by Irving Munro
After the FBI was backed up enough, Luther undid the shackles on Marie’s ankles and led her to a Jeep ready and waiting in the underground garage. He used cable ties to fasten her wrists to the frame of the Jeep, went back inside and returned with bags of ammo and the AR15. After loading them in the back, he fastened the shotgun to a custom-frame structure over the passenger seat so that it would stabilize, allowing him to fire out of the passenger side window. He had the Sig Sauer pistols on his lap so he could use them to fire out the driver’s side. Marie was secure in the back. He was ready to roll.
Chapter 46 -Navajo State Park
2014 - The Cold Case Investigation
“What’s taking him so long?” said Harry. “He should have released her by now. Something’s not right here.”
As Harry turned back to the house, explosions erupted all over the property, billowing smoke and debris. The sound was deafening. In the basement, Luther pressed a remote on the Jeep and the concealed garage door flew open. He gunned the Jeep. The V6 blower did its work engaging the four-wheel traction and the Jeep roared forward like a bat out of hell.
As the Jeep flew out of the back, one of the Archuleta Sheriff’s deputies at the rear of the house was mowed down by the onrushing vehicle and died instantly as his head ricocheted off the grill.
Jack Johnson, driven by instinct, rushed forward pistol drawn.
~
The Jeep was powering through the forest. Luther had done at least twenty practice runs over the past couple of years, so he knew every bend, turn, dip, and climb. The Jeep had three rows of powerful halogen headlights that lit up the road like a Texas football field on a Friday night. Luther was going fifty when the Jeep shot out from the gravel road where Tommy and Raul had been parked and took a sharp right hand turn toward Pagosa Springs.
Raul had seen everything and was ready. The Archuleta Sheriff’s SUV lurched forward, churning up gravel as the tires spun. It hit the Dobermans like 12-gauge buckshot and they whined in pain. As they chased Luther down, Tommy updated Harry DeWalt on the radio.
“In pursuit of target down Cemetery Road toward Highway 160!”
Harry and his team scrambled up the hill at the side of the house and ran to the vehicles. “Get that chopper ready!” he yelled down the radio as the vehicles speed off in the direction of the airport.
Luther turned on to Highway 160 East and ran the traffic lights in the center of Pagosa Springs, reaching almost 80 mph as he exited the town. Raul was in close pursuit while Tommy tracked their route with his iPhone.
“Where’s he going?” thought Tommy. Fifteen minutes went by and as the Jeep turned left on to Highway 151, he knew.
“He’s headed to the lake at Navajo State Park!” he yelled down the radio. “That’s where his wife drowned in 2003!”
The FBI team got to the chopper in record time but thirty-five minutes had passed since Tommy had reported that they were headed south on Highway 151. As the chopper got into the air, Luther was already at the vicinity of Navajo State Park and was turning right on to Route 159 that skirted the northern part of the lake. Ten minutes later, he pulled into the road leading to the boathouse and, as he did, he shut off the lights on the Jeep.
Less than a minute later, Luther saw Raul’s SUV flying along 159 going straight past the boathouse turn in his rear view mirror. Luther smiled, activated the remote, and pulled the Jeep into the garage at the rear of the boathouse.
“Shit, we’ve lost him!” exclaimed Raul.
“Stop and go back. He must have turned off and it can’t be more than a mile back!” said Tommy.
A few minutes later, they saw the road to the boathouse and turned in.
The road dead-ended at an old grey beach house and their SUV screeched to a stop. “No sign of the Jeep but this is the only place they can be. Raul, you take the left and I’ll take the right.”
~
As Tommy and Raul crept around the house towards the lake, Luther yelled, “Get in the fucking boat, bitch. You think I was stupid or something believing that you were talking with Summer? That was all bullshit. I’m free and clear to Mexico and you are going to a watery grave in the middle of the lake!”
