Tracking the Butcher

by William Joiner

  “That leads me to believe if he is in a relationship, his spouse will be a subservient woman with low self-esteem and low self-efficacy. Furthermore, the branding of the first victim found at Griffith Park indicates he is religious and believes he is guided by divine intervention, which is why he thinks you won’t catch him.”

  “That is a very detailed psychological profile, Lucas,” Elgie said.

  “Thank you, Lieutenant.”

  “The one thing you didn’t mention is will he kill more men? I assume he won’t.”

  “No, not men alone, but I think he was really turned on by the Haskell murders and was proud of the fact that he got away with it. He was proud enough that he called you and the media to see what he had done. He’ll definitely do it again. Unless we catch him.”

  “Okay, thanks for the information, Lucas.”

  “You’re welcome, Lieutenant.”

  Elgie headed to the unmarked patrol car with Detectives Bywater and McBean who had some questions.

  “Lieutenant, I was looking through your notes, and I don’t see where you asked the suspects for their alibis.”

  “That’s because I didn’t ask them for an alibi.”

  “Why not?” McBean asked.

  “Because the only attack where we know the time it happened is the attempted murder of Michelle Chambers. The other we don’t know what time she was killed. They would have to have alibis for the whole night or for midnight. It’s unlikely they’ll have alibis.

  “Besides, even if one of them did have an alibi that doesn’t mean he’s not the killer. The only way he could have a reliable alibi is if he was up all night until six o’clock the next morning with someone else. If there was someone else in their home, that person would have been asleep at some point, and he could sneak out, kill the girl, and slip back in.”

  “Do you have a suspect you think is more likely the killer than the rest?” McBean asked.

  “Actually, there’s two—the Butcher uses a knife. Only two had a knife, and that was the guy who plays the knife game—Alexander Deorader. And Alan Reader who claimed he thought a prostitute was trying to steal his wallet. Then again, Paul Rodson has a history of extreme violence against women.”

  “Yeah, I read about Deorader in your notes,” McBean said. “Did you verify that he really does scare the prostitutes and pay them based on how much they scream?”

  “Yes, we verified that the knife game is real and most of the girls on Sunset know about it. The ones that don’t know might scream anyway and get paid or if they don’t scream he explains the game and pays them anyway.

  “Here’s the thing with that, the knife game allows him to get girls into an alley and behind a dumpster of their own free will. He catches one away from the rest, and that’s the one he kills. Alexander Deorader was identified by the bartender at Jimmie’s in Hollywood, but not on the same night Barbara McMullen was there. But he placed himself thereby coming to me and claiming he saw Paul Rodson leaving with Mrs. McMullen. I think he’s our most likely suspect. He’s just so slippery and cool under pressure, just like the Butcher. But you know all that from the notes, McBean, so why are you asking?”

  “I just wanted some clarification. I think Alexander Deorader is the best suspect, and I wanted to know what you thought, that’s all.”

  Elgie, McBean, and Bywater arrived at the apartment building on Saturn Street around eight-ten to find that the Los Angeles County Coroner’s Office Investigator Andrew Long was already present.

  “Good morning, Lieutenant, I assume the gentlemen with you are from the task force.”

  “Yes, these are Detectives Jerome Bywater and Justin McBean. What’ve you got?”

  “Sir, there’s one man in the dumpster, badly beaten and stabbed twenty-two times. It looks like the Butcher has kept his threat and killed the person he said he would kill. You two haven’t been to one of the Butcher’s parties, have you?”

  They both said no.

  “I hope you guys have strong stomachs because he’s outdone himself this time. He really beat this man and not just on one side of his face. His whole face is swollen. Then there are the stab wounds; instead of stabbing creating the small knife injuries, he sliced the man like he was a piece of meat. That created more blood, and there’s plenty of it even though he wasn’t killed here. I haven’t checked him for identification yet. Oh, he has the handcuff marks just like the women.”

  The group went over to take a close look at the man’s body. He was as battered and bloody as Long said he was. Elgie bent over to take a look at the t-shirt the man was wearing.

