Travesty, p.10
Travesty, page 10
“Back to the tie, boss. Maybe the killer has had counseling for anger issues and obsessions.”
Jack shook his head. “That’s too vague, Kate. Between the six counties, there are hundreds of men who have probably been to counseling for that very reason. It would consume too much of our time to chase that theory. He needs to be caught in the act, or somebody who might know a man who fits his description has to contact law enforcement.” Jack pointed at Kate, Clayton, Billings, and me. “Go home and get some sleep. We aren’t going to know anything until Lena finishes her report in the morning. Once that information, along with the sketches, is released to the press, all hell is going to break loose.”
I gritted my teeth and wished Jack wouldn’t have said that.
Chapter 29
The scent of dinner cooking filled the air. Matt’s stomach growled as he peeked out of his thin slice of space from inside the closet. He wasn’t sure when the best time would be to make his move.
I could kill her now, after dinner, while she’s watching TV, or when she’s in bed. One way or another, Marie Folley will die. Do I really want to hang out in this closet all night long?
He whispered as he opened the closet door wider. “Now is as good a time as any.” With the gloves still covering his hands, Matt slipped out of the closet and hugged the walls as he crept closer to the kitchen. He heard the water running. Marie had to be at the sink, which faced away from him. Feeling safe, he crouched down out of direct eye range and looked around the corner. Marie stood at the sink and hummed while she peeled potatoes. Matt slipped out of his shoes and approached her, step by quiet step. He pulled the tie from his pocket and wrapped an end around each hand. He had only three feet to go.
Marie looked out the window above the sink and watched as the sun began to set. The sky was painted in pink and orange hues. The reflection in the window made her drop the potato and peeler. Before she had a chance to turn, Matt swung his hands over her head and pulled her backward with the tie at her neck. Marie screamed and kicked then stomped his feet. It didn’t faze him. She reached over her head, her hands flailing wildly, and found his eyes. She jammed a thumb into each one, and he stumbled, cursing in pain. She had only a second to run, but before she reached the living room, he lunged and knocked her to the ground. The dull thud of skull against tile told Matt she wasn’t going anywhere.
“You better not be dead, bitch. I have plans for you tonight.” Matt rifled through the cabinet under the sink and found a roll of masking tape. “This shit won’t work.” He didn’t want to risk scouring through the garage, where he wouldn’t have eyes on her. He jerked her arms to her back and wrapped her hands with the tape, then did the same with her legs. He wound the tape around her head, covering her eyes and mouth, then carried her into the bathroom and lowered her into the tub. At the back of the house and in a slippery tub, she wouldn’t have the ability to escape before he found what he was looking for. Satisfied that she would stay put, Matt ran for the garage and began searching for something to bind her with.
“What the hell, don’t you have any duct tape, you idiot?” Matt ripped through shelves and boxes and found a quarter roll of electrical tape. He jammed that into his pocket. “Here we go. These will work.” He stomped back into the house with four bungee cords clenched in his hand. He’d improvise, but the job would get done. Marie Folley would witness her own death that night, up close and personal.
He grabbed a sturdy chair and centered it between the kitchen and living room then placed the bungee cords and electrical tape on the table. Back in the bathroom, Matt lifted the moaning Marie out of the tub and carried her to the chair. He dropped her onto it and lifted her chin. The swollen and bloody lump on her forehead led Matt to believe a concussion was likely. He slapped the side of her face.
“Wake up! There’s no way you’re getting off that easy. You aren’t sleeping through this.” Matt pulled the tape off her eyes and mouth, then walked to the kitchen and filled a glass with cold water. He turned back to Marie and tossed it in her face.
She gasped and sucked in a deep breath then flung her head back. It bobbed for a second then dropped onto her chest.
