Branded for Murder (11 page)

Chapter 28

He stared at a sketch of him in today’s newspaper. The article talked about him being wanted for questioning in a rape case, and possibly in connection with the
New England Strangler
cases.

“Son of a bitch,” he said, out loud. Then he looked around to see if anyone noticed. He was sitting on a park bench, but no one was close enough to hear him. He was going to have to be careful near people for the next few days while this sketch was fresh in their memory. He was glad they don’t get the paper at home. If his wife saw the sketch there was enough of a resemblance to prompt some discussion.

He could feel the rage as he read the article. Although the column didn’t indicate the specific case…
he knew
. There was only one rape where he left the woman alive. She had obviously tricked him by playing along, but she finally went to the cops.

He could feel his heart beating in his ears. His breathing was rapid. He recalled their time together…he and Mrs. Stevens.
She was good. She was too good.
He should have known it was too good to be true.
Why had he let her live? You damn fool.

He considered his options. He knew where she lived, having passed her apartment several times, wondering if he should stop and visit. He would certainly have enjoyed the visit, but he never did. The memories of the time he spent with her were enough.
So, should I stop in and make you pay for talking to the police?
He knew it was too late, judging from the sketch in the paper. It could also be a trap, if he were to go anywhere near her apartment.
You silly girl, but you were smarter than all the others…that is until now.

He could alter his appearance, making it harder for anyone to recognize him.
Yes, that’s what I need to do, but it will take a few days to grow a mustache.
He would just have to be extra careful for the next few days. He looked at the people who passed by on the sidewalk, but none of them seemed to be looking at him. He needed to stay out of public places for the next few days.

He considered walking home, but it was several miles away. He realized he would still need to use the subway to get home. He would just have to hide his face to keep people from seeing how closely he resembled the sketch. He could feel rage building again at Patricia.
I thought you deserved to live, but now I know you shouldn’t be alive. If you were here I could crush you to death…strangling is too slow for you.
He recalled her naked image and their time together.

Several minutes later he realized he had crumpled up the newspaper, looking around to see if anyone had noticed him or what he had done. There was no one around him. He folded what was left of the paper, went over to the trash can and deposited it. He knew what he was going to do.
Patricia you very naughty girl, some other young lady is going to pay for your stupidity…not tomorrow, but right now.

*.*.*

Leaving the park area, he walked up one of the side streets, which had apartment buildings on upper floors and shops located on the first floor or in the walk-downs. It wasn’t too long before he spotted a pretty young thing coming out of a dress shop with a small shopping bag. He was not that close, but from where he was he could see her bare legs accented by her high heels. Her skirt didn’t cover much and her coat only covered the top of her skirt. He followed her at a safe distance. She stopped to window shop. He did the same so as not to get too close to her.

She never looked behind her, or she would have noticed him following.
You should be more careful about who’s near you. I’ll have to bring that up to you when we’re together.
He could feel his anticipation building, heightened by the aroma of her perfume left behind at one of her stops.

He wasn’t exactly sure how he was going to gain access to her apartment…he could only think about being with her.
He would make her pay for Patricia’s stupidity.
He looked over to where she had been standing, now only a shop away. She was gone. He looked around and she had vanished. He even looked across the street to see if she crossed. She must have gone inside the store. He stared at the store display, where they sold women’s fancy nightwear. He could see the manikin’s body through the sheer fabric.
Maybe I should buy one of these for you my sweet.

He heard the shop door close. Spotting the girl resuming her walk along the brick sidewalk, he noticed she had another bag in her hand. Now he knew what he was going to do, and how he would gain access to her apartment.

He stepped inside the shop where she had just departed. A bright-red silk scarf caught his eye. He quickly paid for his purchase, ignoring the clerk’s attempt at conversation, and rushed out of the shop bag in hand. Looking for his prize, he noticed her only a few shops away, still taking her time.
I couldn’t buy you a nightgown, but you will look good in this scarf.

He studied her seductive walk.
You’re doing this for me…aren’t you Patricia?
He could feel his breathing increase as she climbed the steps to a small apartment building and casually entered.

Not more than a few minutes later, he noticed three mailboxes in the lobby. The two end boxes had mail in them, and the middle one marked J. Sullivan had no mail. He turned the inner-entry door knob, surprised it wasn’t locked. He entered the small foyer area, starting up the stairs quietly. He took a deep breath, smelling her perfume in the air.

Soon, he was standing outside her apartment door. She was moving around inside, but there were no voices.
Good she lives alone…but not for long.
He looked at the name on the bag he was carrying ‘
Sweet Memories.’
Smiling at the appropriate name, he held it in front of him and knocked softly on her door.

Chapter 29

It was late when I entered my apartment. Mike and I had enjoyed our time together, but I never did talk with Lisa. I had no way of knowing whether she had called or not. I considered calling her again, but it was too late and I didn’t think I could see her at this hour.

I recalled how Maggie behaved at the pub the other evening, in comparison to how she behaved when Mike brought up Ms. Gomez. It took her a few minutes to get back to her old self. I wondered if she could be a future victim. If she greeted all customers the way she greeted Mike and me, she could be asking for trouble.

