Of Truth and Lies: Hollingsworth Copycat Killer (Virgil McLendon Thrillers Book 5)

by catt dahman

  “Keep going.”

  “The severed toe was shocking, as was all the blood. It might have been for sheer horror, but it must have had some meaning as did the paper towels. They were there as a laugh at the detectives. The glasses of water…one said you were relaxed and in no hurry and were taking your time. The second was the same except that you were finished with the scene.”

  “The newspapers ran the story of the murders on front page for days, and as the investigation went on, the story became front and second page news for weeks. They claimed it was a sexual attack….” Hollingsworth offered.

  “No signs of sexual motive,” Tina said, “that’s unfounded.”

  “True. They said the glasses mean “half empty and half full.”

  “That’s reaching. There is no indication of a message. The motive is control-based. The signature may be too early to call but is in all the blood and shock value. You were gratified with the work. You controlled Gloria Green and set her up as your special tableaux.”

  “Deputy Rant, I daresay you are clever. The police didn’t get that at all. After suggesting it was a sex crime, they then claimed, despite it being a break in, that it was surely someone the family knew, maybe a relative.”

  Tina shrugged, “No indication. And the toe was removed after death, so there was no torture involved. That eliminates certain people. A family member just doesn’t fit, no passion or disorganization.”

  “How clinical you are? You’re not showing a bit of horror.”

  Tina looked at the doctor and barely blinked. Had she been on the scene and caught the doctor, she would hoped that he would try something so she could shoot him. She felt horror, but she was doing her job.

  “The papers reported that maybe Trevor Green hired someone who double crossed him, but that went nowhere. The investigation slowed to a crawl because with no prints and no clues, they were stumped. But was there a profile evident?” Hollingsworth taunted them.

  “Physically fit, under fifty. Not a sexual offender. The organization told me that the perp was highly intelligent and relaxed, and somehow knew what to expect as far as there being no dog and knowing the number of children who were there. That implied a planned attack, but no weapon or tools were brought except something to pick the lock. Again, I take the atmosphere as a relaxed state. Few people are that calm and ready to poke fun at the police while still being organized and intelligent, so I would look at people related to the medical area or law field, anyone who is calm and cool around extreme carnage,” Virgil said, weighing his words carefully. “It didn’t look like a first crime.”

  “Ahhh. It didn’t, huh?”

  “Not at all, Doctor.”

  “That’s fantastic, Sheriff McLendon. I am not a bit disappointed with your abilities. You do have the advantage of knowing it was my crime, though. Deputy Rant, do you see any other signatures?”

  “Not yet. I could write one in, but other than the extreme bloodshed, I wouldn’t make guesses that might blindside me. I suspect you have a few secrets.”

  Hollingsworth clapped in a condescending manner, but his eyes glittered brightly as he grinned, “Now, you have the start of my experiment. Excellent work. I am so impressed with both of you. Whether you realize it or not, I have given you many clues to many crimes while we visited.”

  “But the Copycat presented three different crimes, all mimicking yours….” Virgil stopped talking. His jaw dropped. He looked into his folder suddenly, running over the information rapidly. They glanced at it only once before, but Virgil knew something was different. He got to his feet and asked Tina to follow him as he pulled back their chairs away from the bars of the cell and hurried down the hall. Hollingsworth looked satisfied with himself.

  “What’s wrong?” Tina asked.

  “They’ve missed a crime scene…the first one…they missed it.”

  Hollingsworth chuckled. That fast, the chase was on, and he shivered with delight.

  Chapter Five: Crimes and Times

  “Sheriff Kirby, I need to sit down with you. I’ve always had this theory that I should start with a clean slate so I’m not influenced, but Dr. Hollingsworth just made me a fool with that.”

  “I can’t say I’m surprised since I said the man was brilliant, but your panic worries me.”

  “It worries me, too.”

  Tina spread the files out and sat with her pad of paper, “What did you find ten days ago? And how did you find it?” she asked Sheriff Kirby.

