. Well, that was an oopsie. Let me go on. Your unsub is a power junkie. The anal sex act puts him in total control from the get-go. You said it didn’t seem like there was any kissing or foreplay. He probably entices them over a drink, or two, and sells them on the sex. I bet all, or most of these ladies had never experienced anal sex before.”

  “Okay, so he likes to be in control,” I repeated, as I wrote it down.

  “He is probably a charmer. Comes across as suave and experienced. He talks his way into their apartments. Ted Bundy was a manipulator, a charmer, and used those skills to bait his victims.”

  Marcy added, “So far we have a control freak, a power-seeking person who is a manipulator and a charmer.”

  “Noted,” I said.

  Tony leaned forward and ticked on his laptop keyboard.

  “Doctor Elizabeth Yardley, Director of the Centre for Applied Criminology at Birmingham City University in England, defines a serial killer as, quote, ‘A person who commits a series of murders, often with no apparent motive, and typically following a characteristic, predictable behavior pattern,’ unquote. She goes on to list five behavior patterns of a serial killer, four of which, I think, fit your unsub.”

  “Let me have them,” I said.

  “Right. Here are the four that fit: ‘a power junkie, a manipulator, an egotistical bragger, a superficial charmer.’ The fifth that I don’t think fits your guy; she calls ‘an average Joe.’ ”

  “Why do you think he is not an average Joe?” Marcy asked.

  “To me,” Tony began, “I think this person is an executive, well dressed, an elitist type. Not your average Joe.”

  “Very well, the only thing I’m adding here is an egotistical bragger,” I said.

  “Of course, this person is a psychopath, and Doctor Yardley goes on to describe five types of psychopaths. One of them fits your guy. She calls this type ‘the unprincipled psychopath.’ So, what is the definition, you ask?”

  “Do share,” Marcy quipped.

  “Thank you. I will. Yardley writes; ‘Unprincipled psychopaths are highly narcissistic and take delight in wrecking vengeance through humiliation. They love to exploit and abuse other people, and they genuinely enjoy the anguish they create.’ I think the anal sex is a way for the unsub to demonstrate that.”

  I looked up from my notes, “Therefore, you equate anal sex with humiliation, abuse, and anguish? Who the hell wants that?”

  Tony moved in my direction, and with unflinching determination in his eyes said, “Remember you need to add the choking part of this sex act. Let me ask you, Joey, have you ever had anal sex?”

  From my peripheral vision, I saw a crooked smile growing on Marcy’s face. She crossed her legs and sat back stiffly in her recliner. Tony waited for my reaction.

  I responded in kind, keeping my eyes fixed on Tony, “I have neither been on the receiving end nor the driving end of anal sex. So, the answer to your question is plain and simple: no.”

  Tony momentarily became very pensive. After about a few seconds he said, in a serious tone, “Perhaps, as a means of research for your case, you should try it, at least the driving end, as you call it. Once you do, you’ll see what I mean.”

  “I’ll let you know,” I replied, and turned to Marcy. “Anything you want to add to this topic?”

  She smiled, “No, thank you. I think you guys ‘anal-lyzed’ that sufficiently.”

  I turned to Tony and asked, “Let me ask you something before you go on. You agree there was no rape involved, right?”

  He smiled, sat back, and asked, “You know the difference between rape and love?”

  “I’m sure you’re going to tell me,” I replied.

  “Salesmanship, Joey, salesmanship,” GQ Tony said, laughing.

  Marcy retorted, “I don’t think that’s very funny, Tony.”

  Ignoring Marcy’s comment, Tony began, “So, let me get into the narcissistic behavior of the unsub.”

  I leaned back, crossed my legs, and put the notepad on my right leg. “Let’s hear what you got.”

  Tony started his dissertation on narcissism. “We’ve all heard of Narcissus, a character in Greek mythology. When Narcissus first saw his reflection on a pool of water, it is said that he fell in love with the reflection of himself. The story goes on to say that he died looking at himself in the pool of water, unable to look away from admiring his reflection.”

