John: The Senior Killer

by Robert Waggoner

  Sujin had since raised herself to a sitting position and said, “I like it and what about you Mike?”

  “It can’t hurt to try,” he said with a lot less confidence than before. “Hell, let’s do it,” he said with renewed enthusiasm. I need a beard, more wrinkles, eye glasses, and hair in my ears, a stoop when I walk, and a professional make-up artist to train me”

  Brad said, playing with Sandy rolling around in the hot sand with her, “When are you leaving?” So it was decided Mike would leave soonest and a professional make-up artist would meet him in Seattle. He would spend a week or less in training and then up to Anacortes.

  Brad made the necessary phone calls and had the plan set up by the next day. A house would be located even if they had to move someone out. When Billy heard the plan he was ecstatic. Wendy and agent Jones went about their business with the dry cleaners and laundry. By now they were getting a feel for the town as more and more customers came by to have their clothes cleaned by the nice people who ran the place. Agent Jones drove the van for delivery and soon had a lay of the land. Nancy came and met with the mayor and the mayor provided her with a list of old people in town who frequented the different organizations that catered to old folks. A list of homebound seniors was visited by the FBI and told under no circumstances let anyone in their house they didn’t know. To prevent a repeat of Aberdeen, two agents instead of one would always be together so if an individual posing as an agent would be a dead give away. Nobody thought he would pull the same MO again, but no chances were taken this time around.

  Brad thought it only time before another letter came from the brazen John. And sure enough as April neared a letter was delivered to both the Seattle Times and an identical one to the FBI office. Like before a smiley appeared on the top left hand side and a shocker occurred when they saw it was postmarked Anacortes. The contents are as follows:

  Dearest Brad and the witless Batt team,

  How did I do in Aberdeen? Not bad huh? Catch me if you can.

  The half circle is closing. I didn’t much like the sex part. So don’t put that in the equation.

  Brad, I think we shall meet again soon as April showers bring May flowers.

  GOD I LOVE MY JOB!

  Sincerely, and I mean it,

  Senior Killer: John.

  PS: oh by the way I hear you and your lovely Korean wife are expecting.

  When Brad received a copy he was livid. How the hell did he find out Sujin was pregnant? This man knows too much and it is time to increase security around the house. No telling what this madman might try and do. And the gall to mail the letters from Anacortes really upset Brad and the entire team. Brad called Steve and Steve told him he was flying out for a meeting with him. To Brad he sounded all in and was probably taking too much heat back in Washington. In addition, Brad’s father had called three times in one day. He knew he must return the call, but right now he didn’t feel up to the conversation and questions he knew were forthcoming.

  That night he and Sujin discussed the future with her being pregnant. Brad wanted her to stay home and she wanted no part of staying out of the game. She eventually won him over with her womanly charm, not to mention any special attention. The next day about noon Steve showed up looking like he had been drug through the proverbial knot hole.

  Steve couldn’t sit on the floor because he told them he might not be able to get back up. Sujin fixed him a ham and cheese sandwich and a cup of soup he could drink out of a coffee mug while he sat on the driftwood sofa. Very little conversation took place and after Steve finished his lunch he fell asleep for two hours waking up with a blanket over him stretched out on the sofa. He had no recollection after the lunch and seemed a little embarrassed. But then he realized he was among friends and it was just their way of saying he needed to rest.

  Brad did most of the talking and Steve listened carefully to the details. He never mentioned Washington DC. There was no need to. All guessed what flak he took from his boss and up the ladder to where the buck stops here place. While they were talking Nancy called and had some bad news. It seemed that Anacortes had a May flower festival beginning the week of May twenty second and running for five days. It seemed Skagit County was a Tulip growing area and thousands of tourists, mostly from the Seattle area converged on the area to see the fields of color in April. Anacortes being a tourist town where people caught the ferry to the San Juan Islands had a special attraction with the Waterfront Festival along with a local flower festival. Brad hung up and repeated the conversation with Steve.

  “What the hell else can go wrong,” he said with a voice that sounded like he just rode a camel across a dry desert. He shook his head and continued, “This guy is so far ahead of us it isn’t funny. We are like a dog chasing its tail. Somehow we must out think this guy. I fear we are about to lose another senior. I know you and your team will give it your all in Anacortes, but a more isolated area like Arden maybe is where we can catch him”

  Brad said encouragingly, but with less conviction than he truly believed, “We have a good plan and even if a lot of tourists come, his MO is always in the victim’s house. That fact gives us an even chance to catch the guy. If he does strike and we get a line on him, I fear he will be lost in the throngs of tourists. I believe he is there now and I’m going to put on a disguise of my own and hang around town for awhile. Sujin will stay here until the date of the festival and then meet me in Anacortes.

  “Brad we have covered a lot of ground together, but this case is our most difficult to date. As we all know, some serial killers are never caught or if caught it is by a fluke like the Unabomber.”

