“I suppose so. I really don’t know much. We haven’t been together for months now.”
“Like I said, just the basics. I’ll take it from there. Let’s start with his name.”
Jan learned the ex’s name was Roger Leaper. He was a car salesman at a Ford dealership, he lived in an apartment on Bellevue, and his favorite hangout was the Riot Room on Broadway.
That was enough to get started.
Jan’s first stop was the car dealership. She hadn’t seen a photo of the guy and she knew that most dealerships had a ‘wall of fame’ with photos of their top salespersons. Wearing dark glasses and a straw hat pulled low on her face, she strolled into the dealership. Thankfully, all of the floor salesmen were with customers. She found the ‘wall’ and sure enough, there was Roger’s smiling face.
She could tell from the picture that he fancied himself a ladies’ man. He had rugged good looks and an air of superiority that no doubt served him well on the sales floor as well as the bar scene. She knew the type well --- God’s gift to women. She wasn’t surprised that he had gone bonkers when Gloria dumped him. It had, no doubt, been a blow to his gigantic ego.
Her first thought was to pretend to be interested in a car and ask for a test drive. She could drive to a secluded spot and take care of him right there in the front seat. On second thought, too risky. Another salesman might see them together. No point taking unnecessary risks. There would be other ways.
The dark of night was always the best cover.
She parked on Broadway a few doors down from the Riot Room. Just as Gloria predicted, he showed up at eight o’clock. She desperately wanted to go inside and watch him in action, but again, she didn’t want to be seen in close proximity to her victim. He came out at eleven. She followed him home noting where he parked. At eleven-thirty, the neighborhood was dark and quiet. Yes, this would be the perfect place.
The next night she was ready.
Roger appeared just as he had the night before. His three hours in the club seemed like forever, but just before eleven, he came swaggering out the door. The moment she saw him she started her car and sped to his home. She only needed to beat him there by a few minutes.
She parked where she knew he would have to walk past her, popped the hood of her car, and pulled a spark plug wire loose.
She watched him park, and as he headed her way she bent over the engine block with a flashlight.
“Car trouble?” he asked, coming up behind her.
“Yes, everything was running just fine, then all of a sudden the engine started sputtering, then just quit. I --- I wish I knew more about cars.”
“I know a thing or two. Let me take a look.”
She handed him the flashlight.
“Here’s the problem,” he said. “Loose spark plug wire. There, that should do it. Give it a try.”
Jan slid into the driver’s seat and turned on the ignition.
“There you go,” Roger said. “Purrs like a kitten.”
“Thank you so much. I was just about to call Triple A. You saved me a long wait. I was pretty scared out here alone this time of night.”
“Glad I could be of help. You do look a bit jumpy.” He pointed to his house. “This is my place. How about a nightcap to calm your nerves?”
“Oh, no. I don’t want to be any trouble.”
“Nonsense! No trouble at all. I’ve got a nice bottle of wine I’ve been saving for a special occasion. How about it?”
“Well, that does sound nice.”
“That settles it then. Follow me.”
She followed him to his second-floor apartment.
“Make yourself comfortable. I’ll get the wine.”
She looked around. Typical bachelor pad. Stereo, big screen TV, and sports memorabilia everywhere.
A few minutes later he returned carrying two glasses and a bottle of wine.
“Here we go. This should take the edge off.”
“What? No camera?”
He looked confused. “I --- I don’t understand.”
“Maybe that comes later,” she replied, “after you get me drunk and undressed. Then you get your camera and take the compromising photos you can post online if I give you any trouble.”
“Who are you?”
“Your worst nightmare,” she replied pulling the taser from her purse.
The glasses and wine bottle fell to the floor as the probes from the taser bit into his flesh.
After administering the fatal dose of potassium chloride, she made sure she had left no evidence of her presence there.
She placed her calling card on his chest, and as she left, she murmured, “This is for Gloria and all the other women who have been humiliated by scum like you.”
Then she slipped quietly into the night.
CHAPTER 10
Three days after Dr. Driller’s demise, Detective Blaylock came by our apartment.
“Walt, if you’ve got a minute we need to talk.”
“Sure Derek. Come on in.”
I was immediately suspicious. Blaylock doesn’t normally make social house calls.
“What’s on your mind, Derek?”
He sighed. “The Black Widow. She struck again.”
I was shocked. “You mean another one after Driller?”
He nodded. “Her latest victim is Roger Leaper.”
“Never heard of him. What’s his story?”
“You’ve probably read the articles in the paper about revenge porn.”
“Yes, there was an article just the other day. It was about a woman who testified before a house committee. If I remember correctly, they’re looking at a bill that would make revenge porn a felony.”
“Correct. The woman in the article was Gloria Hancock. The guy who posted the compromising photos of Hancock is the Widow’s latest victim.”
“I don’t remember seeing the guy’s name in the paper.”
