Sauk Valley Killer: A Must Read Serial Killer Thriller (Kat Beckman Book 6)

by KJ Kalis

  Just as he was about to pull off to the side of the road, the police cruiser flew past, clearly on its way to another call. Joseph let out a strangled breath. He tried to relax. “All is well,” he said out loud. “All is well.”

  As he pulled off onto the exit ramp, Joseph smiled at his cleverness. The van would be difficult to find on its own. It looked like many of the vans that were used throughout the city. He had made one small adjustment, though, that made it even more difficult to see. After quite a bit of research, he had found a film that could be put over surfaces that when captured by a video camera would obscure it. He bought several rolls off of the Internet and tested them out, covering the windshield as well as the license plates in the front and back.

  It made him invisible.

  Traffic cams, property video surveillance, even cell phones — unless you were looking at him or his license plates with the naked eye, you couldn’t see him. His level of genius surprised him sometimes. He had a moment of joy, thinking about the way he had protected himself, which was followed by the rise of bile in his throat. None of this would be necessary if the medical journals and the medical schools had taken him seriously. He was a serious scientist, he thought, gripping the wheel more tightly. His anger began to rise. All of those schools and journals that had rejected him, all the piles of letters he had stashed in his parents’ home, they were all going to see what they had missed out on. He would make all of them see him. He would make his mom and dad proud, no matter what it took.

  25

  Kat and Van had spent the day with Detective Dawson before returning home in the late afternoon. It had gone more pleasantly than she thought, Kat realized, reaching into the refrigerator to get ingredients out to start dinner. She had just returned home a few minutes before. TJ had left to go pick up Jack at school. She knew they would return shortly. Jack was always starved after school, and she thought TJ and Van might be hungry, too. She knew she was. She and Van had been so busy with Dawson that by the time they realized they hadn’t had lunch, there was no point in eating it.

  Out of the freezer, Kat pulled a bag of hamburgers. It would be nice to sit outside with Van, Jack, and TJ. They could let the dogs play while they grilled. Her stomach sank, knowing that while they were getting ready to have a nice family dinner, there were other families in their community, not far from them, that were busy planning funerals. A part of her wanted to sit down and look at the videotape from the apartment building again, but she knew it was pointless. Even the forensic video technicians at the department had no idea how to capture a face or the license plate numbers from the van. Why they weren’t visible, Kat wasn’t sure. It didn’t make any sense. The video camera had been pointed right at the front of the van as it drove in and out. The surveillance should have worked, but it didn’t.

  Kat washed her hands, grabbing a white towel to dry them on when her phone rang. It was a number she didn’t recognize. She almost ignored it and then decided to pick it up. Maybe it was Dawson. “Hello?” she said, leaning the phone against her ear.

  “Hello?” The voice on the other end of the line sounded confused, “Is this the right number for Kat Beckman?”

  “It is. Who’s this?” Kat furrowed her brow. She didn’t recognize the voice on the other end of the line. It wasn’t Dawson.

  “Hello, my name is Dr. Erwin Rose. I’m the publishing editor for the California Medical Innovations Journal.”

  Kat racked her brain. She’d never heard of that publication before. “Hello, Dr. Rose. How can I help you?”

  “Well, I have some information that I think you might find interesting. You are the Kat Beckman that’s a journalist, correct?”

  “That’s correct.”

  “I found your phone number on the website for your newspaper. Your office transferred my call to your cell phone. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

  Kat frowned, “Dr. Rose, I’m more than happy to talk to you, but what kind of information do you have?” She wanted him to get to the point.

  “I’m not sure if your paper is following it, but there seem to be some murders that are going on in the Sauk Valley. Have you heard about those?”

  “Yes. We are following them.”

  “Well, I think I might have an idea of who is behind them.”

  Kat stopped in her tracks. “What do you mean?”

