The Darkness of Evil

by Jacobson, Alan

  “At one of the earlier crime scenes,” Curtis said, “we found a karambit.”

  Tarkoff leaned forward. “A what?”

  “One nasty weapon,” Ramos said. “A guy in my unit in Iraq, he had one. He picked it up in Southeast Asia. Indonesia, I think. Curved blade, looks like an animal’s claw. There are a lot of variations but the more modern ones have double-sided edges and are used for slashing and fighting. The original karambits are small and have a finger ring and extend down from the fist, attached to the pinky. When you punch your enemy, he never sees the blade and you do some serious damage. Like I said, if you know how it to use it, it’s deadly in seconds with a minimum of effort.”

  “So where the hell did Marcks get one of these?” Hurdle asked.

  “You can get ’em anywhere,” Ramos said. “There are several manufacturers that put their own spin on the design. Just about any store or website that sells knives has them now.”

  Morrison leaned back in his chair. “You think Marcks left the karambit behind at that crime scene on purpose?”

  “We didn’t think so,” Curtis said. “It wasn’t anywhere near the body. It was in the grass, about ten yards away, like he dropped it on the way back to his van.”

  “Obviously he replaced it,” Ramos said. “But why’d he choose such an unusual knife in the first place?”

  “We never found out,” Vail said. “We can read into something like this, and we did, but bottom line is it could simply be that a friend told him about it. Or he saw it used in a movie, or whatever, and he thought it’d fit his needs. Might not be any meaning to it at all other than it came across his desk, he tried it, liked the way it felt, and started using it on his vics, got excited by it. Or it related to something done to him as a kid.”

  “What he’s doing with these cuts,” Tarkoff said. “Is it like him leaving his signature on Greeling’s body? Like, claiming it as his kill?”

  Vail bobbed her head. “Kinda. Sorta. But it may not be something he’s aware of to that extent. I mean, he was aware he was doing it, but he may not know why he needs to do it. And I doubt he realizes that it’s helping us connect these murders to him.”

  “Where’s Jasmine Marcks in all of this?”

  “Fortunately, she got away,” Curtis said.

  “When the neighbor found Greeling’s body and screamed,” Vail said, “maybe it scared him off. We won’t know until we can sit down with Jasmine. I’m going to call her on the way home, see if I can set something up for tomorrow.”

  Hurdle set his iPad on the worktable to his right. “Okay, here’s our fugitive playbook. In the Service we call it a quality of life survey. A lot of you are familiar with some of this as your basic criminal history checks. We’ll run his sheet. Sift through any court documents that list addresses, phone numbers, associations. Who posted bail? Social media—Facebook, Instagram, phone records. Who’s he talking to?

  “We’ll assemble a top 10 list. Look at people who visited him at Potter and everyone he had contact with during the last three months before he was arrested.”

  “That’s at least seven years old,” Vail said.

  “Doesn’t matter. Marcks is on the run and he needs help. Shelter, food, money, sleep. And it’s friggin’ cold outside. Unless he goes to people he doesn’t know—which is possible—it’s only logical he’s going to lean on those he does know, or knew. Some of them may owe him a favor, some of them may be afraid of him and help him out because they fear what’ll happen if they don’t. Point is, these are the people we focus on.”

  “We’ve got the names of three guys he’s friends with, according to Jasmine.”

  “That’s a start. Share those names with us. But from this top 10 list we assemble, we’ll branch out and start looking at other people who associate with those people. Where they work, who they’ve had contact with, where they live, previous contacts and correspondences. Interactions they’ve had. So if they’ve been arrested with someone in a car, we want to look at them, too. Sometimes we find relationships we didn’t know existed because these are all people in a loose nexus with the fugitive. Then we look at family members.”

  “What about hangouts?” Walters asked.

  “That’s next,” Tarkoff said. “We’ll look at where Marcks liked to smoke, or drink, or watch a ballgame. Places where he spent his time when he was a free man. Big picture, we’ll be focusing on people, money, and residences.”

