by Dick Waters
Mike studied me for a moment, commenting, “Yes, they were attractive women, close to the same age. Your analysis of the murders is very much on the mark…nice job Scott. Let me tell you what we learned after our further investigation. However, I want to get the Kellerman file. Do you want a refill?”
*.*.*
We sat back down in the conference room. Mike pulled out his notebook. “Here’s an update. These women knew each other when they were growing up. They stayed somewhat in touch over the years. They went to the same summer camp, later became counselors at that camp. We have tracked down two women who knew Phyllis; Charlotte Williams is unmarried, out of the country and working in Bermuda.”
“The other woman in her address book was Helen Reynolds. We have tracked her down. She is married, her name is Ryder now. She lives in Merrimack New Hampshire. She was not a counselor, but Charlotte was.”
“We met with Helen briefly at Phyllis’ funeral; she was one of the people who gave the eulogy. Although she was troubled that two of her friends were killed, she hoped the killer would try something with her. She said she has a large dog. If the bastard wants her…the dog will take him apart before he can try anything like what happened to her friends. Besides, her husband is with her almost all the time, as he runs a business out of their home.”
I laughed at the picture his statement created. “Maybe if the dog were to bite the right places it might be just punishment for him.”
Mike must have been thinking about what I said. “Maybe the guys who rape women should have their respective parts cut off, giving the raped women authorization to do it. That might just make others think twice before they commit a rape.”
“What about talking to the owner of the summer camp?”
“We’re going to try to do that as a matter of fact. They live in Derry, New Hampshire. Would you like to go with me?”
“Sure, what are their names?”
“Rose and Harold Anderson.”
I couldn’t believe my ears. “You said Derry right…Mike, they’re Lisa’s parents!”
Chapter 53
Judy opened their dorm room door, finding Lisa sitting looking out the window of their apartment. “What’s up Lisa?”
She got up and moved the chair back to the desk. “I just thought I would look at the building behind ours. I just feel at times I’m being watched, so I felt like returning the favor.”
“Did you see anything?” Judy asked, walking over to the window herself.
“No, not really.” She wanted to change the subject. “Judy, we didn’t really have a chance to talk about our days away with the guys. I had a great time with Scott and it felt so right to be with him. How was your time with Neil?”
Judy laughed and shared, “I guess I never knew he snored, however I did keep him awake most of the time. The rest of the time I was too tired to really pay much attention to it.” She laughed louder this time. “Did you try the melted chocolate treatment I suggested?”
She smiled, admitting, “I don’t think I ever enjoyed chocolate as much as I did this past week. I had to buy extra bars…Scott developed a taste of his own for it.” She laughed with Judy this time. “It’s a little messy, but it makes the shower much more fun.”
Judy, looking over at her, asked, “What kind of monster have I created? This from a girl who had almost never kissed a guy in high school, you’re certainly making up for lost time.”
“Speaking of time…the long ride on the way up to the inn gave me a long time to drive him crazy, and I have to admit, me too. I almost ripped his clothes off when he brought the luggage to the room.”
Judy responded, “Speaking of luggage and ripping clothes off, Scott didn’t mention coming with Neil when they brought our luggage. I opened the door in my birthday suit, meaning to surprise Neil, but Jeremy and Scott got a free show.”
“Lisa is there anything else you care to share about six days and six nights with Scott?”
She took a deep breath and tried to decide if she wanted to mention it, but just smiled.
“Okay, now I know you’re hiding something. Lisa I gave you my suggestion about a special treatment package, I think you owe sharing what you’re smiling about. I’ll only tell the world.”
She took another breath and offered, “Let’s just say I had an orgasm when I heard him open the window and break off an icicle…and that wasn’t the only time.”
“Wow, Lisa that gives me shivers just thinking about it.”
“The temperature differences I experienced were incredible. You’ll have to try it with Neil, but don’t tell him who told you.”
Judy walked to the window again, looking up to see the hanging icicles over their window. She wondered how, but wasn’t going to ask. “I’ll just have to do that. Maybe I won’t wait for him to call me; I might just call him in a little while.”
*.*.*
When they were down in the reception area, she noticed Judy frowning reading the newspaper. “Judy what has you so occupied?”
Judy looked up, closing the newspaper to answer her. “Lisa, I was just reading about the latest strangling in the paper. Did Scott tell you they were working on this new set of stranglings?”
“He mentioned they were going to maintain the task force since the murders were right on the heels of them arresting that other guy. He’s also going to help them for at least a little while. Oh, I never mentioned this to you; his cousin was one of the earlier murdered women, which is why he was so focused on catching the strangler.”
She watched as Judy reopened the newspaper, studying the article again. She looked around the room, noticing many coeds enjoying being back in the dorm again. She heard the front entry door open, looking over hoping to see Scott. She noticed the guard scanning the room also, but his eyes seemed to lock on hers when she spotted him. She looked down at her arms. The hairs were standing up.