  Marcy quipped, “I know a few people like that.”

  “I’m sure you do, Marcy,” Tony added, “Most of us have some of the traits of a narcissist. That’s how we develop our egos, self-esteem, and self-respect. However, few have all the traits, and there are nine traits associated with NPD, or, Narcissistic Personality Disorder.”

  “And you think our killer has all of these traits?” I asked.

  Tony moved forward again in his chair, he seemed to be enjoying being the center of attention and sharing his expertise on the subject. “I don’t know if this person has all nine. Only Ted Bundy was said to have all nine of them. All other recorded and known serial killers have had many of them, but not all nine. Of course, that’s based on recent history.”

  I asked, “So, what are they, professor?”

  Tony smiled, “Right. Grandiosity is one. An exaggerated sense of self-worth,” pausing, he went on, “Success. This person dreams and fantasizes with success. Are you writing these down?” he asked.

  “Yes, please go on,” I replied.

  “Number three; uniqueness. They think they are different than everyone else, that they are one-of-a-kind. Another one, the fourth, is a sense that they need to be admired.”

  I interrupted, “These aren’t that bad. Having a healthy ego doesn’t lead to being a serial killer. I mean, Presidents Obama and Trump have been called narcissists. It would seem you need these traits to be an achiever.”

  “That’s correct,” replied Tony, “it’s when you add the rest and display all of them in one person, that things can go awry. Let me go on.”

  “Please do,” said Marcy.

  Tony glanced at Marcy and smiled, “Thank you. Entitlement is the next one. This person feels entitled and expects favorable treatment. Then, we have exploitative as a trait. Wanting to manipulate and take advantage of others. Number seven is a person who lacks empathy. They have no feelings for others. Then, there is number eight, envious. They tend to believe that others are envious of them, because of their own perceived superiority. Finally, number nine is domineering. They want to control everything, often coming across as arrogant. That’s it. Those are the nine traits.”

  I looked up from my notes, “You’re saying our killer has all, or, most of these?”

  “You’ll know better if you catch him. I doubt this person has all nine. What happens is when true narcissists are challenged, they become unpredictable, especially if they have NPD.”

  Marcy said, “This is all very significant, but I still don’t know who Joey is looking for.”

  I closed my notepad, leaned forward, and replied, “I think I can put this together, Marcy.”

  Tony chimed in, “Let me hear it, brother. Tell me who your perp is. I’m going to grade you.”

  I smiled, as I glanced at Professor Tony. “I’ll share once I’m done reviewing my notes. I want to have the team together as we do that,” I said, not wanting to share all my findings now.

  Marcy asked, “Is anyone searching on ViCAP, the Violent Criminal A
pprehension Program’s database?”

  I replied, “Yes, Detective Lucy Roberts, is.”

  Tony said, “Excellent, you’ll be able to find a match if this perp has done this before. ViCAP tracks serial killers involved in sexual assault, as long as they followed the same MO. It’s especially helpful if they have a signature.”

  “You’ve been a great help, Tony. Thank you very much,” I said, wanting this guy to get out now, so I could have some time with Marcy. I sat back and got comfortable on the sofa.

  Marcy got the message, and said, “Tony, we’ll talk tomorrow. Thanks for sharing this with us.”

  “Oh, okay. I’ll leave you guys to catch up,” he said, getting up to kiss Marcy on the cheek and shaking hands with me before packing up his “office.”

  “Keep me posted, Mancuso. I’m very interested in this case.”

  “I’ll do that, and thanks again. Keep your earbud on. I might call you soon.”

  “Anytime brother, anytime,” he said, as he walked out the door.

  I sat down again after checking my hands for fractures. “You have cold cervesas?”

  Marcy replied, “Help yourself, I’m sure I do.”