I thought about her small stature and ample cleavage. I considered what she might look like at the club. I wondered if the killer had spotted Gomez dancing at the club, followed her and strangled her. He must have been in the club. Mike needs to bring the sketch over there to see if any of the other dancers recognize him.
I wondered if I could even enter a place like that with Mike. I know I would feel self-conscious. I can’t even control my complexion talking with Maggie. Well, she wasn’t talking with me when she had her hand on my leg.

It wasn’t long before I was thinking of Lisa again. I closed my eyes, recalling every moment of our time together from the first dance to the final shower.

*.*.*

I had a great night’s sleep, and was ready to tackle the world. The last thing I remember before falling asleep was Lisa. I wondered if she was mad because she couldn’t reach me.
What if she’s mad at me for what happened at my apartment?
She couldn’t be mad at me about that, not the way she acted while we were together.
What if she thought I was just using her? What if one of her girlfriends told her I was just out for her body? What if nobody told her I called?
Mike’s voice interrupted my thoughts.

“Good morning Scott. Did you have pleasant dreams last night?” he said, almost whispering.

“Good morning Mike. I did sleep well last night,” I answered but I could tell he wanted to tell me something important.

“Well Scott, we have another strangling, and we just came back from the scene. This time it was an apartment near Boston Common. Another young woman, Jean Sullivan was killed yesterday afternoon. Her boyfriend discovered her body when he came home from work. It looks like the same guy that killed the others. This time he left her partially covered with a silk scarf draped on her body in the form of the letter S.”

I thought about the timing of this and the last strangling. “He’s on a killing rampage. He’s not waiting many days before he kills another victim. Do you think the sketch in the paper prompted an attack this soon?”

Mike drummed his notebook against his fist, taking a noticeable breath. “Who knows? Maybe he was upset his face was in the paper? Maybe he wanted to get to Mrs. Stevens and settled on someone else?” He sat down on my side chair with a frown on his face.

I studied him, not saying anything. In the short time I’ve been connected with the task force, it’s hard to think about all of the crimes against women.
How many others were committed and we never heard about them. How does someone like Mike or any other detective, deal with this on a day-to-day basis? Will I be able to? What will it be like prosecuting men like this?

“Do you want to go for a ride?” he asked.

I thought about him taking me to the strangling scene, and I wanted to say no. “What do you have in mind?” I said, my voice shaking. I could tell he was trying to read me again.

“No Scott, it’s not the crime scene. Things are pretty much wrapped up there. We might have a potential lead.”

He had my interest now. “Sure, what do we have?”

“Jean Sullivan purchased several items before she was killed. The items were still in the bags along with the sales slips. The silk scarf that was draped on her body looked new, and it was not listed on either sales slip. Her boyfriend had never seen it before. Maybe this creep brought it with him. We believe she was also strangled with it, and then used to partially cover her.”

I thought about what a mistake this guy might have made. “I’m ready if you want to leave now.” I was ready to bolt to my coat, but Mike just sat there with a smile on his face.

He announced, “You’re really starting to like this stuff aren’t you?”

Thinking about my earlier concerns, I wondered if I could do this every day. “Mike, I guess I just want to catch this creep. How old was Ms. Sullivan?”

“She was just twenty-one.”

While we were both moving toward our coats, I thought about Lisa.
She could have been the one killed just as easily as Ms. Sullivan. What if she were the victim…what would I ever do? How can I possibly keep her safe?

*.*.*

Mike had the two store addresses. They were about fifteen minutes away. We parked near the first store. I watched Mike question the owner and several other clerks, about Ms. Sullivan’s purchase. One of the clerks remembered her. She had purchased a dress, but it needed to be altered. She came in yesterday to pick it up. The clerk shared with us that she had been envious about Ms. Sullivan’s looks and figure. However, she now had second thoughts about that. She had not seen the man in the sketch, and there had been no other customers in the store at the time.

We went to the next store, hoping for better results. Mike showed the clerk his identification and told her what we were investigating.

“Oh my God that’s awful,” she cried, when Mike told her Ms. Sullivan was strangled yesterday. The clerk looked like she was going to faint, so Mike guided her to a nearby chair.

After she recovered Mike asked, “Then you waited on Ms. Sullivan yesterday?”

She didn’t immediately respond. “Jean, Ms. Sullivan, comes in here at least once every two weeks. She’s a regular customer…or was, and I can’t believe she was murdered.”

Mike continued. “We have a few questions to ask you. Are you up to it?”

Holding her throat, she replied, “I’ll be alright. Just give me a minute to catch my breath. I can’t believe she’s dead.” She bowed her head and started crying. Mike offered her his handkerchief, motioning me to follow him.

We walked around the store. Mike stopped in front of a rack of silk scarves.

“What Mike?”

He pointed to the rack in front of us, looking back at the clerk who still had her head bowed. “This scarf looks like the one used to strangle Ms. Sullivan,” he whispered touching the pretty red scarf on the rack.

Shortly we went back to the clerk, who had gained her composure. Mike asked again, “Can you answer some questions for us now?”