Marie, still feeling the effects of the drug cocktail, could smell the stench of marine grade diesel and could see the hate in Luther’s eyes as he bundled her into the boat. He secured her hands with more cable ties to the railing of the boat so that she was right next him. He started the engine and raised the door from the boathouse to the lake. With one hand on the controls and the other holding the Sig Saur against Marie’s temple, the boat slowly exited the boathouse.
The exit channel from the boathouse to the lake had a docking pier on either side. As the boat pulled out, Tommy yelled at him from the docking pier on the right side pier.
“Stop right there, Luther or I shoot!”
Caught off guard, Luther released the boat controls and grabbed Marie around the throat. As he did so, he saw Raul on the other pier with his gun pointed at his chest.
“Back off, or she’s dead,” sneered Luther.
At that moment, Marie rolled the dice again and looked past Luther out to the center of the lake.
“Summer? Is that you Summer?”
It only took a fraction of a second but Luther turned his head to look.
As he snapped his head back around realizing the deception, Marie, unpracticed in the art of hand-to-hand Scottish pub fighting, landed the most perfect Glasgow Kiss the world has ever seen on the bridge of Luther’s nose.
His nose exploded, blood, bone and snot going in all directions. He released his grip on Marie and fell back, shooting wildly in every direction. Four slugs hit him simultaneously, two in the chest, one in his neck and the final one, fired by Tommy, below the right eye, taking off the back of his head and knocking him out of the boat, into the water.
Tommy jumped into the boat and hugged Marie.
“That was quite a Glasgow Kiss, Marie. My dad will laugh his head off when I tell him what you did.” As he was saying this, tears were running down his cheeks. Raul was at his side and he cut the cable ties that Luther had used to secure Marie in the boat.
“I wasn’t going to let you die, Marie. That wasn’t going to happen,” said Tommy as he hugged her again.
The adrenaline rush of the encounter had drained them completely and they flopped down at the rear of the boat. They stared out over the stillness of the lake as the moon beams made it shimmer. It was eerily silent. The silence was briefly broken by the call of a Great Blue Heron gliding slowly across the surface of the lake.
Chapter 47 -Jack Johnson
2014 - The Cold Case Investigation
Ten minutes later, the chopper landed. Marie, Tommy and Raul were still recovering when Harry DeWalt and his team ran along the side of the boathouse to the dock with guns drawn.
Harry DeWalt jumped into the boat and with the help of Tommy and Raul, helped Marie out on to the dock. Her heroism and clarity of thought while facing certain death had been astounding. Harry looked Marie in the eye, shook her hand, and said, “Outstanding work, Detective, fucking outstanding!”
“Where’s the rest of the team,” said Tommy. “Where’s Jack?”
“Tommy, why don’t you step over here for a moment,” said Harry and the two former Marines went off out of sight behind the boathouse.
“Don’t you fuck with me, Harry. Where’s Jack, where’s my boss?” said Tommy now realizing that something really bad had happened.
Harry’s eyes held back tears. Every fiber of his military background told him to be firm. “Jack’s dead, Tommy.”
Tommy screamed and Harry grabbed him by the arms. “Let go of me!” yelled Tommy. “What happened, what the fuck happened!”
“Get yourself together Marine!” demanded Harry. “Jack died in the line of fire, he did what he was trained to do. He tried to bring a scumbag to justice!”
“Tell me what happened Harry, please tell me what happened?” sobbed Tomm
y, now over the initial shock.
“He rushed that Jeep when he saw it mow down one of the Archuleta deputies. It was instinct, Tommy. He shot at the side window of the Jeep, jumped and tried to grab Fisher as the Jeep roared on its way. We found his body laying fifty yards up the gravel path. Fisher had shot him in the face at point blank range. He probably died instantly.”
Tommy’s legs gave way and he fell to his knees. Harry put a hand on the back of his fellow Marine and left him to recover from the shocking news. He then made his way back to the boathouse to coordinate the work still to be done.