Chapter 54
Mike told me of a woman in Derry who knew the two murdered women and their immediate group of friends. He asked if I wanted to go on the interview. I thought it would be a great experience.
We headed toward Derry, pulling off Interstate 93, driving east toward the center of town. Derry was a small, typical New Hampshire town with two main cross streets at the center, which had the only traffic light in town. We drove past the Hoodcroft Golf Course to the traffic circle, continuing east up the hill. The house we were looking for was a short distance on the right.
Mike pulled to the side of the road, onto the dirt shoulder. He asked me to confirm the house number we were looking for. I confirmed it was the right house. Mike had phoned ahead. Mrs. Jacobs was quick to open the front door as we approached.
“Good Morning.”
Mike responded, “Good Morning. I’m Detective Mike Miller and this is my associate, Scott Tucker. As I mentioned on the phone, we were assigned to the New England Strangler task force. We are now working on the Kellerman and Horton cases. Mrs. Jacobs, how did you know these women?” Mike asked, in a soft voice.
Mrs. Jacobs held the door for us, ushering us into the house and the living room. “I used to have a dance studio in Manchester. Both of the girls were in one of my classes. In fact, there were four young ladies who were friends, spending time in one or more of my classes. I can’t believe anyone would want to murder those two young ladies,” she said, holding back obvious emotion.
I watched Mike pause, making sure she would maintain her composure.
“I went to Karen’s funeral, since she was buried in the town cemetery up the hill, next to her parents. Her parents were killed in a rollover crash on Route 93 a few years ago. Karen’s uncle was a volunteer fireman at that time. He was called out for the crash. After attempting to put out the flames, he realized that it was his brother’s car. However, I’m getting off track, aren’t I? Helen, another in the group, read the eulogy at the funeral. I’ll get it from my desk to read it to you.”
I felt sorry for Mrs. Jacobs. Mike must have felt the same wa
y.
“Here’s what she said. This was later published in the paper as a tribute to both girls.”
‘Once upon a time two young birds shared every word. Because they were free, they trusted every tree. Each day they took life, never knowing any strife. They cared for each other when wings wouldn’t flutter. Until along came a crow, cut each one down with a blow. Now they’re flying in God’s heaven, smiling like all is forgiven. I’m the one left and every day, I try my best to contact the rest. Shush - I hear some birds. I wish I could understand their words.’
Mrs. Jacobs added, “Thank you for letting me read that to you. I read it every day, still trying to understand why they were killed. When I hear birds, I wonder if the young ladies are coming to visit me.”
Mike replied, “I can understand your loss. Mrs. Jacobs we feel the two killings are related. Can you think of anyone who would have a grudge against them?”
Mrs. Jacobs looked at the paper she was holding, and then at us. “I ask myself that question every day. I don’t understand who could do such a thing. I know they went to a summer camp in the White Mountains each year, eventually becoming camp counselors.”
“That’s interesting. Do you know the town where the camp was located?” Mike inquired.
“Yes I do, but Mrs. Anderson lives right here in town. She and her husband have owned the camp for years. If you’ll wait a minute, I’ll get you her number. She lives right up the hill in a very large home.”
While she was gone, Mike whispered, “I think we should also talk to Charlotte Williams. If someone held a grudge on the two murdered women, it could have been on all three. Let’s see if we can find out how to get in touch with her too.”
“Here you are.” She handed the piece of paper to Mike, commenting, “Mr. Miller, I’ll warn you, you should just drive there, because if you call ahead, you might not get to talk with Rose!”
“Thanks Mrs. Jacobs. You mentioned there were four girls. Do you know how we can get in touch with Charlotte Williams?” Mike asked.
“Oh, she’s out of the country right now, but I’m not sure where. Perhaps the other friend, Helen Reynolds…I mean, Helen Ryder knows how to reach her.”
“We really appreciate all of your help and time. Here’s our Cambridge Mass phone number. If you think of anything else, please get the operator to make it a collect call. You can ask for me or Patrick O’Brien,” Mike announced.
“You’re both very welcome,” she said, this time with tears in her eyes.
I could not resist giving her a hug. “Mrs. Jacobs, you have been a big help – thank you.”
Mike added, “Mrs. Jacobs, we will do everything in our power to catch this animal.”
*.*.*
We weren’t driving but a few minutes when Mike broke the silence. “I think we made some real progress talking with Mrs. Jacobs. The fact that these other women are lifelong friends of the two murdered women is important. I would almost like to skip the visit with Mrs. Anderson and talk with Charlotte Williams.”
I replied, “With all the time we have spent on these cases, I agree that this morning we might be getting closer to a real connection. I was also thinking that Williams and Ryder might be future targets.”
“There is a definite connection to the two women. I’m not sure the others are in danger, but the thought did cross my mind. There’s the address for the Anderson’s, we need to turn up into that driveway.”
The driveway gave the impression that something elegant was in store. The entry was a granite structure, like something seen in Europe, not overly done, but with style and care. Mike turned left between the columns, heading up the drive. The home was well hidden from the main road, because of the many trees and significant rise to the property.