  “Is his t-shirt red?” Elgie asked Long.

  “No, it’s white. I thought it was red too until I saw this area here,” Long pointed to a small half-inch area on the far side of the man’s t-shirt. “It’s the only place that’s not soaked with blood.”

  McBean and Bywater took a look at the body. Bywater took the first look, got sick, ran for the alley, and threw up. McBean walked up close to the dumpster to take a good look at the body and didn’t appear to be disturbed by what he saw.

  “It looks like the Butcher took his time with this one,” McBean said. “It seems like he was angry with this victim more so than he was with the female victims.”

  “How do you know what the other bodies looked like?” Elgie asked.

  “I looked at the crime scene photos,” McBean said. “But there’s nothing like getting a close-up look at the Butcher’s handy work.”

  “That doesn’t seem to be your partner’s experience,” Elgie said. “I’m going to go check on him—see how he’s doing.”

  When Elgie got to Detective Bywater, he had finished throwing up and was wiping his mouth with a napkin.

  “Do you always carry a napkin in case you throw up?” Elgie asked.

  “No, I just had this one from breakfast. I don’t like to throw anything away.”

  “Your partner seems to be handling it well. Perhaps too well, it’s weird.”

  “He’s been obsessed with this case since the first murder. He looks at the crime scene photos like he’s admiring the Butcher’s work. He doesn’t just look at them, he evaluates them. He looks at them longer than anyone else on the team, and that includes Doctor Brooks. I’m not even sure the coroner takes that close of a look at autopsy photos. It’s just like you said, weird.”

  “Well, there’s no law against being weird or for doing your job thoroughly, which is what he’s doing. We should go over and do the same. Are you ready?”

  “Yeah, I’m ready, sir.”

  When Elgie and Detective Bywater returned to the dumpster, Bywater stayed back but got close enough to see the body. Elgie thought he looked like he was going to be sick again but was able to rally his strength and work through his problem.

  “Investigator Long, would you check the body for identification?” Elgie asked.

  “Sure, just let me get to his back pocket.”

  Investigator Long grabbed the right side of the man’s pants and rolled him over on to his side, then reached into his back pocket and removed his wallet.

  “There you are, Lieutenant,” Investigator Long said. “Maybe there’s identification in it.”

  Elgie opened the wallet and found the man’s identification in the wallet’s display window.

  “The gentleman’s name is Kenny Wain,” Elgie said. “He resides at 1451 Acorn Street in West L.A. I think it’s near Brentwood. We’ll head over there when we’re finished here.”

  “Sir, shouldn’t we clear that with Lieutenant Gray before we follow up?” Bywater said.

  “Yes, of course. Would you call him, please?”

  “Sure, I can take care of that for you, Lieutenant.”

  Elgie, Long, and McBean put on gloves, lifted the body out of the dumpster, and placed it on a blue tarp.

  “He beat the head of this man far more than he did the women,” Detective McBean said. “It seems like the man did something to piss him off. He must have been knocked out
at some time during this beating and brought back around so the Butcher could continue his attack.”

  “I think you’re right,” Elgie said. “Do either of you have any thoughts on what could have made the Butcher so angry with this victim?”

  “What if this was a gay dude, and he touched the Butcher inappropriately?” Detective McBean said. “I know that would piss me off.”

  “I think that would explain the severity of the beating,” Elgie said. “It would also explain how he found the man to fulfill his latest threat. I think Lieutenant Gray was right, the Butcher probably went to one of the gay sexual encounter websites and looked for an ad indicating that the man was married. He probably had to check several sites before he found what he was looking for. That would mean the Butcher is homophobic, which means he probably won’t go after another gay or bisexual man.”

  “Yeah, he probably won’t want to mess with another gay person,” Detective Bywater said, “after he was touched inappropriately, like you said, Justin.”

  “Did you get in touch with Lieutenant Gray?” Elgie asked.

  “Yes,” Bywater said, “he says he’ll send Detective Kim to follow up on Mr. Wain. He wants us back in the office.”