“There we go. You’ll come around soon enough.” Matt pulled off Marie’s socks and jammed one of them into her mouth. “That’s in case you decide to scream once you’re coherent.” He reached for a bungee cord from the table and wrapped it around Marie’s chest and secured the ends to each other behind the chair. Then he twisted another cord around her ankles and fastened the ends to the rear chair legs. He rocked the chair back and forth. She was secure. “Looks like you’re staying put for a while. I may as well eat your dinner since you started it, anyway.” He stopped and looked back as he walked to the kitchen. “Thanks, by the way. I know you’re a good cook. Remember when—” Matt paused and stared at her. “Never mind. You’re too out of it to remember anything.”
A half hour later with a plate full of boiled potatoes coated with butter and sour cream, along with two pork chops, Matt took a seat at the table and ate.
“Damn, this is good. I like the seasoning you sprinkled on the chops.”
Marie lifted her head and turned it in his direction. Her eyes blinked several times then widened. A look of recognition spread across her face.
“Yeah, it’s me, Matt. Long time no see, Marie. Last time we spoke was when you threw me under the bus and I got canned. I’m sure that day is etched in your mind, or isn’t it? Maybe you didn’t give two shits about having me fired. Don’t worry. I’m not just pissed at you. Tom will get what’s coming to him too.”
Marie screamed into the sock.
“What? I can’t hear you.” Matt grinned and took the last bite of the second pork chop. He wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve, put the plate in the sink, and returned to Marie’s side. He pulled an empty chair to within a few feet of her and took a seat. “Now, how cool is this?” He pulled the tie off the table and draped it across Marie’s head. She pulled away, afraid of his touch. “It’s yellow, your favorite color. See, even though I’m a guy, I still remember things. It’s time to have a little fun, payback one might say, for ruining my career, my life, and my marriage. Yeah, Jenna is dead. Tell her hi when you see her. No hard feelings, I hope.” Matt stood and weaved the tie around the back of Marie’s head, looped it once, then went around her head again. “There, nice and tight. Are you ready?”
She squirmed and tried to upend the chair.
Matt grabbed the teetering chair. “Nope, you aren’t doing that! Okay, here we go.” He wrapped an end of the tie around each hand and began pulling. He watched as Marie’s eyes bulged and raspy gurgling sounds came from deep within her throat. Her face turned red and looked ready to explode. She jerked left and right, bucking and writhing until her eyes rolled back and she went limp.
With gritted teeth, Matt pulled even harder for good measure and held it another minute. “There you go, bitch. How did that feel?” He released his grip and stared into her blank open eyes. “Are you dead?” He pressed two fingers against the artery at her wrist to feel for a pulse. “Humph, nothing. Guess you’ve decided to pay Jenna and Bill a visit after all.”
Matt went to the kitchen, washed the dishes, and put them away. He wondered whether an autopsy would show that Marie didn’t eat the pork chops and potatoes she had made for dinner. Dirty dishes left behind would have revealed that someone else had been in her house. Matt sat down on the couch and studied the map he had open on his phone. “Now, let’s find a good place to dump you.”
Chapter 30
I took my seat as Jack gave us a group nod. “Good morning, everyone.”
We responded and pulled out our notepads. That day wasn’t going to be one for joking and small talk. I could tell from Jack’s voice that he was all about business.
“Lena has given me the autopsy report for our Jane Doe. Surprisingly enough, the woman has been dead for a good three days, yet the water and fish haven’t done enough damage to warrant being submerged that long. There wasn’t any water in her lungs, meaning she was put in the lake postmortem.” Jack let out a long breath and continued. “The cause of death was obviously asphyxiation but not caused by the tie.”
Clayton frowned. “Come again?”
“Lena saw bruising on each side of the victim’s neck and under the chin. She likened it to the shape of fingers and thumbs. The Jane Doe’s hyoid bone was crushed. Lena believes the woman was strangled, killed, and the tie wrapped around her neck after the fact.”
“Do we know that to be the case with the other victims?” I asked.
“I don’t believe it was mentioned, but I have a call out to the MEs in the other counties. I’ll know more as the day goes on.”
“Why would that be relevant one way or another?” Billings asked. “The tie represents his signature. It doesn’t necessarily mean the victims were killed with it.”