She wiped her eyes, standing up to talk with Mike. “Sure, I’ll be okay now. It was just a shock. Nobody I ever knew has been killed like that. What can I tell you?”

“We found a bag with a sales slip indicating Ms. Sullivan came in here yesterday and purchased some silk panties. Is that correct?”

“Yes she did, she bought three pairs. Two were black and the other bright blue.”

“By any chance have you ever seen this man?” He handed the sketch of Ms. Stevens’ attacker to the clerk. She went white in front of us, her eyes rolling back and started to collapse. Mike grabbed her before I could, guiding her into the chair.

“Scott, see if there’s a restroom and bring me a wet paper towel please.”

I rushed to the back of the store, finding the restroom. I grabbed a paper towel and ran cool water on it, and dashed back to Mike. “Here you go.”

Mike held it to her forehead. She gradually recovered. He waited a few minutes for her to gain some color. “I take it you saw this man?”

She held her throat again, taking a deep breath before answering, “Yes, he came in right after she did and bought a red silk scarf. I tried to talk with him, but he just paid for it and left quickly. Do you think that man was her killer?”

“I’m afraid so. We want to talk to him about another case from several years ago. Is there anything you would like to tell us about this man?”

She thought for a moment and then answered, “He doesn’t look like a killer. He looked well groomed and was quite handsome. I thought he might be buying the scarf for his wife.”

“Now that you saw him is there anything in the sketch you would change or add?” Mike asked.

Holding the sketch, I could see her hand shaking. “No. It looks like him just the way it is. Do you think this is the guy who is strangling all of these women?”

Mike looked at her, then at the sketch. “I would say with Ms. Sullivan’s murder yesterday and his coming in the store immediately after her…it’s him.” Mike slapped at the sketch and the clerk jumped. “I don’t think he will be back in this neighborhood, and definitely not in this store. You don’t have anything to worry about. Is there anything else you can tell us about this man?”

She thought for a few seconds, responding, “Well, his hands looked like they were very rough, but they were clean. The silk scarf he handed me to ring up, stuck to a couple of his fingers. I tried to strike a conversation with him, but he left quickly without saying anything.” She looked like she wanted to add or ask something. “Were the panties Ms. Sullivan purchased still in the bag?”

Mike looked at her for a second or two and then answered, “No. The bag was still on a table with the sales receipt inside, but it was empty. I would guess he took them with him.”

“What about the pretty scarf he bought?”

“He left it behind,” Mike answered.

I realized he could have shared more of what happened with the scarf. Obviously the clerk didn’t need to know those details. She would have been more upset if told the details. Mike thanked her, leaving the sketch behind for the owner and clerks. He also left his card should she recall anything else.

*.*.*

When we were seated back in Mike’s car, I asked, “So Mike, what happens next?”

He didn’t start the car, but turned to face me. “Well, Scott it’s obvious he was in the store, purchasing the scarf used to strangle and pose Ms. Sullivan. The clerk confirmed his sketch to be a close resemblance, and the perpetrator of these killings. That’s real progress. However, even though we know what he looks like, we still don’t know who he is, or where to find him. I would speculate that Ms. Sullivan was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I bet he saw the sketch in the newspaper.”

I thought of my cousin Jackie, wondering how she had been selected.
Jackie we’re getting closer to finding your killer. We know what he looks like. I considered sharing with Mike about my cousin being one of the strangling victims.

Mike interrupted my thoughts. “So Scott, tell me about what you’re thinking?”

I stared at Mike without saying a word.

Mike started the car, adding, “You told me you met someone special, but you never told me anything about her. I can keep a secret you know.” Mike pulled out into traffic and I knew we were heading back to the task force office.

I was glad Mike asked about her, rather than what I was thinking about telling him. I thought he could read my mind about my cousin, but I guess it had no connection. “I met this special girl, Lisa Anderson the day President Kennedy was shot. Actually, I had seen her several times at the Chase library, where I sometimes go to study. We finally talked with each other when we learned about the President. She is everything I have been waiting for. We spent some time together since last week, but we seem to be missing each other lately.”

He turned briefly to look at me and smiled, but didn’t say anything.

I felt uncomfortable rambling on about her. This was not how I wanted him to hear about her.

“You know Scott, I met my wife in a similar manner at college. We were both in the same physics class and were teamed up for some laboratory experiment together. I can’t even remember what it was, but it took us several attempts to successfully complete it. I may have, and I emphasize I
may have
, blown the experiment to spend more time with her. It was either that, or I couldn’t think straight when I was with her. That was over fifteen years ago, and she still makes my heart flutter when I’m with her.”

“Thanks for sharing that.” I knew he didn’t need to tell me anything about his personal life, but he did. “Mike…something is bothering me and I need to get it out in the open.”

He smiled again and offered, “If it’s about Maggie you don’t need to say anything more.”

“No Mike it’s not about Maggie. What I want to tell you before it goes much longer is this.” I took a deep breath, still wondering if I was doing the right thing. “It’s about one of the earlier strangling cases, the Jackie Russell one.”

“I remember it. What about it?”

I considered again what I was about to do and added, “She was my cousin.” As soon as the words left my mouth I could feel the tears welling in my eyes and I looked out my side window.