by Susan Goslak
As he walked to his car, George realized that the police could track his car, so he had to get rid of it. He drove to the airport and parked in the long-term lot. He took a taxi from the terminal and headed in the opposite direction that he really wanted to go in. He had the driver drop him at a bus stop where he got on one bus, and then transferred to another. He got off at the central bus station where he checked his suitcase into a locker.
Outside the bus station he saw a man staggering down an alley. “Hey, Buddy, where’s the nearest bar?” he called as he approached the drunk.
When George got close enough to the drunk he simply put his hands around the man’s throat and strangled him. Another dangerous killer off the street. I think I’ll get me a burger, then sack
out at the Hope Is Here homeless shelter. The cops won’t look for
me there. But first, I have to take care of work.
He drove to a hotel and used one of the computers that the hotel had for the use of their visitors. He emailed his resignation to his boss. Now, I’m finally going to get Cissy’s killer, or die trying!
«Chapter Twenty Seven»
The next morning in Lt. Jim Donner’s office Ray grinned as Jim handed him a pad and a pen.
“Have a seat, Ray. I’ll call in the rest of the team. In a few minutes the team was assembled. “Well, I guess you’ve all heard that Mr. Jansen was attacked last night by our killer. Suffice it to say that he’s not quite up to par today, but at least we found out that the sketch we have is in fact the killer. We also know that his first name is George and that something happened to his sister four years ago. Her name was Cissy.
Jim nodded to one of his men who said, “I looked into crimes that took place in the park and found that four years ago a teenager named Cissy Miller was attacked near the rose garden and killed on Decamber 20th. She was strangled. Her brother, George, witnessed the crime.”
The Captain asked, “He witnessed the crime, but didn’t help her?”
The officer answered, “He couldn’t. He was just coming out
of one of the bars across the street. He spotted his sister’s bright yellow coat. He told police that he saw what appeared to be a tramp, or a homeless man, strangle his sister. He heard her scream and saw her fall to the ground, but by the time he ran to her she was already dead. The description he gave matches the men he’s been killing right down to the shoes. He also said that the man had a huge scar on his face.
Mr. Miller was so traumatized and guilt ridden that he had to be committed to the Peaceful Life Rehabilitation Center which is in Sacramento. He was released about six months ago.
Dr.Winfred, the profiler, who was standing near one of the filing cabinets, spoke, “The first murder occurred on March 25th. Cissy’s birthday was March 25th. To make matters worse March 25th. occurred on a Wednesday this year and that was the day of the week that the murder occurred, so now we have the stressor that started Mr. Miller’s murder spree.
The Captain asked, “There was a month between the first murder that we are aware of and the second murder, but then the murders occurred every week. Yesterday the perp attacked Mr. Jansen in his office. It was a Wednesday, but Mr. Jansen isn’t a homeless man and the attack didn’t occur in the area that the murders occurred in. Why did George deviate from his pattern? Why attack Ray?”
“First of all, there may be some murders in that first month that we haven’t discovered yet, or maybe George had to think about what he’d done.,“ answered Dr. Winfred. “As to why he attacked
Ray, maybe he got scared when he saw his picture on T.V.
and knew that we were after him.”
Ray was furiously writing. Jim took the pad from him and read, “Ray thinks that George mistook him for one of the men who worked on the case initially. He thinks that George was trying to say that he’d stop killing men if the police would arrest his sister’s killer.
Dr. Winfred looked at Ray. “I think you may be right, Ray.”
Jim spoke, “Well, we know now that we’re looking for a man named George Miller. We checked his work place and his apartment. He handed in his resignation at work and he’s not at his apartment. Our perp is in the wind, men, so our job just got easier and harder at the same time. Any suggestions as to where we should begin looking?”
The Captain said, “Everywhere and fast!”
Dr. Winfred said, “I think that he’ll stay in the area. He wants revenge for his sister’s death. That is his sole motivation. He isn’t going to stop, but he might escalate.”
