by Joe Conlan
Fleeting thoughts and jumbled words raced through Henry’s mind, but he was unable to come up with a coherent sentence. When he eventually tried to speak, the gag and his trembling voice made his statement incomprehensible. Consumed by a feeling of hopelessness and terror, he felt a crushing pressure and burning sensation in the center of his chest that travelled up into his jaw and down his left shoulder and arm. An instant later, his eyes glazed over as he clutched at his chest. At that moment, an infuriated Shem sprung into action. If the old man dropped dead of a heart attack, it would rob him of the pleasure and tranquility he was so passionately seeking. He grabbed Henry by the hair and pulled him up into a seated position. With one violent thrust, he shoved the knife into his throat then slashed through it dissecting both major blood vessels of the neck. Instead of receiving a constant flow of blood against his abdomen, it spewed in fits and spurts. After less the ten seconds, the surge stopped completely. The blood dripped slowly from the wound leading Shem to come to only one possible conclusion. The old man’s heart was no longer beating.
Being deprived of the ecstasy of the orgasm derived from his victim’s terror-stricken eyes and the texture of the warm blood against his naked skin was infuriating. It was his intention to dissect the body into small pieces when the deed was done, place them in small plastic bags and bury them in shallow holes around the preserve. Normally, he would have performed the task meticulously with precision, as he did with the drag queen he murdered in Miami. This time, he reached into his bag, grabbed the large machete he had packed for the job and started to maniacally hack at the body with no rhyme or reason. He fiercely chopped, slashed and sliced until his shoulder, back and arm muscles ached to the point it was physically impossible to continue. When he finally took the time to look down at the body to see the results, the flesh was butchered beyond recognition. The head was detached, but not before it was chopped into numerous pieces. Other body parts were strewn along the forest floor, some landing more than ten yards from what was left of the rest of the corpse. Standing above the completely annihilated body of the degenerate, Shem realized he was sexually aroused. He unzipped his pants, pulled out his hard penis, and masturbated to orgasm. As his frame of mind slowly returned to a relative state of calm, he started the long and tedious cleanup process.
Chapter 14
Special Agent in Charge Daniel Falcone immediately began to assemble a task force after receiving confirmation from Special Agent Frazier that the murder in Europe was perpetrated by the same suspect in the Hannah Richards case. He wanted his best and most experienced investigator to lead the team, so he appointed Robert Leland with James Mancini as his co-investigator in New York. Agent Christopher Frye would work side by side with Leland in the North Miami office. To ensure consistency, the ERT squad that inspected the Richards crime scene was made part of the task force. Members of other law enforcement agencies would be included in the future, if new murders were discovered in their jurisdiction. Daniel appointed himself as liaison with the media and would be available in an advisory capacity. He had every intention of paying very close attention to this case. He would also take on the responsibility of finding the leak. The guilty party’s career with the FBI would be coming to an abrupt end if Daniel had anything to say about it.
With the help of the Italian authorities, three other unsolved murders in Europe were identified that could potentially be linked to the Leone case. The killings occurred in Aix-en-Provence, France, Innsbruck, Austria and Karpenisi, Greece. Once again, Frazier and the ERT packed their bags and headed across the Atlantic to review each of the files and inspect the crime scenes in the three European cities. James Mancini held down the fort in the U.S. in the event any local responsibilities arose.
It took nearly a month to meet with the local European authorities, review all reports, inspect crime scenes and interview any potential witnesses. In the final week, a fourth murder was discovered in Karabuk, Turkey. This extended their stay for another two weeks. The Turkish authorities were unwilling to cooperate initially. Daniel was forced to call in a few favors with his contacts in Washington to eventually convince the Turkish government to allow his team to review the file and visit the crime scene.
