“What’s the matter, Ben? Did that smart? I’m teaching you a lesson. You should never let a stranger in your home. That’s dangerous. You don’t know what that person is capable of. That’s the warning you gave Susan when she let the repairman into her mother’s home to fix the refrigerator. She didn’t think to check your identification, just as you didn’t think to check mine. She messed up bad. Then again, so did you.”
With that last statement, the tormentor placed the hot curling iron onto Ben’s inner thigh and left it there as the flesh singed and burned. When it was taken away, blood and fluid oozed down his legs toward the sheets. Blisters were already forming. “You really shouldn’t have let me in, Ben. You must learn not to let strangers in your house. You must be taught what’s right and what’s wrong.” Again, the curling iron was placed against Ben’s thigh until the smell was nearly sickening, even to the Avenger.
Ben struggled against the ropes that bound him to the bed. His head was clear now that the pain had driven away the fuzziness. He remembered those same threats he had uttered nearly eight months ago to a young girl who had let him in her house. He had been watching sixteen year old Susan for nearly three months when he heard her mother remind her before taking her to school of the repairman coming that afternoon. He was nervous all day as he planned what he would do. He didn’t want anything to happen to Susan, his girl. At least, she woulda been his on her eighteenth birthday, but he had needed to teach her a lesson about safety first. The same one his mom had taught him. When Susan had moaned and pleaded beneath him, he had been unable to restrain himself from taking her. He remembered how angry he’d been with her and had punished her severely for making him lose control, soiling her and spoiling his plans for them. In fact, she was rarely home anymore. He had been compelled to find himself another innocent angel to replace his fallen one. Amy was only fourteen, so four years to wait to taste her—
“Oh, Ben! You’re driving me crazy, moaning and carrying on like that! I can’t help myself. You’ve made me rock hard. I have to stop this pain. I gotta have you!” the Avenger exclaimed.
Ben, snatched from his dreamy fantasy, realized too late what was happening. He felt the hands pull his rear cheeks apart and press something large and hard against the opening. Noooooo! This can’t be happening, he tried to reassure himself. I’m just having a nightmare. But he knew it was real. He tried to inch up the bed to get away from the stranger behind him, but the ropes held him tight. Agony nearly caused him to pass out as the torture continued.
“Ooooh, Ben, you’re so snug. One day we’ll do this the right way, but now I just can’t hold out for you. This is so good. Better than I thought it would be. Oh, yes!” the Avenger cried out before squirting semen into Ben.
Ben chilled as he heard the next words, words that he had spoken to Susan that afternoon months ago after she had enticed him to make love to her. He vowed he was going to have to teach her another lesson for siccing this ferocious dog on him. Susan shouldn’t have told what happened between the two of them, just like she refused to tell the Grand Jury anything! Yes, Amy was the better one for him, but he was going to have to punish Susan first.
“Damnit, Ben, why did you make me do that? I was trying to teach you a lesson about strangers, and you kept tempting me until I couldn’t take it any more. Damn you, Ben!” With that last curse, the killer placed the hot iron on Ben’s testicles and sent him into darkness, following spasmodic jerks, guttural groans, and a flood of salty tears.
Ben didn’t want to wake up, but the voice was talking to him and slapping him in the face. He couldn’t make out the words, but he knew he didn’t want to hear what this asshole had to say. The only thing on his mind right now was finding Susan and teaching her a last lesson. He was going to fix her good for this violation and pain.
“Wake up, Ben. It’s time for me to go before someone finds me. I want you to tell me how sorry you are for what you’ve done and promise me to never, never do it again.”
Ben would promise him anything if the attacker would just leave him alone. He thought about calling the police, but quickly changed his mind. He didn’t want anyone to know about this. His mother would probably say he deserved it anyway. After all, he had let a stranger into their home, a filthy beast who had raped and beaten him. He had been careful to stay clear of Susan, but now he would take care of this bastard after he finished with her, after he forced the man’s identity from her lips, and those lips and cunt gave him the last pleasure she would ever give any man. Yep, as soon as he was free and healed, Susan and her revenger would be dead meat! Amy would need to be brought into line right from the beginning so this didn’t happen with her. He’d start her training soon.