Mike took his time going up the driveway. It was wide enough for two vehicles to pass with room to spare, but the curving drive limited our view. We could see that the trees were getting brighter, which meant we were coming out of the woods and into a clearing. Sitting on yet a higher level was a marvelous looking home. It was difficult to take in a single view due to the many roofs and uneven façade.
I thought of Lisa growing up here. You have got to be kidding? Can you believe this place? I could not have imagined we were going to see an estate like this, even though Mrs. Jacobs had told us it was a large home.
We made our way to the portico in front of the home. That area had cobblestones set in a circular pattern. The colors were shades of red and gray. The steps were solid white marble, with edging in a contrasting dark gray. The whole area greeted you well.
I asked, “Do we park our car or hide it?”
“I had the same feeling. Let’s get this over with,” Mike responded.
Making our way to the front door, I turned at the top of the stairs and looked toward the west. I could see the town laid out in the valley below. It was truly a remarkable setting. Someone had quite the vision to build the home in this location.
*.*.*
Mike pressed the doorbell and we could hear the Westminster chimes ringing inside. Quickly, the tall dark door opened to reveal a very gentlemanly butler. “Yes, how might I help you gentlemen?”
Mike answered quickly showing his identification. “My name is Mike Miller and this is my associate Scott Tucker. I’m a detective assigned to the New England Strangler task force and we would like to talk with Mrs. Anderson. Is Mrs. Anderson available for a few minutes?”
“What may I ask is this concerning?” the butler inquired, still holding the door open.
“It’s about the two women, Horton and Kellerman, who were both murdered. We understand Mrs. Anderson knew both of them while they were growing up.”
“Well, I’m sorry. Mrs. Anderson has provided everything she knows to the police. You will have to talk with them.”
“Sir, I’m sorry, but as I mentioned we are both connected with a special task force, which was set up by the Massachusetts Attorney General to solve the New England strangling cases. Our questions are specific and should only take a few minutes of her time. We feel she may be able to make a difference in our investigation if we could speak with her for just a short period of time. If we need to, we will make an appointment and come back.”
“Gentlemen, I appreciate your situation, but I will have to check with the Mrs. and see if she can be disturbed at this hour. Please wait here in the foyer.”
Mike and I wasted no time going inside. It was an amazing view, with a collection of antiques all around the foyer, set off by a grand staircase leading up to the second floor. A giant crystal chandelier hung over the large Oriental rug.
We waited quite a while, not speaking a word, but just looking around, smiling periodically at each other. Finally, we noticed a figure at the top of the staircase. The floor to ceiling windows let in so much light it was hard to distinguish the details of the person on the landing. Soon, a very elegant woman greeted us.
“Good morning, gentlemen. I’m sorry you had to wait so long, but I was not quite presentable when you arrived. I was told it was something about the two young ladies who were murdered. How can I help your investigation?”
“Thanks, Mrs. Anderson. I am a detective with the New England Strangler task force. My name is Mike Miller. This is my associate, Scott Tucker. Thank you for seeing us without any advance appointment. We are specifically interested in the Karen Kellerman and Phyllis Horton murders. How did these women know each other? We spoke with their dance teacher. She told us that they, along with one or two other girls, were very close when they were younger.”
Mrs. Anderson responded pointing toward another room. “Let’s go into the study. Please call me Rose.”
We were led into a room with floor to ceiling bookshelves on all but one of the walls. I estimated the ceilings to be sixteen feet high, which reminded me of the library where I met Lisa.
“You have a very nice home. This study is quite magnificent,” Mike offered, after he looked around.
“Thank
you, we really enjoy this room.”
Mike got right to the subject at hand. “Can you please tell us how you knew the women? We are treating these two killings differently than the other strangling cases. We believe the man in custody had nothing to do with these recent murders.”
“Well, as I told the Derry police when they visited with us, we have run a summer camp for many years now. For the life of me, it is not for the money, as it’s personally more work than it is worth. About twenty years ago, in the early 40’s, these girls were my lead counselors. They were campers prior to joining on as counselors. I really loved how Karen, Phyllis and Charlotte handled the young campers.”
I wanted to ask, but Mike beat me to it. “Where is the camp located?”
“It’s in Campton, New Hampshire, just east of Plymouth, in the Waterville Valley area. It’s in a nice location and a real treat for the boys and girls.”
“Can you provide any information related to their counseling experience?”
“They were model counselors. I still get letters from former campers about how much of an impact ‘Knotty Pine Camp’ and these particular girls had on their lives. I do not think I have ever had more of a team than when these girls were involved. I have not had any group of counselors show such love and caring.”
“We are concerned, without going into confidential details, that the same man killed both of these women. We need to find something in their lives which might have given someone a motive to kill them.”
Rose responded immediately, “I cannot think of anything while they were at camp that was serious enough to provide a motive for murder.”