In the end, it was determined that the same murderer committed each of the crimes. Four of the victims were female prostitutes. The cause of death for each of the women was blood loss due to dissection of the carotid artery and jugular vein. They were then decapitated post-mortem. Analysis of the chips in the bone of the cervical spine revealed the detachment of the head was executed with the use of a hammer and chisel in each instance. In Aix-en-Provence, a teenage mother and her baby were the victims. The killer performed a crude mastectomy of both breasts. He placed the nipple of one of them in the mouth of the baby’s severed head. Indisputable confirmation came when DNA testing was done on hair samples found at the Turkish crime scene which matched those found at the Richards and Leone sites.
Although Daniel was pleased the investigation was finally progressing, he was frustrated there were no leads regarding the suspect’s current location or true identity. A tail was placed on Deborah and the boys, Annie and Michael Munez without any results. As far as anyone knew, the suspect was no longer in the Ft. Lauderdale area. Reports of missing persons in the South Florida area and around the country were consistently coming across his and Leland’s desk. It didn’t make sense to Daniel that, so far, there were no other victims found in the United States who could be connected to the killer. He feared it was only a matter of time.
The suspect had already broken some of the rules of the behavioral characteristics studies of previous serial killers. Experts warned that each serial killer was unique, however, they normally hunted and murdered in a comfort zone from which they didn’t usually stray. There have been serial murderers who traveled great distances to kill, but the examples were few and far between. Another rule that didn’t seem to apply to this suspect was that many serial killers follow a specific time pattern between killings. More often than not, patterns such as killing in a lunar cycle were exposed. Daniel knew it was a misconception to believe they couldn’t stop killing. Frequently, they killed based on availability and opportunity. He had to resign himself to the fact that this guy wasn’t going to make things easy on them. This maniac was operating with his own set of rules.
Officer Tanya Concord was one of fifty officers assigned to bicycle patrol for the Miami Dade Metro Police Department. It wasn’t exactly her idea of the police work she had signed up for when she decided to go to the Miami Police Academy. Detecting was her dream. Finding clues, analyzing their significance and solving major crimes was her calling. One day, she hoped to be a homicide detective. Until then, she would have to pay her dues. Riding on a bicycle eight hours a day around the residential streets of Miami had been her payment for the last year and a half. This morning she was checking out a complaint that had been lodged practically on a daily basis for the past two weeks by an inordinate number of patrons of Matheson Hammock Park. A rancid stench was reported to be coming from the forest of mangroves bordering the nature trail on the south side of the park.
Matheson Hammock Park wasn’t ordinarily within her jurisdiction. The Captain of the bike squad must have had it in for her. She had evidently rejected his requests for a dinner date one too many times. Now, she was on stink patrol. Mostly out of spite, she barely pumped at the pedals of her black and red Schwinn ten- speed set at its lowest gear. She was in no hurry to get to the offending site, moseying at a leisurely pace into the park at its main entrance off of Old Cutler Road. It was 7:30am and already the trails were crowded with joggers getting in their morning exercise. Once she hit the path leading to the south side of the park, she increased her speed to avoid the risk of being run down by the serious joggers trying to work up a decent lather. As she got closer to her destination, the joggers were accelerating their pace, perhaps doubling it. Matching their speed to keep up, it only took minutes to discover the rea
son for their sense of urgency. The stink hit her like an invisible physical force field. She instinctively applied the handbrakes squeezing them with a vice-grip that almost sent her flying headfirst over the handle bars. Once she recaptured her balance, her first move was to pinch her nose as tight as possible. Then, she quite audibly cursed the captain as two joggers happened to be passing at sprinting speed. Tanya had never smelled anything as repulsive and offensive as the odor assaulting her nostrils at that moment. The several skunks she had come across during her childhood in North Florida smelled like a luxurious perfume compared to this. She was wishing she had brought a gas mask with her and was seriously considering heading back to the station to grab one.