  “What about ex-girlfriends?” Vail said.

  Hurdle pointed at her. “Yes. That’s a biggie. A guy who’s been behind bars for seven years wants his pussy. And he wants it sooner rather than later because he doesn’t know which day is gonna be his last.”

  “Ex-friends, too,” Tarkoff said, turning to Vail. “Those names Jasmine gave you will be important. Interviews with these guys sometimes nets us useful information. If Marcks is an asshole who burned bridges and was generally disliked, he won’t have many. That obviously makes our job tougher. But if we’ve got three to start with, that’s something.”

  “They’re not gonna want to rat out a friend,” Vail said, “so it has to be done surreptitiously. I can help design an approach if anyone’s got a lead that’s promising.”

  “Neighbors, too,” Hurdle said. “Some may’ve moved since he was arrested, but it’s worth a shot. Same with social media, as I mentioned before. Normally this can yield us some good intel, but I can’t remember what year Facebook caught on.” Tarkoff looked around. “Anyone know?” There were no takers. “Pretty sure Instagram wasn’t around then. What about WhatsApp? We need to see if he had an account with them. Twitter?”

  “Doesn’t strike me as a Twitter kind of guy,” Vail said. “For that matter, he’s not social to begin with. I’m not sure this is going to get us anything.”

  Hurdle leaned against a closet door to his right. “If it’s a dead end, it won’t be the only one we hit. But we do our job and see what we get.”

  “What about where they spend their money?” Morrison asked.

  “Yes,” Tarkoff said. “And that’s your assignment because that falls under your purview with the Secret Service. Credit card bills, bank accounts. Look for patterns. We may get something from those old spending patterns. Maybe not. But we’re all creatures of habit. He’s a free man again. He may fall back into buying the same things. What he liked before he’ll still like—maybe even crave. Could be the kind of thing he’s been thinking about for months, obsessing over every night before he went to bed. The taste of beer, a movie, a football game. Shit he can’t do in the joint, stuff he figured he’d never get to do again in his life.”

  Hurdle stood up straight. “We also need to look at what resources he has at his disposal. What cash he’s got, in what bank accounts. Jasmine may be able to help with some of that, like maybe she knows what bank he was with. They’ve obviously been dormant, but she may’ve kept the accounts active for him.”

  “Doubt it,” Vail said.

  “Check it out anyway,” Tarkoff said, “in case they’re still open and he tries to get at the cash. Never know what we’ll find. If we filter things out because of our personal biases, we may miss something important.”

  “We’re monitoring the phones that the CO, Sanders, and his partner had, as well as the one that Olifante left the prison with this morning.” Hurdle consulted his iPad and typed something into the onscreen keyboard. “Curtis, I’m making you point on that. Could give us some valuable leads if Marcks took one of their cells when he left that truck. At the moment, I’ve been told all three numbers have been silent, no activity. Powered down—or the battery’s dead. But anyone makes a call on any of those lines, you’ll be notified immediately.”

  “I’ve assembled an Excel sheet with all our phone numbers,” Tarkoff said, turning toward the computer to his right. He slid the keyboard out from beneath the countertop and started hunting and pecking. “Emai
ling it to each of you right now. Import the numbers and emails into your phone contacts.”

  Morrison gestured at Vail. “How about you give us a psychological profile of Marcks.”

  “It’s not really a psychological profile,” Vail said. “But I can give you Agent Underwood’s assessment of the UNSUB they were looking for, what motivated him, elements of his personality that lent itself to serial murder, and so on. Actually, I’ll focus more on what we learned about Roscoe Lee Marcks after he was apprehended because that’s more relevant to what we’re dealing with here. He’s a known quantity, not an unknown subject.

  “I tried interviewing him a number of times over the years but ironically it wasn’t till a couple of days ago that he finally agreed. Probably because he figured it’d be his last chance to talk because he was planning to leave. He was engaging and glib, bright and threatening. Not to state the obvious, but it’s not good news that he’s out in the general populace.”

