The Torso Murders

by Lee Perry

  “Are you ready for that, Catherine?” Lianna asked.

  She nodded, “I think so, Jordan’s always very protective about keeping gruesome pictures and the like away from me, but we see gross images in movies and on TV all the time that look quite realistic… I think I’ll be okay doing that.”

  “Good,” Susan nodded, “regardless, trying touching different things in the environment; the ground, trees, walls, whatever; close your eyes and see if anything comes to you. This is called psychometry.” She shrugged, “Keep at it for awhile, even if nothing happens, if you have that ability too it may develop over time.”

  “Do you have this ability?”

  “I do,” she nodded, “but I don’t use it very often unless the dead are being uncommunicative or are otherwise confused…” she shrugged again, “and that does happen from time to time. Lianna gave you an affirmation to say at night before bed?”

  “Yes, I say it’s alright for the dead to speak to me in my dreams but not through me.”

  “That’s good, it’s vital they keep a safe and respectful distance. Now, when you go to these crime scenes and start touching things, remember…” She said, her eyes boring into Catherine’s, “as of right now to always remind yourself as you’re touching these things, that the residual psychic impressions may speak to you and not through you, right?”

  Catherine nodded, “Right.”

  Bridgewater, NJ

  The wind distorted her voice and she turned to the side, cupping her hand around the phone, “What?”

  “I said I got came back from a session with Lianna and saw your note about the new torso.”

  “I just got here.” Jordan looked over her hunched shoulder at Mary and her team as they hurried to bag the latest torso before the blustery wind blew away more evidence, “So how’d your session go?”

  “Really well, Lianna asked a friend who’s a psychic medium to come and she said it would be a good idea for me to go the dump sites while the body is still there and see if I can pick up on anything.”

  Jordan’s brows shot up high on her forehead, “You’re kidding…”

  “I am not.”

  “Well, she’s a psychic medium so why doesn’t she come do it?”

  “She has a case in New Orleans she’s going to, and this is really my job anyway.”

  Jordan worriedly chewed her lower lip, “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

  “I do… it’ll be okay, Jordan, I think it’s the next step I need to take so… where are you?”

  She gave her the address and looked back across the street at the line of FBI vehicles parked along the road, “I’ll see you soon.”

  Catherine followed the GPS instructions and when she turned onto Frontier Road, she could see the FBI vehicles ahead. She saw Jordan’s tall distinctive form and pulled their van over, waving to her as she parked and when she got out of the car and she greeted her, “Special Agent Hawkins…”

  Jordan cocked an eyebrow at the formality but still smiled back, “Doctor Bernard…” She gestured over her shoulder, “Mary’s team already bagged the torso but it’s still here in the coroner’s van.”

  Catherine peered around her shoulder and swept the hair from her eyes, “I don’t suppose the wind’s very helpful.”

  “Particulate matter has most certainly blown away…” Jordan walked with her to the cordoned off area, “but then Lucas hasn’t had any luck with any of that anyway.”

  “It was found right in there,” Catherine pointed, “sort of tucked in and under the trees?”

  “That’s right.”

  She nodded, “Looks familiar from the dream this morning.”

  Mary stepped around her van and waved to them, “Hey there!”

  Catherine stepped off the road, “Hey, Mary, is it alright to approach?”

  “Sure, we’re done here, go ahead.”

  Jordan followed Catherine beneath the cluster of trees that lined the road, “So when I saw it,” she kept her voice low, “it was here.” She motioned with her hands, pointing, “It was lying on its back and the arm was straight, at a right angle to the body and pointing at this tree.”

  Jordan nodded, “And that is exactly what it looked like when it was found.”

  Catherine parked her hands on her hips, “Okay, so… this tree…” She walked over to it and closing her eyes, placed her hand flat on the trunk. Jordan waited silently and after a long moment, she pulled her hand away, “Huh… nuthin’.”

  Jordan took a quick look behind her to make sure no one was near, “Are you trying some new psychic thing?”

