And just saying those words, Stratford Strangler, took her back to the last time she’d said them. Sitting in this very chair, on a call with Stanley Forbes, interviewing him about Andie Bell’s coroner’s inquest. She’d brought up the article he’d recently written about the Stratford Strangler, marking five years since his arrest. Stanley down the end of the phone, alive, but not for long because his blood is dripping out of the edges of her phone, covering her hands and—
“Pip?”
She flinched, wiping her bloody hands on her jeans. Clean, they’re clean. “Sorry, what did you say?” Pip hunched her back, folding her chest around her hummingbird heart.
“I said click on it, then. The article.”
“But…it’s got nothing to do with—”
“It’s matched four of your search terms,” he said, grip tightening again. “Pretty coincidental for a stab in the dark. Just click on it and see what it says.”
US>Connecticut>News>Crime
DT Killer Still at Large After Claiming Fourth Victim
LINDSEY LEVISON FEBRUARY 5, 2014
Last week, police found the body of Julia Hunter, 22, now officially confirmed as the fourth victim of the DT Killer. Julia—who was living with her parents and her sister in Stamford, Connecticut—was killed on the evening of January 28, her body discovered the following morning on a golf course just north of Stratford.
The DT Killer began his crime spree two years ago, murdering his first victim, Phillipa Brockfield, age 21, on February 8, 2012. Ten months later, the body of Melissa Denny, 24, was found after a week of extensive police searches. She went missing on December 11 and forensic experts believe she was killed that same night. On August 17, 2013, Bethany Ingham, age 26, became the third victim of the DT Killer. Now, more than five months later, after much media speculation, police have confirmed that the serial killer has struck again.
The DT Killer—short for the Duct Tape Killer—is so called because of his distinctive MO: he not only binds the wrists and ankles of his victims in duct tape to restrain them, but their faces too. Each woman was found with her head fully wrapped in standard gray duct tape, covering her eyes and mouth, “almost like a mummy,” commented one police officer who wished to remain anonymous. The duct tape itself is not the murder weapon in these horrific crimes; in fact, it appears the DT Killer intentionally leaves the nostrils of his victims free so they do not suffocate that way. The cause of death in each case has been strangulation by ligature, and police theorize that the killer leaves his victims bound in the duct tape for a while before killing them, and then dumps their bodies in a different location.
There have been no arrests in the case, and with the DT Killer still at large, police are scrambling in their efforts to identify him before he kills again.
“This is an incredibly dangerous man,” said Lieutenant David Nolan, Detective Division Commander of the Bridgeport Police Department, speaking outside the station today. “Four young women have very sadly lost their lives, and it’s clear this individual poses a significant risk to the general public. We are doubling our efforts to identify this offender—known as the DT Killer—and we have today released a composite sketch from a potential witness at the scene where Julia’s body was found. We urge the public to please contact the police on the case hotline if you recognize the man in the sketch.”
Police release composite sketch of the DT Killer
In addition to the sketch, police today have also released a list of personal items that were missing from the victims, items they had on them at the time of abduction, as identified by their families. Police believe the killer took these items as trophies for each murder, and that they are very likely still in his possession. “Trophy-taking is common among serial killers like this,” commented Lieutenant Nolan. “The trophies allow the killer to relive the thrill of the crime and to sustain his dark urges, lengthening the time before he feels compelled to kill again.” From Phillipa Brockfield, the killer took a necklace, which police describe as “a gold chain with an antique coin-style pendant.” It was a “lilac or light-purple paddle-shaped hairbrush” from Melissa Denny, which she carried everywhere in her purse. A “gold stainless-steel Casio watch” from Bethany Ingham, and now, from Julia Hunter, a “pair of rose-gold earrings with light-green stones.” Police are asking the public to keep an eye out for these items.
Newsday spoke with Adrienne Castro, a criminal profiler who used to work with the FBI and today consults on popular true crime show Forensic Time. Ms. Castro gave us her expert opinion on the DT Killer, based on all the information police have released so far:
“As ever, profiling is not an exact science, but I think we can draw some tentative conclusions from this criminal’s behavior and his choice of victim. This is a white man who could be anywhere between his early twenties to his mid-forties. These aren’t compulsive acts: these murders are planned and methodical, and our killer likely has an average to high IQ. This man would seem to be perfectly normal, unremarkable—charming, even. He outwardly appears to be an upstanding member of society, with a good job where he’s used to a level of control, maybe a management position. I think it’s very likely he has a partner or a wife, and potentially even a family too, who have no idea about his secret life.
“There is an interesting observation to make about his spatial behavior too. In serial killers, we find that an offender will have a natural aversion to committing crimes too close to home, their buffer zone. And yet, conversely, they also have a comfort zone: a nearby area they know very well that isn’t too close to home and where they feel secure committing these acts. We refer to this as the Distance Decay Theory. It’s interesting to note that these victims were all from different towns and cities in Fairfield County, and their bodies too were all spread out in different locations in the comfort-zone area. This leads me to believe that our killer lives in a different nearby location, one that hasn’t yet come up in the investigation, his untouched buffer zone.