  The SID evidence collection team showed up with Doctor Julian Brooks acting as collection coordinator in conjunction with his role with the Butcher Task Force. Doctor Brooks was well known and respected throughout the state because he was the highest-ranking black person in forensic science and was the youngest Chief Criminologist in California. Elgie had never met Doctor Brooks before seeing him at the task force meeting. Elgie thought Doctor Brooks was probably a small guy with glasses—that wasn’t the case. Doctor Brooks was as tall as Elgie if not taller and was in very good shape. He was thin and muscular. Elgie thought he must work out on a regular basis. He wondered how he found the time with a demanding job like his. Elgie went over to speak to him before he began evidence collection.

  “Doctor Brooks, do you have a minute?”

  “Sure, Lieutenant Reynolds, what can I do for you?”

  “Did you find anything on the clothes of the woman they found in Griffith Park?”

  “Yes, we found some hairs that didn’t belong to the victim, and they have roots. When you guys find a suspect, we can do a DNA test and know if you have the right man.”

  “That’s good news—what about the burial spot, find anything there?”

  “No, nothing so far, we have to evaluate what we have. That will take some time, there’s a lot to go through. I’ll be doing a briefing on our findings at the task force meeting in the morning.”

  “I didn’t know anything about a meeting. I thought the meetings we’ve had so far where it unless Gray called another one.”

  “No, there’ll be a meeting every morning at seven, so we can go over the status of the investigation. Each detective will give a rundown on their assignments, or a play-by-play is the way Lieutenant Gray put it. The technical staff will present their findings as well. I’m sure you’re expected to be there. Lieutenant Gray must have just forgotten to tell you about it.”

  “Whether he forgot or not, I’ll be there,” Elgie said. “Hey, do you have anyone that evaluates audio recordings?”

  “No, not at SID, but they have one in the Forensic Investigation Unit. What did you need audio analysis for?”

  “There is a recording of the Butcher’s call to me, and I would like to know what type of equipment he’s using to alter his voice and if they can remove the distortion and find out what he really sounds like.”

  “Sounds good—I hope it works.”

  Elgie returned to detectives Bywater and McBean.

  “I heard what Doctor Brooks told you about the hair on the victim’s clothes,” McBean said. “Are you sure it belongs to the Butcher? I mean, she was a prostitute, she could have gotten that hair anywhere.”

  “I think there’s a good chance it’s the Butcher’s because it has the root,” Elgie said. “That’s not just a shed hair—It takes some force to get a hair with the root. She probably pulled his hair while she was trying to struggle and fighting for her life.”

  “Or it could be a trick that likes his hair pulled.”

  “That’s a possibility—we won’t know until we find the person the hair belongs to.”

  Elgie’s cell phone rang.

  “This is Reynolds.”

  “Lieutenant, this is Geraldo Lopez, we’ve received another letter from the Butcher.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Detectives,” Elgie said, “that was Geraldo Lopez at Channel Three News. They’ve received another letter from the Butcher. I had him put the letter in plastic, make a copy of it and fax me the copy. The original letter and envelope are being messaged to the task force office.”

  “Do you think there’s any chance of there being evidence on the letter?” Detective Bywater asked.

  “Are you kidding?” Detective McBean said. “The Butcher is smart, too smart to leave evidence like that. No DNA or fingerprints. That’s what happened the last time right, Lieutenant?”

  “Yes,” Elgie said, “but the last time the envelope and letter were handled by several people at the TV station. This time they knew what they had so it hasn’t gone through a multitude of hands. Only the mail person and Lopez have handled it—there’s a good chance we can get some evidence.”

  “I guess we’re going back to the office?” Detective McBean said.

  “Yes,” Elgie said, “as soon as I tell Doctor Brooks about this development.”

  Elgie told Doctor Brooks who said he would call Lieutenant Gray and tell him about the new letter and request that the letter is sent down to the SID lab for analysis as soon as they make copies of it for the task force members.

