“How can you be so sure?”
“Logic and facts,” Wolfe said. “The weighing of the two made it possible for me to solve hundreds of homicides over two decades.”
“Please continue.” The true-crime author put down his pen and leaned closer.
“Fact—the Dario Group terminated thirty-seven people over a twenty-two year period. We have supporting evidence from the crime scenes, and we have documents from the Dario Group archives. In all cases, the terminations were well planned and meticulously implemented.
“Logic—if the Dario Group had intended to terminate a Chicago PD homicide detective in front of 500 people at the national CCLR meeting, their executioner would have been a professional trained in the use of weapons. A high caliber weapon would be used to ensure success.
“Fact—Paul Timberman was a novice with guns. He missed me twelve times from fifteen feet away. He used a .22 caliber pistol. Even if I had been hit several times, the chance of survival was high.
“Fact—the Dario Group knew their member Paul Timberman was not a stable man. They knew he despised the homicide detectives and defense attorneys.
“Logic—they would have never approved Paul Timberman sitting on the front row at a lecture given by a homicide detective or defense attorney.”
“Why did he despise you?”
“He lost his wife a few years earlier—sexual assault and beaten to death in front of him. They beat and left him for dead too, but he survived. I worked the case. The man found guilty served only five years.
“We had DNA, blood, and semen. We had video of the guy entering and leaving the Timberman’s home. Smart lawyers did their jobs. There were processing errors made. Legal technicalities threw out key evidence and created enough doubt that the state had to negotiate. He got murder-two and was released early for good behavior.”
“Could you have done more as the lead investigator?”
“I struggled with that question for many years. I could have done some things a little differently, but after working hundreds of homicides over two decades, and after sitting in hundreds of courtrooms watching the process, I know I could not have made a difference in the outcomes. You see, in today’s world there is too much quicksand between the victims and justice.”
“Do you mean legal quicksand?”
“As a homicide investigator, I walk into a crime scene faced with countless details and conditions without knowing anything from the start. If anyone at that crime scene makes a wrong move, the case can fall apart in a courtroom down the road.”
“Errors and uncontrolled variables?”
“Weather conditions, the people at the crime scene, the killer’s cover up, and human error are just a few things that open the door for a multitude of interpretations. That stark reality creates endless opportunities for reasonable doubt. Any good lawyer can manipulate jury perception.”
“I guess it is a well-known fact that people see the same things differently. I believe it is a human condition.”
Wolfe smiled. “And when that truth enters the criminal justice system, guilty people can go free. To get back to your question about who shot Louie Landers, I need to set the stage. The Dario Group was surprised to see Mr. Timberman sitting on the front row of my presentation. They were desperate to get him out of there, but after I started speaking they had no way to accomplish that without drawing attention or creating a scene.”
“So they had to accept Timberman could lose it.”
“The Dario Group was forced into an unplanned containment operation. If Timberman lost it, they had to make sure he was not able to talk to authorities after the fact.”
“That was why Margaret Sorensen went back stage.”
Wolfe nodded. “After Timberman emptied his gun the second time, I had an opportunity to stop him. When I shot him, I saw him look back stage. I turned in time to see Margaret Sorensen move her gun from Timberman to me. She no longer needed to neutralize Mr. Timberman. Because I saw her with the gun, she now needed to neutralize me.”
“You saw Mrs. Sorensen shoot you?”
“Yes. If I had not found her in the curtains when I did, I would not have moved enough to avoid a fatal shot. I went after her. Louie was jumping rows of seats to come help. He saw her too. He went back stage. Mrs. Sorensen shot him twice.”
“Now I understand. It makes sense. Let me shift gears to possibly the most important question. When did you know Joe Hutson was Dario?”
“At the brownstone I had my suspicions he had some level of involvement. Those suspicions were confirmed on Birch Avenue the night he died.”
“What triggered your suspicions?”
“The setup at the brownstone smelled. Joe’s injuries were minor, could have been self-inflicted. The way he was tied—could have done it himself. Margaret Sorensen in the closet not tied and unconscious, very odd. The diary was a major clue. If Joe had been really working the case, he would have found it. The way Sorensen looked at Joe—seemed maternal.”
“Was Dr. Jacques Sorensen’s diary your first window into the Dario Group?”
“Not a lot about the Dario Group in there,” Wolfe said. “More about Dario the patient and Jacques Sorensen’s lifetime of killing patients he could not help.”
“It never mentioned Joe Hutson?”
“No. Joe was a well-kept family secret,” Wolfe said.
“When did you know the Dario Group was a vigilante group focused on terminating serial killers who beat the criminal justice system?”
“When I worked the Eric Ramsey homicide. He was killed by sniper fire—one shot between the eyes through an open window at night from a mile away. Nobody pays for that kind of talent to eliminate one scumbag. It had to be an organized effort with a broader purpose. A few nights after the Ramsey killing, Lindsey told me about the Dario Group. I believed she believed, but for me it needed more investigation.”
“Only a few people alive today witnessed the physical changes that created the man called Dario. I’m having trouble getting any one to talk about it. Can you help me understand what happened to Joe Hutson that made him become this monster?”
“I was there when Joe died,” Wolfe said. “We don’t like to talk about it because it takes away from a guy we all cared about. Joe was a good man. We saw him as a man trying hard to be a good homicide detective. We didn’t know anything about the battles he fought his whole life.”
“I respect that. But his story must be told. It matters.”
Wolfe slid his sunglasses to the top of his head and sighed. The young author was right and he knew it. “Dr. Jacques Sorensen explained the physical change as a metamorphosis. I suggest you go through Dario’s medical records with a psychiatrist. The only thing missing is Joe’s name.”