“As to his motive, I think what we have here is something that underpins a lot of serial killings: misogyny, essentially. This man has very strong feelings about women—he hates them. These victims are all attractive, educated, intelligent young women, and there is something there that this killer finds utterly intolerable. He sees these killings as his own personal mission. I find the wrapping of their heads in tape particularly interesting, like he is denying them even their own faces, cutting off their ability to speak or see before he kills them. These killings come down to power and humiliation, and the sadistic pleasure the offender takes from that. It’s likely the signs were there from a young age, and he started out by harming family pets as a boy. I would not be surprised if, somewhere in his possession, he keeps a manifesto with all his thoughts about women and how they should look or behave in order to be acceptable.
“The police have not released any information about whether he stalks his victims beforehand, but I would say, given how meticulous the victim selection appears to be, that there is a degree of surveillance before he abducts them. I think that’s part of the thrill for him. He may even make direct contact with them, and it’s possible the killer has had intimate relationships with these victims.”
Outside Julia Hunter’s family home this evening, her eighteen-year-old sister, Harriet, stopped briefly to speak to reporters. When asked about the possibility of Julia being stalked before her death, a tearful Harriet had this to say: “I’m not sure. She never told me she was scared or anything. I would’ve helped her if she had. But she did mention a few weird things in the couple of weeks before. She talked about seeing some lines, chalk lines, I think, that looked like three stick figures, near the house. I never saw them and it was probably just our neighbor’s kids. Also, a couple of dead birds—pigeons—had been brought into the house through the cat flap. But Julia thought that was strange because our cat is very old now and hardly goes outside. She also mentioned getting a few prank calls
. That was in the week before she went missing, but she didn’t seem frightened by them. If anything, she found them annoying. But […] looking back on those few weeks before, everything seems weird to me now, now that she’s gone.”
A memorial service for Julia Hunter will be held on February 21 at her local church.
Ravi must have reached the end first, a sharp intake of breath right by her ear, like a windstorm trapped inside her head. Pip held up one finger to put him on pause until she was done, reached the very last word.
And then: “Oh,” she said.
Ravi jerked away from her, standing up to his full height. “Oh?” he said, voice higher and scratchier than it should be. “Is that all you have to say about that? Oh?”
“What are you…” She spun her chair to watch him. His hands were dancing nervously, tucked under his chin. “What are you freaking out about?”
“What are you not freaking out about?” He tried not to raise his voice, but he should have tried harder. “A serial killer, Pip.”
“Ravi.” His name broke apart in her mouth, into a small laugh. His eyes flashed angrily at her. “This is from six and a half years ago. The DT Killer confessed. I’m pretty sure he pleaded guilty in court too. He’s been in prison all this time, and there were no more murders after his arrest. The DT Killer is gone.”
“Yeah, well, what about the dead pigeons?” Ravi said, his arm in a straight and quivering line, pointing back to the screen. “And the chalk lines, Pip? Those two exact things in the weeks before he killed Julia.” Ravi dropped to his knees in front of her, holding one hand up to her face, thumb and little finger folded down. “Three,” he hissed, bringing his three raised fingers even closer. “Three chalk stick figures. Julia was the fourth victim, Pip. Three before her. And now there have been five women killed, and there are five little stick figures outside your house right fucking now.”
“Look, calm down,” she said, taking his raised hand, tucking it between her knees to hold it still. “I’ve never heard of those things Julia Hunter’s sister said there, not in any articles or podcasts. Maybe the police decided they weren’t relevant in the end.”
“But they are relevant to you.”
“I know, I know, I’m not saying that.” She locked onto his eyes, tilted her chin. “Obviously there’s a connection, between what Harriet Hunter said and what’s happening to me. Well, I haven’t had any mysterious phone calls—”
“Yet.” Ravi cut across her, his hand trying to escape.
“But the DT Killer is in prison. Look.” She released his hand, and turned back to the laptop, typing DT Killer into a new search page and pressing enter.
“Ah, Billy Karras, yes, that’s his name,” she said, scrolling down the page of results to show Ravi. “See. Age thirty when he was arrested. He confessed in a police interview and—see—yep, he also pleaded guilty to all five murders. No need for a trial. He’s in prison and will be for the rest of his life.”
“Doesn’t really look like the police sketch,” Ravi sniffed, his hand finding its own way back between her knees.
“Well, kind of.” She squinted at Billy Karras’s mug shot. Greasy dark-brown hair pushed back from his forehead, green eyes that almost jumped right out of his face, startled by the camera. “No one ever really does, anyway.”
That seemed to help Ravi a little, putting a face to the name, the proof unrolling before his eyes as Pip clicked onto the second page of results.
She stopped, scrolled back up. Something had caught her eye. A number. A month.
“What?” Ravi asked her, a tremor in his hand that passed through to her.
“Oh, it’s nothing,” she said, shaking her head so he knew she meant it. “Nothing really. Just…I never realized before. The final victim of the DT Killer, Tara Yates, she was killed on April eighteenth, 2014.”
He looked at her, the same glint of recognition in his eyes, mirroring back her own. She watched herself, the warped version of her trapped in the darks of his eyes. Well, one of them had to say it out loud.