  Jeb heaved his bulk into his chair and drank from his glass that he always carried around, swirling the ice cubes as he thought. “Had a call from Jane Jordan that her sister, Nancy, hadn’t shown up to her part-time work down to the Five and Dime that the girls own. Nancy didn’t answer her phone, and Jane said she went by and knocked, but no one answered. I went out to the house and met Jane, and we walked around, lookin’ in the windows.”

  Most of the drapes were drawn, like they would be at night, but there was a slight gap in one kitchen window’s covering, and Reb Kirby saw someone lying in the kitchen on the floor. He felt a faint itch on the back of his neck and had a bad feeling. After calling for two deputies, he asked Jane Jordan to sit with neighbors who were already rubber-necking to see what was happening. He could smell death coming from the house; there was no mistaking the scent.

  The back door was unlocked, and Sheriff Kirby noted the lock was picked.

  “I found Jake Beck there in the kitchen, dressed in pajamas that were once white but were now soaked in red gore; I never saw so much blood. He was stabbed in his chest and his privates, had deep slashes in his arms and hands like defense wounds, but lay on his side as if he were trying to get away. There were only hand marks on the floor and a trail of blood because Jake Beck couldn’t get all the way to his hands and knees. The killer had pounded some big nails through the tops of Beck’s feet into the wooden floorboards, so Beck tore his feet up trying to turn over.”

  “Nailed before or after other wounds?”

  “Before. I figure the killer used it to make him comply, saying he would kill the family if Jake didn’t go along with it, and Jake didn’t know they were already dead. That’s how I figure it happened; I guess ‘cause he wasn’t the type to just take that abuse for nothing. Finding him in the kitchen was the same as Hollingsworth’s crime of their finding the father in the kitchen with one hand nailed down after death. It was over-kill. It was a joke made at human expense.”

  “Did you think of Dr. Hollingsworth when you saw the nails?”

  “He crossed my mind. Murders of that magnitude don’t occur often, not whole families, and when we knew all of them were dead and I saw the nails, the scene reminded me of Hollingsworth. It was just too shocking not to think of the other case.”

  “What else lined it up as Copy Cat?”

  “The kitchen was staged. There was blood everywhere, way too much and covered everything. It was unusual to see that must blood without a big fight. It was as if the killer splashed it all over for effect.”

  “Like Hollingsworth did? He liked blood.”

  “Yep. What I found was that the killer came in and went right to the youngest child’s room, Joanna, age two and a half. She had dirtied her diaper, and the killer used feces to cover the bathroom. He had strewn a new package of toilet paper all over the bathroom as well, almost decorating it.”

  “That’s a lot of wasted time, isn’t it?”

  “I think so, Deputy Rant. He felt at ease with the time, I think. Because the soiled diaper was carried and left in the next child’s room, we think that was the second stop.”

  Eric was four, and Mika was seven, and they shared a room with twin beds. The killer slashed Eric’s throat, using enough force to almost decapitate the poor kid. God, but he was a cute kid, always smiling, and I saw him at church a lot.”

  “Done quietly?”

  “Evidently, and this is strange, but you usually see a large amount of blood and deep wounds when there is emotion involved,
like a jealous lover or an angry husband, that sort of stuff. But here, the wounds were deep, there was blood everywhere, and yet, it seemed very false, as if there were no passion and rage at all. It was very uniform. I had a hinky feeling for sure. I knew something was wrong as soon as I saw it; it felt as if I were being watched and laughed at even though that sounded silly.”

  “Most lawmen would miss the fact that there was no emotion, Sheriff Kirby. That’s helpful. You went with your gut feeling.”

  “Thank you, Deputy. I know the order because the killer took the little boy as he was bleeding out, dragged him over to the other bed, and laid him across the foot of the bed before he did the rest. He cut Mika’s throat. There was a little struggle, and the killer stabbed the boy in his chest several times. Thirty times, actually. Mainly post mortem.”

  “Over kill,” Tina said, “did Hollingsworth do that?”