  “Yes, it’s called psychometry but I don’t think I have it.” She turned to her, “Can I touch the torso?”

  Her eyes opened wide, “Can you t…? No… Catherine, I don’t think that’s…”

  “I’ll obviously use a glove so I don’t contaminate the evidence.”

  “What? No!” Jordan sputtered emphatically, keeping her voice down, although Catherine’s determination still impressed her.

  “How about just the bag,” Catherine peeked around her slender form, checking for FBI personnel looking their way and placed a hand on her arm, “I’ll be alright, I swear.”

  Jordan looked deeply into her eyes and relented, “Alright, but I’d really prefer to draw the line at you touching the bag, let’s not open it, alright?”

  Catherine grinned, “Thanks for looking out for me.”

  Jordan’s gaze was intense but she still smiled, “Every time…”

  “Well,” she turned, looking around her, “first let me reenact what I did in the dream.” She walked to the middle of the road and Jordan followed, looking anxiously for oncoming cars.

  “You walked into the middle of the street?’

  Catherine looked in both directions and when she turned back to the trees she nodded, “Well, everything really does look exactly like it did when I dreamed it.”

  “It matches the sketch you drew.”

  She shrugged, “Okay, now the bag.”

  Jordan walked with her to the medical examiner’s van, “Are you sure you want to do this?” She muttered.

  “It’s just a bag, Jordan, and I’m seeing the torsos now, I swear it’s not any worse than what we see in movies or TV.”

  Jordan opened the van doors and motioned to the body bag left on the van’s floor just inside.

  “Thank you.” She murmured and extending her hand, touched the dark plastic. Closing her eyes, she drew in a deep breath and waited. Now, she again repeated silently, you may speak to me but not through me. A long moment passed and she focused on her breathing, Okay, so… this really may not be my forte... Something flashed in her mind’s eye and she frowned, “Oops, wait…” she mumbled. The white house from her dream that morning flashed and she squinted closed eyes, It looks different, I’m seeing it from the front this time… same paneled windows though... grassy field… long straight driveway. She attempted to approach the house in her mind’s eye but the image abruptly evaporated.

  “Anything?” Jordan whispered, keeping a nonchalant lookout for approaching personnel.

  She shrugged, “I saw the house from this morning.” She backed up and swung the doors closed. “It must mean something but I don’t know what yet.” She turned to her, “Maybe it’s the victim’s house?”

  Mary approached, “Hey,” she waved her tablet; “I scanned the fingerprints with that cool new laser thingy before we bagged it and sent them in.”

  “Got a hit already?” Jordan asked.

  “I sure did.”

  Catherine touched her arm, “I’m gonna go back to the van and write some notes.”

  “Okay.” Jordan turned back to Mary, “So?”

  “Darrel Lesous.” Mary spoke while she tapped furiously on her tablet, “I’m sending you this file as we speak.” She hit send and handed Jordan the tablet. “See? IAFIS got him, apparently Mister Lesous has a DUI felony hit and run record from earlier in his life.”

  The FBI’s Integr
ated Automated Fingerprint Identification System maintained a database of fingerprints from law enforcement, civil, federal and military agencies nationwide and Jordan sighed in relief, “Good.” She tapped the screen, “This is his New Jersey driver’s license, I’m going to head over to his house in… Fair Haven. Can you follow and get your team started?”

  “Sure,” Mary sighed, “then I’ll be done early since you and I both know I’m not gonna’ find a damn thing in his house let alone a crime scene.”

  “Yeah,” Jordan agreed, handing the tablet back to her, “at least you’ll be home in time for dinner. Can one of your guys take my bureau car back for me? I need to take Catherine with me to snag anything with a hard drive in his house.”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  “Thanks, the keys are in the ignition, I’m just gonna get my stuff out then I’ll go. Meet you there?”

  “Yep.”