  “There is a doctor that keeps sending our publication information on his ideas for medical experiments. Some of the information we received overlaps with the details from the murders.” Before she could respond, Dr. Rose continued, “I was wondering if I could meet you for a cup of coffee and give you the information we have?”

  For a moment, Kat wondered why Dr. Rose hadn’t called the local police department, but at this point, it didn’t matter how leads came in, just that they did. “Sure. Where would you like to meet?”

  Dr. Rose read off an address. It was only about fifteen minutes away. “Half hour?”

  Kat glanced at the kitchen at the dinner preparation she had started. It would have to wait. “That’s fine.” She paused, “I’ll be bringing my editor with me. It’s probably better if we both hear your information.” She paused for a moment, worried that bringing Van along would cancel the appointment, but she didn’t feel comfortable enough meeting a total stranger without Van there. There was just too much danger in the community.

  “That’s fine. I’ll see you then.”

  Kat started to say, “I’m blonde, by the way…”

  Dr. Rose paused. “I know what you look like. I saw your bio on the website. See you in thirty minutes.”

  Kat wasn’t sure how to interpret the fact that Dr. Rose already knew what she looked like. It was a little creepy. Or, he was just prepared, she didn’t know which. “Van! Van!”

  “What?” Van ran into the kitchen.

  “Listen, we’ve got to go. I’ll explain on the way. We’ve got a lead on the killer.”

  Van and Kat jumped in the truck and pulled out of the driveway, She sent a quick text to TJ to let him know that dinner was started and they would be back later, but he should feel free to throw things on the grill if they were hungry. She apologized, too, “I’m sorry. Wanted to make dinner for you, but duty calls.”

  He sent back a quick text. “Will do. Gotta go. Target acquired.”

  Kat smiled. She knew TJ was talking about Jack. Former military members had a funny way of describing things sometimes. She found it charming.

  Van glanced her direction, “Where are we racing off to?”

  Kat brought him up to date on Dr. Rose, the strange phone call, and the information he said he had, “I’m glad you’re with me. I have no idea if this guy is the real deal or not.”

  The muscles in Van’s jaw rippled, “What’s your feeling about him?”

  Kat knew where Van was going. Was this Dr. Rose the killer? Or was he just a source? The next few minutes would tell. Kat took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. She couldn’t afford a PTSD flareup. She was safe, she told herself. She was with Van. “Not sure. I’m thinking he has information. Hold on for a sec.” Kat picked up her phone and quickly typed in the name of the medical journal that Dr. Rose said he worked for. They had a website. That was good news. She clicked on the link for the review board and scrolled down. At the bottom of the page, the second to last picture was Dr. Erwin Rose. “Well, the good news is there is a website, and he’s listed on it. So, unless he did a great deal of backstopping before he called me, he looks to be legitimate.”

  Van nodded. “That’s good news. I guess we’ll know when we get there.”

  As Van pulled in the parking lot for the coffee shop, perched on the corner of two busy streets, next to a dry cleaner and opposite from a bookstore, Kat glanced around. She wasn’t the only one. Van’s head was on a swivel. Even though they had found Dr. Rose’s information on a website, there was no telling what to expect.

  Kat got out of the truck and waited by the tailgate. When Van didn’t co
me around, she walked to his side of the truck. He had the lockbox under the seat of his vehicle open and was slipping a semi-automatic pistol into a holster on his waistband. She saw him give it a quick check, making sure that a round was in the chamber before securing it on his side and pulling his t-shirt over the top of it. “Just want to be prepared,” Van said.

  Kat and Van had been in enough scrapes together that she knew he was right. She was glad he had his pistol with him. Van was a former Marine, so having firearms around the house was part of the deal. It didn’t bother her. Kat had her own pistol and had learned to like going to the gun range, taking lessons, and training. Feeling more in control had helped her with her PTSD, that was for sure.

