Kenny the making of a se.., p.1
Kenny the Making of a Serial Killer 3, page 1
KENNY
- THE MAKING OF A SERIAL KILLER -
- A Trilogy -
Book 3
Patrick Laughy
Dedication
This book is dedicated to the memory of Vancouver Police Service dog, Duke lll
ACKNOWLEDGEMENT
Without Suzy’s help, this book would never have been written.
ISBN:978-1-927965-39-9
Copyright 2018
All rights reserved
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or have been used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Contents
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
- October 2000 -
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
- September 2005 -
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
- October 2005 –
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
- Early November 2005 -
CHAPTER THIRTY
- Mid-November 2005 -
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
- Late November 2005 -
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
- Wednesday, November 30th, 2005 -
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
- Early Hours of December 1st, 2005 -
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
- Morning of December 1st, 2005 -
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
- Afternoon of December 1st, 2005 –
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
- December Second, 2005 -
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
- December Third, 2005 -
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
- Morning of December 4th, 2005 -
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
- Afternoon of December 4th, 2005 -
CHAPTER FORTY
- Evening of December 4th, 2005 -
EPILOGUE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
- October 2000 -
Kenny found it necessary to have things properly structured.
Over the past six months he’d been experimenting with his periods of hiatus between kills. As a result, he had concluded that he needed to fulfill his needs monthly, if he wanted to reasonably satisfy his sexual needs.
He’d reached that decision on his birthday in September, shortly after he’d done his last one. That appeared to be a good balance, enough time to build up the sexual urge to a pinnacle, so that it could be properly savored and appreciated, but not so long as to cause him to become uneasy and moody.
He was both excited and pleased at having now picked a specific monthly date for each of his sessions. He was convinced such a plan would work well when it came to both his desires and the growing need to meet the special sausage production requirements.
From this point on, he would start each new month with a bang.
Rain seemed to be the order of the day for most of October. Frequently heavy. On other days, overcast and showery.
A couple of serious windstorms also hit the Vancouver lower-mainland during October.
By the first of the month, Kenny had a total of seven successful kills behind him.
Early on the morning of the eighth, he found himself happily humming as he went through the final processes of cleaning up after his last kill.
His only problem this time around, was getting the kid’s effects burned in the barrel. The damned rain was pounding down. He had to keep pouring gas on the barrel’s contents to sustain the fire.
It seemed to take forever to get it done.
During the third week of the month, the second of the windstorms hit with a vengeance and power had been knocked out, reportedly from uprooted trees falling on wires in many locations of the lower mainland.
Kenny’s was one of the households that found themselves in the dark as a result.
At first, he hadn’t worried about it too much. He’d been through several short outages before. But when this one looked like it was going to last for days rather than hours, he immediately thought of the contents of his big commercial freezers and began to panic.
He certainly didn’t want the meat to thaw before his next sausage run had been completed, and without power for his machines, he couldn’t empty them and turn it into his special sausage mixture.
As a result, he’d scrambled to buy some large commercial generators.
Unfortunately, he soon found he wasn’t the only one looking. In the end he had to get Walter to send one of the trucks across the provincial border into Alberta with instructions to pick three up there.
The whole operation had taken two days and Kenny was still without power when the truck came back.
By the time it was over, and he had temporary backup power, Kenny was a wreck.
For the whole time the power had been off, he had been unable to sleep. He’d kept checking the two big freezers to see how they were holding up. Each time he’d done it, the temperature dials had shown a steady, if slow, rise in temperature.
Once the portable generators were functioning, one for the house, one for the piggery and one for Walter’s place, Kenny had finally been able to relax, and he slept for twelve hours straight.
The next day, normal power was restored, and the crisis was over.
Twenty-four hours later he had finished processing the contents of the freezers and shipped the outstanding orders to his customers.
That out of the way, he had once again meticulously cleaned the sausage-making equipment.
From his perspective, the whole system was organized to the point that it was all working like a well-oiled machine.
All the planning and effort had been worthwhile.
There was a physical change beginning to take place however, one that Kenny did not yet see coming.
‘Boystown’, was about to undergo a transformation, brought about by two factors.
The first was the subtle changes occurring in the commercial area where the stroll flourished. This had come about by way of the creeping gentrification taking place there, a move towards a reuse of the derelict industrial area, by way of a large upscale development to be known as ‘Yaletown’.
This meant that increasing pressure to drive out the young male prostitutes was going to come increasingly into play over the next few years.
The second was the advent of cellular phones and their expanded usage, to the point that over the next decade they would probably become mainstream.
