MemoryMen

by Michael Binkley

  Clearing his throat, Sully concluded, “It was the same guy. It had to be. The DNA tests confirmed it. We know we have a serial killer. Inspector Edwards called it, called it earlier than the third murder. With a preponderance of evidence showing the links between all three, the mayor’s office officially called in a special task force. It was the bulk of us in the Special Crimes Unit, plus some of the detectives already working out of the precincts. Everyone was put under Inspector Edward’s command. There are eight of us in all. The Inspector of course, myself and Leo Hernandez who also worked out of the Inspector’s office for a couple of years. The unit might get a bit larger depending on what the bad guy does. We also have a contingent of patrol officers and undercover cops as needed.”

  Carly remembered how the unit in Denver coalesced. Some of the detectives and officers were assigned just because they were there. Others though who saw the madness they had to combat had done everything they could to get assigned to the cases there. Carly had come aboard by luck of the draw on a cold January night, but his passion had kept him there until the end.

  “Finally the fourth murder confirmed it beyond all doubt. It occurred last Friday…”

  Carly interrupted, “Another Friday? All of them were on a Friday?”

  “Yes sir. I wondered if you had caught that. Sounding a bit familiar?”

  “Too familiar!”

  “…Anyway,” Sully continued with his description, “the woman was Marla Simmons. She was a model at one of those nude videos studios on the strip. She went off shift at about 5:00 p.m. on Thursday afternoon. Her body was found early Friday morning in an alley between two warehouses on the east side. The same overall M.O. as the other three murders. She had been gagged and there were bruises consistent with a struggle. Her neck was broken in the same fashion; however, her body had been thrown from the roof of one of the buildings. Tests confirm the same brown pubic hair belonging to the same guy. The blood type matched. He was a Caucasian, and the presence of the STD virus was confirmed. He was the only sex partner Marla had had in the previous 48 hours at least. While the DNA tests will link this murder with the others, we don’t need the tests to tell us the obvious.”

  Unable to contain himself, Carly dared to ask, “And was there extenuating circumstances with this murder as well?”

  Steeled for the question he knew the tall slender man was compelled to ask, Sully found it hard to give an answer never the less. “The twist on this murder was she had been tied to a large wooden beam, nearly a hundred pounds in weight when she was thrown from the roof. This was when Inspector Edwards decided to get in touch with you. With the nail wounds on the second victim and the last one tied to the beam, the Inspector felt there were some real copycat aspects that matched your ‘Crucifixion Killings” in Denver. We thought you might give us some insight into where this might be going. What to look for? How much of a copycat did we have and so on?”

  Trying to keep a bit of humanity in a horrific situation, Sully in his normal everyday staccato fashion felt inclined to let Carly in on some office gossip, “The Inspector is a big fan of yours, having read your book and followed the Denver case pretty closely. Most of us hadn’t read the book but with the national PR your crucifixion case got, we recalled the similarities once the Inspector pointed them out.”

  Before Sully could get on a roll, Carly cut in, chomping at the bit to know more about the murders. “Can I ask you some questions? Can you give me some more specifics, detective?”

  Nodding assent, Sully switched back to his police reporter mode.

  “Did you get anything out of the data base on the DNA?”

  “Negative Professor. We figured we would, after all this type of creep couldn’t be out on his virgin tour, so to speak. But no, there were no hits. A total blank across all databases.”

  “Did the lab indicate if there was an order to how the anal and vaginal intercourse occurred? Did one or the other happen first, or was it random?”

  Shaking his head, the little man replied, “I don’t know but it would be easy enough to check out. Why? Is it important?”

  “It could be. What about the bondage materials or the whips, were they the same for each victim?”

  Sully replied quickly, wanting to show Carly he knew most of the facts intimately even if he did miss a couple of them so far. “The lab said all the women’s hands were bound with the same cheap leather thongs. It was heavy-duty leather, cut from a larger piece. The widths were not consistent among the individual strips, so they had not been machined from a piece of leather, but rather hand cut.”

  “Any idea where it came from?”

  “It was cheap leather like the kind found on a cheap weight lifter’s belt. You know the kind, sort of a light brown or blonde color. Smooth on one side, rough on the other.”

  Carly kept shooting his questions at Sully, trying to get every detail down as he took notes, “What about the leather whip, you said was used in the first and third murders? How did you know it was leather? Was it one the victim used in her business?”

  “No, we don’t believe so. People who knew the girls, said they didn’t have ‘toys’ out on the street, as the street ‘johns’ usually weren’t that sophisticated. We found Arlene’s bag of goodies in her apartment and none of it matched up to the evidence on her body.”

  Sully, shook his head as he recalled, “Whoever was swinging the whip knew what he was doing because he left some hellacious welts and a couple of severe lacerations on each of the victims. Particles of the leather were found in the cuts and it was the same type of leather used in the restraints. In fact, the lash marks were so evident the inconsistency of the width of the individual lashes showed up easily.”

  Pausing for a moment his eyes drifted from the street to stare idly in the distance as he recalled the detail he was looking for Sully added, “Lash marks were an eighth of an inch to three-eighths wide. There was no evidence the whip was made in the motel room. This guy came prepared to do this particular bent.”

