by Tom Heaven
He finally had to admit that the only thing that connected them was that they were all tourists. Even then, that connection didn’t seem to link them in a meaningful way. At first, he couldn’t even think of a local site or destination that both groups would want to visit while in town.
The girls were on Spring Break from school. The participants at that annual conclave tended to drink too much on the beaches or go to Mexico for cheaper booze and more exciting nightlife.
Older folks were usually in town to attend conferences or to take in the sights such as The San Diego Zoo or Sea World. Then it hit him. They also liked to go across the border to take advantage of the cheaper prices of Mexican souvenirs for the grandkids back home and mementos of their trip for themselves.
Dan’s reasoning suggested that both the Marston’s and the girls might have taken a tour to Mexico. He made a list of all tour providers and called every one of them. Interviews with the bus drivers who took visitors to the local casinos didn’t turn up any leads, and none of the registered cabbies in town recognized either the old couple or the girls. The results were all negative. Craig’s List was also a dead end.
Officers had covered the establishments on both sides of each hotel where the missing co-eds were registered. No one knew or had seen anything.
They contacted the Marston’s children and the parents of the missing girls. As a result, all the relatives were on their way to San Diego. Chief tried to convince them to wait until they had more information but the families weren’t hearing it.
He figured since the victims went missing in one set of two and one group of three, a van might be the vehicle used during the abductions. He called the chief and asked him to have his patrol officers look for vans or limousines with at least three rows of seats, possibly with a sign that advertised tours.
Two days later he got a call from the chief. One of his officers had spotted a red, seven seater van. It had a sign on it that read “Low Cost Tours to Mexico.”
“He got the tag number but lost the van in traffic. When we checked the license, we found out the vehicle belongs to Morris Toyota. Their dealership is here in town, so I have sent two cars over there to check it out.”
“Great chief, let me know what you find.”
Chapter 22
Marty had taken off the signs, washed the van, and was almost back to Morris Toyota when he saw two police cars sitting in the parking lot. The manager was standing outside the showroom talking to two cops.
His hands suddenly felt clammy, and he could feel acid rising in his throat. He didn’t know if they saw him or not, but he wasn’t going to stick around to find out. He made a quick turn into a side street and sped away.
Barry was supposed to be waiting for him at the Happy Hour Bar, but Marty wasn’t going to waste time warning him. He was headed home to pack and was bugging out as quickly as he could.
***
Andrea and Andy had just finished dinner. She was cleaning up the kitchen while he played with his Legos in front of the TV. Suddenly the front door slammed open, and Marty rushed in, in a foul mood.
“Get the hell out of my way kid,” he yelled. He took a step toward the bedroom and slipped on one of the Lego pieces. He said, “Oomph!” as he fell back on his ass on the castle that Andy had been building.
Andy started wailing while Marty began yelling obscenities. When he stood up, he leaned over and slapped the boy across the face. Andrea dropped the dish she was washing and ran to rescue her son. Between Marty’s cussing and Andy’s screaming, the sound of the plate shattering could not be heard.
“Don’t you touch him!”
Andrea scooped Andy up from the floor and ran into his bedroom. She sat him down on the bed, locked the door and came back to hold him. “That’s alright baby; mommy’s got you now. He’s never going to touch you again. I promise! Now you be a real big boy and sit here quietly for just a minute. I am going out to talk to daddy, but I will be right back. You can lock the door behind me alright?”
Mommy left for just a couple minutes, then she was back, knocking on the door and telling him to let her in. She sat next to him on the bed, put him on her lap and began rocking back and forth, back and forth…
The sound of sirens interrupted the rocking. Andy was asleep, so she laid him down and went into the living room to greet the police.
“Hello ma’am, I am Detective Rawlings, and this is Detective Hamilton. We are from SDPD. Are you the lady that called?”
“Yes, I am. My husband is in here.”
Andrea led Frank and Jerry to the back bedroom. Frank walked over to Marty’s body on the floor and felt for a pulse on the side of his neck that didn’t have a steak knife protruding from it. He turned to Jerry and said, “Call the morgue, then call the chief. Let him know we have a homicide here.”
Frank stepped back from the body and looked around the room. It was very tidy with everything in place except for the clothes scattered in disarray on the bed next to an opened suitcase. Andrea said, “If I had known he was leaving, I wouldn’t have bothered.”
“Was he a violent man, ma’am?”
“Yes.”
Frank rolled Marty’s body over and slid him so that his neck was still over the blood pool on the carpet. He looked at Jerry who nodded.
“Well, it looks like, from, the position of the body, that he was attacking you. I’m guessing that you were washing the dishes when he called to you. It is a good thing that you happened to have that knife in your hand when you came to see what he wanted. If you are sure, that’s the way you remember what went down here.”
“Thank you.”
