Wendy, sitting down next to
Billy and playing with one of the pups said, “Let’s assume this
would be his last stop. Fossil that is. From what you are saying
Billy,” as she looked at him, “Fossil is a very small town with
only three ways in or out. He’s practically left him no escape
route. Could this be his where he meets his demise? What I mean is,
we now have the ‘Catch’ and if McMinnville is ‘Me’ and Fossil is
‘If’ and ‘Can’ is in California, the game is up, over finished and,
think about it, Fossil is a perfect metaphor for his ending.”
Silence except for the kitchen and the pups growling while playing
with Billy. Steve was all ears and stood up taking his sport coat
off as the wood stove was putting out a lot of heat, or was it his
belief that it might soon be over.
“Clean the area,” was heard
from the kitchen as dinner was ready. Sujin sat down with not her
usual grace from the bulge in front of her with Brad. Billy put the
pups outside with Sandy and washed up in the kitchen while joking
with the old Korea lady saying what lovely skin she had, holding
his stark white skin against her brown arm. No more talk as they
enjoyed the Korean food and side dishes.
After dinner a relaxed time
as they looked over maps and played devils advocate back and forth
next to the wood stove while the storm increased outside. Billy had
his lap top and was e-mailing his friends who continually searched
for possibilities into the night. Steve left to make a phone call
or two and Mike headed home to his farm and Julie. Sujin took a hot
bath soaking in the tub rubbing her stomach that now stuck out of
the water if she arched her back. She closed her eyes and thought
about after they had flown out of the mountains and made their
relationship bloom on the beaches of India.
For the first few weeks they
did nothing but sleep and wait for his leg wound to heal. India had
good doctors and soon he was moving around like his old self. No
running, doctors’ orders that would come later, so they swam in the
ocean and ate good food. They had a beach bungalow under some
coconut trees and when they weren’t swimming they talked. She
talked about her family and he did the same. By the end of the
first month they were lovers and best friends. She found him very
sensitive and a caring person. She knew it wasn’t false because his
eyes would betray him if he lied.
Then by the end of the
second month they flew by military plane to Guam and from there
after a medical check up, they flew to Washington DC. Sujin
remembered vividly meeting Steve the first time. He was as gracious
as he was honest. He and Brad were tight and shared an honest and
frank relationship. A month later a team was formed and the rest is
history, as she laid in the tub thinking about the new life growing
inside her.
Brad came in just about the
time she was nodding off. He sat on the side of the large tub which
had a power jet for tight muscles when needed. She looked up at him
through her almost black eyes and said, “Do you think we will catch
him?”
“Yes, I think we stand a
better than even chance of nailing him in McMinnville, but
something is bothering me and I can’t put my finger on it. Somehow
I think it is a trap of sorts, but don’t know how to explain how I
feel. Early in the morning I will go for a run and see if shakes it
out after a heart pounding run to the jetty. Nancy is leaving
tomorrow for Portland. She will take care of a lot of details and
with only a few weeks to prepare, she needs the time. We will do
the publishing work at the event and find the expertise to give the
historical look at the giant plane made of wood. Other than that,
we just sit and wait for the pumpkin day,” as he stripped down to
join her in a hot bath, and some other things that needed
attention.
Chapter 19
Sitting in the truck stop’s
restaurant listening to truckers talking on the phones provided by
the establishment at the booths, the brother’s Mitchell sat talking
over a hot turkey sandwich. John had rented a room at the motel
adjacent to the truck stop. They would stay here until it was time
to make their move.
At the McMinnville airport a
flurry of activity was going on making preparations for the
upcoming Halloween day event for mostly Senior’s. Advertisements in
newspapers and even spots on television made the event become
popular. In addition the media added a warning to beware of someone
you didn’t know as the serial killer was still roaming free. The
Mitchell brothers smiled when they saw the ads on TV. The pickings
would be good and the more people there the better to hide among,
was their thinking.
Down on the coast the team
spent most of their time discussing the case and or on the beach
either rock climbing, running or just walking. Sujin was feeling
left out as she would stay home this time around. Nancy had kept
them informed on a daily basis and agent Jones was on location
representing the team. Billy continued his research and nothing new
came up.
Now was show time. The
actors were in place and on the morning of Halloween, Brad’s teams
were in disguise as grounds keepers going around in an electric
golf cart tending the trash. Billy was in the FBI van tucked into a
hanger behind a false wall monitoring the traffic coming in or
going out. Security was tight and a life size picture of John was
prominently displayed at the entrance warning all visitors to be
careful.
Paul Mitchell waited in
line to enter the airport under the assumed name of an ID John had
given him. A driver’s license was included. His disguise was simple
and effective having been shown how to do it many times over before
the day to leave for the airport. The day before John had left for
Fossil and he spent the night in The Dalles, Oregon just off the
I-84 freeway next to the Columbia River. Next day at ten am he sat
in Fossil at the local café drinking coffee and reading the
newspaper dressed like a tourist going elk hunting up in the area
of the Columbia Basin.
His story was fact finding
as he was new to the area and heard that Fossil old timer’s knew
the ways to hunt what the Indians called the elk: ‘The wily ghost.
’ He knew there must be lots of road hunters and coffee hunters
hanging around the local cafes swapping lies. By noon he struck
gold as two old timers came in looking fresh from Portland with new
hunting clothes on from head to foot. Time for another two for one
sale, he thought.
At the airport in
McMinnville, every car that entered was checked for how many
occupants and all ID’s were checked. Each license plate was checked
against their registration. The FBI van was logged into a main
frame so checking the license plate against the registration was
fast and efficient. Cameras from both sides and front recorded each
passenger and it were noted how many in each vehicle.