Once the cell phone was in common use and the price had come down to the point where everyone was carrying one, a kid wouldn’t have to stand on a corner in the rain and snow to advertise his wares. He would be able to do it electronically.
Slowly but steadily, times were changing. By October of 2000 the writing was on the wall, but Kenny hadn’t noticed it yet.
He was content.
Little Malinda was eight months old and along with her three-year-old brother, keeping the Richard’s household busy.
In August, Ed and Cathy had decided it was time to get a place of their own. They had moved out in September.
After a good deal of discussion, Dave and Linda, both wanting to continue their careers, agreed to the idea of hiring a nanny for the kids and the day after Ed and Cathy vacated, Blessica Cruz, a petite, attractive twenty-two-year-old Filipino woman, took up residence in their secondary suite.
They’d hired Blessica under the Federal Temporary foreign workers program and although initially somewhat apprehensive about whether she would work out, in the end found themselves very pleased with the entire process.
Blessica turned out to be somewhat reserved, but eager and full of energy for her new task. She was delightfully polite, caring, and earnest in her care, concern and affection for the children.
Within a matter of weeks, she had completely settled in and it seemed that she had been with them for years. Any preconceived concerns quickly faded. By that time, Dave and Linda had complete faith in her abilities to handle the care of the children when they were at work.
Linda had come off her maternity leave and had been back at work since August.
Dave’s vasectomy had become a reality in July.
He’d had an uncomfortable couple of days afterwards, accompanied by a goodly amount of friendly banter from within Major Crime, Linda’s tongue-in-cheek sympathy and ‘I told you so’ looks from Murphy the cat.
Dave had remained as Acting-Inspector for the squad up until September, but the replacement for Henderson was due to take place on October first.
It had been generally agreed in the lower ranks that a Staff/Sergeant was not likely to be raised to Inspector rank to fill the void. Rumors had been flying around for the last two weeks, but no one below the top floor really had any idea as to which current Inspector the Chief was likely going to put in the spot.
On the drive in to the office on the first, Dave had a few butterflies hovering around in his gut as he tossed around some of the names that had been popping up of late.
When he pulled the unmarked unit into the underground parking garage at headquarters and parked it in its reserved ‘Insp. Major Crime’ slot, he knew he was going to miss the car perk. He would be catching a ride home tonight with Ed and driving his own truck back and forth to work again after today.
As he rode up to his office in the elevator from the parking garage, he shifted his thoughts away from trying to guess who would end up in the big office he’d vacated the night before, and back to a more posi
ViCLAS results were more than justifying the upgrades he had put into place. Tips provided by the system were bearing fruit weekly and leading to some astonishing charges being laid in both current and cold cases. The entire department was now in full support of the new thrust to fully utilize the possibilities the program provided.
When he entered the reception area of Major Crime, Dave was immediately aware of an aura of general unease. The usual low-key banter that normally bubbled just below the surface was missing.
The small groups of detectives who habitually gathered in various parts of the section, were not in evidence and the silence was deafening.
The odd phone was still ringing, and the sound of the photocopier operating at the back of the office could be clearly heard.
Over-all apprehension was palatable.
Although he hadn’t expected this change in the squad, he quickly realized that he should have.
A new man in charge.
Everyone was diligently working at his or her desk and with a few exceptions, on pins and needles, wondering what if any radical changes were about to come to descend upon them.
Brenda, the civilian secretary seated at her desk behind the counter, looked up as Dave reached over the top of the gate and popped it open, so he could enter the squad proper.
Brenda was a no-nonsense old-timer. She had been in her post for more than twenty years and Dave got along with her very well.
There was a blank expression on her face as she spoke. She kept her voice low, intentionally ensuring that he was the only one to hear her.
“Inspector Campbell would like to see you in his office first thing.”
She had a twinkle in her eye as she raised her eyebrows and then slowly shook her head, before delivering a deep sigh.
“Better you than me!”
Dave paused before passing her desk and grinned as he let his eyes meet hers.
“Our new boss would be Doug Campbell then. Interesting times ahead.”
He winked.
“Right, well I better go straight in then, hadn’t I?”
What he knew of Doug Campbell began to roll through the back of Dave’s mind as he crossed the open work area and moved down the hall toward the offices at the far end of the building. He was well aware of the multitude of eyes that were following his progress.
Fifty-three or fifty-four. Spent most of his career in the Patrol Division. Campbells only experience in the detective office had been with stolen autos and that had been over twenty years ago of short duration.