They loaded the chopper and took Luther’s body, the body of the Archuleta Deputy Sam Brown and Jack’s body back to the medical examiner in Denver. The chopper then returned with a full forensics team. Tommy and Marie, although overcome by grief at the death of Jack Johnson, asked to assist in the gathering of the evidence.
Chief Dunwoody arranged for Jack’s body to be flown back to Austin and gave the team the go ahead to stay after talking with the FBI and Archuleta Sheriff’s Office.
Tommy called Bill and told him the whole story. Both he and Tommy broke down in tears at the loss of their colleague and their friend.
~
Two crime scene teams were deployed, one focused on the main house and the other on the cabin. It didn’t take long for the team in the main house to find the secret doors to the labyrinth of passages. They took the elevator down to the basement and found an environment that could have sustained a long-term siege. There was a huge water tank incorporating a filtration system that injected a small amount of chlorine into the water to ensure that there was no parasitic infestation. Luther had hoarded a store of canned and dried foods that would have sustained him for months. To ensure he maintained sanitary conditions, he had installed a chemical waste-processing unit with venting up through the ceiling and into the roof space of the house. A small generator used the same venting system and provided heat and light. Finally, there was an arsenal of weaponry and ammo that could have equipped a small army.
Further analysis of the cabin yielded the evidence of the twisted mind of a sexual sadist and serial killer. The Summer bedroom was a shrine to his late wife. The Winter bedroom was a torture chamber. Luther was almost certainly misogynistic as this room was constructed to inflict maximum pain and in doing so, feed a sexual depravity rooted in the hatred of women. It was difficult to comprehend that any woman who entered that room left alive.
The viewing room held all the confirmation they needed. Like the Nazis and Adolf Eichmann in particular, Luther had created a systemic catalogue of everything he did. There were detailed written notes accompanied by videos and a photographic portfolio that was a historical record of all that he had done. This allowed the beast to relive his work on demand and wallow in its savagery as he salivated at the pain and suffering that each activity had bestowed on the victim.
The earliest Super 8 videos were a record of savagery on small animals until he graduated to young girls. There was a detailed record of the rape of the girl at Vanderbilt University. The early part of that video showed his victim, restrained face down on a bed, legs held wide apart with a gag in her mouth. The videographer was either Jim McCord or Billy Pell but the brutality of the assault by Luther was self-evident. The latter part of the video showed Jim and Billy taking their turn. They were both very timid in their efforts and that upset the videographer immensely. The voice of Luther Fisher could be heard barking instructions. When they failed to implement those instructions, they were ridiculed for their ineptness.
The walls of the viewing room were adorned with headshots of the women. One wall was dedicated to Summer, with her portrait at the top. It was a portrait showing a radiant young woman, full of life, seated at a small Parisian-type round table with a bottle of wine and a glass in her hand. Her look of desire was palpable, her eyes begging for the caresses of an eager lover. This was not a pornographic portrait: this was the work of a world-class photographer who had captured not only the depth of her beauty but also the simmering cauldron of desire that lay beneath.
Below this exquisite portrait hung headshots of a different nature. There were a total of ten, one for each year following the death of Summer. Each woman had excessive facial makeup and bright red lipstick. These headshots had been taken post mortem and, compared to the beauty of the image at the top of the wall, were opposite in the extreme. No life, no beauty, no desire. Like shots taken of a corpse on the coroner’s operating table.
The videos and the written records detailed what had happened to them. He had videotaped them upon their arrival in the summer bedroom, when he restrained them and told them about the ordeal that was to follow. It recorded the terror and the look of complete despair. What followed was days of repeated rape and depravity.
The final act was to clean the victim and dress her in a white cotton dress. It recorded the transportation in the RV and the final part of the journey when he took them out into the center of the lake, killed them by suffocation, weighted their bodies down and slipped them slowly into the water. The video continued as in each case the white dress first rose to the surface and then was drawn down into the depths never to be seen again.