Jim moaned, “Oh, great. That’s just what we need.”
Ray croaked,” That might . . . “
Jim said, “Stop! Don’t talk, write.”
Ray wrote and Jim read, “Ray thinks that if George escalates his killings he’ll be more likely to make a mistake.”
“I agree,” said Dr. Winfred.
Jim sent two of his men to canvass the area around the park looking for the place where George might be staying. “Try cheap hotels that don’t have a doorman,” he suggested. He sent two other men to canvass restaurants in the area. He continued assigning men to look for George until he felt that he had all areas covered as best
he could.
Once again Ray wrote and Jim read, “Good idea, Ray. Ray suggests that we put as many man as we can out in the area dressed as homeless men and that all of them wear the Nike shoes.
“Okay, men, let’s get out there and work double fast,” said the Captain.
As everyone left the room Jim put a hand on Ray’s shoulder and said, “Ray, my friend, you are useless in this investigation until you can talk, so go home and rest up we’ll need you later to act as a decoy.”
“Thanks, Pal,” croaked Ray.
As Ray and Jim were about to leave the Captain met them at the door. “We’ve got a dead body in an alley behind the bus station. The team that caught the case realized that the M.O. was the same as the one we are dealing with and gave us a call Go check it out.
The three men looked grave. Jim said, “And so it begins.”
« Chapter Twenty Eight »
The park was dark because the moon was hidden behind clouds. Rain was predicted, but hadn’t started yet. It was midnight. Ray and two other detectives from our office had joined Jim and six of his officers. All of them were dressed as homeless men wearing the Nike shoes that they got from Father O’Shea. The men were walking, lounging, sitting and trying to look casual. Maybe because there were so many of them visible, or maybe because George was being extra cautious, or maybe it was the rain that had started a little after midnight, but whatever the reason, when the men left at dawn, there had been no murder in the area. “Don’t be discouraged, men, we’ll get him,” said Jim as the men left to go home for some sleep.
Jim didn’t think he’d be able to sleep, but he fell asleep the minute his head hit the pillow. When he returned to his office on Friday afternoon he contacted the facility where George had spent time after his sister’s death. He spoke with the doctor who had been in charge of George’s case, Doctor Evans. The doctor told Jim that he had no idea that George was violent. Jim couldn’t believe his
ears. He had a serial killer on his hands and this doctor had no idea that he was violent. Incredible! How could this be?
“When he left you, did you recommend a doctor in this area for Mr. Miller to see?” Jim asked.
When George left us he had a job as a bookkeeper with a firm in your area and an apartment. I felt that he would be able to pick up his life and continue on successfully,” said Dr. Evans. “I did recommend that he see a psychologist during the transition time. The doctor I recommended was Dr. Olivia Manning.
“Thank you,” said Jim. “I’ll give her a call.”
Jim made an appointment with Dr. Manning, and then drove to our office. I saw him come in and went over to greet him.
“Hey, Beautiful, how’s our boy today? Can he talk yet?”
Ray heard Jim’s voice and came out of his office t
o greet Jim. “I can talk now, but it sounds like I have laryngitis. It also feels like I have laryngitis. I’d like to get my hands around George’s throat.
“Come on, Ray, we have an appointment with a psychologist. I’ll fill you in on the way.”
Fifteen minutes later Ray and Jim were seated in Dr. Manning’s office explaining why they wanted to talk to her.
“I’ve spent a lot of time with Mr. Miller since he came back from the rehab center. He seemed to be adjusting quite well. He enjoyed his job and felt comfortable in his apartment. He spoke freely about his sister and what happened to her. I sensed that he still had some guilt regarding her death, but that he was dealing with it. The last time I saw him was on his sister’s birthday. He brought me
a cupcake and a party hat. He said that he was celebrating her birthday. He seemed to be a little giddy, a little over the top, but certainly not violent. I haven’t seen him since that day.”
“Well, he’s been busy since you saw him last,” said Jim with more than a hint of sarcasm in his voice. Then he bluntly told the doctor about the killings.
