To Probe A Beating Heart (23 page)

             
“Jim, first, never hesitate to bring stuff up here and second, no, we did not have this. You did this at home, from the news papers and the internet?”

             
“Yeah.”

             
“Good work, and you’re not supposed to be doin this, but I’m not

gonna’ tell you to stop. That door is never locked,” said George pointing
at the squad room door.

             
“I’m gonna’ get outa’ the way now,” said Jim.

             
“Okay, when you see something else, you better be back up here. By the way, Alex will be in this afternoon, so why don’t you stop back around four?”

             
“I’ll do that.”

             
“We’ll do that,” added Sean.

             
“Okay guys, see you at four.”

             
Sean and Jim were a little late getting on the road and the sergeant was not happy with that.

             
“Aw come on Jeff, how many times have I been late? And little Jimmy has never been late even once, so don’t push.”

             
“Well what was that all about?”

             
“Annette.”

             
“Alright Sean, but let’s not make this a habit.”

             
“Okay, we are meeting with George and Alex at four today and that’s it.”

             
“Why, did the D’s come up with something?”

             
“Jim may have something, we’re going to see.”

             
“This afternoon, okay, check in at three thirty and get your paperwork done and the rest of the day is yours.”

             
They came off at three, did their paperwork and were upstairs at four. Alex was in his usual office and Jim went directly to him.

             
“Little pieces, eh Doc. I found something and then I noticed something else.”

             
“Jim, let’s get George in here and run the whole thing.”

             
“I’m ready when you are Alex.”

             
The group assembled in Alex’s office, and Jim laid out his papers.

             
“What I noted today is that the four disappearances have occurred along interstate ninety. If this is one guy, he’s a traveler. The four sites are Cleveland Heights, Ohio, McKean, Pennsylvania, Syracuse, New York and now Goshen, Indiana. All along the interstate ninety corridor. Could be a trucker.”

             
“As I recall the description from Mrs. Simpson, he was well dressed, and driving a van,” said Alex.

             
“Right, so the next option is a traveler, like a salesman,” said Jim.

             
“That works,” said George. “Now we have to identify a salesman with a blue van, who has been in all four locations on the days in question. Good luck with that.”

             
Alex looked at Jim, “You said you noticed something.”

             
“Yeah, three of the girls are blond with blue eyes.”

             
“Interesting,” said George.

             
“All three were wearing white shoes and blue shorts.”

             
“More interesting,” said Alex.

             
“All taken mid week, between three in the afternoon and eight in the evening.”

             
“Anything else?” asked George.

             
“No, that’s it.”

             
“That’s a lot Jim. That’s good, now what can we do with this information?”

             
“I don’t know, that’s why God made detectives, now Sean and I can hit the streets again and leave this in your hands.”

             
“Okay, first let’s kick this around. This is a what if session.” said

Alex.

              “What’s that?”

             
“Well Jim, what if there is more than one bad guy out there?”

             
“Then, I split the victims three and one. The three blond girls with eyes, shoes and shorts to match on one team and the other girl on another team.”

             
“Right, now what does that tell you ?”

             
“His targets are specific, like he sees the same person in each of them.”

             
“That’s a maybe, a strong maybe, very strong.”

             
“Then who is the person that he sees in each of the girls?,” asked Alex.

             
“An old girlfriend, a sister, the daughter of somebody, I don’t know.”

             
“So do you think that he is constantly killing the same person, or setting the real target up so that she fits into a group when he kills her?”

             
“People do weird things and this bogey is no exception. He could be killing the same person over and over, and I am going to assume that she is still alive because the victims are getting older as he moves along. He may be prepping a kill for her or he could be doing this and never intending on killing the central person. There is no way of knowing until we get more information.”

             
“Well we have something that we did not have yesterday, that’s good,” said George.

* * *

              June passed into July and Averell thought more and more about Sarah and Ellie. He at one moment wanted to abandon caution and planning and do them both and then not. Almost on a daily basis, decisions were made that allowed them to continue to live. Averell was in constant turmoil over his hatred for Sarah and Ellie and his want to be safe.

             
“We should have taken her and Ellie.”

             
“If we did they would suspect us, that we cannot afford, yet.”

             
“When will we be ready?”

             
“Not yet, maybe soon, but not yet.”

             
“I want to do them now, how will it get any better than now?”

             
“We have to perfect our procedure. When we do it to them, it has to be perfect.”

             
“It will be perfect, the next one will be better, then maybe then we will be ready.”

             
“The next one, yes, the next one.”

* * *

In October of that same year, a twelve year old girl was kidnapped at knife point from her home in California. The search for this girl involved thousands of people and both local and national media coverage and her body was found after about four months. As it happened, the individual eventually captured, tried and convicted of her murder had been sought by the California Highway Patrol for an unrelated parole violation at the time of the abduction. Even though he was the subject of an APB by the Highway Patrol, he eluded capture for a period long enough for him to commit this act and even walk away from an encounter with a local police group after a minor traffic violation. This case brought to the national stage a problem experienced in this and undoubtedly many other cases. Communication between law enforcement groups needed improvement. Different localities and different agencies were not always in communication with one another.