“True, but since Bill Crandon doesn’t fit in with the killer’s ‘normal’ MO, then maybe strangulation by hand doesn’t either. The killer is mixing things up to throw us off balance, or there’s a copycat who’s using a get-out-of-jail-free card by blaming his murders on the necktie killer. Okay, back to our victim. Lena says she’s in her mid to late thirties, one hundred twenty-nine pounds, and stood five foot six inches tall. She had medium brown hair”—he looked around the table—“natural color, not dyed, brown eyes, and no obvious birthmarks or tattoos.”
“What’s the status on the victim sketches?” Kate asked.
“They’re all complete. We were only waiting for the autopsy report from Lena. All descriptions, locations, and sketches will be distributed to the outlets before the noon news airs. There’s one tip line number, but each county has a different number for the caller to press at the end. That means the caller is referring to the sketch of the victim found in that county. Remember, the victim can be from anywhere, and the caller may say the deceased resembles somebody they knew from who knows where, but they are referring to the person found in the county they are calling. That way, everyone is doing their part in answering tip line calls. Like I said last night, the leads will be updated hourly for all counties in the task force to see.” Jack glanced at his watch. “I’m meeting all of the leads in this investigation at the Milwaukee County Courthouse for a press conference at ten thirty. The locations of the bodies will be released, and what we have as far as our profile of the killer will be discussed, nothing more. The sketches and victim descriptions will go out on the television outlets and run on the noon, early, and late local news stations daily. Updates, if important enough, will be aired as breaking news. The scrolling banner with the tip line number will show up every time the case is televised. Any questions?” Jack gave us a raised eyebrow as he closed his folder.
“Are we supposed to answer phones or patrol the county?” I asked.
“Until the noon news runs the tip line number and descriptions, I want everyone on the roads except you. You’re manning the bull pen this morning. Once the news is over, the day shift deputies will take over patrol duties. The rest of you will answer phones and put out fires. Call me if it’s important enough. That’s it, people. I have to leave now.”
We exited the conference room, and I went to my desk. The rest of the crew gathered what was necessary and headed for the door. Kate looked at me sitting alone in the bull pen.
“Sorry you’re stuck here. I know how much you like being in the middle of things.”
I shrugged. “Nobody knows who they’re looking for, anyway.” I stared at desks full of paperwork that needed to be filed, and I dug in.
With a foot-deep stack of folders and four file cabinets open, I worked in the records room for the next ninety minutes. The doors were propped open so I could hear if a phone call came in. It was nearing ten thirty when I stopped, cocked my ear, and listened. A phone was ringing in the bull pen. I hoofed it back and saw the light blinking on my own desk phone. Nobody got connected to us directly without going through Jan or Peggy first unless we gave them one of our cards. I assumed it was that or one of my colleagues calling.
I took my seat and answered. “Washburn County Sheriff’s Office, Detective Monroe speaking. How can I help you?”
“Detective Monroe, it’s Tim Quarles.”
I was stumped. I didn’t remember who Tim Quarles was, and I was sure by my silence, he realized it too.
“I’m the guy from the mobile home park who told you about the dog digging behind my neighbor’s stinky garage.”
The image of handing him my card returned to my mind. “That’s right. How can I help you, Tim?”
“It’s been bugging me since I spoke to you yesterday.”
I doodled on a used envelope lying on my desk. “What part bothers you?”
“The fact that Matt said his dog died and then I found his dog digging in the very same spot that it was supposed to have been buried at. I haven’t seen his wife since last week either. The dog is running wild, I don’t know who’s feeding it, and I know Jenna would never treat her pet that way.”
“Have you asked your neighbor where his wife is?”
“No, he’s keeping scarce. I’ve only seen him twice in the last few days. The first time was Friday, when he was in the garage trying to get past the junk to uncover an old steamer trunk. I gave him a hand even though he didn’t seem to want it. I mentioned something about having his wife help out, but he said she had a sore throat and was lying down. The second time was Sunday when I confronted him about the odor coming from the garage area. That’s when he made up the story about the dead dog.”
