by Owen Parr
The captain grabbed my arm and pulled me aside. “Or, the killer is going to stop, hoping we can pin the murders on this guy. If that’s the case, it will buy us time until we find the real perp.”
“You should get help from the FBI, and have them help you with a profile of our killer. From the profile we developed, this guy is a narcissist, and he is not going to be happy that someone else is getting credit for his killings. Trust me on that.”
“Maybe we will. In the meantime, continue working your leads,” the captain stated.
I knew my crew was on the right path. I just hoped we could crack this case before we had another statistic.
8
The night had gone by without any new incidents. It was now nine in the morning. Detective Lucy picked me up at the pub, and she and I spent the better part of the day and afternoon visiting the other murder scenes. The only thing I confirmed was the lack of cameras or any security at the apartments. Lucy had to get back to the precinct, so she dropped me off at the pub.
I was anxious to meet with Mr. Pat, brother Dominic, and Agnes. From what I could see here at the precinct, they were going to go with this suspect until he proved otherwise. Precious time was going to be wasted in this political bullshit.
It was already five in the afternoon. The pub was packed and vibrant with the sound of laughter. A constant buzz could be heard as you walked in. Tony Bennett’s, “That Old Black Magic” was playing in the background. Riley MacClenny, our new pub manager, was handling the pub just fine. I waved at Riley, and he pointed to our new office, alerting me the group had already gathered. I said hello to a few patrons, shook a few hands, patted a few backs, and made my way to our new but unfinished office.
My gang was sitting around our conference table. I could see Agnes had started a map, which she pinned to a whiteboard. She used four different colored markers to identify the murders.
“Guys, let me turn the television on. The Mayor is going to have a press conference in a few minutes,” I said, walking in.
Father Dom asked, “About what?”
“They picked up some dumb bastard after an altercation at a store. It turns out this guy has pornographic pictures stored on his laptop, plus other related stuff,” I replied as I sat down at the table.
Dominic asked another question, “And they think this is our killer?”
I shook my head affirmatively. “They’re going to use him as a suspect, and announce for the first time that these killings are related.”
It was Mr. Pat’s turn to chime in. “And what do you think, lad?”
“It’s bullshit. They’ll couch the bad news with something positive,” I was close to livid. I needed to focus on sharing the newest piece of information to the group. “Let me go over the profile I put together with Marcy and her partner GQ Tony.”
For the next few minutes, I went over my notes about the killer’s description based on the nitty-gritty details Special Agent Tony delineated about narcissists.
Father Dom spoke up first after the discussion came to a close. “The data you just shared gives me a clear indication that our unsub is not going to be pleased when the Mayor makes his announcement. This guy, most likely, is going to produce another victim.”
“Brother, that’s exactly what I told the NYPD. I even mentioned that it might trigger an immediate response from this sicko.”
Agnes said, “Let’s hope not.”
I turned to Mr. Pat. “You guys visit with Sally Anders, the roommate of our second victim?”
“Yes, we did. Let Father Dom, tell you about it,” Mr. Pat, replied.
Dom began, “We located her at a friend’s place. I don’t think she is moving back to that apartment ever again. Anyway, she has no recollection of being approached by anyone. The day before the murder, she and Mary Ellen Vickers, the victim, had drinks at Ernie’s bar in Midtown. They met no one there while they sat at the bar.”
“Did Sally remember telling Vickers that she was going to be out of town the next day?”
Nodding back to me, Patrick pointed to Dom, who said, “I did ask her that. She, in fact, told Vickers about a business trip that she’d be taking the following day, and that she would be out two nights.”
“So, our unsub could have heard that Vickers would be alone for two nights. Don’t you think?” I asked.
Patrick’s info confirmed my suspicion. “This young lady, Sally, told us the bar was packed, so, yes, our unsub could have easily been sitting next to them and overheard the conversation.”
“What does Sally Anders look like? Does she fit the profile of the victims?” I asked.
This time Dom pointed to Patrick. “If we assume this guy is going after attractive brunettes in their late twenties or early thirties, then, no. Sally is a cute lady, but she’s blonde and more like late thirties, or, early forties. However, she is an attorney, so, there is that connection.”
“No, I think you have it right, Mr. Pat. So far, all the victims look alike. No blondes.”
Agnes added, “I hate to say it, but all the victims look like Marcy.”
Wow, that was something I didn’t want to hear. I widened my eyes, as I could sadly corroborate with Agnes’s assessment. “You are right. I’m glad Marcy is staying home these days. That is an astute observation on your part, Agnes.”
“We have nothing else on Sally Anders. Agnes, why don’t you go over the map and the points you’ve marked?”
Responding to Dom’s request, Agnes stood up and walked over to the whiteboard. “Believe it, or not, everything is happening near the precinct, Midtown South Precinct—your precinct, in fact, Joey; around West 35th Street and 9th Avenue. If you look here,” Agnes used her pen to point to an apartment building, “The first murder took place in this building on West 34th Street, the second just a few blocks from there on West 35th and 9th, and the third victim, West 36th, and 9th.” Moving her pen to the last location on the map, Agnes continued, “And, finally, our fourth lived on West 39th and 9th.”
