by J. C. Fields
As they approached the front door, it opened, and a woman in her mid-forties stepped out. “Are you the FBI agent that called earlier?”
“Yes, ma’am. Special Agent Sean Kruger, and this is Forensic Specialist Charlie Craft.”
He opened his ID wallet, showed his badge and identification card. “May we come in?”
She nodded, and Charlie entered the house first. Her height barely reached his shoulders. She had medium-length brown hair with gray peeking out at the roots. The square glasses seemed an odd addition to her round face. They walked into the house while she held the door open. He noticed her eyes were red; Kruger guessed from crying.
Kruger’s first impression of Brenda Parker’s home was the stark contrast of her organized clutter to the minimalist furnishings of Paul Bishop’s house. As he stood in the entryway, he noticed several cats scurrying for cover.
“I hate to be rude, but why do you want to talk to me about Paul? We were married for a very short time, a very long time ago.”
Kruger stood in the living room and turned to look at the woman, who remained by the front door. Her hand still on the knob, as if anticipating she would be escorting them right back out.
“When was the last time you spoke to Paul?”
“As I told you on the phone, it’s been at least six years. Not since he finally filed for divorce.”
Kruger smiled. “Yes, I’m aware of what you told me.” He looked around and continued, “Why don’t we sit down? We have a lot of questions.”
She took a deep breath, sighed, and walked over to a wooden rocking chair. After taking a stack of magazines off of the seat, she sat down and pointed at the sofa for Kruger and Charlie. Finally she spoke, “I’m not sure I can help you.” She paused and sighed. “But since you’re here, go ahead.”
“Are you aware of what’s happened to Paul?” Kruger paused, searching for anything noteworthy in her response.
“My sister called. She still lives in Wildwood. But I can tell you right now, he didn’t kill those women. I assume that was the reason for your visit.”
Kruger was silent. He looked at the woman for several moments. “Well, it was going to be one of my questions. What makes you so sure, Ms. Parker?”
“Paul Bishop was a gentle and kind man. He never physically hurt me during our time together. That was a little over eight years. We started dating our freshman year in college and married a year after graduation.”
Even though his predetermined role in the interview was to take notes, Charlie looked up. “What changed, Miss Parker?”
She turned her head and focused on something outside the picture window next to her rocking chair. She wiped a tear from her eye. “I changed.”
Kruger asked gently, “How so?”
She was quiet for a moment, continuing to gaze out the window. “A lot of things. Paul was a very shy man—brilliant, but shy. After we married, he struggled to find new clients.” She sighed. “He only worked for one company, his brother’s. He said it made him feel closer to Randy. But that wasn’t the real reason.”
Kruger raised an eyebrow, looked at Charlie, and then returned his attention to Brenda. “Randy? Who’s Randy?”
She looked at Kruger with wide eyes. “You don’t know?”
“No, we don’t.” Kruger shook his head. “A note we found was addressed to Randy, but it didn’t specify who Randy was. All we found were a few tax records showing Paul as a self-employed independent computer consultant.”
She stood suddenly. “That son of a bitch. Damn him. I tried to tell Paul, but he wouldn’t listen.”
Kruger leaned forward on the sofa. “What did you try to tell Paul?”
“About his brother. He’s the one you should be talking to. The man’s crazy.” She closed her eyes. “And sick.”
Kruger and Charlie glanced at each other. Kruger returned his attention to Brenda. “Why don’t you sit down? This is all new information to us.”
Sobbing, she excused herself and disappeared into the small kitchen off of the living room. Several moments later, she returned with a small square box of Puffs. She took a deep breath and exhaled. She sat down in the rocking chair and dabbed her eyes with a tissue. “I’ve tried to forget Paul, but I couldn’t. Every day for the past sixteen years, I’ve thought about him. Wondering what our life would be like together.” She wiped her eyes again. “His brother was the real reason I left. The man scared me. He pushed Paul around and treated him like dirt. But Paul idolized his brother. Randy—”
Charlie looked up from his notes. “Randy Bishop?”