* * *

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

You mean we need another victim . . .

The summer of 1994 required some changes. Averell drove past the farmhouse hoping that it would still be available. As he approached the site, a pick-up truck was pulling out of the driveway with a realtor’s name on the side. He approached slowly and saw several people standing in the area outside the barn discussing something. He wondered if it had sold and kept on driving.

             
“No sense even starting a conversation. If it has sold, then it’s gone, if not, it’s getting too much attention. Hmmm, I wonder if there are any traces of our activity in the barn.”

             
“May well be, and we were in the house, did we leave anything there?”

             
“I don’t think so, I’m sure we did not.” He continued down the road for a few miles when he noticed a dirt road off to the left. “I wonder what’s down there.”

             
“One way to find out.”

             
“Yeah, let’s check this out.”

             
He turned on to the dirt road and drove about a quarter mile. The

road entered a wooded patch and turned to the left about a hundred yards
from the main road and then turned back to the right. He was moving away from the main road and there was nothing but trees and a few open areas. The road ended in an opening where several vehicles had parked recently. He got out and walked around looking at the trees and trying to see what was in the woods and beyond. He walked in a circle around the clearing where there were tire tracks and saw a darkened spot on the ground. A dark brownish color, dried blood. What was this place? He continued looking around for a few minutes when he saw a pick-up pull into the clearing. The driver wheeled his truck around and backed into a position facing the road. He cut the engine and got out of the truck.

             
“Hey, good mornin’,” he said. “You here fer the crows?”

             
“Ah, well, I was just looking to see what it’s like in here.”

             
“Hey, yer from New York, the city?”

             
“No, closer to Buffalo, near the Pennsylvania border.”

             
“M’name’s Phil, pleasure meetin’ ya. Some good huntin’ up that’a way in New York, what brings you down here?”

             
“Oh, my name is Al, Al Davis, I’m here on business, and I have family in Cincinnati, so I drive by a lot.”

             
“You got you a Ohio huntin’ ticket, Al?”

             
“Ah, no, no not yet.”

             
“Hell, neither do I,” he said with a laugh, “been comin’ out here fer more’n twenty years, never had one. Hell, they don’t care, long as you bag a bunch o’ them crows. Don’t have a fishin’ ticket neither and that stream yonder has some good eatin’ swimmin’ aroun’ in it.”

             
“Well, I don’t want to be in your way, so I’ll just be moving on.”

             
“Oh hell, yer not in my way, I’m probably in yer’s. I only got an hour or so and I gotta’ git a go on, git my butt back home. Live ‘bout five mile south down the road.”

             
“How often do you get over here?”

             
“Lucky if I make it once a month any more, safe as hell here, nobody fer miles, I’m the only one comes this time a year, all them others is only after deer, you know, bow an’ arrow stuff, that starts in September some time. That’s when I jus’ stay away all together. Them bow people is goofy, probably think I got a white tail an’ be pitchin’ arrows at my butt.”

             
“So nobody would be here after you leave ‘til September?”

             
“Nope, nobody. You wanna’ bag a deer off season, this is the perfect place. I got one last week. Hey I gotta’ go, git me a bunch a them damn crows. See ya.” and he disappeared into the woods with his shotgun.

             
Averell looked around for another few minutes and was getting in his car when he heard Phil get off two rounds. The sound was dulled by the trees. Averell rolled down all his windows and drove to the edge of the woods, still not visible from the road. He listened for twenty minutes and thought he heard a few more shots from Phil’s shotgun, but the sound was very faint. He smiled and drove out to the main road and paused. There was no traffic from either direction and he was sure Phil was still shooting at crows, but he heard nothing. Again he smiled and turned south on the road.

             
“That was very interesting.”

             
“Yes it was.”

             
“We could use this place all summer.”

             
“Let’s see what happens next time we are here. ”

             
“I am ready.”

             
“I know you are.”

             
On Tuesday, July 19, that summer Allison Kinsey, a thirteen year old girl, was by herself at a park in Elyria, Ohio. She was sitting on a bench about twenty feet from the street. Averell noticed that she was wearing a light blue blouse and denim shorts. She had blond hair and blue eyes and was swinging her feet below the bench seat as if she was waiting for someone. Averell pulled up and parked. He got out and walked past her as if he was looking for somebody. He paced back and forth a number of times and returned to his car, stood there looking around and repeatedly looking at his watch. It was 3:40 in the afternoon. Allison saw him and wondered to herself what he was looking for. He looked very unhappy. Averell noticed that she was watching him and he paced some more. She continued to watch. Averell noted that nobody else was around, there was no traffic, this was his moment. He opened his trunk and took out two pull ties and a cloth balled up on a piece of tape. He left the trunk partially open and walked quickly toward the girl. There was no preliminary talk, he quickly grabbed her, stuffed the cloth in her mouth and pushed the tape against her cheeks. He grabbed her arms and put the pull tie over her hands and pulled tight. Then he picked her up and pushed the lurching girl in his trunk where he struggled to grab her ankles and got the other pull tie over her feet and pulled it tight.

