Dead of Knight (6 page)

“Haywood was 31, sold real estate. No connection to MacKay through school, work or otherwise. She was working an open house. The killer waited until she was about to close up before he slipped in, possibly posing as an interested buyer. He hid in the home until the other customers were gone and knocked her unconscious with a baseball bat that he grabbed from one of the kids’ rooms.”

“It says here Simon Taylor witnessed a guy in black in the park. He couldn’t give a better description?” asked Fraser.

“Lesley thought she had something with Taylor, but the old guy doesn’t see worth shit.”

Gina pointed to the cards below the victim’s photographs and said to Staal, “Each vic has a history of sexual abuse?”

“Yeah, might be something there,” Gooch said as she entered the room.

“With Mackay, it was her stepfather. Haywood, a friend of her brother and Walker’s sister says their Dad did them both,” Staal said.

“What if they knew each other in a group therapy, or maybe they used the same shrink or something?” Gina said.

“Sounds like a long shot, but maybe Paula Alexander, in Sex, can help look into that. She could put together a list of shelters, halfway houses and clinics,” Gooch said.

“You’ve got Marlboro cigarette butts marked under MacKay and Walker, and black cotton fibers,” Gina said.

“Yeah, we just got the results of DNA testing back yesterday,” Staal said.

“The Mounties actually shared that with us? How nice of them,” Fraser said.

“Yeah, we’ve got DNA from saliva on the cigarette filters of the McKay scene matching a sample from a hair found on Haywood. Unfortunately, nothing matches anything in any databank. The cotton fiber is denim, the kind Levi uses. Hopefully the fiber on Walker will be the same, and with a bit of luck, Drummond or the IHIT techs will be able to match DNA from the Marlboros at the Walker scene to the others.”

“How do we know that he object-rapes the victims?” asked Fraser.

“Wong says that the damage to the surrounding rectal tissue is severe, and he found a wood fiber in Haywood; a hickory fiber. Commonly used for hammer handles. He didn’t find hickory in Mackay, but he is certain that the same object was used. Also, I think Walker had the same injury.”

“How long till we get anything from the lab on Walker?” asked Gina.

Staal flipped out his phone and called James Wong at the Coroner’s Office. “I’ll see what they’ve got so far.” He pushed a button. “Wong. Staal. Got anything for me?”

“Jack, buddy. This is an IHIT case,” Wong said.

“Yeah, no kidding. Dickey Pitman wants us to help out until a third team can come on.”

Staff-Sergeant Richard Pitman led the two IHIT team already working the Birthday Boy case.”

“Uh-huh, news to me.” Wong sighed. “I think this guy just walked up and punched her in the throat. Then maybe kneed her in the face, fracturing her nose, before he used the belt like before. Also, positive for wood fiber. Drummond is checking the Marlboros for saliva. And I’m sending him the black cotton thread.”

“Could she have broken her nose when she went down?”

“Nope, no evidence of that. He either punched or kneed her.” Wong sighed again and then said, “These are all educated guesses, Staal. We’re just getting started over here.”

Staal hung up and told the others about Wong’s preliminary evaluation.

“Now what?” Fraser asked.

“Pitman wants us to talk to Morgan and see if he saw more than he first admitted,” Gooch said. “Murdocco will call the husband, Ronny Matheson. I would love to handle it. Then the team will bring in Jim Dell to work with their sketch artist on a likeness of this ‘guy in black.’”

“So, the next part that doesn’t include us will be the Walker home, right?” asked Fraser.

“Yeah, I think the sister is taking the kids to her place, so the investigators can get in there.”

“So, Staal, what do you think of this dude in black?” Fraser said a few minutes later as they walked from the office to the detective desks.

“He’s the guy, Ken.” Staal said.

Gooch walked past. “We can’t get near the Walker place, so let’s get on with our case load.”

Staal sipped coffee and flipped through his files for the uptown bank robberies. It was difficult to turn his attention from a serial killer to a bank stick-up case. His cell buzzed. Degarmo didn’t say hello.