“It wasn’t. That’s the creepy part. Naturally, when we identified the victim, our first visit was with Gloria Hancock. She said she’d received a call from a Gretchen Steele who identified herself as a reporter from the Star. She said she was doing a follow-up article that featured her ex and wanted as much information as she could provide. We checked with the Star. There’s no reporter there named Gretchen Steele.”
“The Black Widow!”
“As soon as she got the information about Leaper from Hancock, she didn’t waste any time taking him out.”
“Who found the body?”
“Leaper was a salesman at a car dealership. When he didn’t come in for two days, and didn’t respond to telephone calls, his manager went by his apartment. The landlady let him in. They found Leaper’s body complete with the Widow’s calling card.
“Walt, this is the Widow’s fifth kill. The mayor is livid. We have a high-profile serial killer roaming our city and we don’t have a clue. To make matters worse, half the population is cheering her on. We have to make a bold move. That’s why I’m here.”
Oh boy! Here it comes!
“What kind of move?”
“We’re considering an undercover operation and we need your help.”
During my five years on the force, I was ‘volunteered’ for a number of undercover gigs. Many of them were personally humiliating and provided many laughs for my fellow officers. I was asked to be a transvestite because of my slight build and relatively hairless legs, a john in a prostitution sting because I looked old and needy, and a corpse in a sting to uncover an organ trading ring because I was the closest thing they had to a cadaver.
“What kind of operation?”
“The Black Widow has been targeting men who take advantage of women --- all kinds of women. We were thinking that she might also be interested in a man who takes advantage of little girls.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “You want me to pose as a pervert! A child molester!”
“We think that would be a temptation she couldn’t refuse.”
I was dumb
founded. “Why me?”
“Several reasons. First and most important, you have a lot of undercover experience. Second, you look nothing like a cop, and third, and please don’t take this the wrong way, it wouldn’t take much to make you look like a pervert.”
“How could I possibly take that the wrong way? I don’t think so. The other assignments I could live with, but this one is just disgusting.”
“Walt, five men are dead and no doubt there will be more. The city is on edge wondering who will be next. You have an opportunity to help us capture this vigilante and bring this senseless killing to an end.”
Crap! He played the good citizen card.
“How would this work?”
“It’s going to be touchy. We have to alert the public that a dangerous man is out there without causing a panic. We first thought about a school but nixed that idea. We decided on a city park. Gillham Park to be exact. It’s right in midtown just off 39th Street. That’s the area where she’s made most of her kills. There are walking trails, a kid’s playground, a wading pool and rest rooms.
“The day before you appear, we’ll put out a ‘stranger danger’ alert saying that an elderly man has been seen offering candy to little girls near Gillham Park. That should alert the Black Widow. Then the next day, you will arrive looking the part of the pervert.”
“So basically, I’m bait.”
“Yes, that’s true, but we’ll have people everywhere watching you. A mother with a baby carriage will be an undercover officer. You know the drill. We’ll even have one of our officers bring her daughters for you to ogle.”
“That’s all well and good, but the Widow doesn’t strike in broad daylight. Somehow she’s gotten into hotel rooms and apartments.”
“We’ve got that covered too. We’ve rented a crummy little apartment on Lydia. Actually, we’ve rented two apartments. We’ll have officers in the apartment next to yours. You’ll be covered 24/7.”
“You seem to have everything figured out. What made you think I’d even consider this crazy scheme?”
“You haven’t let us down yet.”
Swell!
“I can’t give you an answer right now. I wouldn’t even think of doing this without talking to Maggie.”
“I understand. Just don’t take too long. There’s no telling when the Black Widow will strike again.”
I dreaded talking to Maggie.
One of the reasons I retired from the force was to get away from these dangerous assignments. During the five years I was active, Maggie tolerated my undercover gigs, but there were so many narrow escapes that my tenant, Jerry, said if I was a cat, I would have used up my nine lives.
Maggie, still an active real estate agent, was working with out of town buyers. I knew she’d be coming home tired and hungry so I whipped up my signature dish, tuna casserole, and chilled a bottle of Arbor Mist.
When Maggie walked in the door, the table was set, candles lit, and the casserole had just come out of the oven.
“My goodness! How nice! What’s the occasion?”
“No occasion. Can’t a man prepare a scrumptious meal for his hard-working wife?”
“Well, I suppose so.”
Then she looked at me suspiciously. “Not so fast, buster! As I recall, you used to pull this trick when you were trying to soften me up for something. Spill it!”
Maggie doesn’t miss much.
“Why don’t you get into something comfortable, have a glass of wine, and we’ll talk over dinner? I’m anxious to hear about your day.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet you are,” she replied, stomping off to the bedroom.
“So, did you find a house for your clients?” I asked as we sat down to dinner.
“I did. Now what’s your story?”
I realized there was no point in trying to soften the blow. She was already on to me.
“I had a visitor today, Detective Blaylock.”
She put down her fork. “Walt! Please don’t tell me ---!”