  Catherine sat in the passenger seat and Jordan dropped her briefbag on the floor between them and cautiously slid behind the wheel, protecting her knees until she could adjust the driver’s seat back to accommodate her longer legs.

  “Sorry…” Catherine mumbled absently still tapping on her tablet.

  Jordan snickered, “It’s okay, I got the habit now.”

  She saved her notes and leaned over her seat, “So, hello again…” she tilted her head for a kiss.

  Jordan obliged her, “Mmm, yes, that’s better.” Smiling, she dug her own tablet from her bag and tapped the screen, “Since we have identified the victim I thought we could stop by his house on the way back.” She tapped open the file Mary sent her and handed it to Catherine, “How quickly do you think you could find out where he works?”

  Catherine gave her a crooked smile, tapped rapidly on the tablet’s screen, and handed it back to her.

  “Okay, do that again, I forgot to time you.”

  “Very funny.”

  “I am…” She grinned, “So Mister Lesous worked at the Superior Alternative Exchange in Red Bank, New Jersey.”

  “SAEx pronounced ‘sax’… and guess what SAEx is known for?” Catherine asked, her tone teasing.

  Jordan began tapping on the screen, “I’m sure I don’t know.”

  “SAEx was the origin of the nasty flash crash Brandon Kimura talked about during Bea’s lecture series.”

  “Oooo…” Jordan looked up briefly from the tablet so she could make a show of looking impressed but she shrugged, “Okay, I don’t get it; I take it flash crashes have become rather common nowadays and Lesous is third in a string of murders, so…”

  “Okay, so I’m not sure how or if SAEx’s flash crash could impact your case,” Catherine conceded, “but their crash was a particularly nasty one and… I’d just really love to get my hands on their code and have a look at what happened that day.”

  She snickered, “I just texted Stewart for the warrants I need on this one, if something comes up during the interviews I can get another one that gives you access to that. Otherwise, you’ll just have to hope the victim had that in his hard drive…” She tucked the tablet back into her bag. “Or maybe he’ll have something at home.” She started the engine and they clicked their seatbelts into place. When she shifted the van into drive and checked the mirror behind them for traffic, a sudden gust of wind buffeted the car, “Jeez, this wind is gonna blow in the next storm before we can get…”

  A small cloud of white blew across the van’s hood and Catherine gasped aloud, “Oh, my god!”

  Jordan squinted out the windshield, “What the…?”

  White bird feathers blew briefly against the windshield before the wind blew them off and away and Catherine uttered a soft choking sound.

  Jordan looked over at her, her eyes growing wide in alarm, “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah.” She nodded, wiping at her eyes, “I had a pretty intense session with Lianna,” She sniffed and chuckled, smiling, “I’ll tell you on the way.”

  Fair Haven, NJ

  Jordan kept sneaking looks at Catherine and nearly missed the turn the GPS navigator kept telling her to make.

  “Watching the road?”

  Jordan grinned, “Yes.”

  Catherine snickered, “What?”

  “I’m just… really happy you found some…” she shrugged, “I don’t know, some comfort and… got to connect to your mother, that’s all. Even if it was through another medium.”

  Catherine held out her hand and Jordan took it, “I’m sorry you weren’t there.”

  “Me too.” Jordan leaned and without taking her eyes from the road, placed a kiss against the back of her hand. “You’ve seemed out of sorts lately…”

  “Well…” Catherine gave the hand a squeeze before releasing it, “ever since Helga Lynch did the talking for my mom and Chelsea… It just really started to bug me; for the first time I can talk to a dead person in my dreams but I can’t talk to my own mother?” She shook her head, muttering, “So frustrating.”

  “But the deer…” Jordan sounded amazed, “that still blows me away… and then the white feathers?

  “Yeah,” Catherine chuckled softly, “that really was wonderful.”

  The GPS announced their arrival and Jordan pulled their van over to park in front of a large two-story house. “This has to qualify as one of those McMansions.”

  Catherine emitted a snort, “Wow, it barely fits on the property doesn’t it?”