The doctor was so shocked that she didn’t know what to say.
She was visibly upset. “Oh, my God, how could this happen?”
“I don’t know, Doc but, maybe you should read some of those books over there on your shelf,” said Jim angrily.
“Easy, Jim. This isn’t her fault,” said Ray.
“I apologize,” said Jim.
Doctor Manning just shook her head and waved her hand as if to brush away the apology. “How?” she mumbled to herself.
“Now that you know what he’s been doing, do you have any idea where we might look for him?” asked Ray.
Dr. Manning looked shell shocked. ”What? Oh, I think he’ll stay in the area until he is satisfied that he’s gotten revenge for his sister’s killing. I’m sorry, but that’s about all the help I can give you. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
On the way out of Dr. Manning’s office Jim’s cell phone rang. “Where?” he asked.
“Another murder, Ray, this one’s a little north of the park. He’s really deviating from his pattern.”
Ray and Jim drove to the crime scene and discovered that
George hadn’t deviated too much from his pattern. A homeless man had been strangled and his face was bashed. Jim did what was
required of him and left the medical examiner and his team in charge.
“We’ve got to catch this guy before the body count becomes a double digit number,” said Ray as he followed Jim out to the car. “Maybe we need a new plan.”
“Let’s give it some thought,” said Jim.
And that’s what they did, over dinner in the restaurant on the ground floor of our building.
“I’m starved,” said Jim. “I’ll get us a table and order an appetizer while you go get Lexi.”
“What makes you think that I was going to ask Lexi to join us?” asked Ray.
Jim chuckled. “Oh, you mean you weren’t thinking of Lexi?
I’ll go ask her, then.”
“Thanks, Pal. I can handle this myself.”
When Ray and I entered the restaurant a waitress greeted us, “Your party is seated over there. Would you like something from the bar?”
“I’ll have a cosmopolitan. Ray’s working. He’ll have coffee,” I answered.
Jim was munching on stuffed mushrooms. He rose and gave me a hug. In between bites he filled me in on what had taken place that day.
“You know, this may sound wrong, but in a way I feel sorry for George,” I said.
“Yeah, well let’s put him in jail, and then you can feel sorry for him,” growled Jim. “There’s a lot of people putting in a lot of
time trying to stop this guy.”
Ray’s cell phone rang. “Excuse me,” he said as he rose and headed for the foyer.
Ray returned to the table. “That was Toon calling from a pay phone. He saw George.”
“Where?” Jim and I asked at once.
“At the homeless shelter. He slept there last Wednesday.”
“I’ll be damned,” Jim swore. “Did he sleep there last night, too?”
“Toon didn’t know, and we don’t know if he’ll show there tonight, but let’s hope he does, because I have an idea.”
“What’s your idea?” asked Jim bitterly. “We wait till he kills somebody tonight, then go pick him up when he’s tucked in bed all nice and cozy?”
“Not quite,” said Ray. “Maybe we can pick him up before he kills. It’s worth a try.”
“I don’t like the sound of that,” I said. “Are you planning to set yourself up as a target?”
Ray and Jim both looked at me. Neither of them said anything. I put a hand on each of them. “Okay, this is where I affirm my confidence in you, Darling, and let you do your job.” I picked up my purse, gave Ray a kiss, and said, “I’ll be waiting for you at my apartment.” When I got outside the restaurant I had to sit down on the bench that was next to the door.
The waitress came outside. “Are you all right, Lexi?”
I was pale and shaky. What I’d said to Ray had taken a lot of courage. “I don’t know yet. You’ll have to ask me tomorrow,” I
answered. I left then and drove home dreading the long night ahead of me.
Ray explained his plan to Jim. They shook hands, wished each other “Good luck,” and left to change their clothes and get ready for their night duty.