“Well, Ben, I’m waiting. Say it.”
“I pwomith,” he managed to get out around the gag in his mouth.
“Now, there’s one last thing you need to do, Ben, look at me. You’d better look, Ben, because my face is the last thing you’re going to see before you look into Satan’s arms. You won’t be harassing any more young girls ever again. Ben, look at me.”
Ben didn’t want to look at him. But if he didn’t do what he was told to do, the stranger would probably burn him some more. Or fuck him again. He looked up into the face of his attacker and felt the prick on his inner elbow. Ben flinched at the hatred blazing in those fiery green eyes as they bore into his soul. It was the last thing he saw as he passed into darkness and the Hell beyond.
“I know Susan will sleep better with you dead and buried. At least Karen has eternal peace, and Lisa is beyond the media’s reach. I’m sure the police will protect Susan from them. Things are proceeding as planned, Tippi. Soon, you’ll have your peace and revenge. It’s all necessary evil and justice has been served. I’m sure James will be thrilled by this scoop with a special message.”
Sunday night, June 24th
“Looks like our Avenger struck again,” Henrietta said, motioning toward the body bound to the bed. “I’ve already checked his inner elbow, and he was recently injected with something. I’ll run the tests, but I have a feeling we’ll find elevated levels of potassium chloride in his system, too.”
“I called the precinct on the way over here, and I’d agree this was our Avenger. Ben Truman was arrested last year for raping and torturing a sixteen-year-old girl. He was released after the teenager laid eyes on him, fell apart and couldn’t testify. You know that law about a person’s right to face his accuser in court? She broke down on the stand and couldn’t give her testimony. He was released that afternoon,” Mory stated.
“What was the T-O-D?” Dan asked her.
“Sometime Friday night, probably around midnight or one. I’ll let you know for sure after I run more tests. He was burned severely on his legs, buttocks and...” Henrietta hesitated before stating, “his personal region.”
Dan and Mory grimaced at the same time. Subconsciously, both men’s hands brushed their own genitals, and Mory rearranged his for comfort. They could smell the lingering stench of burnt skin and their minds recoiled from the realization of where Ben’s flesh was mutilated.
“It was done with something long, straight and thin.” At the two men’s quick glances, she clarified, “The burns were inflicted by something portable, probably a woman’s curling iron. I bet your file says he used one on his victim.”
Dan walked to the body and examined the ropes. They were snugly tied, just as the last ones were. He looked more closely at the knot. “I’d say our villain is left-handed.”
“What makes you think that?” Mory questioned.
“The way the ropes are tied. If he is right handed, the rope would have gone over to the right, not the left. Look at the burn marks, Henri. Do you think they were inflicted by someone right or left handed?”
Henrietta stood over the body once more. She pulled out her measuring tape she always carried. She held her hands up and positioned them several ways before answering. “I’d say you’re right, Dan. It appears by the slant of
the blisters that whoever did this was using his left hand. He probably stood here and placed the iron here, like this.” She mimicked the killer’s position and put her gloved hands close to the victim’s body. “But our perp might be trying to mislead us. For certain, he’s smart and he’s careful, a real challenge to expose and capture.”
“What about fingerprints, Henri? Has Harold come up with any yet?” Dan asked.
“This room is as clean as a whistle, as far as incriminating evidence goes. Plugs were wiped clean. None on the light switches, nightstand, or bedposts. Harold is checking the other areas of the house to see if we can find any strange prints. I’ll check the rope for epithelial, fibers, and our perp’s blood, but doubt I’ll find any, just like the other times.”
Mory added, “I think it’s the same as the others he used, but I’ll make sure. Those were a common brand sold in most hardware stores and just about every Wal-Mart, Lowe’s or Home Depot. It’d be near impossible to trace where it was purchased or stolen.”