  Jordan could see the FBI vehicle that turned onto the street behind them in her side mirror, “Good, Mary’s here.” She turned to her, “I’m going to ring the bell, if someone’s home you’ll probably want to wait here until Mary finds a computer or something.” Catherine looked puzzled and she added, “Telling family members about a loved one’s murder can be really upsetting to watch.”

  “Oh,” she nodded, “okay.”

  She waited for Mary to pull up behind her before giving Catherine a quick peck on the lips, “I’ll call you if it’s okay to come in.” She exited the van and waited for Mary, “Hey…” She greeted her.

  “Hey,” Mary called back and they walked up the short path of paving stones to the front door. “George should be right behind me.” She said, looking over her shoulder, “Although I really don’t think we’re gonna find anything here.”

  Jordan rang the bell and they waited a moment before she rang it again, and then tried the door. “It’s locked… now what?”

  “Well,” Mary sighed, pulling a lock pick gun from her pocket, “the owner was murdered so you don’t need a warrant for me to use this, right?”

  Jordan watched as she inserted the tip of the device into the lock and rapidly pulled the trigger several times until she was able to turn the deadbolt back. “Whoever invented that must be so rich right now.”

  “Or in jail.” Mary unlocked the handle beneath the deadbolt and pushed the door open.

  Jordan entered first, her hand reaching back to rest on the butt of her holstered service weapon, “Hello? FBI!”

  They stood in the middle of the foyer and Jordan sighed, “Okay, well, it all looks very neat and clean and…”

  “Expensive.” Mary added.

  “You can say that again.” Jordan said as her phone vibrated in her jacket pocket. The caller ID indicated Catherine was calling her and she answered, “Hello…”

  “Jordan, I uh… accidentally hacked Darrel Lesous’s email accounts…”

  Her eyes opened wide, “Already?”

  “Well, yes, I am just sitting here… anyway, he has emails from a Cindy Thomas, and she lists this as her primary residence so she’s a girlfriend or something…”

  “And you accidentally checked her out already too?”

  “Uh… yeah. Anyway, she’s away visiting family in New Mexico.”

  “So,” Jordan looked at Mary, “this house is empty.”

  “Until tomorrow.”

  “Okay, well, Mary and I are gonna’ verify that and I’ll call you when you can come in and have a look at whatever electronic devic
es he has here.”

  “Okay, um…” Catherine paused for a moment, “should I keep accidentally finding stuff while I wait?”

  Jordan smiled broadly, “Yes, please.” She hung up and looked at Mary, “Well, shall we go confirm this house is devoid of any evidence, including people, living or not?”

  Mary gestured grandly, “After you.”

  Belmar, NJ

  It was noon when he secured Fair Winds & Following Seas in her slip and went below, collapsing in exhaustion on the bed, forward of the stairs. He fell asleep immediately and when he awoke six hours later, he decided to spend the night and walked to the 9th Ave. Pier Restaurant for dinner, a place he frequented nightly when he lived at the marina. He ate a Pier Burger and a cucumber salad and walked back to his vessel, securing it for the night.

  He connected his laptop to the marina’s wifi and began his research anew. I need to fish higher up the food chain… He stared at the screen, appearing to look through the empty browser window, his hands hovering over the keyboard. When he started writing code, he realized early on that even though creating algorithm was his gift and his life, it was merely a part of the creation ritual. He also loved how he felt preparing to write, tidying his already neat desk, getting a covered mug of coffee, then sitting in front of the monitor with his hands held over the keyboard.

  Disposing of Mitch Ryan was a sloppy affair, but he made up for it the next time by taking care to gather and organize his tools, and after researching how to dismember animals online, he composed a structured ritual on the whiteboard in his living room. Designed to conserve time, his own energy, and still complete his task as neatly as possible, he knew he functioned at his optimal best when his ritual became routine, leaving him room to further refine and create avenues of new thought and ideas.