“Hmm… none of that really makes sense, but I’m not feeling a criminal investigation is necessary. Why did he want to get at that steamer trunk in the first place?”
“To store stuff in, he said. That still doesn’t explain why the dog is loose and the wife is missing.”
“Mr. Quarles, you don’t know that the wife is missing. Maybe she’s still sick.”
“I know, and I even offered my mother’s help. She’s really into that herbalist stuff, and her remedies actually work. The Mellons’ don’t seem to have much, and my mom would have helped Jenna for free.”
“And Mr. Mellon didn’t accept your offer?”
“Not even close. He actually got mad that I suggested it.”
I tapped my pen on the desk and sighed. “Okay, give me Mrs. Mellon’s description. I’ll stop in later and see if she’s home. I’ll ask about the dog too.”
“Good, I’ve just had this weird feeling the last few days. Okay, so Jenna is tall—five sixish or so. She’s probably between one hundred twenty and one hundred thirty pounds—you know, proportionate. Um, she has medium-brown straight hair that just passes her shoulders. Oh, and she has a butterfly tattoo.”
“Where is the tattoo located?”
“It’s on the back of her neck, but you can only see it when her hair is in a ponytail or up in a clip. I only know this stuff because she walks Bandit so often. She’s friendly enough and chats with the neighbors, especially the people who like animals.”
“And that sounds like you.”
“I am a dog lover, grew up with them as a kid. We always had pets. What should I do if I spot Bandit again?”
“Take him home and check on the wife while you’re there. I’ll do a wellness visit sometime this week, but right now we have a lot on our plates.” I glanced at the clock. “Anyway, thanks for calling, Tim.” I hung up and went back to filing. The noon news would start in thirty minutes.
Chapter 31
The four-digit beep sounded, and the bull pen door opened. My coworkers were back. I closed the file cabinets, grabbed the folders I hadn’t filed, and returned to the bull pen. We all wanted to see the news segment on the necktie killer as it aired.
I took my seat and leaned back in my chair. “Anything strange going on out in that big bad world?”
Billings swiped the air. “Probably plenty, but I didn’t see shit.”
“I didn’t either,” Kate said.
Clayton plopped down in his chair. “I shook my finger at a jaywalker as I passed through town.”
I smiled. “That’ll teach him not to mess with you.”
Chad cracked his neck and pulled out a bag of peanuts from his desk drawer. “Did you catch the press conference?”
“Nope, missed it, but I had it set to record. I was on the phone with Tim Quarles for twenty minutes.”
Kate spun her chair toward me and fluttered her eyelashes. “Secret boyfriend?”
Clayton laughed. “Good one. No, he’s a weird trailer park guy Amber got acquainted with yesterday.”
“Did I miss something? Is there a story I want to hear?”
I shook my head. “No story to tell other than a stinky garage, a loose dog, and a sick wife, but it is interesting, Chad, that you remembered Tim a lot faster than I did. Crushing on the guy?”
Clayton shot a rubber band at me. “Come on. The news is about to start.”
We gathered in the lunchroom and hit the vending machines while Clayton turned on the TV. We had five minutes until airtime. With our sandwiches, chips, and sodas in front of us, we watched as the news came on.
“Here we go. Life as we know it is about to end.”
I huffed. “You need to clarify that, Adam. You should say, ‘Work as we know it is about to end.”’
“Yeah, that was a bad choice of words. Sorry, guys.”
The news segment on the victims of the necktie killer ran for ten minutes. Sketches of the five unidentified women were shown next to their descriptions and locations where the bodies were found. The tip line number ran on a banner across the bottom of the screen along with the extra number for each county. Bill Crandon, although he was known in Lake Geneva and had already been identified by his family, was included as a victim of the necktie killer. Channel 4 news also broadcast the press conference from that morning, when a general profile of the killer was given.