  With a knowledgeable curiosity, Carly queried, “Sully, did your investigators find any evidence that the strands on the whip were knotted?”

  “They sure did, sir,” the detective responded, a bit amazed Carly knew such a minute detail. “We found marks from the knots on each line of abrasion or laceration, approximately…”.

  “…Three inches apart,” Carly interjected before Sully could finish his answer.

  “How did you know that sir?” the detective asked incredulously. “Is this guy copy-catting your boy from Denver that closely?”

  “I don’t know Sully; I just took a stab at it to see if the parallels between the two men were that close. The knots in the whip strand are a pretty small detail, the distance between the knots borders on minutiae. Only someone familiar with the Denver murders would know the distance between the knots. Either that or it’s a remarkable coincidence. I’m sure I didn’t put it in the book I wrote about the case. That information was not relevant to the psychology of the crime, which was the emphasis of the book.”

  Carly didn’t like the feeling he was getting. Things were definitely different in these four cases from his ‘Crucifixion’ case. However, the similarities which did exist were getting to be more than coincidental. The last thing he wanted was to see a copycat of the Denver murders, as no one deserved something so heinous in their city.

  “Tell me about the nails used on the second victim,” the professor asked, feeling himself becoming drawn to, if not enthralled by the lure of an investigation.

  “They were common in the fact they could have been bought at any lumber yard or hardware store in the city. However, they weren’t the kind most guys would have had lying around their garages. The nails were the two-headed kind of nails carpenters use. ‘Duplex’ nails they are called. The real grisly part about it is the lab says the guy hammered them into the victim while the girl was still alive and probably still conscious. At least she would have been conscious when he started, then s
he might have passed out from the pain.”

  Sully snapped a look of caution at Carly, “Don’t tell me that’s the same as the Denver case?” With a slight quiver in his voice, he added, “This bastard was demonic in his brutality!”

  Trying to assuage the man’s growing nervousness, Carly laughed out loud and added joking, “Obviously you didn’t read my book, Sully. The nails are different, but still there were nails used in the same way.”

  Thinking back to the first time he had encountered such monstrous behavior, Carly told Sully, “In Denver, the killer used horse shoeing nails, since that is what he did for a living. He was a blacksmith and farrier. He only did that on the first victim. She probably was conscious though when it happened, or at least when it started. He had driven the nails into her skull using a circular pattern around her head, like a crown of thorns, so to speak.”

  As an afterthought, Carly added, “It sounds like your killer has some carpentry in his background.”

  “You could be right Professor. Inspector Edwards thought so too. Some of us at the Central office had figured on the murderer being a weight lifter. Between the leather on the belt, and then the strength it would take to snap a person’s neck like he did, as well as having the strength to throw a woman off a roof top with a beam attached to her, it would take a real gorilla.”

  “This Inspector Edwards is a sharp one,” Carly thought and told Sully as much.

  “The belt you are talking about could have been a carpenter’s belt. After all, the guy’s probably using what’s close at hand. If he’s gotten the nails from the job site, he just might have gotten the tool belt just the same. The same thing applies to the duct tape. Go to any residential construction site and you will find rolls of it everywhere.”

  Feeling a bit more at ease, Sully added, “Gee Professor, you can find rolls of that stuff all over my house too. It beats really trying to fix stuff. I just duct tape it when in doubt.”

  Laughing out loud, the detective added, “You are right about the book too. I didn’t read it when it first came out, but the Inspector did…twice, I think.”

  “Sully, I think I am really starting to like this Inspector Edwards, of yours.”

  With a grin that almost seemed to be a leer, the small man leaned towards Carly and in a quiet voice, said, “Professor, I have no doubt in my mind you will. You two will hit it off better than you can imagine.”

  The remark and the way it was delivered puzzled Carly but he didn’t question Sully about it, rather saving his energies and time for the murders. “One other thing I would like to know about the first and second murders, did either or both of the women have any knife marks on their bodies when they were found? New cuts which the killer might have made?”

  “No sir,” came the reply. “I can check with forensics though just to be sure. Why do you ask?”

  “In Denver, the murderer marked his first victim with a small ‘x’ on her forehead. Since your guy seems to want to mimic the Denver murders, I wondered if he had done that as well.”

  “I’ll check as soon as we get to the office. I’m really interested in hearing about the similarities you are finding. Also I promise to read the book, but when we have time will you tell me about the Denver case?”

  “Sure but you have got to promise me you will really read the book at some point. After all I still get royalties from the sales.”

  Sully laughed, “I’ll read it but remember I’m on a Lieutenant’s salary so forgive me if I borrow a copy from the public library. Or raid somebody’s Kindle.”

  Carly smiled to himself as Detective Sullivan pulled into the parking garage at the police building. He had an almost tangible feeling of excitement in his stomach. He realized how much he had missed being a cop. The camaraderie, the quick friendships one could strike up while working a case were feelings he welcomed back. His mind raced along as he thought about the four murders Sully had described. He launched a thousand scenarios and possibilities in his mind of how they might have happened, who the players might have been, and the motives behind each. The cop in him was never too far from the surface… ‘Professor’ or not.