  “You think he’ll get back into the rhythm of killing again?” Morrison asked. “Aside from the CO and nurse—which were part of his escape.”

  “I wouldn’t exactly call it a rhythm, but I understand what you mean. And yes, he’ll definitely return to his old ways. Count on it. Killing is something these guys enjoy. It fills a need, a hunger that builds over time. He’s had seven years to fantasize about it. Not to mention that psychopaths get bored very easily. Being out in the wild, on the run, most people would be nervous. Not him. He’s excited. It’s one big challenge to him, one he’s sure he’ll win. So there will be more bodies—very soon—unless we can scoop him up.”

  Vail rose and rested her right hand on the chair back. “We’re looking at an offender of greater than average intelligence. Other than his avocation as a serial murderer, he graduated from Indiana University with a degree in public administration. But in his sophomore year he was arrested for assaulting a dorm mate. Beat him pretty good. Kid didn’t press charges and there were mitigating factors because alcohol was involved and a witness said the other guy started it. He eventually recovered fully and no formal charges were brought against Marcks.

  “Until his senior year when he was again arrested, this time for armed robbery of a mini-mart. Problem is, the gun belonged to the store owner. Marcks claimed he was with a friend who was robbing the place and he had no idea what was going down. The owner pulled a .38 Special from the register and his friend punched the guy. The gun flew out of his hand and Marcks picked it up just when the cops showed. There was no video so they only had statements of admission from Marcks and his friend. Marcks dropped the dime on his buddy and a plea deal was reached. Case dragged on until after he graduated, so he got his degree.

  “But he served six months and when he got out he couldn’t land a job, let alone something in his major. No company would have anything to do with him—nor would any municipality. He walked around with a ton of student loans and a big chip on his shoulder. Got into a few bar fights and eventually moved back to Virginia. He found a gig driving a bread truck, which put him on the road at 4:00 AM and at home by 3:00 PM. That later became significant because it gave him a lot of time to troll for his victims.

  “For those of you who don’t remember, he killed a total of fourteen people, eleven women and three men. Back when Underwood developed his assessment, the BAU was still using the terms ‘organized’ and ‘disorganized.’ We’ve moved away from that terminology, but Underwood felt he was a classic organized offender, meaning he was intelligent. Thought out his crimes beforehand. Selected his victims, studied them, watched for lifestyle patterns. Once he spotted a weakness, he chose his spot and snatched them up. He came prepared. No weapons of opportunity. Whatever he needed, he brought with him.

  “He kept his vics under lock and key at an undisclosed location—to this day we’ve never found it—and tortured them. Brought them to the brink of death and revived them before finally murdering them. And then …” She sighed. “Well, the same thing I described before. The sliced lines on the abdomen and the excising of the external genitalia. Male or female, the ritual was the same.” She stopped and glanced around. They were listening intently, waiting for her to continue.

  “How did he subdue them?” Morrison asked. “You said there were three men. Not as easy to control as women.”

  “He used an inhaled anesthetic to incapacitate them. Very effective.” Vail turned back to the others. “The ME was able to determine that the vics were sodomized with smooth objects, probably plastic or glass, neither of which leave behind any kind of telltale signs or residues. But there was trauma to the tissues, as you would expect. Enough to conclude there was some anger behind it.”

  “Do we know why?” Tarkoff asked.

  “I’d planned to ask him but never got the chance.”

  “I thought you met with him,” Walters said. “From what I know of the BSU, wouldn’t that be high up on your list, to understand what motivated him?”

  “I’m in the BAU, and, yes, the BRIU would be interested in that. As would we. But you can’t walk in and sit down across from one of these guys, especially the bright ones, and start asking questions like that without building a rapport—which takes a long time. If you don’t establish some kind of relationship, they’ll either tell you where to go, or they won’t answer the question. Or they’ll give you a bullshit answer. None of those scenarios are worth a roll of pennies.”

  “Is there anything to that? The sodomy? In your experience?”