             
He slammed the trunk and got behind the wheel and drove away in a very controlled and legal manner. He drove for about an hour when he saw the dirt road and turned in and went to the clearing. Nobody was there, all of the tire tracks were obviously old and the grass was growing straight. He got out of the car, looked around and listened. Satisfied that he was completely alone, he walked into the woods a very short distance and found another smaller clearing that would do for his purposes.

             
Averell returned to the car, looked around and opened the trunk. Allison was red faced with swollen eyes and her hands were almost blue. She looked terrified.

              “Oh did I make the tie too tight?”

             
“That was very un-thoughtful of you. You should apologize. Now.”

             
“You are right, Oh young lady, I am so sorry for making the tie too tight.”

             
“Not bad you liar, you’d have made it tighter if you knew it would hurt.”

             
Allison was scared and confused, the man was talking to himself and he was hurting her.

             
“Now remember, I told you before, we should tell her what was going to happen before we do it and watch her eyes.”

             
“Yes, yes, I remember.”

             
“Well Sarah,” he said as he pulled her out of the trunk, “we are going to have some fun with you. You are my little toy and I am going to see what you are like inside. I am going to probe you with my probes and then cut you open with my knife and see your heart while it is still beating.”

             
Allison was screaming into her gag as Averell watched her eyes bulge and tear.

             
“And then?”

             
“Oh yes, and then I will cut off your arms.”

             
Allison was in a complete panic and almost swallowed her gag. Averell laughed, “This is great.”

             
“And ?”

             
“And then I will cut off your legs.”

             
Allison was out of control, she was vomiting into her gag and Averell pulled it off. She gagged and vomited more and screamed.

             
“And?”

             
“And then, when I am finished, I will kill you, okay.”

             
Allison passed out.

             
“I may have already killed her.”

             
“Check her pulse.”

             
Averell cut the tie on her wrists and checked for a pulse. Then he

checked her neck. She was still alive.

             
“We may not have a lot of time, we should go for seeing the heart first.”

             
“You’re right,” and with that Averell laid Allison on the ground and started to remove her blouse. “This is very awkward, I want her to stand. Let’s tie her to that tree.” He lifted her and held her arms over her head and spread between two branches. She was half suspended with her knees bent about a foot off the ground and her feet dragging in the dirt. He stripped her to the waist and used his box cutter to make an incision starting at her neck and extending down to her navel. he made two more cuts and opened her exposing her ribs. He saw her heart, beating.

             
“Do you see that?”

             
“Yes.”

             
“Is that cool or what?”

             
“That’s cool.”

             
“Now I want to see what happens when I cut her throat.”

             
“Okay.”

             
He took a probe and thrust it through her carotid artery, blood flowed freely for a few seconds and then stopped, the heart muscle stopped pulsing and he lifted her eye lid.

             
“Aw, nobody’s home.”

             
“That was amazing.”

             
Averell was covered in sweat, he was exhausted. He cut the ties that held Allison in place and placed her on a drop cloth. He proceeded to dismember her body and get ready to bury her at the cemetery. As he cut her apart he envisioned Sarah was laying in front of him and he smiled.

He imagined Ellie standing next to him criticizing the way he cut into

Sarah’s flesh and he thought about cutting Ellie next. He smiled.

             
“What are you grinning about?”

             
“Oh, nothing, I am just enjoying the great outdoors.”

             
“I see, you’re thinking about Sarah and Ellie. They could be next and this place is perfect. I wonder where they are right now, what they are doing?”

             
Averell seemed to snap out of a day dream, “First things first, we have to get this one to the cemetery.”

             
“What do you think about burying her here in this place? Phil said nobody comes here. No transportation, no risk.”

             
“You know that may be a good idea.”

             
He went to the trunk, got out the shovel and looked around for a spot to dig. “Here, this could be good.” He started to dig. After an hour he had a pit deep enough for the three bags. He put them in and started to fill in the hole.

             
“Rocks, we should use rocks.”

             
“Yes rocks.” He looked around and found a few rocks that he put in the grave. He put more dirt and walked around again looking for rocks. Another hour passed and the job was done.

             
Averell was exhausted, completely drained. He sat on the ground and noticed his clothes. Soaked in blood. He stood, stripped and put all his clothes in a plastic bag. He double bagged everything and put it in his trunk. He was naked standing next to his car, thinking. “Water, I need water.” He put clean clothes in a bag and walked into the woods, carrying the bag and a beach towel, in the direction that Phil had indicated there was a stream.

             
The water was cold but the air was warm. He waded in a few feet and the bottom was starting to drop off. He dove in and swam for a few minutes and climbed out refreshed. “That was nice, a little chilly, but nice.” He waded in again till the water was up to his waist and he squatted down allowing himself to be completely submerged. He stood and took a deep breath, then he squatted again. He stayed under as long as he could and then stood, gulping another large breath. He repeated the process two more times, each time staying under as long as he could. After the fifth full dip, he slowly walked out of the stream and dried himself off, then dressed and made his way back to the car. The only sign of his activity was the blood on the ground. Anybody would assume that a deer was taken here and this is where it bled out. He went to the car and checked for all his tools. He took everything that had mud or blood on it to the stream and washed it off.