She shook her head. “No. That’s what Paul called him. He insisted on being called Randolph. This was after he graduated from high school and left for Yale. Paul went to the Missouri University of Science and Technology at Rolla. That’s where we met. I was a chemical engineering student, and he was in computer science. We met at a freshman mixer the first week.” She paused and stared at a stain on the carpet. “He never dated anyone else that I know of.”
She raised her head and stared out the picture window again. Kruger and Charlie remained silent. A minute later, she sighed. “Those were good times. I dated a few other guys but always went back to Paul. He treated me like I was the only girl he would ever love. I guess I was.”
Low and soft, Kruger said, “Brenda, tell us, what did Paul’s brother do that scared you enough to leave?”
Once again, she stared silently out the window, tears rolling down her face.
“After college I found a job in St. Louis with a pharmaceutical company and Paul started a computer consulting business. At first he did well, using contacts from school and leads his professors sent. But for some reason, after a while, the contracts dried up. Paul was too shy to pursue new ones. I know his brother had something to do with it, but I could never prove it. Anyway, Randolph’s company started using him as a computer consultant. He was never an employee. But it was the only company he did business with. His brother told him it needed to be that way. Because of company policies, they couldn’t hire relatives. Randy was a vice president of sales at that time and always told Paul he would make him an employee as soon as possible. Because he was an independent contractor, he received no benefits. Just another way Randy abused his brother.”
She stood and looked at both of them. “I need a glass of water. Can I get either of you anything?”
Kruger and Charlie shook their heads.
After being gone for several minutes, she returned with a glass of water and sat back down. “We were married a year after graduation. It was to be a small ceremony, his brother was to be the best man. Randolph never showed up. A day later, he called Paul and said he’d been too busy. Paul was heartbroken, but he didn’t complain. He just took the crap his brother dished out.” She paused. “Sorry. I still can’t believe he did that to his brother.”
She sipped more of the water and continued to stare out the front window. “My job was going well, and Paul developed a steady income from his business. Things were good. We bought the house in Wildwood and made plans to start a family. Then one day, Randy came by the house unannounced. I never knew the reason, he just showed up. Anyway, he walked into the house, looked around, and immediately started yelling at Paul. He was appalled by our messy house, screaming how ashamed he was to call Paul his brother. He stormed back out, never telling us why he was there. Paul was manic. He stripped the house of everything except what was essential—no pictures, no decorations, no clutter, nothing.”
She shook her head but stayed silent.
She waved her arm around the room. “As you can see, I don’t live that way. We fought constantly after Randy’s visit. I tired. I tried so hard.” She paused and brought her fist to her mouth. “I tried to make him see how his obsession with satisfying Randy was affecting our marriage. When I told him I was leaving, he still didn’t get it. Randy was manipulating him. Finally, six months after the incident I gave up. After packing a suitcase, I walked out the door with the f
ew possessions I still owned and left. Deep down inside, I prayed leaving Paul would help him realize what Randy was doing. But it never did.”
She looked straight at Kruger. “I’ve never stopped loving him. I waited, but he wouldn’t go against his brother.”
She was silent for a few moments.
“It hurt because Paul seemed more interested in his relationship with his brother than with me,” she continued as her eyes narrowed. “A brother who never gave a damn about Paul.”
Kruger nodded. “Why did it take so long to get the divorce?”
She took a deep breath, sighed, and shook her head. “Paul wanted to give me everything. I told him I only wanted a little money to help buy a house. I think he always thought I would come back. But I didn’t. Six years ago, a company here in Rockford recruited me and I moved. He finally realized I wasn’t going to change my mind and filed for divorce.”
Kruger titled is head slightly. “When we first got here, you told us he didn’t kill those women. How can you be so sure?”
“I was with the man for eight years,” she smiled grimly. “I just know.”