“Wilson Drummond says there were two prints on the watch crystal; Kim’s and a Samuel Scott.”

“Anything on Scott?” asked Staal.

“A mechanic over in Surrey. Has a clean record, I’m gonna give him a call.” Degarmo hung up like someone had abruptly interrupted her.

Cameron Wakamatsu stepped into the detective floor from the elevator and began his good mornings. Wakamatsu was new to Major Crimes after five years in General Investigation and the Target Team. He was 30, had short-cropped hair and the wiry build of a serious iron-man competitor, his favorite diversion.

Staal nodded to Wakamatsu and glanced at his watch. It was ten minutes to seven. He decided to call Donny Matheson, Walker’s common-law husband, and got his machine.

Gina moved to Staal’s desk. “Alexander’s making a list of walk-in and established groups and shrinks who work with abuse victims.”

“Those types don’t give up names of clients easily. It messes with confidentiality,” Rachael said. 

“Stress to them that we’re trying to stop a serial killer. Maybe you ladies would be better at that than me, Fraser or Waku,” Staal said.

Jan McGuire, a civilian aid, dropped a note on Staal’s desk.

Staal read the note that said to call Jed Wilkinson, who was a local bar owner and a friend of his. Jed had gotten himself jammed up with an asshole street cop named Savage when Staal was in his rookie year as a detective in VPD. Savage had some incriminating photos of Wilkinson and an under-aged girl and informed Jed that he would put him in prison if he didn’t pay him 200 bucks a month. Wilkinson, a bartender in a Robson Street nightclub at the time, paid it for a few months until Savage upped the take to 250. Jed flipped and hit Savage, breaking his jaw. Staal sorted it out, and Jed walked, while Savage’s career abruptly ended.

Staal’s thoughts returned to the Birthday Boy case. Degarmo had informed him over beers about IHIT’s profilers working up a file on their unknown subject. He decided to call Lesley and pick her brain as much as she would allow.

He called her cell. “Can you talk?” he asked.

“Uh-huh, I’m on the can,” Degarmo said, not hiding her irritation.

“Good. Everyone’s here, so I’ll put you on speaker.”

“Jack, fuck! Who’s there?” A toilet flushed.

“The profile, Lesley, is it out?”

“Jack—I can’t...I mean.” She stammered.

“Hey, you brought me in on this. I didn’t ask for any of it so don’t slam the door now.”

“Well, just be careful...okay?”

“Sure.”

Staal had already promised Degarmo that he would be discreet about where and how he got his inside information. He stood and waved the others to follow him to the empty office. When everyone was seated he flipped the desk phone to speaker. He knew that Gooch had sent Wakamatsu down to holding to check on Allen Jeffrey Morgan. Neither Staal nor Gooch knew the newest member of MCS well enough to have him in for Lesley’s update.

“We’re looking for a white male, 25-30,” Lesley began. “He’s not big; about five-eight, 170 pounds or less.”

“That fits with the shoeprints at the Haywood scene,” Staal interrupted.

“Well, we don’t know for sure if he’s small, but he is meek. With the first victim, he used fish-line to ambush her, instead of just overpowering her. With Haywood, he hid in the house and struck her from behind, whereas most men would have met her face to face. Both of these incidents show the killer isn’t secure in his ability to take his victims down with his own strength.”

“That all changed last night,” Staal said. “He struck Walker in the throat with a weaponless fist. She was probable talking to him at the time.”

“Yes, but Walker was a tiny women; five-two and barely a hundred pounds.”

“He didn’t need an ambush approach,” Gooch said.

“Sarge—Sergeant Gooch?”

“Yes, Les, go ahead.”

Staal could sense that his former partner was having second thoughts about continuing to share information, but he trusted Gooch and knew she wouldn’t go to Barnes or the Inspector about Degarmo leaking the Birthday Boy files to him.