  “You want one?”

  “No, thanks, I’m good. I’m tired and want to get some sleep.”

  This was Marcy-code for ‘please leave soon.’ So I replied, “You kicking me out already?”

  “No, just don’t get too comfortable.”

  I grabbed a Brooklyn Lager out of the fridge and returned to the sofa. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Can I stop you from asking?”

  “No,” I said, smiling. “How many of those traits you think Tony has?”

  “What I think is that between the both of you, you have, maybe fifteen out of eighteen. That’s what I think.”

  “Very funny. Are you and he—” I paused. I needed to ask about the elephant in the room. Although, I thought it was only me who saw the elephant.

  “What, Joey?”

  “Are you and he, dating?”

  “I’m not dating or doing anything else with anyone, Joey. Is that what you want to talk about?”

  “He looks very intense around you, very comfortable, is a better word.”

  “Truth be told, he’s asked me out socially, but I have no interest in going out with him, nor anyone else for that matter.”

  “So, why is he always here?”

  “Remember, I’m on medical leave, and he’s taken over my cases. So, he is keeping me in the loop.”

  “What about us?”

  “What about us?”

  “You always do that—answer a question with a question. You and me; when can we get back to being a couple again?”

  “It’s only been, what, three weeks since we spoke about taking a break from each other?”

  “You wanted to take a break from me. Not I.”

  “It wasn’t necessarily taking a break from you. I just asked for time to think about my future. And, that includes everything; you, my work, my therapy.”

  “How is your therapy coming along?”

  “I feel great about that–so much so, I may want to take the FBI’s firearms test in a couple of weeks. I’m working my way back.”

  “How often do you go to the range?”

  “Three times a week. I’m almost back.”

  “Sounds great. Have you practiced with long arms, also?”

  “Pistols and revolvers are no problem. Long arms are coming along. At this point, the shotgun test is the hardest.”

  “I feel confident you’ll pass the test. But, do you want to rush it?”

  “I’ve set my goals, and as soon as I can do it on the range, I’ll want to take the test.”

  “Have you set goals for us?”

  “Let me work on getting my job back first. Then we can talk about us, fair enough?”

  “I ain’t going anywhere. Like the song says, ‘I will wait for you.’ ”

  “Get your ass out of here, Mancuso. Call me in a few days.”

  I started to walk towards the front door. Turning around to look at Marcy, I asked, “Are you wearing your usual, under the sweats?”

  “Out, now,” she quipped, with a smile.

  7

  As I was getting ready to start the engine of my red 1967 Ford Mustang GT, which is my second love and probably the most significant investment I have, my cell phone rang.

  “Where are you, Mancuso?” Detective Farnsworth inquired, in his rough tone.

  “I’m in Brooklyn, headed home. Why?”

  “We have a suspect in the murders. They are taking him to the station. Join us, if you like. Charles and I are on our way.”

  “Who is he?”

  “Join us. We’ll find out more once we’re all there.” Farnsworth clicked off his phone.

  I made my way to the station, hoping they had, in fact, found the perp, even though I had my doubts. It just felt like it was too easy and too soon. Once there, I joined Detectives Farnsworth and Charles, who were getting ready to interrogate the suspect.

  “What happened?” I asked them.

  “We have the guy in the interrogating room. He’s “lawyered” up, so, we are waiting for his attorney to begin the questioning,” Farnsworth replied.

  Charles cut to the chase. “His name is Richard Mathews. He’s a sales clerk at a lady’s jewelry store. Evidently, he made a proposition to a customer who then slapped him. He came around the counter as if he was going to hit her, and this other guy nailed him with a punch to the face.”

  “What kind of proposition?”

  “She’s writing her statement in another room. She says this guy, Mathews, asked her if she liked extreme sex. He told her he was into choking, and that his partners found it very stimulating.”

  “That’s it?” My immediate thought was that this guy didn’t fit the profile.