  “Dragged a little girl to the bed when she was dead and stabbed her sister twenty-five times, close enough. It was staged, very much like the Hollingsworth’s case. I felt as if I were viewing that older case and that I had been transported back and made to see those old scenes. It took a lot of energy to stab that many times.”

  “You seem to have immediately thought of the old case. Sheriff Kirby, I have no doubt that you were a little scared, very shocked, mighty disgusted, and heartsick, and yet, you still were thinking logically, taking it in. You saw it was staged: blood was all over, you had the order of the deaths, noted details, and yet….” Virgil leaned forwards, “you immediately thought of Hollingsworth enough that you just said you felt transported to that time and place. Had you seen Hollingsworth’s crime scenes?”

  “No, I read about them and heard tales,” said Kirby as he cocked his head, wondering what Virgil was thinking.

  “The scene was so perfectly staged that it was exactly like Hollingsworth’s, a lawman, speaking directly to you.”

  “Exactly,” Tina agreed.

  “I see what you mean. Yes, it was like that.”

  “I’m sorry. Please continue.”

  “Somehow, the mother, Nancy Jordan Beck, was forced to get out of bed silently, or maybe she got up to check the kids; we aren’t sure. Her head was slammed into the wall a few times, enough to make her almost unconscious, dented the wall and left some blood, and then her throat was cut. She was left half-in, half-out of the bathroom, so she presumably saw all the blood and nasty work in there. I can’t imagine what she was thinking.”

  “Was she stabbed?”

  “No, Hollingsworth didn’t stab that female victim and just left her half in a room. Hollingsworth used trash from wastebaskets to cover the bathroom when he killed this family. My deputies were all sick by that time because we rarely see this type thing. You know how that is.”

  Virgil nodded. His first murder case dropped in his lap when he had no more experience than arresting drunks or breaking up fights at football games. “The killer got Jake into the kitchen and tortured him, but right off, we saw it wasn’t about a lot of things. Sex wasn’t a motive ‘cause none of them were touched.”

  “But Jake Beck had mutilated genitals?” Tina asked.

  “Yes, but it wasn’t a slow, torturous approach. Like Hollingsworth’s, the scene was more about shock and a show of blood. The doctor stabbed his male victim a few times in the genital region as well. That house was covered in blood as if a damned war had been fought, and in all the victims, the blood splatter and pooling could have been minimalized, but instead, the blood was used to cover everything and convolute the scene. In each room, the victim could have been left alone, but there was time taken to kill each and to make the scenes frightening to see.”

  “No sexual signs. What is your take on the feces? Fetish?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine. Hollingsworth claimed his show of the trash was to indicate that the family was trash and unworthy of attention. I never fully bought that. To me, that seemed to be for shock value, as well. It was the child’s waste that he found there but didn’t take it.”

  Virgil nodded. “A little would have sufficed, and you say it was carnage.” He looked in the folder of the crime photos, turning them at all angles, showing Tina. Once in a while, he pointed to specific places. It was so randomized, so over-the-top, that it said a lot about the mental state of the killer. “Knife was from the house?”

  “Yes, nothing was brought in. Just like damned Hollingsworth and his methods.”

  “So the feces was like the trash, but toilet paper was everywhere. That took time to unravel, and he could have been caught. It was important. Clean it up? Is that the message?”

  Tina frowned, “No. The media knew there was trash. The Copycat could have used trash, but he didn’t. He used the dirty diaper. This isn’t about the feces but about diapers and toilet paper. Consumables. Let’s show mother the great big mess we left and how diapers and toilet paper didn’t help.”

  Virgil looked at Tina curiously.

  She laughed, “Sorry, but I was thinking of how Janice changed the baby and then said, ‘Joey, look at the big poopie we have’ like that. Hey, it’s your family, Virgil. But it was how they did as if it were a family event. It was shown off.” She blushed as the men stared at her. “Ignore me. I feel stupid now.”

  Reb Kirby rubbed his jaw, “Miss Tina, you may have gotten that faster than we did. The killer was telling Hollingsworth that he put on a bigger show. He may be copy-catting, but he’s also trying to outdo his hero.”