  “Yeah. I can guess, but I don’t think that’ll do us any good. We’re not at that point where we’ve exhausted everything else and have to resort to educated guesses. There are numerous psychological explanations for sticking an object in a victim’s anus and doing physical damage. The most obvious, which is why I mentioned it, is anger. You want to move farther out on the limb, you can make inferences. Maybe he’s homosexual and isn’t comfortable with his sexuality. Maybe he was sexually assaulted as a young adult by a male power figure. Maybe he was sexually assaulted during his stint in the joint when he was in Indiana. You see what I mean? Not going to help us find him.”

  “I think it could help us,” Hurdle said. “If he’s homosexual, rather than looking at prostitutes or trying to find former girlfriends, we should be looking at gay bars and other hangouts and neighborhoods where gays tend to congregate. I think it makes a huge difference.”

  Fair point. Vail bit the inside of her bottom lip. “I’ll see what I can do. I’ll dig through the file in case there’s something I’m not remembering. I’ll talk with Jasmine, see if she remembers seeing anything when she was a kid.” She pulled out her Samsung to make a note and gestured at Curtis to continue. “Oh—I did notice something I hadn’t seen before. When I interviewed him at Potter, he had what looked like a self-inflicted scar on his left forearm. We’ve learned that self-mutilation is often found in adults who were sexually abused as children. So there’s that.”

  “We had definitive evidence tying him to only two of the murders,” Curtis said. “He pled to those in exchange for avoiding the death penalty. We know he did the others but they’re officially listed as unsolved. We were never able to tie him to them forensically.”

  “And that’s not unusual,” Vail said, looking up from her phone. “Being a smart offender, he’s aware of the basic concepts of forensic evidence. Since we don’t have a crime scene where he did the actual killing, we’re left to examine only the dump sites where he left the bodies. And he knew to cover his tracks. So to speak.”

  “Officially,” Tarkoff said, “those other twelve cases were never closed.”

  “Right.” Curtis raised a hand to fend off a comment from Walters. “But the victims’ families know the deal. They understand. Some accepted it and have closure. Others need all the i’s dotted. I’ve asked my partner, Leslie Johnson, to get in touch with each of them personally to deliver the news of his escape and to assure them we’r
e working to find him. Unfortunately, for them it’s like opening an old wound.”

  Vail holstered her phone. “As I said, Marcks has a relatively high police IQ—he understands why we do what we do, and how we do it, and I’m sure he’s gotten more of an education while at Potter—as well as the max facility at Florence in Colorado where he served out his first three years. So bottom line is we have our work cut out for us. We have a lot of avenues to pursue but I wouldn’t be surprised if we end up with zeroes. We may need to think outside the box on this one.”

  “What did I tell you, Vail?”

  She looked at Hurdle. “That we’ll find him. It’s only a question of when.”

  “Exactly.”

  “What kind of law enforcement support can we expect?” Morrison asked.

  “It’s a matter of managing resources. This isn’t the same as the Clinton escape in upstate New York. They had intel those knuckleheads were going to skip into Canada, so they brought in the National Guard to secure the border and a gazillion cops to search a well-defined area. Here, we’ve got all of Virginia to deal with. Because Vail thinks he’s going after his daughter, he’ll probably stay somewhat close. But he knows that we know that.

  “We’ve got more officers on the streets. But we can’t go hog wild in terms of manpower. We don’t want to blow through budgets with overtime and personnel—unless it’s needed. Bottom line, escalation is based on necessity. Scale personnel to where you think the guy is, mass your assets in that area. If bodies start dropping, we’ll start adding resources, get more aggressive with deployment. If we can be smart about it.”

  “Right now,” Tarkoff said, “we’ve got a tip line set up. NGOs and GOs are involved, providing lookout,” he said, referring to nongovernmental and governmental organizations. “Media blasts are going to start soon. We’ve got checkpoints set up at strategic locations along the Virginia border. Next in line would be highway billboards, but we’re not there yet.”