Never worked any of the serious Major crime desks.
Made the cut for Inspector ten years ago and had been moved to a position of acting as one of the Duty Officers for the patrol division, after hours. The Duty Officer position was a first placement for most new inspectors. Those who were actively on the march up the ladder normally spent less than a year in that position, before they were moved into a more specialized area of command.
Campbell had not been one of those.
In the end, he’d never been transferred to any other duty. He’d spent his last ten years working afternoon or night shifts, as a Duty Officer.
Within the department, Campbell was generally considered to be a cement-headed pompous ass, who was infamous for talking down to his subordinates.
A man who was clearly less than bright, but who thought very highly of himself and over the past ten years, had made it very clear that he believed he had been unfairly treated by various promotion boards and repeatedly passed over for promotions, that should have been his for the asking.
Physically unimposing as a policeman. Five nine, slightly overweight, completely bald, perpetual frown and introverted. Well-known for his bad temper and dislike for anyone who disagreed with him. Never wrong. The type of supervisor who always managed to find an underling scapegoat if anything he himself was responsible for went sideways.
An unforgiving man with a long memory.
Not someone you wanted to have on your bad side.
Dave didn’t know what to think.
He’d never in his wildest dreams even remotely considered that the Chief would select this dolt to replace Henderson.
Dave entered his own office and closed his door softly behind him. He took his cap and overcoat off and hung them on the hook on the back of the door and then sucked in a deep breath.
What in heavens’ name had the Chief been thinking?
Dave perched his butt on the corner of his desk and shifted his mind back to the last conversation he’d had with Henderson as to what he intended to recommend to the Chief - mentally rerunning parts of that discussion.
‘… I’m going to suggest that he select my replacement by way of a current Inspector who has had some minor experience with the detective division, but one who is of a seniority that means he has no more than a couple of years left to put in before he pensions off.
That way you will still have a good chance to take the top spot once he goes.
I’m also going to push for someone who is already in a ‘pre-retirement’ frame of mind and more importantly, who has already been promoted past his abilities within the department.
Someone who the Chief considers likely to be happy with leaving you to do all the work and make all the important decisions, while he sits, happily on his duff, studying travel brochures in this office, in name only.
In other words, a guy who will keep out of your hair and let you run the squad your way.’
Then he reweighed what the Chief had said to him when he saw him last.
‘… he’s came up with a backup proposal, one that he led me to believe he’d discussed in a general sense with you already.
… the less we talk about it the better. Suffice to say I will play my part in this and I’ve already got somebody in mind who might just fit the bill.
… the two deputies are going to be nattering at me about the man I’ve chosen and trying to get me to reconsider. I can ride that out, and if you can do your part to make the squad run smoothly, despite who is sitting in the corner office down there, I think the whole thing will blow over in time.
…If all goes well, when the new guy retires in two year’s time, you’ll be a shoe-in to replace him.
I’m sticking me neck out here Staff/Sergeant Richards. Don’t make me regret it.’
Dave rolled forward off his desk, left his office and walked down the hall.
He knocked and opened the door to the Inspector’s office.
For better or worse, stepped directly into the lion’s den.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
- September 2005 -
Kenny turned twenty-eight on the first of the month.
As he had for the past five years, he celebrated his birthday by way of adding yet another victim to his tally.
Over that timeframe, he had been able to maintain his system without any serious hitches and his total kills now numbered sixty-eight.
As August was coming to an end, the hint of a problem had arisen - one that he recognized he would have to deal with before it got out of hand. It was a concern that he admitted he had initially recognized over several months but had been hesitant to deal with.
The problem was Robbie.
It was a two-fold concern.
Firstly, Robbie had matured, reaching an age that made him far less sexually desirable to Kenny.
Secondly, recently Robbie had begun to openly express disenchanted with the current state-of-affairs.
As Kenny got his real kicks from his monthly kills, his need for Robbie as a sex partner between kills was, while necessary for his daily comfort, certainly not paramount and in fact was waning.
Now, if that had been the only problem, he could have dismissed it as minor.
However, an uncooperative and moody Robbie was a risk that Kenny was not prepared to take. He sensed that he was losing the ability to fully dominate Robbie and that was completely unacceptable.
A Robbie deciding to vary the procedure for whatever reason by thinking on his own could only eventually lead to a screw-up which would leave Kenny vulnerable. Additionally, in mid-August, Robbie had casually mentioned to Kenny that he had noticed that none of the past targets he had selected for their nights of special fun, seemed to be currently working the stroll.