“You’re right, everything is around the precinct,” I added. “What did you say the name of the bar was that Sally and our victim, Vickers, went to? Ernie’s?
“Correct. Ernie’s is on West 38th and 9th, close to your competition, Scallywag’s Irish Pub,” Agnes replied.
I sat back, crossed my legs, and posed my question. “Agnes, were you able to locate restaurants, or bars, serving sushi and that drink, sōchū?”
“Right around this area, you have your choice of Latin, Indian, Pakistani, Italian, and a few others. The sushi places are on the east side, but still walking distance to our victim’s places. I found one place serving Inari roll, which is what one of the entrees our victims ate. It’s called Noriko. Other places don’t list Inari rolls on the menu, but they’ll make it if requested since it’s so simple to prepare. One place that has both sushi and sōchū is at Shimizu on West 51st Street.”
Patrick smiled. “Looks like we have to do our research, boss. I’m getting hungry as it is.”
“Sounds like a plan, Mr. Pat. Father, are you in?” I inquired.
“You three go ahead. I need to get back to Saint Helen’s. I’ll be in tomorrow after Mass. Enjoy.”
“Very well. Let’s have a drink at Ernie’s, then, try this Shimizu place. Agnes, did you do any research on our victims?”
“Yes, I did. I also have pictures from their Facebook profiles. You want them now?”
“Let’s review over dinner. Oh, there’s the mayor now at his press conference. Let’s listen to what he has to say,” I said, turning up the volume on the television using the remote control.
In a crowded pressroom and over the sound of the gathered group, a news reporter captured the interest of TV viewers. Speaking slowly but distinctly, she relayed the latest news:
“This is Marlene Myers with WBYW, Channel Five, in New York City. In a few moments, we are going to hear statements by the mayor about four recent murders that, until today, had not been linked to a possible s
erial killer. In the last three weeks, four young ladies murdered in what seems to be the work of one man. Here is the mayor now. Let’s listen in.
Ladies and gentleman, we have today apprehended a man whom we believe to be a prime suspect in four horrific murders that have occurred in the last few weeks in our city. Our police department has worked diligently on this case since the beginning. Up until now, we had been following specific leads to these murders. So as not to alarm the public unnecessarily and prematurely, information on the killings was kept confidential for the case detectives to work unencumbered. In a moment, we will hand out a press release with the names of the four victims. I want to assure the citizens of our beautiful city that we will follow through on this case, and bring to justice the brutal murderer of these young ladies. I will take some questions now.”
“What a bunch of crap,” I said, as I hit the mute button. “I hope our unsub doesn’t take this bullshit personally, or else, we are about to have a fifth victim real soon.”
“Don’t you want to listen to the Q and A, Joey?”
“Mr. Pat, I don’t want to hear more fictionalized news. Let’s concentrate on our findings. We’ve narrowed down the perimeter where this guy seems to be operating in, and a few locations, from where he might be stalking his victims. I’m going to call Detective Lucy Roberts, and see if she wants to join us for dinner.”
“Joey, since these murders are all around the precinct do you think the unsub is trying to send you a message?”
I looked at Mr. Pat. I had never given that a thought. It was plausible, but seriously, me? I uttered a weak reply, “Ah … I sure hope not.”
9
We started at Ernie’s, which seemed to cater to the age group our victims fell into; late twenties to mid-thirties and most professionals. Identifying ourselves as consultants with the NYPD, we showed pictures of the victims to the staff and got no hits. This wasn’t unexpected. Ernie’s was a high turnover bar in which most patrons came in for a drink or two, then moved on; quaint little place—lots of mirrors and chrome. Unless a patron made some scene, no one would remember having seen anyone here. That, however, made a perfect place for our unsub to hang out, and begin his stalking process.
Detective Lucy joined us at Shimizu for dinner. Everything looked squared; the floors were squared with blue and green tiles, as well as the tables and doilies. The designer must have flunked geometry. That’s all I had to say. While there, I brought Lucy up on the profile we had developed for our killer. Like me, she agreed that this suspect under custody was purely a move on the part of the city administration to soften the news about a serial killer roaming the streets of New York.
“Agnes, you’re the sushi expert, why don’t you order for us,” I said.
“How about we order what our victims ate?” she asked.
Mr. Pat made a face, “I wished you hadn’t put it like that, Ms. Agnes.”
I laughed along with the others, “As long as it’s cooked, I’ll eat it.”
After Agnes ordered, we began going over the research on our four victims.
Agnes opened her files, and read from them, “All of these ladies have a very similar profile. They all have college degrees of some kind and were employed in some fashion in law-related jobs. There’s a third category—something we have not mentioned: they’re all white.”
I asked, “What about their Facebook profiles? Are there similarities?”
Agnes flipped a few pages before replying. “Yes. They posted pics that would lead people to believe they were very promiscuous.”
“Mr. Pat noticed that first. How so?” Lucy asked, glancing at Patrick.
Agnes smiled, “The pictures they shared of themselves were mostly in social settings; bars like Ernie’s, embracing guys and other ladies. Then, many of their other postings dealt with sex, love, one-night stands, stuff like that. Some other pics are not necessarily pornographic, but very sexually suggestive.”