***
Kruger waited until they were heading back to the Rockford airport before speaking. “What do you think?”
Charlie looked at Kruger. “She believes Paul didn’t kill the women.”
“She’s the second person we’ve interviewed who’s told us the same thing. Paul Bishop couldn’t have done it.” He paused. “I got involved with the case after the third woman disappeared, and the chief of police suspected a serial killer might be responsible. So he contacted the Bureau. Since I live in Kansas City, I was the closest profiler. The first thing I noticed was the timing of the murders. It was odd. Every two or three years. Most serial killers have a fairly discernable time gap between killings; this guy didn’t. However, the women were similar; highly educated and professional. All but one was married and had families.”
Charlie glanced at Kruger. “I don’t remember hearing about them.”
“I’m not surprised. The killings took place over the course of a decade. With so much time involved, the news media lost interest. But the chief of police didn’t forget.” He paused, checking traffic before making a right turn. “I’ve profiled a lot of serial killers over the years. Normally, those profiles produce leads, and we catch the guy. If Paul Bishop is guilty, I missed the profile by a mile. He just doesn’t fit.”
Charlie was quiet as he stared out the car’s front window. “How was it determined they were killed by the same person?”
“All the women were killed in the same manner, and their bodies found in the same location.”
“That could just be a copycat killer?”
“Except the pattern of the bruises on their necks matched exactly. Same hand.”
Charlie whistled softly. “Do we need to go back to each victim and dig a little deeper?”
Kruger nodded. “I think we have to, we’re missing something. Why don’t you go back through the murder books? Put a fresh eye on them. My bet is we’ll find something they all have in common.”
Chapter 3
Wildwood, MO
Kruger sat in the conference room of the St. Louis County Police Department’s sixth precinct in Wildwood two days later. Detectives Winslow and Cordero, Captain George Kenneth, Charlie Craft, and Teri Monroe sat at the table waiting for Charlie’s report.
Charlie place four files and a sheet of paper summarizing each one in front of him. He read from the first summary: “Nina Watkins, twenty four, disappeared on June first 2003. Her body was found in a lime quarry off Bussen Road in St. Louis. She was last seen leaving a friend’s house on the way to an interview at a local CPA firm. She never arrived for the interview.
“Debra Riley was vice president of sales at Nixdorf Computers. She was thirty and disappeared on September 29, 2006. Her body was found in the same location as the Watkins woman. Her husband knew she was interviewing with another company, but she kept the company’s name confidential and never told him.
“Julie Martin was thirty-five, married, with two kids. She was a senior vice president with Harmon, Harmon, and Kinslow in their computer services department.”
Kruger stopped doodling on his notepad. He frowned and flipped through several pages of one of his notebooks and interrupted, “Randolph Bishop is the CEO of Harmon, Harmon, and Kinslow.”
Charlie nodded.
“Go on Charlie, tell us more about Julie Martin.”
Looking back at his notes, Charlie continued. “She was in line to become an executive vice president of the company when she disappeared one night after working late...”
Winslow looked at Charlie and asked, “When did Bishop get promoted?”
Charlie opened another file. “The company profile says Bishop was promoted to executive vice president on…” He stared at the page for several moments, then looked at Kruger. “November 2009. Two months after Julie Martin was killed.”
Cordero whistled, and Captain Kenneth said, “That’s thin. Real thin.”
Kruger nodded. “It’s beyond thin; it’s anemic. But it’s the first link we’ve found. Charlie, keep going.”
Charlie continued, “Martin’s car was found in the parking lot of a high-end restaurant. Her husband called the police after she failed to come home. Something she’d never done before. Her body was found in the same location as Watkins and Riley. This was the event that brought Agent Kruger into the case in the fall of 2009. It was established all three women were killed by the same assailant. Trace DNA was found on the Martin woman, but the FBI could not match it to any sample in their database.