“Come on, Les. Fraser looks hungry and you how Gina gets before her morning tea,” he said as he glanced out the office door window spotted Wakamatsu heading for the washrooms. 

“This individual is organized, intelligent, and most likely college educated,” Degarmo continued. “He is also impotent, and may be very awkward with women in social situations.”

“Educated? Intelligent?” Fraser asked.

“Yes, he finds his victims, researches their addresses and recons their routines for some time before he kills. This shows a level of intelligence. We don’t believe he knows these women.”

“That’s where I disagree, Les,” Staal said. “These women are linked somehow, and he knows them from somewhere.”

“If he doesn’t know them,” asked Gina. “How would he know to kill them on their birthday?”

“I believe he works in a coffee shop or restaurant that features a club where the costumer gets a free beverage or meal on their birthday,” Degarmo said.

“Like Denny’s?” Fraser asked.

“Yes, something of that nature. He works there, meets them, researches and then...well, you all know what he does next.” Degarmo cleared her throat.

“The question is, why is he killing and why on their birthday?” Staal said.

According to the profile,” Degarmo began. Staal heard paper rustling. “Past sexual abuse perpetrated by a male family member. Most likely the father, step or bio...with a major event taking place on his birthday.”

“Male?” Gooch said what they all were thinking.

“Yes, the father did it while the mother witnessed the act and did nothing to stop it.”

“I don’t think so,” Staal said.

“I agree with Jack. That doesn’t work for me,” Gooch said.

“The penetration is anal, as a man would do to another male. Also, a guy this unconfident wouldn’t attempt to attack a man.” Degarmo sounded hesitant, like she didn’t agree with the report she was reading, either.

“So, he attacks women because it’s easier for him and they symbolize his mother who did nothing to stop the abuse in his past. He rapes anally because that’s how his father abused him, and he uses an object because he is sexually impotent,” Gooch summarized.

“Yes, Rachael. That’s what it says here.”

“Anything else, Les?” Staal said.

“I’ve got to go,” Degarmo said with an impatient tone. “We’ve got the Walker apartment at nine.”

Staal stood, and left the office. He walked slowly to his desk allowing for Degarmo’s report to fully sink in. When the others caught up he sat at his desk.

“So, what do you think of all that?” Gina said to Staal.

Staal shook his head. “Think the profile is a little off on this one.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“The whole abuse angle doesn’t feel right.” Staal paused. “These killings...the vics aren’t random.”

“I agree,” Gooch said.

“This level of violence...this is a revenge killing.” Staal took another moment. “He knows these woman—there is a history—they did him wrong somehow—I don’t know.”

Staal gulped coffee while the others took this in.

“You think this guy dated them all at some point?” Gooch asked.

“Something like that. Or he wanted to—tried over and over—they weren’t interested…they shot him down ....”

“But how does the Birthday angle fit?”

Staal shook his head. “If he doesn’t know them there are dozens of ways in which this guy could find his vics. Too many ways...”

There were nods around the desk. Staal continued. “He could be a banker, anybody in human resources, or somebody at the DMV.” He paused, took a breath. “Medical staff, law enforcement, accountant,” his voice grew loud. “Lawyer, telemarketer, utilities, nightclub bouncer, bartender, any-fucking-body who writes down a DOB for any god-damn reason!”

“Jesus, Jack,” Fraser said.

“He knows them and I’m gonna find the bag of shit. I’m working this full time, guys.” Staal’s heartbeat was picking up speed. “Barnes wants us to help out—we all know that means the shit work.” He paused for a breath and looked around at the others. “You guy’s don’t have to cover for me...I’ll take the heat as it comes.”

“Jack,” Gooch said.

“It’s okay. Rachael you need to think about your bump.” He looked at the others. “You guys work our case load and look the other way as I go after this guy in black.”

“Jack,” Gooch said. “I grew up here. That piece of shit is killing women in my town. Walker, McKay—they’re the same age as my sister. What’s a promotion worth if I can’t do the right thing here?”