  A very sobering statement and not without the agreement, however as they say, tomorrow is another day, Brad thought. “Well, Steve, we have been under the gun before and we will put this guy to rest one way or another. If I get the chance, I’ll put this guy down and out. I’m not interested in some shrink digging at his infected rotten brain. I’m paid to stop this guy and my team will do what we’re here for.”

  Having said that, Brad went down to the computer room to download Goggle Earth and look at Anacortes. His earlier look had been from Billy and said a perfect little house resided at the end of 32nd St. It was a straight shot to downtown to highway 20 which ran around the outside perimeter of Anacortes and then proceeded west bound to the airport and Ferries to some other islands of the San Juan area, including a ferry that went to Sidney/Vancouver, BC. After looking at the map Brad decided to make sure a helicopter was sitting at the airport ready to go along with his NASA jet. Just in case this guy made a run for it aboard a ferry he wanted to be able to cover all bases. Especially if the roads were gridlocked from tourists. Next he wanted some bike riders who were expert street riders. He thought maybe three at the airport and three at the harbor; and one for himself. He’d cut his teeth riding dirt bikes and street bikes.

  They left with no dog this time. No doubt John remembered Rocky at his pig farm and when they left the next morning, Rocky had fit his master was leaving without him. Both he and Sandy sat there watching the car leave like a mother dropping off her kids at the day care center.

  About four hours later they landed at the Anacortes airport. Nancy had flown up in the helicopter and they went downtown for lunch with the rest of the team. Billy was jumping up and down like a little kid; except for the cigarette hanging out of his mouth he could have been seen as a retard he was so happy!

  Later at a restaurant near the airport Brad laid out his plan and told Nancy what he would like from the FBI. Specifically a helicopter, six expert motorcycle law enforcement agents and not necessarily from the FBI, five agents at least at the ferry terminal and when a ferry left two agents riding the ferry on festival days; and the sheriff’s department with the state police blocking off all outlets out of the town. No one leaves without proving who they are with ID to match. All side roads set up with road blocks after eight am. He went on to tell them he wanted the town locked down top to bottom side to side and a co
mmunication system linking everyone to the day’s activities.

  All were either taking notes or listening with their full attention. This was their chance to nab the guy and if he got away this time after murdering someone, there would be hell to pay somewhere up and down the line. Steve felt more comfortable hearing the plan. He left to go outside a make a call to Washington DC.

  After lunch all dispersed to their respective jobs and Brad went to a motel to check out his simple disguise. Billy stayed at the same motel and he and Brad talked the rest of the afternoon about how John might ply his trade on a senior. “Giving away free flowers is one way,” Billy said. “Hell, let’s be real here. We have no idea what he will do and our best bet is Mike. However, the professional John is with makeup and disguise, will he see through Mike?”

  “I’m afraid so Billy. One thing that bothers me is if he feels the heat is too much, will he give up and hit somewhere else while we sit here with the town surrounded. And what if he hits Arden first?”

  “No, I think he will try and show us he is smarter than we are,” said Billy. “It wouldn’t surprise me if he comes up to you around town and starts a conversation to prove he can fool you,” he added quickly.

  “I think we must be on full alert and ready to move at the slightest hint of his movements. A lot is riding on this manhunt and somehow we got to stop him before a lot of copy cats jump on the band wagon. The press is calling for our heads and if this one slips by us, we can probably kiss our jobs goodbye,” he said with the truth written all over it. Brad never believed for a minute this guy held the upper hand.

  * * *

  A week before the festival John sat comfortably in his room in Wenatchee. He was in solid with the locals. Tomorrow he would go to Seattle and pick up his new ID from a safety deposit box. Years before he had a guy in LA make him ten ID’s all with the how to for picture application. After picking up his new ID he bought a used Harley Super Glide and went to the state office for registration and paid the fee happily. Tucked inside his new leathers a bona fide address on the registration and driver’s license showed him as one Terry Adams of Everett Washington.

  The weather was cooperating for late May and he felt that it would continue until his mission was completed. He’d called and made a reservation some time ago to the San Juan Motel on 6th St. All was in place as he motored up I-5 feeling as giddy as a kid skipping school. His disguise was an older guy about late fifties with medium gray black hair a mustache of salt and pepper with dark brown eyes and heavy black rimmed glasses. Striking white teeth behind a big smile made him look friendly and kind. He’s read up on bikes and flowers; in addition to the area.

  He was riding now in the far right hand lane at truck speed, with a license endorsed for motorcycle riding, he turned grim thinking he had to do his best to outsmart the famous Brad Pratt and his team. If he pulled this off under their noses again like last time in Aberdeen, he would sit back and savor the kill and write a few more letters.

  Brad was walking along the waterfront next to the marina going over every detail of his plan. Agent Jones was with him and when they found a place to sit and watch the boats, agent Jones said, “I think we need to check all the motels for reservations and knock on each door to check ID’s. What do you think Brad?”

  “I was thinking that myself and would you call Nancy and have her take care of that project? Also, make sure the owners and desk people check their driver’s license or passport with each guest and how long they intend to stay.”