They also found the videos and notes that told the whole story of Galina’s abduction and death. Luther had seen Galina soon after she arrived in Pagosa and began stalking her in preparation for her abduction. Then he saw her with Jim McCord. In his twisted mind, Summer had come back and cheated on him again. He wrote in his notes that this was not the way the game was played.
He knew that McCord normally returned to his home in Austin on the Friday of the week after the Labor Day week. In 2005, that was Friday, September 16, so he planned to leave Summer in his Austin backyard next to Lake Austin on Thursday the 15th.
Was there some part of his mind that constructed this sick scenario to get back at Mary McCord and Jim McCord because they had been there when Summer drowned? Or did he want to punish Jim McCord for his affair with Summer? We will never know.
~
The FBI returned with Tommy and Marie to Austin. Chief Dunwoody requested that he, Tommy, and Marie be present when Jim McCord was finally charged with the Nashville rape. McCord was led into the room in the Austin FBI field office and Vern Bailey did the honors, “Jim McCord, I am arresting you for the aggravated rape of Pauline Lawson on the campus of Vanderbilt University.” Vern continued on to read McCord his Miranda rights.
Jim McCord was then led away and immediately transported to Nashville.
Before leaving the Austin FBI field office, Tommy and Marie cornered Vern Bailey.
“Were there any discussions about Mary McCord and the possibility that she might have been complicit in the drowning death of Summer Fisher?” asked Tommy.
“Yes, we discussed that but the conclusion we reached was the same as the one the Archuleta DA had reached back in 2003. There was not sufficient evidence to pursue a case against her,” said Vern.
Vern, Tommy, and Marie said their good-byes, and the Travis County police team returned to their 34th Street HQ.
Chapter 48 -A final resting place
2014 - The Cold Case Investigation
Marie and Tommy met with Chief Dunwoody in his office on 34th Street. “We need to inform Galina Alkaev’s parents about her death,” said Tommy.
“Agreed,” said the Chief. “Where are her remains?”
“She’s buried in the Travis County International Cemetery. We should ask if they would like her remains returned to their hometown or left where they are.”
“I agree, Tommy. Go track them down and make the call.”
~
“Alkaev Family Restaurant. Nikolay Alkaev speaking. How may I help you?”
“I am Detective Marie Mason of the Travis County Police Department in Austin, Texas. I would like to speak with Mr. Alexi Alkaev please, is he available?”
“My father is dead. How may I help you, Detective? Is it about Galina?”
&n
bsp; “Yes it is Mr. Alkaev. I am sorry to have to inform you she is dead.”
A moment passed before Nikolay asked, “How did she die, Detective?
“She was murdered.”
A longer moment passed before Nikolay said, “My mother and I both felt that it was likely that Galina was dead. We never said the words out loud to one another, but we knew in our heart that she was gone.”
“My father passed away in 2010 and the restaurant was too much for my mother, so I stepped in and took over the day-to-day running of the business. My mother still helps on a part-time basis to keep herself busy.”
Marie could hear the sadness in Nikolay’s voice, so she let him continue. “The disappearance of Galina had hastened the death of my father. The community here in Pikesville rallied around to provide support but it was obvious that the disappearance of my sister and his beloved daughter had ripped his heart out and what was left was a shell that took seven years to die. My mother too suffered but she endured. She is the Matriarch of our family and it is her strength that inspires us.”
“Let me get my mother. She’ll want to hear this,” said Nikolay.
There was a long stillness as he fetched his mother to the phone. The two sat in silence as Marie told them what had happened. As she went on, Marie could hear Lyudmila sobbing in the background.
When Marie finished, Nikolay took a breath and said, “Of course, her body must be returned. We will pay whatever it costs. She must have a Panikhida and we must sing the Trsiagion for the release of her soul.”
~
And so it was done. The body of Galina Alkaev was exhumed and transported back to Pikesville. Nikolay flew out to be present at the exhumation and then to escort her body home.