  I could tell a slight hesitancy in Charles’s response. “We’ll get more once we can talk to him.”

  “What does the lady do?” I asked.

  “She’s a waitress, at some steakhouse, in upper Manhattan.”

  “It doesn’t fit the profile.” I finally said it.

  Farnsworth asked indignantly, “What profile?”

  “A profile I’ve been putting together,” I replied.

  “Yeah, you a profiler now, Mancuso?” Farnsworth always has to have a snarky comeback whenever I challenge him.

  “No, but I’ve been talking to people who know about this.”

  “Like who?” Charles asked.

  “That’s not important. What is important is that we are looking for a professional-type person who preys on other professional ladies who are in the law enforcement field.”

  Farnsworth gave me his snobby look. “Yeah. Well,… you stick to that if you want. In the meantime, we have a live one here, and we’re under a lot of pressure to find the bastard doing this.”

  I exchanged glances with Detective Charles. He had a look of resignation on his face. He raised his shoulders as if to say” It is what it is. Nothing much I can do about it.”

  The suspect’s lawyer arrived; he followed Farnsworth into the interrogation room where Mathews was waiting. The first thing Farnsworth did was hand the attorney a warrant to search Mathews’s apartment in Queens. He made it clear to them that the search was going on as they spoke.

  Detective Charles, Captain Alex, and I watched the bullshit scene from behind the double-glass one-way mirror. The suspect, Mathews, was a scrawny guy, maybe one hundred fifty pounds max, wearing a cheap off-the-rack suit. He sat there, furious. He wanted to charge the guy that punched him, with assault. Matthews just didn’t look the type to convince our vic’s to hook up with him.

  Captain Alex got a call on his cell phone. Clicking off the phone, he banged on the glass for Farnsworth to come out. The captain told him to get the password for Matthews’s computer.

  “They found pornographic photos and magazines in this guy’s apartment all extreme sex type st
uff. We’re sure the laptop has a lot more,” the captain barked to Farnsworth.

  When Farnsworth went back in, I pulled the captain aside. “Captain, this is not our guy. You’re wasting time on this.”

  “Joey,” the captain began, “right now, this is the best lead we have. The type of sex in those photos is very similar to what our unsub has been doing to his victims.”

  I shook my head, “If you’re going to arrest every person that is into extreme sex, we better open Alcatraz.”

  Farnsworth blurted out loud the password without coming out, “Chokemeplease, all one word, capital c.”

  The captain called the detectives searching and gave them the password. Moments later, they got back to the captain with the news that this guy had videos of him and his sex partners doing it–choking and all.

  I asked the captain, “Does it have anal sex and choking with a ribbon?”

  The captain replied, “They weren’t specific. They’re bringing the laptop and the photos here. We’re booking this guy.”

  “On what?” I challenged. “Possession of pornography is not illegal.”

  “No, but they said some of those girls looked like minors, and that is illegal. So, we’re going with that until we have more,” Captain Alex, shot back.

  I looked incredulously towards Detective Charles, shaking my head again. “ “I’m out of here. I have other things to do. By the way, Captain, when are you going to let the public know that there is a serial killer out there?”

  The captain looked at me, “Good timing on your part. The Chief just called to tell me the Mayor is holding a press conference in an hour. He is going to announce that we have a suspect in the four killings.”

  “Captain,” I said, a bit too loud as everyone looked at me, “This guy is as much a suspect in this case as he is in the assassination of John Kennedy.”

  “Mancuso, look at me. We do the police work, others are in charge of the politics,” the captain replied, staring into my eyes.

  “So, this case is solved? Is that what you’re saying here?”

  “Not until we prove this guy is the killer. Keep digging on your end.”

  “I think it is a huge mistake to tell the public we have a suspect. For one thing, ladies out there are still in danger. And second, this is going to piss off the real killer. Mark my words, he is going to kill again to prove everyone wrong.”