Dan urged, “Let me know when the reports come in, Henri. I’m going on the assumption that this is the same person. Now, we just need to find out who and why. Yeah, I know, that’s our job. Think you’ll have the reports in by Thursday?”
Henrietta nodded. “I’ll put a rush on it and call you as soon as I get them. Good luck, Dan, Mory. You’re going to need it on this one.”
“Don’t I know it,” Dan exclaimed as he peered out the window and saw James Starr leaning against his car. Starr saw him and waved, then snapped Dan’s picture through the glass. He noticed the TV media hadn’t arrived yet.
“Looks like our friend is back on the scene. I wonder how he knew about this one. Truman’s mother just called the station thirty minutes ago. Luckily, we were just down the road at the driving range when the call came in. Neighbors haven’t even realized something’s happened over here. He must be listening to the police radio. I think we should issue a code word to be used if we have another similar murder. That way, Starr won’t know what’s happened. If he shows up again, we’ll know he’s closer to this case than we believed, or we have a serious leak.”
Henrietta reasoned, “There are sympathizers all over the city, Dan. Anyone could be giving Starr information. People are scared and they see this Avenger as correcting some of what’s wrong with the justice system. You know and I know what could happen if this guy goes really nuts, but he’s been very methodical to date. He’s made sure the victims were alone and hasn’t left any tell tale clue so far. No fingerprints or hair or fibers of any kind. The only thing we have is the DNA from his semen. It’ll prove he did it, if we can find him. He must believe we can’t since he’s leaving that type of evidence behind after being so careful with everything else. Maybe it’s a taunt or challenge. Maybe he knows he’s not in the system, or he’s in a position to delete or alter his data. He must be stupid, cocky or psychotic. Somehow, I don’t think the first one describes him.”
“We have to get to him before Starr evokes some partners or copycats. The justice system is supposed to take care of these rapists, not the common citizen. Murdering someone does not correct the original wrong or make it right for him to do it.”
“I know, Dan,” Henrietta paused. “But people are thinking with their hearts and not their heads when it comes to something like this. The statistics say that one in eight women is attacked. And that’s just the reported cases. I’d venture to say that in every American family, a woman has suffered at the hands of some beast. This brings the issue home and not out in left field somewhere. The female victims have been young, attractive, and very brutally tortured before and after their rapes. They look like anyone’s sister, mother, aunt, cousin, or girlfriend. This type of crime is too close for people to see clearly. To lots of people and certainly to victims who didn’t get their justice, this must seem like necessary evil, pure and simple.”
Dan grimaced and replied, “We need to catch this guy before they vote him in as President.”
“Well, let’s get busy and unmask him. I just need a few more minutes here.”
Dan nodded at Henrietta, then glanced out the window at Starr. He didn’t mind someone reporting the news, but he didn’t want the lives of these women, already torn apart, to be publicly displayed for anyone’s macabre sense of curiosity. Dan hoped one of the women’s family members didn’t try to take it upon themselves to stop Starr from publishing the details of the women’s stories. That would be a lesson Starr wouldn’t want to write about, Dan thought. At least TV news showed restraints with the details. But they had restrictions on what they could say and show on air.
“What are you thinking?” Mory asked.
“How the Avenger might stop Starr from printing another article about him,” Dan replied. “Although, I think, right now our perp is probably enjoying the attention and admiration he’s receiving. Could be feeding his crazy ego. Could be encouraging him to commit more crimes than he first intended.”
“Well, he’s certainly read the articles,” Henrietta spoke behind them.
“How do you know that?” Dan asked as he turned to face her.
Henrietta was holding a Ziploc bag by the edge as she motioned to the paper inside and held it out for Dan. “He left you a note.”