  Gliding through the cool tile hallways and onto the elevator, Carly took a deep breath, loving every minute of a day he had thought was destined to be a waste of time, energy and what little sense of humor Merriwhether had extracted from him. He was excited about meeting Inspector Edwards, thinking he might be a fan. If nothing, the Inspector was a kindred spirit, after all anyone would have to be to have read Carly’s book twice. The possibility of sharing a few beers with a couple of cops, swapping old war stories and kibitzing on a case were items sorely missed in Carly’s present academic and therapeutic life.

  As they wove their way past cops, lawyers and throngs of people and into the squad room, Carlton Thompson, astute master detective, had not noticed the tall attractive black woman approaching him until she planted herself squarely in his path. The abruptness of her presence reminded him of every good administrative assistant he had ever met, instantly protective of turf intrusions and always at the ready to place themselves between intruders and their bosses.

  His admiration turned to confusion as his hand was swept up by the woman’s firm grasp as she said, “You must be Professor Thompson. I’m Diane Edwards, Homicide Inspector.”

  Quickly before Carly could speak, she added, “It’s my pleasure Professor, I’ve been a real fan of yours, ever since my college days.”

  The apparent confusion registered visibly on Carly’s face, while a growth of embarrassment started to shade his cheeks with a touch of crimson. Like a cast off to a more misogynist time, he had automatically assumed Inspector Edwards had been a man, and any intervening woman had to be a subordinate. Before him, standing nearly equal in height, was a woman of great attractiveness ten to fifteen years his junior. Sharp angular features coupled with a broad expansive smile immediately put his embarrassment and confusion to rest. The strong grip of her handshake, bereft of the usual bone-crushing vise of his male counterparts, bespoke of a person strong within herself without feeling the need for overt displays.

  As she grinned at him, she chuckled under her breath, “Oh Professor, I am sorry! Obviously Detective Sullivan hadn’t told you about me.”

  Turning to the smaller man, she gently chided him, “Shame on you Sully!”

  As she returned to Carly, she stated the obvious, “You expected a man, didn’t you? Well don’t feel too badly, it happens all the time.”

  “Inspector,” Carly all but stammered in his uneasiness with his faux pas, “I am the one to be sorry. I usually wait a bit longer after meeting someone before I make a complete ass out of myself. Nothing like putting my worst sexist foot forward. Forgive me. Name your price and I’ll gladly pay the penance!”

  “Professor…”

  “Please Inspector, I like my friends to call me ‘Carly’. I hope you won’t hold my social ineptness against me.” Carly pleaded. While his horror was somewhat exaggerated, he was feeling quite sheepish nonetheless.

  “Carly,” the Inspector smiled warmly using the nickname, “don’t worry about it. We’re probably kindred spirits anyway, so we both can toss the formalities aside. You can call me Diane. As for your penance, how about you spending some time with Sully and me, allowing us the luxury of picking your brain about the “Crucifixion Killings” in Denver. After seeing what we have here, I’m sure the similarities are worth investigating. I read your book when I was getting my bachelor’s degree in criminology. I re-read it a couple of week ago, so I am pretty uncomfortable with the copycat aspect we’ve been seeing in this recent batch of homicides here. As a case study in motivational behavior, your book was intriguing, it made me a real convert into your area of psychology.”

  Smiling at the sincere flattery, Carly replied, “Thanks. It seems as if not all the world would agree with you anymore. The whole idea of studying and adjusting motivations for what we do is getting to be passé in the more contemporary psycho
logical circles. Quick fixes seem to be in vogue.”

  Moving into Diane’s office, Sully ordered out for sandwiches and coffee, allowing Carly to spend some time looking over the memorabilia his hostess had on her walls and desk. He was impressed by the citations and awards, citing bravery and a number of years of solid police work. A photo of Diane at the academy graduation, alongside an older policeman sparked his interest.

  “You and your dad?” he asked, seeing the resemblance in the sober eyes of both of the people in the photo.

  Smiling proudly, Diane nodded, “Yep, that’s me and my Dad. We were pretty proud that day. One more Edwards on the force.”

  Setting the picture down gently for the treasure it was, Carly settled into an easy chair, relaxing for the first time in his fast paced morning. Diane seeing him comfortable got the ball rolling as she began quizzing Carly about the briefing he had received in the car.

  “Other than an incomplete discussion about me, did Sully fill you in on our four cases so far?”

  Carly regaled Sully’s efforts at summarizing the cases. He reminded Sully there were a couple of follow-up questions to check with in the case notes and forensics reports, regarding the sequence of the intercourse and the possibility of any type of mark on the first two victims. As Sully hurried out to wrap up these details, Carly used the opportunity to find out more about the attractive woman seated across the desk from him.

  “Tell me about yourself,” he asked wasting no time. “While I might come across as a complete jerk from time to time, it is still unusual to meet very many women this far up the ranks, especially in the detective arena. The supposedly shattered glass ceiling, notwithstanding.”