A short time later Ray appeared at the Hope Is Here shelter dressed as a homeless man, wearing a light brown wig and sporting a scar on his cheek. He took a cup of coffee and sat at one of the tables. He spoke with the others who were there. He got up to check the area.. George wasn’t in the restroom, the sleeping room, the shower room or the kitchen. Without attracting attention Ray showed the sketch to the workers and explained who he was. He cautioned them to keep his identity secret. One of the staff members who worked the night shift said that he was sure that George had slept there last night, but he hadn’t seen him today.
Ray went outside to make a call to Jim. None of the men on “The Nike Patrol,” as the men called themselves, had seen George.
It started to rain just as Ray was going back into the building and in a few minutes the rain escalated to a downpour. The hour got later, the rain got heavier and the building began to fill up with men anxious to get warm and dry. Ray watched each man as he came in. When he spotted Toon and Doc coming in he hurried over to them before they could greet him and give away his true identity. Doc went to the sleeping room because he was tired. Toon was too excited about the imminent capture of a killer. He sat with Ray and
kept him company. He got some paper and a pencil from the staff and made a sketch of Ray in his disguise. At 1:00 a.m. Ray
suggested that they go in and lie down. “We won’t be really asleep,
Toon, We’ll be pretending. I’ll lie face up so that if George does come in he’ll see my scar.
Ray checked his watch at 3:00 a.m. and decided that his plan wasn’t working. He saw that Toon was asleep. He put a note next to Toon and left.
He got to my apartment at 3:30, used his key and entered quietly. He picked me up from the couch and carried me to bed with him. “Ray, you’re here,” I mumbled sleepily. I snuggled into his shoulder and said, “I’m so glad you’re here.” Ray put his arms around me and we drifted off to sleep. I was so thankful that he was safe.
« Chapter Twenty Nine »
The bar where George sat at the counter was dark. He didn’t know how long he’d been sitting there. He looked around as if he’d just woken up from a nap. He looked at his hands holding a glass of beer and realized that he was thirsty. He took a sip of his beer. It was warm. He became aware of the stale smell of beer and the patter of the rain pelting the windows. He realized how quiet and dark the bar was. It’s not good when it’s too dark in here, thought George. I can’t see if anyone has a scar.
The bar was closing so George finished his dri
nk and staggered out into the downpour. He’d slept at the shelter for the past two nights, but not tonight. He didn’t want anyone there to recognize him, so he planned to sneak into the church and sleep there.
He went to the storm door behind the church. It was one of those old fashioned doors just a few feet off the ground with two slanted door panels that opened onto steps that went down into the cellar. The storm door was meant to be a shelter in case of a storm. The latch was locked with a Yale lock that George knew how to jimmy with a piece of wire. There was a piece of wood keeping the
doors closed from the inside. George could move it by putting his pen knife through the gap between the two door panels. He went down the stairs to the basement feeling his way in the dark. When he got to the bottom of the stairs he felt around for the flashlight that Father O’Shea kept there.
He knew that the church ladies kept the donated clothes that they gave out for free in the basement so he knew that he could change his wet clothes for nice, clean dry ones. He also knew that there were blankets and cases of water and juice kept there. He’d have a comfy hiding place tonight, no one would find him at this hour and he’d be gone before the six o’clock mass started. Maybe tomorrow would be the day he’d finally get the murderer of his sweet sister. George dumped his wet clothes in a pile in one corner of the basement and chose some clothes in his size to put on. In the morning I’ll be wearing a pair of the same Nike shoes that Cissy’s murderer wore, now isn’t that irony for you, thought George. He made himself a soft, cozy bed and fell asleep almost instantly, but he didn’t sleep restfully.
He was disturbed by dreams in which he saw his sister murdered. The dream was dark, almost black, faces were unrecognizable. Cissy’s yellow coat glowed in the dark. George saw a man with a scar on his face reach towards Cissy. At first she didn’t seem afraid of the man, but George knew that the man wanted to harm Cissy. George started to run towards Cissy so that he could help her, but his feet would not cooperate. They felt weighted down. He was only able to move in slow motion. The man with the scar started to choke Cissy. She screamed. George watched in horror as