Dan carefully took the item from Henrietta. She’d already sealed the bag for testing once it was at the lab. He knew Harold would be checking for fingerprints and any evidence that might have been left behind. Dan prayed they would find something, anything, but knew in his gut there wasn’t much luck of that. The note read:
“The Bible says, “If men strive, and hurt a woman...
He shall be punished. Thou shalt give life for life.
Eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand,
Foot for foot, Burning for burning,
Wound for wound, stripe for stripe.”
I say, “Heaven and victims raged
As another beast was set free.
Taking an eye for an eye was left up to me.
If Justice is blind or her hands are bound,
Rejoice, Good Citizens, for I am around.”
It was signed The Avenger in typed print. Clearly the attacker had gotten the idea from the reporter and his sensational news stories. Or was it the other way around? Was the reporter capitalizing on his articles and supplying the crimes?
Monday morning, June 25th
Dan still hadn’t made it home for a shower and shave and he was feeling the worse for it. Except for a couple of catnaps at his desk, he had been up most of the night reviewing Susan Ames’s file. Only sixteen at the time of the vicious rape, so no surprise she had been unable to testify to the Grand Jury and help them put away that animal on trial and in prison. No choice but to release Truman after his lawyer used the precedent a defendant must be able to face his accuser in court. Poor girl just couldn’t do her part, so the judge was compelled to dismiss the charges against Truman. Dan knew Susan had been burned on her buttocks and legs with a hot curling iron even before he’d pulled the file to study it. There was no doubt now, the killer had set a serial pattern: punish unconvicted and violent rapists using their own MO against them.
Who was this vigilante? Why was he doing this? What had set him off like a bomb? Was he one of the female victim’s loved ones? Was he insane? Did he have a warped sense of wanting justice? Was it for publicity? How and where did he get the KCL? How did he meet and disable his victims? How did he select them? How did he know the details of the men’s cases, as some evidence wasn’t revealed to the general public or in court? Where and how did he gather his facts and accusations?
There were no signs of Breaking and Entering, so how did the attacker get inside the victim’s homes? What trick, lie or disguise was used, because he couldn’t know all of them? How did he overpower mostly strong men? The Avenger had to be strong, smart, cunning, daring and dangerous. And heartless or crazy to torture and murder anybody. Not to mention the sexual assault. Was it an inside job, someone wit
h access to police or court files on all cases? Could it be a cop, a detective, a lawyer, a judge, a nosey reporter, a female victim’s loved one, someone in the police or crime labs, someone in the District Attorney’s office? Who had motive, means, opportunity and that much hatred? How could he be unmasked and trapped? When would he make a costly mistake?
Those questions and others ricocheted through Dan’s head as he tried to figure out his next step. Even if the Avenger’s motives were misguided, he was as much of a criminal as his victims were. He and Mory needed to check out everybody connected to the original cases with the female rape victims, no matter which side of the law they were on. Of course, if there was a certain target among the male victims, maybe he hadn’t been killed yet. Or maybe he had and the other vics were covers. Perhaps it was someone who was tired of justice failing and had started his vigilante spree with violent abusers of women. Or it could be a religious nut who was trying to dole out Biblical punishment as the note hinted. Whoever was to blame, he had to make an eventual slip, and Dan intended to be there to catch him.
Sixteen. That number kept coming back to his mind. He had been eighteen when he’d been drafted into the army to fight in Vietnam. Dan still remembered fifteen-year-old Stevie Rooks, the blond-haired, blue-eyed boy who’d lied about his age so he could fight the “bad guys”. The image of young Stevie lying on the ground—his shirt and pants burnt into the charred flesh on his arms and legs, his blue eyes shrieking their pain and terror, blood oozing down the side of his head, and the continuous high-pitched scream which escaped his lungs—caused Dan’s throat to constrict with barely leashed emotions. Stevie had swallowed a bullet in the makeshift ambulance that was transporting him to the hospital. It shouldn’t be this way, Dan thought. They were practically children, for God’s sake! What kind of beast could commit such evil acts, even upon men accused and probably guilty of the same vile deeds?
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