Taking a moment to contemplate what could cause such a foul stench, she quickly changed her mind. Officer Concord had never smelled the odor of decaying flesh, but had read and heard it described hundreds of times. Though it could easily be a dead animal, she had the distinct feeling it was something more. Off to the side of the path, on a soft patch of weeds and dead mangrove leaves, she set the kickstand on her bike and secured the padlock around the wheel spokes. Without any clear search plan, she headed into the mangroves in a southwesterly direction covering her nose with a thick cloth she had taken from the first aid kit attached to her bicycle seat. Approximately twenty five yards into the thicket, she noticed a depression in an area of exposed dirt a few feet further ahead. As she got closer, it appeared to be a hole dug by an animal. Along the sides, she could see evenly-spaced thin lines as if made by claws. When she was near enough to look into the hole, two empty eye sockets of a half-eaten human skull stared back at her.
Less than ninety minutes later, the FBI’s Evidence Response team assigned to the Hannah Richards serial murder case was scouring the grounds of Matheson Hammock Park at the site where Officer Concord made her macabre discovery. Most of the heavy work had already been done. They were meticulously searching for any trace evidence left behind by the killer. The head wasn’t the only body part located by Officer Concord. In an area covering approximately twenty square yards, she found a partially dug up, half-eaten thigh, left arm and upper shoulder, right ankle and foot. After examining the head to be sure it was in fact human, she immediately called it in to dispatch who in turn notified Captain Kyle Fromberg of the homicide division. During his years as Assistant Special Agent in Charge, Daniel had developed a good working relationship with the captain collaborating on several anti-gang and drug task forces. When Daniel recognized they may have a serial murderer running loose in South Florida, Captain Fromberg was one of the first law enforcement officers outside the FBI he contacted. Other than the obvious reason for notifying the captain, Daniel was enlisting his help. He requested that the captain report any murders occurring in the Miami Dade Metro Police Department’s jurisdiction to Special Agent Robert Leland, especially those involving decapitation and/or detached body parts. Captain Fromberg didn’t hesitate to call Leland as soon as he received Concord’s briefing from dispatch.
So far, Leland, Frye and the ERT had conducted a search for the remaining body parts with the help of three German Shepherds specially-trained for the task. Some serious digging was necessary. The torso was found buried at least four feet below the surface of the mangrove floor. In the end, most body parts were found however decayed or semi-eaten. The victim’s penis was never located. Later, the medical examiner would find traces of it inside the severed head’s mouth. It was assumed the remainder was consumed by a family of foxes. The claw marks found at the sites where body parts were dug up and eaten by animals were determined to be those of four separate Florida red foxes. It was assumed to be a mother and her three kits known by several of the park’s rangers. Female clothes and a wig were interred with the torso though the M.E. on the scene came to the conclusion the victim was a man based on his bone structure. Two separate types of human hair were attached to the tube dress recovered and bagged for later DNA analysis. Leland examined the cut pattern of the spine at the level of the decapitation. Confirmation with the experts would be necessary though he was fairly convinced it was done with a hammer and chisel similar to the murders in Europe.
While the ERT was busy wrapping things up, Leland reached in his pocket for his cell phone. Daniel would be anxiously waiting for his report, even had the nerve to order him to call as soon as his inspection of the scene was complete. It was rarely a pleasant experience for Leland to deal with Falcone in his capacity as a boss. The kid was fifteen years his junior. Leland consciously adjusted his demeanor so that his frustration wouldn’t be obvious then dialed Daniel’s extension at the office. After discussing the items of evidence found at the scene, Leland offered his opinion.
“It looks like the victim might-a-been some kinda fuck’n freak. If the clothes found at the site were his, he was at least a transvestite. Poor fucker got his cock chopped off. Because of the advanced level of decay, the M.E. couldn’t say whether or not it happened before or after death.”
“You guys have any idea who the victim may be?”
“No, I got Frye checkin’ on missing persons. I wouldn’t be surprised if he...she...he-she, whatever the fuck it is, was a hustler. It’s got that kinda feel. The dress was a flashy red, tight number. Bunch-a-rings on the fingers and other gaudy jewelry found here and there with the other body parts.”