  “You think?” Tina asked.

  “Hollingsworth nailed his male victim’s hand to the floor. This is a far bigger show. They are similar in order of events and choices of families, picking locks, using knives from the houses, and scattering all that blood as a signature. Each also inserted other elements to form bigger pictures.”

  “What is all this? Food?” Virgil asked. He squinted at pictures.

  “Yes, the killer raked out the contents of the refrigerator,” Reb Kirby said as he shuddered. “The smell was unreal in that house. Poor Jane Jordan ran to the house and got within ten feet of the open, back door when my deputy caught her. She could smell the rot and mess of the place and the bodies going into decomp.... God A’mighty but that was a bad smell. Bottle flies on the floor tracking around and buzzing….” He shivered.

  “It’s hard, I know. Jane Jordan knew when she smelled the house, didn’t she?” Tina asked.

  “Oh, Lordy, she broke down and went to the ground right then, screaming and crying,” Jeb said. “I thought she was about to have a stroke, and so I sent her to the hospital in an ambulance. The nurse sedated her. I never want to see someone find out the truth in that way again.”

  “I understand that.”

  “Sometimes a case comes up and a person wants to run away and not handle the situation. That was how this was. I kept thinking someone had to deal with it, and then I thought about the fact that I was the one.”

  Virgil paused over a photo. He plucked several from the stack and examined them. He thought of a Bach piano piece he liked to play and unconsciously tapped his left hand over the notes; instead of his right hand finding the notes he would have played, he found ideas popping around in his mind, like exploding water balloons. He asked, “The small child, Joanna? Yeah. Are these pictures just as she and the room were when you found them?”

  “Of course, with the state of everything, there was no illusion the baby was alive. We got the pictures quickly, and nothing was touched; I can say that without doubt. That ‘bout broke my heart, finding that little girl….”

  Virgil went back to the pictures of the food lying all over the floor: a few containers of leftovers, but many packages of new meat, juice, and vegetables. “They died Sunday night? And this here is it a roast with carrots and potatoes on the floor?”

  “Yes, those were the last foods eaten by the family. We found them Wednesday morning. Now, Sheriff, I understand you do things a little different, but I am curious to know why you care so much about the
last meal. It’s clear when they died, so tell me what scent are you chasing? You look like a coon dog after a possum.” Reb Kirby saw a glimmer of the reason Agent Lord, his friend, had been so enthusiastic about Virgil working the Hollingsworth angle.

  “This is all newly bought food except for the left over roast. You buy food and toss out junk after you grocery shop, right? Look at Joanna’s room. See her changing table? There are two diapers or three left there, but right there on the floor, see the unopened boxes? The family used the disposables; there are a lot of them. When you logged evidence, how many toilet paper rolls were there? Five? Was the dispenser roll empty?”

  Sheriff Kirby was shocked, and he burst out, “How in the hell did you know that?” He grinned broadly. “Damned if you aren’t right. Why does it matter, and how did you know?” He was amazed.

  Tina smirked, “He knew because the killer took the roll off the dispenser and used it and then opened a fresh four pack of rolls. He left the wrapping on the floor, I bet. Sheriff, the diapers, the toilet tissue, and the food from the refrigerator were all new. Someone just went shopping and bought groceries and things for the house.”

  “The killer watched them shopping.” Sheriff Kirby shook his head and leaned back. “Someone bring me some more iced tea,” he bellowed. He frowned and looked at the photos and muttered as his deputy, Tim Turnbow, brought in another pitcher, looked around curiously, and ducked out of the room. “I don’t know if I should be mad at myself for missing this or just be glad you found it. “Hollingsworth upended salt, pepper, and other dry goods on the scene that matched this one. He never explained it, and we thought it was a case of ransacking the place and making a mess. They were new spices, full containers.”

  “The amount of blood splashed all over is a false signature. The new items scattered is the real signature,” Virgil said. “Don’t be angry at yourself, Sheriff Kirby. It’s all fresh eyes, and nothing more than that, I promise.”