  “No need to worry about that,” Elgie said, “I can make copies from the fax, and Lieutenant Gray can send the original down to your lab.”

  When Lieutenant Gray got the word about the new letter from the Butcher, he called the task force staff to the office. Quinn and Lucas were already present. They were just waiting for Elgie to arrive with his copy of the letter since they had not received the original that was messaged from the television station. In the meantime, the staff members continued their work. The crime analysis was cross-referencing men who owned white pick-up trucks a year ago with arrests for solicitation of prostitution.

  Quinn was evaluating incoming tips that were overrun from the tip line due to tips generated by the previous day’s press conference. Lucas was refining the profile based on incoming information.

  When Elgie, McBean, and Bywater arrived ten minutes after the task force assembled. Elgie had stopped by his office to pick up the faxed copy of the letter and made copies for the task force members. He told Lieutenant Gray that he had called Geraldo Lopez while in the car to tell him not to read the letter on air until the task force evaluated it. He said he would hold off for their input. All the staff took seats at the conference table. Lieutenant Gray had Elgie read the note since it was addressed to him and the television station.

  Elgie took a deep breath. “Okay, here’s the letter. I’ll read it aloud, and I suppose we’ll discuss its contents.

  Hello, again Lieutenant Reynolds and all you folks out there in TV land. It’s me again, the Butcher. First a word to the public, I’m sure you have heard about the bodies in Griffith Park, I’d like to tell you kiddies that they haven’t found all the bodies in that spot. I’m going to give you a hint, gravediggers. I know you’ve found three and you’re looking for ten more. I also have some stashed in other places around the city. I practiced my vocation before presenting myself publicly.

  I would like to let you know that I had every intention of telling you about the first series of kills later, but you’ve beaten me to the punch. So, I’m going to let you know there was a string of murders that the public knows nothing about. They are unsolved, and I’m telling you now that I committed those crimes.

  If there had been a slow news day
, the viewers at home would have been treated to my work. But strangled whores are not a priority. Besides, it was only five of them. The rest of my practice was all stabbing. Oh, and a little hint Lieutenant Reynolds and Doctor Connors, it’s not twenty and two, it’s just twenty-two stab wounds. The only reason the first twenty are shallow is, so they survive for the entire show. Sometimes I have to use ammonia inhalant ampoules to keep them awake.

  The reason I use twenty-two stabs is that when I was strangling women, I had a dream that I stabbed a woman and I stabbed her, you guessed it, twenty-two times. That’s when I knew what my style was. Just like a musician has to practice and find out what he’s good at, what he likes, and picks a style of music that suits his desires and abilities. I have practiced my craft, it’s an art really, the way I do it.

  Anyway, I became an artist when I discovered what makes me happy and satisfied. That’s when I made my plan to reveal myself to the world, but first I needed to practice my new style, and when I had it perfected, I wrote my first letter announcing my acceptance of the name the Butcher. By the by, thank you for that, Lieutenant Reynolds. You know, before I forget I’d like to take this opportunity to welcome Lieutenant Gray and the new task force given the assignment to catch me. Good for you, but you’ll never catch me.

  You don’t stand a chance against superior intelligence. But it’s not that hard to be smarter than some dumb cop. No offense, Lieutenant Reynolds, I think you’re the exception which is why I call you. Too bad you’re not lead investigator, we could have had so much fun together. I’ll just have to come to see Lieutenant Gray and say hi. I won’t stab him like I did you, Lieutenant Reynolds. By the by, I didn’t mean to kill you or injure you as badly as you are. It was my intention to scare you a little bit by letting you know I knew where you live. I won’t stab Lieutenant Gray or his wife, or his two children. I am only interested in killing the ones I told you about in my last letter. Please refer to it for specifics. Before I forget, I’m going to give you something to help your profile, Doctor Connors. I beat that man as badly as I did because he tried to touch my penis—I sure hope you can say penis on TV. I’ve rambled on long enough. I’ve given you enough to chew on so I’ll say goodbye. Have a wonderful day.