It was Paul’s turn to pass
through the checkpoint and had his license and registration ready
as the sign said. The security guard was friendly and to Paul, it
seemed easy as the security guard barely looked at the license and
registration. However, he was fooled as the guard was FBI and quick
to check the details in front of him. It was a ruse to make the
Senior Killer feel that the security was lax, but in fact is was as
tight as a bow string on a fiddle. Paul parked where the parking
attendant, also an FBI agent directed him to. Paul put on a
baseball that had a picture of a Boeing 747 on the front and if
anyone was to guess his age, somewhere in the early sixties was his
appearance. He locked his car looking around the large area and
large signs pointed the way to start the tour from. A roped off
area and a booth was manned by another FBI agent who sold tickets
for entry and a brochure schedule of events and times. Paul thought
this was going to be fun and he couldn’t wait to see the giant
Spruce Goose.
After buying his ticket he
looked at the people around him and saw lots of old folks mixed
with parents of kids at the show. Paul looked up at the cloudy sky
and saw a bi-plane with a large banner streaming behind it
advertising the event. No rain was forecast, but cloudy skies and
fairly warm temperatures for the end of October made the event seem
very nice for Paul and his potential victim. For the next hour he
wandered around walking like an old man like he practiced time and
time again at the motel with his brother. The main event with the
speaker was set for one pm and hundreds of chairs sat to the side
of the giant plane with a large platform for the speaker to address
the crowd from. Paul looked at his watch and saw it was just eleven
am. Now was the time to seek out a senior who was alone and not so
grouchy looking to talk planes with.
Senior Killer John sat
watching the two guys having lunch and a map of the area talking
hunting elk and where they might go. John had the same map and he
quickly looked for a remote road to take these two hunters into the
hills for a last look at Nature before they made their way to the
happy hunting grounds, as he laughed to himself. This was going to
be too easy and thought about his brother and him doing it at the
same time. What would the stupid FBI and that Batt Team think of
this turn of events? He thought as he folded up his map and made
ready to walk out of the café following the two old gents to their
vehicle. He subconsciously felt his Marlin spike next to his leg in
its holster and a small 32 caliber handgun if the two gents needed
a little persuasion to not fight the inevitable outcome: death at
the hands of Senior Killer John.
The two old timers finished
their lunch and one went to pay the bill while the other one waited
at the door for him. John followed suit and waited while the older
looking of the two paid the bill and when he turned to leave he
smiled said hello. John paid his bill and followed them out the
door to the parking lot next to the street. He saw a new Suburban
with a camp trailer attached to the back of the vehicle. Nice set
up, he thought. John quickened his pace and said, “Hold up a minute
guys, I see you have the same map I do,” as he held him up for them
to see. The older of the two was standing at the passenger door
while the other was preparing to get in. Wordless they waited for
the hunter to approach and John could see a wary look in the old
guy’s eyes. “Have you guys hunted this area before?” He
asked.
“No we haven’t,” the younger
one said. “This is our first time in this area, but we have hunted
down in the John Day area before. We thought we might drive around
and find a place to camp out and look the country over.”
John felt he had them and
continued with a friendly smile, “I was going to do the same thing,
but my partner failed to show up and now I was kind of looking for
someone to hunt with,” he said with downcast lonely eyes appealing
to the pity.
The younger one looked at
the old guy and the older man shrugged his shoulders saying it was
fine by him if this guy wanted to tag along. So it was decided John
would lead the way up a road he saw and had been on in the years
past. John got into his SUV that was packed with all the things
necessary to look like a hunter in the back. They drove out to
highway 19 and headed down towards the southeast which is known as
the John Day highway. About five miles out of town John spotted the
road he had marked on his map and turned left with the two victims
following him. His excitement grew as they wound their way uphill
into the mountains. About an hour later on top of a mountain, in a
grove of pine trees a nice camping place sat vacant. John pulled in
and the suburban followed. John stood by his SUV while the two guys
jockeyed their camp trailer into a nice spot. After unhooking the
two guys told John they would like to drive around looking the area
over now that they trailer was unhooked. They told their new friend
they had lots more room in their rig and how about John riding with
them. John jumped at the chance and soon they were driving slowly
on the narrow logging road with John in the passenger seat and the
older man in the back sitting behind him.
Back at the airport in
McMinnville, Paul had found an old timer who was there on his own.
He’d taken a bus to the event and lived in Newberg not so far way
on the highway to Portland. Paul was playing the role to the hilt
and excitement was mounting as he thought about sending the Marlin
spike his brother gave him up into the guy’s brain. He flashed back
at his last kill. He was chosen to kill their mother while father
was in town drinking at the tavern. They would tell father she had
run away, which she had threatened so many times before. Father
would beat the hell out them, but the mother would lay the wood of
a whip like branch she had placed by the old cook stove. It stung
like all get out and it raised welts like a strip dark red across
white skin. The plan was set on the day father went to the feed
store and to the tavern. It never failed when he came home to
choose one of them to beat the hell out of then made one of them
drop their pants while he stroked his member with pig fat and
abused one of the brothers.
A rage was building with
Paul and he fought the urge to lay waste to this guy right here in
front of the crowd. Old people were so mean and their words stung
like bee stings when they talked to young people. He agreed with
his brother that when a person reached sixty, time to pass on. He
was more than glad to help rid the senior population. Now his big
brother gave him his opportunity to begin his own career of killing
old folks