  That night on the eve of the 22nd the team met for dinner in Sedro Woolley. Brad didn’t want to take a chance on being seen. Now they were in a small conference room with an agent outside to make sure no one was eavesdropping going over every detail of the next day’s action. Nancy spent a full thirty minute about how she had dispersed her agents. She told them that the ferries were manned; motels, RV parks and campgrounds along with bed and breakfast places had been contacted. The harbor was patrolled by the Coast Guard; the helicopter was fueled and waiting; the roads would be blocked at all points out of town and side roads by eight am; the bike riders would be in place by daylight tomorrow morning. In addition agents by the dozen were walking around and to a person all had a communication device to link up with Billy’s new found pride and joy the eighteen wheeler van full of toys for his pleasure. After she gave her report Brad asked Mike what or if he had anything to report by his end with the house and meeting anyone during his time playing a senior role. He’d didn't talk to him since he left Bandon and Mike reported meeting many new friends, but nobody asked to come to his house.

  He said, “Guess we lost this one and now I’m at a loss as what to do”

  “Keep it up until the last minute or until something kicks loose,” Brad said. “Now can anybody think of anything at all we might have overlooked or any suggestions to add to our plan?”

  “My gut feeling is he will strike tomorrow night after he tours the festival and lures someone to their home or to his place of lodging,” Wendy added to the last of the meeting as everyone started to get up and leave.

  “Ok, Wendy, you think he is staying in a motel or RV park?”

  “Yes, I do. I think he will entice a senior to his place and god knows where he will go after that.”

  Brad thought for a few minutes and said, “Nancy double check the hotel guests and check again their ID’s. Don’t intimidate the guests, but if the agent doesn’t feel right about anyone, have he or she reports immediately to a superior.” Nancy made a note and nodded to Brad.

  “Anything else people?” He asked. He waited and said the meeting was over and told them, “Let’s go to our respective places and hope tomorrow we have John in custody.”

  Chapter 13

  A knock on John’s door at nine pm on the eve of the 22nd of May at the San Juan Motel produced a young FBI agent apologizing for the intrusion, but she needed a word with him please. John with a big smile invited her in and asked what she wanted. She told him the FBI was checking Id’s as they felt the serial killer might be in the area. John said, “Glad to help. Someone needs to stop the crazy bastard, excuse my language…” as he dug out his driver’s license and new registration for his bike. Agent Jenny Agate later described him as totally believable and his license and registration was both in good order.

  Brad tossed and turned and wished he had one of his dogs with him. He’d called home and all were fine there and Sujin told him she wanted to come to Anacortes to be with him. He’d said he was in no condition for company and to please forgive him. He promised to call as soon as something happened and hung up.

  The same could be said about the rest of the team. Sleep was not in the cards and everyone was strung as tight as a tennis racket. Billy was still pounding the keys working with his friends around the country. He’s agreed with Wendy that the dude was probably holed up in a motel and would seek out a victim, lure that person to his motel room and off the old person. Then he would silently leave town. But how would he leave town? That is what Billy was working on with his friends. They mailed back and forth and all agreed with the roads blocked he would escape, if not caught, by ferry. Billy then checked the Washington State Ferry schedule for departures after say five pm. He discovered a ferry on an overnight ride to Sidney/Victoria BC.

  He called agent Jones who picked up the phone on the first ring. Billy told him about his theory and Jones said, “Let’s you and I be there at the ferry terminal an hour before it is scheduled to leave. I’ll get a passenger list tomorrow and you get a list of the motel, RV and campground sites. Oh, and don’t forget the bed and breakfast places. I’ll inform Wendy and you tell Brad what we are doing and see if he agrees to our plan.”

  After hanging up, Billy looked at his screen and saw the time was one am. He knew Brad was probably not sleeping and rang his room. Like agent Jones he picked up on the first ring and listened to what Billy had to say. He thought it a good idea and told him to stay in touch when in position. Also he woul
d tell Nancy what the plan was to alert the other agents already in position. He hung up without another word and Billy could feel the stress flowing through the line. Billy lighted his forty something cigarette of the day and sat back blowing smoke rings in deep thought about what this dude’s disguise was for tomorrow’s gig.

  Terry Adams woke as the daylight fought its way through the motel drapes. He stretched his arms and thought to himself what a good night sleep he had. He bounced out of bed and made for the shower. After a hot shower he dressed in his blue jeans, slip on penny loafers and a checkered long sleeve shirt with two pockets. He made sure his makeup and all that made him Terry Adams was in order before he left for breakfast. He motored downtown and parked the bike outside the local Denny’s restaurant. He parked the Harley next to the door as that is what would attract his victim, he hoped. He would hang around all day until his mark came by to talk bikes and then he would tell him that he had some pictures back in his room showing some old bikes that he restored. Of course the word was out about the serial killer and he would show the guy his license and all about where he lived not far from the 747 Boeing plant in Everett. If that didn’t work he would pull his little 22 hand gun and walk the guy behind the restaurant and do him there. As it turned out the unsuspecting old time Harley rider played his game.