“Just hear me out. He was here about the Black Widow killer. She struck again. That was murder number five. They need my help.”
“I don’t believe it! A whole police department and they have to ask a seventy-four-year-old to come out of retirement?”
“Well, I seem to have special qualifications.”
“What kind of qualifications?”
“To start with, they think I look like a pervert.”
I thought I saw the beginning of a smile but she quickly suppressed it.
“A pervert, huh? Yeah, I can see that. Go on.”
“The Widow has been targeting men who take advantage of women. They think I could lure her out in the open by pretending to be interested in little girls. They’ve got the whole thing set up in Gillham Park.”
“Lure her out? For heaven’s sake, Walt! You said yourself she’s already killed five times. What makes you think you won’t be number six?”
“The first five weren’t surrounded by cops. I’ll have eyes on me 24/7.”
“24/7? I guess that means you won’t be spending the night with me.”
“She wouldn’t try anything in the park. That’s not her style. She’s taken the others in their homes or hotel rooms. The cops have a small apartment for me and they also have the adjoining one. Like I said, I’ll be covered around the clock.”
I saw a tear glisten in her eye. “Walt, if anything happened to you I don’t know what I’d do.”
“Nothing’s going to happen. I promise.”
I just hoped I could keep that promise.
The next day, Blaylock issued a ‘stranger danger’ alert. An elderly white male had been seen in Gillham park trying to lure little girls with candy.
That set the stage for my appearance the next day.
Even though it was a fairly mild spring day, I was dressed in a long trench coat with a ball cap pulled low onto my face. I was also given a large pair of sunglasses. According to Blaylock, molesters wear them so people can’t see their eyes while they’re ogling.
I found a park bench near the kid’s playground and took a seat. There wasn’t much to do but just sit there. It was boring as hell.
Passersby gave me dirty looks, much like people do when they see a pile of fresh dog poop. A few mothers arrived with children in tow, but seeing me, quickly departed.
One mother with two young girls stayed and played. I figured that was the undercover cop with her daughters. While they were there, I did my best ogling impression.
The day passed without incident, but all the while I couldn’t help wondering if the Black Widow was out there watching, making plans for my demise.
At dusk, I returned to my car and headed to the grungy apartment on Lydia.
Like most millennials, Jan had all kinds of apps on her phone. There was a weather alert in case a tornado was imminent, a yellow alert when a child was missing, and a silver alert when a senior wandered off.
Her phone buzzed. She read the message. It was a ‘stranger danger’ alert. An elderly white male had been seen in Gillham Park trying to lure young girls.
Disgusting! she thought. There’s nothing more perverse that an adult taking children for sexual gratification.
This was definitely a job for the Black Widow.
That afternoon, she drove by the park, but there was no one there matching the description on the alert.
The next day she returned and spotted a man sitting on a park bench near the children’s playground. She watched the man through binoculars. He seemed to fit the description, but at that distance it was hard to tell.
A few mothers arrived, but seeing the man, quickly left, reinforcing the notion that this was the guy.
She knew she couldn’t take him in broad daylight, so she waited until he left at dusk, and followed him to a ramshackle apartment building on Lydia.
Perfect! she thought. She would take a closer look the next day, and if she was convinced this was indeed the defiler of little children, this would be the
place to take him out.
I had owned a lot of low-end rentals in my day, but nothing as bad as the one Derek had rented for our sting.
It was one large room with a dinky refrigerator, sink, and hot-plate in one corner. There was a separate bathroom. The tub had more rings than Saturn, and I couldn’t help but wonder how many tushies had been perched on the cracked, wooden toilet seat.
The mattress on the twin bed felt like it was stuffed with bowling balls, and a sharp spring protruded from the spot where I’d lay my head.
When I flipped on the light, roaches scurried into their little hidey-holes. If spiders are #1 on my most-hated list, roaches are #2.
They’re #1 on Maggie’s most hated list. We took a trip down south and checked into Boudreau’s Motor Inn. We soon learned that roaches in the deep south are more robust than our Midwest critters. When we turned on the light, Maggie spotted one big enough to carry off a small cat. We slept --- or rather tried to sleep with the light on all night.
On another occasion, Maggie spotted one in our kitchen. Her scream was so loud that it roused the other tenants in our building and I nearly wet myself.
When we all rushed into the kitchen, Maggie said, “Bug!” Bernice, who was not wearing her hearing aid, thought she said thug, and that set off another round of panic. It was an interesting evening.
One thing was for sure. I’d have to disinfect and debug myself before returning home. If I brought any of the filthy creatures into our apartment, the Black Widow would be the least of my worries.
Blaylock would definitely be hearing about this!
Knowing that the Black Widow struck her victims in their homes made for an uneasy evening. Every time I heard a board creak or a thump, I wondered if it was her.
There was an old black and white TV with rabbit ears. It only got three channels, but it was at least something to keep my mind off of impending doom.
Lady Justice and the Black Widow Page 6