“I will, but it will mean more if it is in the words of an eyewitness who knew Joe.”
Wolfe rubbed his neck searching for the words. “I only saw him change from Dario back to Joe. I still can’t believe my eyes. When I entered the room on Birch, I saw him on his knees by the fire facing Margaret Sorensen. His shoulders and arms were enormous, very muscular like a professional weight lifter. His face was deformed, angry. He looked dangerous. As I watched, his pronounced features melted away and the Dario persona left him. The anger and bizarre physical anomalies were gone in seconds, like relaxing a tensed muscle.”
“Did Joe Hutson control the change?”
“No. He experienced it. Joe disappeared the last few weeks because he could not control Dario. That reality may have brought things to a head.”
The young author turned off his recorder and closed his notebook. The two stared at the water in silence. The life and experiences of Joseph Hutson would not be fully understood for years, but the actions of the Dario Group were likely being played out in other cities.
“Do you think they were right, the Dario Group?” the author asked.
“You mean dealing with serial intent—private citizens taking on a mission to kill the monsters our s
ystem sets free?” Wolfe asked.
“Yes. Seems the legal system is not going to change enough on its own to better meet the needs of victims and survivors.”
Wolfe smiled as he slid his sunglasses back on his nose. Lindsey walked up, draped her arms over his shoulders, and rested her head on the back of his neck.
“When it comes to reform of the criminal justice system, all I hear about are efforts to reduce incarcerations and pull back law enforcement. I don’t hear much about more aggressive penalties for serial offenders. We have become a more tolerant society over the years. I think that reality is out of line with most people who are not speaking up. I know it is not in line with the family and friends of victims. When a Bengal tiger walks the streets, society wants it removed. When it kills, they want it destroyed. It tasted human flesh. It will kill again.”
“Is it possible your experience as a homicide detective has jaded you?”
Wolfe stared at the horizon as Lindsey rubbed his arm. She and Aaron were both lawyers and had real monsters in their lives. Under the stars above Lake Michigan, they often spoke about serial killers and the failing legal process.
“The United States accounts for five percent of the world population and twenty-five percent of the inmate population—that’s over two million in jail. Every year more than a half-million people are released from state and federal prisons: parole, probation, and work-release programs or pardons independent of the law or the penalty. I have never understood the political fixation on releasing criminals early. To me it’s a death wish. I may be jaded, but it is hard to ever envision a shift in the focus. The predators are out there.”
Wolfe turned back to the young author as Lindsey sat up next to him. “I don’t see our criminal justice system even catching up to current technology until I am long gone.”
“I don’t follow.”
“Our criminal justice system is based on one premise—a person is innocent until proven guilty beyond a reasonable doubt. That made perfect sense over the last two-hundred years, but today we can catch a criminal on video committing a heinous crime. The video eliminates all doubt and questions of guilt. Now, the goal of a defense attorney is to remove that damning technology (evidence) from consideration in a courtroom. Does that action support our quest for justice? Is that what society had in mind when it sought to put in place a process to protect them from evil?”
“What are you suggesting?”
“I am saying in today’s world some are guilty until proven innocent,” Wolfe said. “Technology can be far more accurate than the courtroom. Do you ever see our criminal justice system embracing that reality?”
“Probably not in my lifetime,” said the author.
“DNA should never be thrown out. New technology should always be incorporated and processes modified to deal with real facts. A criminal history should always be admissible. Eyewitnesses should give testimony in a manner that protects them first. Serial killers should be executed. Murder should be a life sentence at minimum—it is for the victim. For me, these are common sense if one seeks justice and to protect society,” Wolfe said.
“Those are significant changes. Many fly in the face of human rights.”
“It is a human right to live in a safe world. It is a human right to live! The mission of a criminal justice system is to deliver justice. Through that justice people are safer. I’m afraid ours is failing to keep up in important areas.”
“You would agree that is your opinion. There’s no proof society wants change.”
“There are more guns in America than people,” Wolfe said. “They can’t all be collectors or sportsmen. That number tells me there are a whole lot of people out there who don’t feel safe. Maybe if our criminal justice system did a better job, those numbers would be different.”
“Well said, honey,” Lindsey teased. “We need to move this conversation to the house and lunch? This discussion is good for you, even though you’re no longer in law enforcement.”
Wolfe smiled. “Not sure I know how it’s good for me.” He got to his feet looking down the beach. “Joseph. Liddy,” he yelled. “Time to eat.”
“Your kids—fourish and fivish?”
“Joe is six and Liddy five. Lindsey and I married when I left the Chicago PD. After Louie died and Ben Crowley retired, I had an opportunity to change my life. I’m glad I did.”
“Your kids will have a great life growing up out here.”
“Yes. And I intend for them to be safe,” Wolfe said.
When they turned to walk to the house, the author saw the Smith & Wesson holstered in the small of Wolfe’s back. Then the sweatshirt dropped.
A Bengal tiger won’t get far on this beach . . .
Books by Steve Bradshaw
The Bell Trilogy
Bluff City Butcher
The Skies Roared
Blood Lions
* * *
Evil Like Me
* * *
Serial Intent
About the Author
STEVE BRADSHAW is a forensic field agent and biotech entrepreneur writing his unique brand of mystery/thrillers. Steve’s training and experience investigating thousands of unexplained deaths for the medical examiner’s office, and as the founder-President/CEO of an innovative biomedical device company enables him to put his readers on the front row in the fascinating worlds of fringe science, modern forensics, and the chilling pursuit of real monsters.
Steve enjoys sharing his experiences and perspectives as a forensic investigator, President/CEO, and mystery/thriller author. Visit his website and join MEMBER GUEST so you can interact with the author, get insider information and updates, arrange for an author visit, and to be the first in line for new releases.
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