  Van slammed the door to the truck and touched the key fob, the truck making a sharp beeping noise as it locked and armed the alarm system. They walked together to the front door of the coffee shop. Kat glanced around. It wasn’t that much different from the coffee shop they had met Stephanie at just that morning. The big green coffee bar was on the left-hand side this time, instead of the right, a couple of bored teenagers leaning against the back counter, their arms crossed over their chests. There were tables dotted throughout the space. In the back corner, there sat a small man, with a gray wispy mustache. He looked up and gave Kat a wave. “I think that’s him,” she said, leaning towards Van. “Looks like the guy on the website.”

  “He doesn’t look like much of a threat,” Van said. Kat couldn’t tell if it was a joke or not.

  Kat walked straight back to the table, as Dr. Rose stood up. “Ms. Beckman?” he said, offering a wrinkled, pale hand. Despite its look, it was warm and soft, “Thank you for coming.”

  As Kat sat down, she pointed to Van, “Dr. Rose, this is my husband Van Peck. He’s also my editor.” The men shook hands.

  Kat took a second to get a better look at Dr. Rose. He had on square glasses with gold frames that rested just above his mustache. His gray hair seemed to slump to one side, and despite the temperature outside, he had on a long sleeve shirt, a tie, and a sweater vest. Kat guessed he wore the same outfit no matter the weather. “I’m going to go get some drinks,” Van said. “Dr. Rose, can I get you anything?”

  He shook his head no, “I’m happy with my tea. Thank you.”

  As Van walked away, Kat settled back in her seat. There was something sort of familiar about Dr. Rose, she realized. He reminded her of Eli Langster, an art expert that helped her on a case she worked in Savannah, Georgia. Dr. Rose seemed to be older though, and much grayer. “So, Dr. Rose. How did you find me?”

  Dr. Rose shifted in his seat, “Well, though I look like I’m a hundred years old, I try to keep up with technology. Your paper is one that I follow on a regular basis.” He blushed, “Strange, I know, for an old man like me, but knowing what’s going on in the world is important. At least I think so.”

  Kat nodded and slid over as Van came back with coffee for them. “It’s good to know that you’ve read the paper.”

  Van glanced at her and raised his eyebrows. “You read The Hot Sheet?” he asked.

  Dr. Rose nodded. “I was just telling your wife that I’m a fan.” A shadow seemed to pass over his face. “But that’s not why I asked you here today. I’m thinking that since you live in the area, you are following the serial killer case.”

  Van said, “We are. We’ve been in contact with the police department. We’ve been trying to give them a hand as best we can.”

  Dr. Rose lifted the mug of tea to his lips, his hands trembling slightly, “Carpal tunnel syndrome. The doctor keeps telling me I need surgery, but I’m not interested.”

  A quiet passed over them. Kat watched Dr. Rose as he set the mug back down on the table. He placed both of his hands, palm down, fingers spread, in front of him. “As I said on the phone, I think I might have an idea who could be committing these murders. Or, more specifically, conducting these medical experiments.”

  “I have to ask why you contacted us and not the police…” Kat said, chewing the inside of her lip.

  “That’s a reasonable question, I suppose,” Dr. Rose said, dabbing at his nose with his napkin. “I’m a fan, first of all. Second, I prefer to stay off the police radar. You know, lawsuits and such, with the work that we publish on medical experiments.”

  The words hung in the air. Kat’s mind raced forward. Medical experiments, she thought? What was Dr. Rose talking about? She sat quietly, waiting for Dr. Rose to continue. He seemed like the kind of man that would get to his destination when he got there. No amount of pushing or prodding would help him to move forward any faster.

  Dr. Rose pressed his lips together, the wrinkles in his thin skin deepening. “I brought these for you,” he said, pulling up a sheaf of envelopes from inside a worn, brown leather briefcase that was positioned next to his right hip. “These are all from the same man. A man that I believe is capable of doing exactly what you are seeing play out in the community right now.”

  Kat’s heart started to beat a little faster. “Who is this person?”