“And of course they all show their place of employment, age, and everything else about them, right?”
“Yes, they do, Joey,” Agnes replied.
Patrick asked, “If our—” he paused, looking around, “if our person of interest is using Facebook as a resource for selecting his targets, how does he narrow then down?”
Agnes explained, “Good question. To answer your question, a lot of people on Facebook join groups. For instance, Mr. Pat, you could join a group for, ‘New York Private Detectives,’ or, in your immediate past life, ‘New York Bartenders.’ You know what I mean? So, it turns out that these ladies were all members of various groups. What’s interesting though after doing my research on their profiles, I found that all of them were members of the same three groups at the same time. Namely, ‘New York Social,’ ‘New York Dating,’ and ‘New York Attorneys.’ ”
Patrick posed an important question. “Not all ladies were attorneys. Why would they join an attorney’s group?”
Agnes smiled, “Ah, Mr. Pat, you’re not looking to get married. But, think for a minute. You’re a single girl in New York City, employed in some fashion with the legal profession. You probably want to date, hook up, and ultimately find you’re Mr. Right. Why not join a group of local attorneys?”
“I would, honey,” said Lucy.
We all shared a good chuckle over that comment.
“How many members in all three groups?” I asked.
Agnes replied, “In total, about three thousand, give or take a few.”
“Can you see pictures of all the members?” I inquired.
“Only if you join the group and they accept you, yes,” Agnes replied. “Then, it opens up the pages to all postings, et cetera.”
Lucy took a sip from her warm sake before asking, “Do you think our perp is a member of any of these groups? And if so, is his picture on the group pages?”
Agnes looked up from the files. You could tell she did her homework. She knew exactly how to answer Lucy’s questions.
“He would have to be a member to see the full profile of others. However, as to his picture, or his profile, well, he can put just about anything he wants. There is no verification of any kind. Profile pictures are optional.”
Patrick made a face after tasting his sake. “In other words, Agnes, even if we studied all three thousand profiles, there’s no telling if we are going to find the real identity of the perp. Is that correct?”
“That’s correct, Mr. Pat. However, I assure you that he is in one of the groups, or all three. But you’re right; it’s going to be a monumental task to find him that way.”
Lucy added sarcastically, “Well, that’s a warm and fuzzy.”
“I have an idea,” I offered. “First, we should start looking at the members of the groups. But for the moment, only look at male members. As we do that, we should examine their profiles to see if there’re any proclivities to an extreme and, or anal sex, whether explicit or implied. Also, look at their ‘likes,’ such as restaurants, bars, and food types. Further, based on the profile we developed of this person as a narcissist, see if any of their postings show any of the characteristics we discussed.”
Patrick raised his index finger. “You want us to join these groups so that we can get full access?”
“Yes, Mr. Pat. But, develop faked identities. Each of us, including Father Dom, will become members of the three groups. That way we’ll have fifteen different profiles. All fifteen profiles are going to be females, matching the description of our victims; brunettes, in the law profession, et cetera. And, let’s be sure we are a little extra sexually permissive in our postings, including a propensity for extreme sex.”
Mr. Pat smiled, “I don’t know if I can be that creative.”
I smiled at Pat, saying, “Come on, Mr. Pat, you can share those sexual fantasies you’ve had.”
Agnes interrupted the light bantering. Now, it was her turn to be on a roll. “I’ll take care of the profiles for all of us. You don’t have to worry about them, especially you, Mr. Pat.
”
“What about the additional fake pictures of us?” Lucy asked.
“I’ll do that, too. I have my ways,” Agnes produced the perfect Cheshire Cat smile before she closed her files and put them in her briefcase.
Our sushi came. We agreed to share the various rolls that Agnes had ordered, family style. Somehow, eating the food that had been found in our victim’s stomach contents suddenly became a little repugnant. I glanced around the table. Everyone suddenly looked nauseated. “I think I’m going to have to get a burger on the way back.”
“I’m with you, Joey, and a beer or two. This sake is not for me, Mr. Pat added.”
Lucy said, “You guys are so uncivilized. Eat your sushi. It’s good.”
“Back to our case,” I said, “Agnes, get started with the profiles. The sooner we join these groups, the faster we’ll locate our unsub—at least this is my hope. If our unsub is using this method as a menu to select his next, —” I glanced around, “for his next date, we might be able to get ahead of him.”
Patrick countered, “But how? You plan on contacting all these ladies?”
I thought for a second.
Agnes is sure that she has it all figured out. “I could post a warning on the sites, or, depending on how many, I could send a direct message.”
Lucy chimed in, “And that could get your gig as consultants canceled immediately if the city admin sees it. Plus, our unsub is likely to see it.”
“Lucy is right,” I said. “We need to find another way. For now, let’s gather the members fitting the profile, and join the groups. Then, we’ll see how we go about it. We might need to add more faked profiles if we don’t get a hit right away.”
My right thigh vibrated, giving me an unexpected jolt. I pulled my cell phone out, and without looking at the caller ID, I answered, “This is Mancuso.”