While interviewing Andrea back at the station, Frank got the name of the bar where Marty hung out. After talking to a few patrons, he eventually found Barry and arrested him. As part of a plea deal, Barry gave up the cabin and grave sites. The best deal he could get was life without the possibility of parole.
***
The day they wrapped up the case, the chief called Dan to thank him. You sure earned your consultation fee in this case, Buddy. This was one of those that could easily have ended up in the cold case file.”
“No problem chief, just keep sending them my way.”
Dan’s satisfaction with having helped the team successfully close another case was overshadowed by a letter he had received that morning. The postmark showed it had been mailed in Tennessee two days ago. It had been addressed by hand in a meticulous script, although the letter itself was typed.
Dear Dan,
Although it has been a while since we last spoke, I trust you have not forgotten my promise to come back and visit. You may not know this about me, but I always keep my promises.
Between my other jobs, I have been doing a lot of thinking about which of your associates will be the first to pay for your interference in my business. I have been having a bit of difficulty with this endeavor as I cannot decide whether I should start with whoever you hold dearest or the person you would miss the least, then work my way up. I still haven’t decided, but you will know after I kill the first one.
At the moment, I’m afraid I can’t tell you when that will occur. I am between assignments right now but may just rest a bit here in redneck land before my next job, or use this hiatus to pay your lovely city a visit. Once again, I guess you will just have to wait and see.
Regards,
W.S.
Case III – The Atlas Killer
Chapter 23
While waiting in the alley, his thoughts returned to his first kill…
Having her suspended from the ceiling with a chain and handcuffs, she was unable to prevent the inevitable. He held the sharp boning knife to the back of her neck and pictured the spinal anatomy, so he could slide the blade between the first cervical vertebrae, known as the axis, and below the base of the skull. Severing the spinal cord at this point, would ca
use all vital functions to cease. Her heart would stop beating. She would not take another breath and all her muscles would become limp.
After savoring her total surrender for a moment longer, he pushed the knife blade into the target area. Her body went completely limp in the chains. He suddenly felt the most exquisite sensation of pleasure he had ever experienced. It was the culminations of all these sensations that led him to repeat the whole procedure again and again.
His aunt told him to dispose of the bodies in a public place in the middle of the night. She told him that he would re-experience those pleasurable sensations somewhat when he read about his handiwork in the papers.
Just then, he heard the bum across the street grunt as he rolled over on the sidewalk. The ensuing snores convinced the killer he was the only one awake on the street and it was safe to continue with tonight’s hunt.
He had seen her walk past when he was taking the last one out to dispose of. After studying her for two weeks, he knew; she had few friends, she worked at the North Park Library just five blocks from her house, and, her walk home after work took her past his darkened driveway which was perfect for his plan.
The driveway was in an alley which led to the entrance of the old, family owned warehouse his aunt had told him about. Inside, he had lined the walls with sound absorption panels and installed a hook on a pulley attached to the ceiling rafters by chains. There was a mattress with restraints on the floor under the hook. It had been the perfect kill room.
He had stood in the shadow in the alley for the past four nights, watching her walk by. Each time, there was someone on the sidewalk behind her, or a car approaching on the street, causing him to abort his planned attack.
Tonight, however, the street was empty, and, other than the sleeping bum on the opposite sidewalk, only her shadowy profile, and distinctive walk could be seen.
He held the syringe with its paralytic/sedative cocktail in his left hand while he prepared to grab her from behind with his right, cover her mouth and muffle her screaming,
He felt absolutely giddy with anticipation as he imagined what it was going to feel like to have her completely under his control, suspended on the hook, waiting for her in the building behind him. Although he had done it several times before, the thrill of the capture and, eventually, the kill, never got old. As he waited for her, he was not oblivious to the erection that always accompanied this experience.
Chapter 24
Dan sat in his spacious study. The Assassin’s bullet had led to his choice of location for this room. It was in the center of the house and had no windows. Benji had set up this space for him to use for his consultation work. He sat in his Lazy-Boy was across the room from a sixty-inch monitor mounted on the wall. On an end table, beside Dan’s recliner, was a call button, a printer, and a keyboard wirelessly connected to his computer. On the other side was a portable file cabinet.
A soft glow, of seemingly natural light, emanated from ceiling panels. This was augmented by strategically placed spotlights. One of these was aimed over Dan’s shoulder so he could read case files.
He had a three-ring binder in his lap with the photographs of four women, along with a case file for each. There were at least five more young women reported missing before these four began showing up in public. None of them had been found.
Dan started his process of studying the picture and records of the first victim, Denise Harrelson. She was twenty-six years old, with auburn hair, blue eyes, and a lovely smile. A week before her mother reported her missing, Denise told a friend about a man with blond hair and sunglasses who seemed to be following her. She thought she was being paranoid, so she didn’t report it to the police. The stranger seemed to be staring at her while she was shopping at the mall, then she saw him again while leaving work on two separate occasions. Without more information, the investigating detectives were not able to do more than ask her neighbors if they noticed anyone matching his description in the neighborhood. Unfortunately, no one had. Interviews with co-workers and other friends did not turn up any additional leads.