  Dr. Rose cleared his throat. “Honestly, I’ve never met him. But, over the years, he has sent us more than one hundred ideas for medical experiments, as he calls them.”

  Van scowled. “And you’ve never accepted them?”

  Kat started to wonder if the man Dr. Rose was describing would have used that as a motive to go out and conduct experiments on his own. If he’d been rejected, that was enough for some people to spur them to commit crimes they never would have in any other case.

  “No,” Dr. Rose said, wrapping his hands around his mug as though he was cold. “We haven’t. There’s a big problem with all of his applications.”

  “And what’s that?” Van asked.

  “He’s not a doctor.”

  Kat shook her head. “He’s not a doctor?”

  “Not in the traditional sense, no.” Dr. Rose said, “He has a doctorate in history, but not medicine. He’s not a medical doctor.”

  Kat frowned. “I’m confused. Why would this man be sending you ideas for medical experiments?”

  Dr. Rose sighed, “Most of the time, we receive information after some experiment or review of the literature has been conducted. The trials we receive information on have been sanctioned by local hospital boards, medical associations, and even the FDA. It’s our job to get the information out to the larger medical community to give them more information and more options when they are treating their patients. But sometimes, we will get an application for a trial or an experiment, and we fund it ourselves. Everyone on our board is a medical doctor, so we convene and decide if it’s a good idea, following all known best practices to make sure that people stay safe.”

  Van looked at the stack of letters and then up at Dr. Rose. “So, you think this guy, who’s not a medical doctor, is going ahead with his medical experiments even though he hasn’t been sanctioned by any medical board or accredited body. Do I have that right?”

  Dr. Rose nodded, “That’s exactly what I think.” He glanced at the pile of letters, his color suddenly turning ashen. “When I heard about what happened to those two kids at the high school, I thought the whole thing sounded strange. Usually, serial killers are violent. They are working out something in their psyche -- abuse, or neglect, or another psychological trait they can’t seem to cope with on their own. But the idea that someone would transfer one arm to another body was something I had heard before.” Dr. Rose pulled the top letter off of the stack, the rubber bands making a snapping sound as he pulled it away, “Take a look at this.”

  Kat opened the letter, the heavy cream paper stock fighting her a little as she opened it. She quickly scanned the letter and flipped through the pages. Her eye immediately caught on phrases that sounded an awful lot like what happened to Chelsea and Daniel. At the bottom of the page, the signature was written in a heavy black script, Dr. Joseph Schreiber. She passed it over to Van.

  “Do you know anything about this Dr. Schreiber?” Van asked. “You must kn
ow something based on all the letters he sent you.”

  “Other than the fact is not a medical doctor, the only thing I know about him is he teaches history at Grand Ridge College.”

  Kat’s stomach sunk. Grand Ridge College was where Ben Boyd had been kidnapped from and was found dead. She sucked in a breath, “He’s a professor there?”

  Dr. Rose nodded. “After I had gotten about ten of these letters, I decided to jump on the Internet and see what I could find. Based on the information on their website, it looks like he’s been there for quite a while. You’d have to check with them to be sure.”

  Van glanced at the stack of letters that were still sitting by Dr. Rose, “All of those are from him?”

  “Yes,” Dr. Rose said, “These are the ones I could find. There have been so many throughout the last five to ten years. I have to admit I’ve thrown most of them away. We get a lot of junk in the mail.”

  Van furrowed his eyebrows. “I’m assuming we can take these letters with us?”

  Dr. Rose nodded. “Yes, if the police need any more help, let me know. I’ve told you everything I know, but they may want to hear it from me.”

  Van slid out of the booth, Kat following. There was work to do. Van held the stack of letters in his hand, “One more question. Do doctors generally send you information in the mail?”

  Dr. Rose shook his head from side to side. “Almost never. We usually get everything submitted through our website. It’s been that way for the last several years. But this guy,” Dr. Rose dipped his head, peering over his thick glasses, “He always sends letters to us through regular mail.”