“Any useful fingerprints?”
“Nah...anything exposed to the elements woulda been washed clean by now. The buried stuff was useless...anything on ‘em was long gone.”
“What do you think? Any chance it’s our guy?”
“I’d say there’s a great chance. Definitely his M.O.... especially if it was a prostitute though this is his first he-she. I guess it’s possible he might not have known what he was dealing with. Thing that got me was the decapitation. It looks like the same pattern as the others. I had the M.E. look at it. He can’t be positive until he compares the cuts, but he agreed it could’ve been a hammer and chisel. Hold on. Frye’s running up here with something.”
Special Agent Frye handed Leland three pieces of a scuffed up and torn business card covered with dirt and other unidentifiable stains. He gave Leland a quick explanation that it was found by one of the ERT members amongst a pile of mangrove leaves a good thirty yards from the general area where most of the evidence was dug up. Despite its poor condition, the pieces, when put together made the victim’s profession and perhaps identification quite clear. Leland dismissed Frye with a nod of his head then addressed Daniel.
“It looks like we might have a great lead to identify the victim. One of the evidence guys found a business card. It’s got to be the he-she’s. It’s torn, lots-a-crud, but easy enough to read...Glamorosa Champagne, professional escort...Enjoy a taste of my bubbly.”
With Glamorosa’s address on the card, identification was just a matter of looking him up on the FBI’s computer database. Christopher Frye was assigned to conduct the investigation of the victim’s history and flamboyant personal life. Glamorosa’s real name was Charles Ingram. Though he still had all his male parts, Ingram lived his everyday life as a woman. According to friends, he had every intention of changing his sex as soon as he was able to save the money for the operation. To earn the cash for his ultimate goal, Glamorosa did some freelance entertainment work at several of the gay night clubs on South Beach dancing and performing lip sync versions of pop and disco music. Her main source of income was prostitution. Both Frye’s and Daniel’s assumption was that it was the latter profession which lead to her demise.
Preliminary DNA results had come back indicating the testers could not exclude the killer’s DNA profile as a potential match to some of the hairs found at the scene. It would take at least a month before the findings were conclusive. Daniel was fairly certain they were dealing with Hannah Richards’ murderer. The autopsy results confirmed that a hammer and chisel were used to decapitate the victim. The cut patterns were compared to the photos of those in the European cases and were determi
ned to be identical. Special Agent Frazier’s opinion after his visit to the crime scene and analysis of the evidence provided further confirmation that the transvestite’s murder could be added to the growing list attributable to the serial killer.
Daniel was hopeful the additional information collected would help develop a clearer picture of the subject. The obvious goal was to catch him. The disappointing truth was they were no closer to identifying him and he didn’t seem to have any intentions of changing his occupation. As they discovered more murders, the pressure to resolve the case would increase exponentially. Clifton Harris of the Herald was already criticizing the FBI’s lack of progress and specifically attacking Daniel as Special Agent in Charge. That was no surprise. It seemed to be Harris’ favorite pastime. Daniel didn’t expect it would be long before the killer provided more fodder to fuel the reporter’s personal vendetta. He was right. Just seventeen days after Officer Concord’s discovery, Leland received another call from Captain Fromberg.
Henry Greenburg could have gone missing for months if it hadn’t been for his tenants who rented his guesthouse on his property in South Beach. His only living relatives were a brother and sister he barely spoke to or saw and their children and grandchildren some whom he had never met. His last contact with any family member was a call from his sister’s son asking for a handout more than six months before the night of his disappearance. The boys living in the guesthouse got concerned two weeks after they returned from their vacation in the Caribbean. It wasn’t unusual for Henry to travel and be gone for weeks without notifying them. What they found to be extremely bizarre was his failure to call them on the rent due date with instructions about what to do with the check in his absence. Henry was extremely diligent about money issues.