Denise’s parents said that she was still living at home until her disappearance, and that she had always been a happy girl.
Six days before her naked body turned up in Sea World’s parking lot, she went dancing at a club with a friend from work. Denise parked behind the club, and her friend parked in front. The last time her friend saw her alive was when they split up to go home.
Her boyfriend, Larry Atwater, was cleared of any involvement due to an airtight alibi. He was on a business trip to Phoenix during the time she disappeared. His employer verified his absence. Friends reported that he and Denise fought occasionally, but there were no known physical altercations between them. There were no other “persons of interest” identified in the file.
All the victims lived and worked in various parts of town, and no connection between them could be established. The killer kept them alive, abusing them for four five days before killing them. They were all in their mid-twenties and beautiful enough to have been models. Instead, they became temporary residents of the San Diego morgue due to stab wounds in the back of the neck.
Other than the occasional mole or tattoo, all the autopsy reports were pretty much the same as Denise’s. Their deaths were all caused by a surgical incision across the spinal cord, between the first vertebra, called the Atlas, and the posterior ridge of the skull. Their backs and the back of their legs had been grievously bruised by what appeared to be a leather strap. There was evidence of sexual intercourse prior to death, but the killer’s DNA could not be matched in any database. All of the victims had a needle puncture wound on one side of their neck and sufficient levels of paralytic and sedative drugs in their blood to knock them out immediately.
The SDPD detectives investigated this case for six months without resolution. They logged in a significant amount of overtime and burned a lot of shoe leather following up leads and questioning anyone who knew the victims in any capacity. Dan could feel their frustration as he reviewed the files. He knew they were doing everything they could to figure out who this creep was.
As he was reviewing the files and thinking about all the work his ex-team mates had put in on this case, Dan realized that he needed to get back to work full time. Nothing could ever replace his passion for solving homicides. If he needed to do it in a wheelchair, so be it.
By the time he had finished reviewing all the files and had made some notes, Dan was feeling tired. He pressed the call button on the end table and two minutes later, Benji entered with his wheelchair.
Chapter 25
She was still asleep. He lifted her chin with one finger and looked at her face. Another beautiful prize to beg for release. Release from the hook, release from pain, release from life itself. If she lasted five days like the others had, he only had four days to use her for his pleasure and he didn’t plan on wasting a minute of it. He placed a bucket next to her mattress, so she could relieve herself. He also left a bottle of water and some bread for when she woke up. He made sure there was enough slack in her chains to be able to reach these things without hurting herself.
While driving to work, he fantasized about this evening when he would begin making her strong. Ben Kellog wondered what made him crave what he was doing. It hadn’t been bad parenting. He was sure of that. His father had been an excellent role model while he was growing up. A firm disciplinarian, making sure the boy learned the correct procedure for everything he would need to grow up resilient and always in control. His dad never used anything to administer discipline that might leave a mark. His mother insisted on that. They didn’t want child services interfering with his upbringing. They would have spoiled him by being too soft.
No, it must have been Aunt Jane. While his folks were gone on business trips, she took care of him and didn’t worry about leaving marks. She used a leather strap that left bruises but made sure she left time for them
to heal before his parents were due to return. After the abuse was over, Aunt Jane always explained that the whippings were “because she loved him and wanted him to grow up to be a real man.”
From the time of his earliest memories of not being able to get along with the other kids in kindergarten, he never had any friends his own age. He was home schooled and home confined. The only thing about his childhood that really stood out for him was trying to remember the rules at home, and how they were different than the rules when he stayed with his aunt, Jane. At home, he had to be very quiet all the time. He had to use “proper” table manners while eating. He could expect to be severely disciplined for even minor infractions. He had spent many hours in total darkness in the hall closet, most of them due to talking too loud or yelling at his imaginary friends.
At Aunt Jane’s however, he could pretty much do whatever he wanted without fear of punishment. Instead, she would whip him for apparently no reason other than to make him stronger and prove her love for him. These beatings always occurred at bedtime, after which she would take him to her bed where she would cuddle with him and sooth his sore back.
At twelve years old, when his parents mysteriously disappeared, he went to live with his aunt permanently. Since then, they slept together every night. Jane showed him how to connect himself to her when they cuddled. She also showed him that, if he moved his bottom just right and long enough, while they were connected, it caused a magic feeling to happen for both of them.
As time went on, Jane became too old and sick to cuddle in that way anymore.
“Ben, do you miss not being able to cuddle?”
“Yes, especially the magic feeling. I can use my hand to get that, like you showed me, but it was so much better when we were able to do it together.”
Jane called him close to her bed, motioned for him to lean down next to her face and in a weak voice said,