“In April 2011, the body of Karla Gray was found at the same location two days after she was supposed to have left on a business trip to New York City. Her itinerary indicated she was meeting with two of the managing partners of KKR, a private equity company.”
Still looking at the notes in front of him, Kruger announced, “At the time of Gray’s death, KKR was in negotiations to buy Harmon, Harmon, and Kinslow.”
Charlie frantically started pulling papers out of the earlier files. After skimming each of them, he looked up. “Nina Watkins interviewed at Harmon, Harmon, and Kinslow two days before she disappeared. That’s three of the women with a link to Harmon, Harmon, and Kinslow.”
Kruger stared at Charlie. “I hate coincidences.” He paused and looked at Kenneth. “Guess it’s time I had a little face-to-face visit with Randolph Bishop.”
Efforts to interview Bishop were met with resistance by his gatekeepers. After several days of stalling, Kruger contacted the Missouri Department of Revenue and was told the make, model, and license plate number of Bishop’s car. That evening, he sat in his Ford Mustang in the parking lot of Harmon, Harmon, and Kinslow. A jet-black Cadillac CTS-V coupe was the object of his surveillance. At ten minutes after seven, a tall man wearing a dark-blue suit and a tieless shirt approached the parked Cadillac. Kruger started the Mustang. He waited until Bishop was in the car before driving and parking directly behind the Cadillac. Bishop was pinned in his parking slot. Kruger got out and walked to the driver’s side window with his credentials in hand.
The window silently slid down and Randolph Bishop screamed, “What’s the meaning of this? Who are you?”
Kruger held his credentials so that Bishop could clearly see. When Bishop reached for them, he pulled them back. “FBI Agent Sean Kruger. Mr. Bishop, I’ve been trying to arrange an interview with you for the last two days, but you’re a hard man to reach.”
“I’ve been out of town.”
Bishop was clearly lying. Kruger’s eyes narrowed. “Your staff wouldn’t even let me schedule an appointment. Why is that, Mr. Bishop?”
“I make my own appointments. They don’t know my itinerary.”
“Ahhhh, no one knew your itinerary.” Kruger’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “Okay, I’m making an appointment with you right now. I’ll be in your office at precisely eight o’clock in the morning. If
you’re not, I’ll hold you in contempt. Then I’ll issue a warrant for your arrest. Does that spell out the seriousness of this, Mr. Bishop?” He turned to walk back to his car.
“I’ll have my lawyer present.”
“Good.” Kruger looked back without breaking stride. “A wise decision on your part.”
***
At 8:00 a.m. the next morning, Kruger and Teri Monroe were escorted to Randolph Bishop’s office. Three men were in the room besides Bishop. An older man with silver hair sat in a guest chair in front of Bishop’s desk. The other two men stood off to the side. They were younger, and Kruger assumed corporate security. The older man in the chair stood and offered his hand, saying, “I’m Tyson Ernst, Mr. Bishop’s lawyer. May I examine you credentials?”
Kruger shook the man’s hand. “You may look at them, but you will not examine them. If you need proof of my credentials, here’s the number of Assistant Deputy Director Alan Seltzer. I report directly to him.” Kruger handed the lawyer a business card, which the lawyer took and examined.
He nodded. “Very well.”
Kruger continued, “This is Senior Forensic Technician Doctor Teri Monroe. She is the head of our forensics team looking into the death of Paul Bishop.”
Teri nodded, but no one responded.
Ernst spoke first. “What can we do for you, Agent Kruger?”
“You can’t do anything for me.” Kruger turned and looked directly at Bishop. “I need to ask Mr. Bishop about his brother.”
Ernst shook his head. “I speak for Mr. Bishop. I have advised him not to become involved with this matter.”
Kruger looked back at the lawyer. “Really, that’s not very good advice, counselor. In my world, silence is an indication of guilt.” Kruger looked back at Bishop. “Is Mr. Bishop guilty of something?”
“Of course not,” Ernst snorted with indignation.
“Then he won’t mind answering a few questions about his brother.”