“The same night Andie Bell died,” she said.
“That is weird,” he said. He dropped his gaze and the Pip that lived in them slipped away. “This is all weird, all of it. OK, he’s in prison, but so why is someone doing the exact same to you as happened to Julia Hunter before she died? To all of the victims, potentially. And don’t tell me it’s a coincidence, because that’s a lie: you don’t believe in coincidences.”
He had her there.
“No, I know. I don’t know.” She stopped to laugh at herself, unsure why she had—it didn’t belong here. “Obviously that can’t be a coincidence. Maybe someone wants me to think I’m being stalked by the DT Killer.”
“Why would someone want that?”
“Ravi, I don’t know.” She felt defensive all of a sudden, hot, the fence going up again, but this time to keep Ravi out. “Maybe someone wants to drive me crazy. Push me over the edge.”
They wouldn’t have to push very hard at all. She’d walked herself right up to the edge, toes hanging over the drop. One sharp breath to the back of her neck would probably do it. Just one question between her and that long fall down: Who will look for you when you’re the one who disappears?
“And no one has been killed since this Billy guy was arrested?” Ravi double-checked.
“No,” Pip said. “And it’s a very distinctive MO, the duct tape around the face.”
“Move over a sec,” Ravi said, rolling her chair away from the desk, her hands falling from the laptop.
“Hey.”
“I’m just seeing something,” he said, kneeling in front of the screen. He flicked to the top of the page, deleted the current search items and typed in: Billy Karras innocent?
Pip sighed, watching him scroll quickly through the results. “Ravi. He confessed and he pleaded guilty. The DT Killer is behind bars, not outside my house.”
There was a crackling sound in Ravi’s throat, somewhere between a gasp and a cough. “There’s a Facebook page,” he said.
“For what?” Pip dug in her heels to scoot the chair back.
“A page called Billy Karras Is Innocent.” He clicked on it, and Billy Karras’s mug shot filled the screen as the banner image. His face looked softer the second time, somehow. Younger.
“Well, of course there is,” Pip said, pulling up at Ravi’s side. “I bet there’s a Facebook page proclaiming the innocence of every single serial killer. I’d bet there’s even one for Ted Bundy.”
Ravi hovered the arrow above the about tab, pressed his thumb into the trackpad to bring it up. “Oh shit,” he said, scanning the page. “It’s run by his mom. Look. Maria Karras.”
“Poor woman,” Pip said quietly. “Of course she thinks her own kid is innocent.”
“ ‘On May 16, 2014, after sitting in a police interview room for nine hours without a break, my son gave a false confession to crimes he did not commit, a confession coerced by intense—and illegal—police interrogation tactics,’ ” Ravi read from the screen. “ ‘He immediately recanted the next morning, after some sleep, but it was already too late. The police had what they needed.’ ”
“A false confession?” Pip said, looking into Billy Karras’s eyes as though the question were for him. No, it couldn’t be. Those were the eyes of the DT Killer staring back at her…they had to be. Otherwise—
“ ‘Serious systemic failings in our criminal justice system…’ ” Ravi started skipping, into the next paragraph. “ ‘Need three thousand signatures on the petition to congresswoman’—oh man, she only has twenty-nine signatures so far—‘trying to bring Billy’s case to the attention of The Innocence Project so we can appeal the conviction…’ ” He stopped. “Oh look, she’s even put her phone number in the contact info section. ‘Please contact me if you have any legal experience or media connections an
d think you can help me with Billy’s case, or would like to help collect signatures. Please note: prank callers will be reported to the police.’ ” He turned from the screen, locked eyes with Pip.
“What?” she said, reading the answer in the downturn of his mouth. “Well, of course she thinks he’s innocent. She’s his mom. That’s not proof.”
“But it’s a question mark,” he said firmly, dragging Pip and the chair closer. “You should call her. Talk to her. See what her reasons are.”
Pip shook her head. “I don’t want to disturb this poor woman. Give her false hope for no reason. She’s clearly been through enough.”
“Yeah.” Ravi ran his hand up her leg. “The very same thing my mom went through, that I went through, when everyone thought Sal killed Andie Bell. And how did that come to an end again?” he said, tapping a finger to his chin while he pretended to grapple for the memory. “Oh yeah, with an unsolicited knock at the door from an overly persistent Pippus Maximus.”
“That was entirely different,” she said, turning away from him, because she knew if she looked at him any longer, he’d convince her to do it. And she couldn’t do it. Could not. Because if she called that poor woman, that would be admitting there was a chance. A possibility. That the wrong man was sitting in prison. And the right man? He was outside her house, drawing headless stick figures of the women he’d already killed, coming for her, beckoning her to join them. Number six. And that would be a game she wasn’t ready for. A stalker was one thing, but this…
“OK, never mind.” Ravi shrugged. “How about we sit here twiddling our thumbs instead, just wait and see how this whole stalker thing pans out? The passive approach. Never thought I’d see you opt for a passive anything, but we’ll just hang tight, kick back. No biggie.”
As Good as Dead Page 11