Murder! Too Close To Home (17 page)

We walked out the building once again and walked across the courtyard separating the courthouse from the building the lab was in. The sun was at its hottest now, the heat on my skin renewing me after a long, dark winter.

The light level dropped dramatically as we entered the lab, the main room being almost unlit with little pools of light over each of the tables interspersed throughout the room. Letting my eyes adjust to the darkness, I finally spotted a little white lab coat gliding around the room as if it were a ghost, floating through the space on its way to a haunting.

As my eyes eventually became better attuned to the dimness, I could finally make out the form of the small, balding man that occupied the garment, his black pants and shoes essentially making his legs disappear in the low light.

Percy Vogel was a prime example of the concept that the naming of a child will influence his or her outcome and personality. I can only guess that when Percy’s mother named him, she was at least subconsciously hoping for a studious and intelligent child as her contribution to this world.

Well done, Mrs. Vogel, well done.

The man standing before me was indeed the smartest guy I knew, exemplified by the office wall filled with diplomas from all over the country.

The only reason he stuck around here in this normally quiet county was to care for his mother. She had been ill for years, and it had always been just him and her, together against the world. She had gladly worked two jobs to send him to college, and in spite of how it affected his career, he felt the overwhelming need to take care of her now that their roles were reversed.

So he deftly practiced his craft within the confines of a small lab with a limited budget, while still outshining others in his field with much larger resources.

One glaring exception to what one might expect of the man is that he did exceptionally well with the ladies. Betty and I would see him out often with one of many eligible women, each one seeming more than pleased to be in his company.

“Percy, I hear you have something for me,” I said as I walked over to the table that held his current interest. Surprise shown on his face as he looked up at me through his round metal glasses,  but it quickly turned to a smile as he held out his hand, shaking both Frank’s and mine with gusto.

“Indeed I do, indeed I do,” he stated as he walked to another brightly lit table, repeating his phrases as was his custom.

“I have been looking into the code book you found at the apartment of the suspect. As far as fingerprints go, the only ones evident were of your man Wesley. I have also decoded the paper that was stuck between the pages of said book,” he said as he handed me a copy of his work sheet.

As I began to read what Percy has garnered from the paper, I suddenly looked up in surprise, exclaiming, “Instructions for the Longstreet murder!”

“Indeed they are, indeed they are,” Percy repeated before looking down once more to his workspace.

“This book was quite interesting for another reason too, however. I compared the handwriting with that of your suspect and it was definitely not written by him, not by him.”

“I suspected as much. Can we send this to someone to get a handwriting analysis, maybe get a profile on the author?”

“Already done,” Percy said with a grin, handing me a report on single-spaced typed paper. “Already done.” 

“I didn’t know you knew how to do that kind of hocus pocus Percy, you are always surprising me with your skills.”

“I had a few classes in handwriting analysis, even had a refresher course at a forensics conference last month.”

“How about giving us the high points so I don’t have to try to read this in this darkness your surround yourself in” I said as I squinted at the paper.

“I can do better than that, better than that,” Percy said as he laid the opened book on the table.

“We can actually tell quite a bit about a person from their handwriting. Our author has extremely good script, meticulous detail was paid to the lettering; both spacing and conformity are nearly perfect. By the stability in the lines, I would say we are looking at someone in their late twenties or into their thirties, no older than that.”

“Also, knowing the general attitude in the public schools concerning the lost art of handwriting prevalent for the last twenty years, I would surmise that this person attended a parochial school, or possibly a private one. My guess is that she was at the top of her class, top of her class.”

It took a few seconds for my mind to process what he had just told me. When it finally hit me I was, to say the least, flabbergasted!

“You’re telling me that the person that made this book, the possible accomplice to a string of murders, is…a woman?”

“Indeed she is Gabriel, indeed she is.”

Chapter 42

March 11, 1997

The surprising disclosure of the possibility of a woman’s involvement in these murders left us mute on our walk back to the office.

We hadn’t even pursued the clues we already had that indicated a potential second person, but the additional revelation of a female in the mix didn’t settle with my gut well at all.

Percentage wise, women were much less likely to murder, and female serial killers were almost unheard of. Sure, there had been a few notorious exceptions through the ages: Mary Ann Cotton, Nannie Doss and Ruby Lynn Martin to name a few. They were famous for their cold and calculating demeanors while they murdered friends, family, and neighbors. But as appalling as these female executioners were, they still only accounted for a small percentage of our history’s serial killings.  

Entering the office once more, I grabbed Tucker and ask him to get the group together and meet Frank and me in the conference room. He nodded his head and went off to find the others while we went to grab a cup of coffee.

“Quite a kick in the pants,” Frank mumbled as he poured his cup.

I had to agree, but was unsure what to do with the information yet. I went over to the copier and made copies of the forensic reports on the code book and the decoded letter to distribute to the other Task Force members.

We made our way to the conference room and found seats as the rest of the crew trickled in, Harry being the last in as he closed the door before slowly ambling to his seat.

“We have some new info we wanted to share with everybody on the code book and the letter we found in it,” I said as I passed out copies to everyone. “The report explains it better than I can so take a few minutes to go over it.”

I sat back down and sipped on my coffee as I watched the reactions of the others.

Satisfied that everyone had had their surprise for the day, I asked, “does anyone have any thoughts?”

“This could be a woman? Do we have a motive yet as to why this woman would want to kill these people…or Wesley’s reasons for that matter?” Tucker asked the room.

“No reasoning has yet to be determined for any of the murders,” I answered glumly. “But it’s just one of the unanswered questions we have that just got more complicated. We don’t know the relationship between the two either…whether she is a relative, lover, or he is someone she hired. I’m at least fairly certain that Jacob Wesley is not the mastermind behind these murders however.”

“You know, there is still very little to go on, no prints, no easy way to identify the handwriting,” Frank stated as he looked up from the report. “Maybe we should ignore her, concentrate on Wesley for now; at least we have some leads on him.”

The room was quiet for several moments as everyone settled into the assessment whether to ignore the new evidence for now.

“However,” Betty tentatively started, “as a rule, statistically speaking anyway, a woman is generally more organized than a man. Don’t take this the wrong way guys, but a woman can be more task oriented than a man.”

“One thing has been bothering me since we learned some things about Jacob John Wesley and his life to this point. You guys saw that apartment, it was cluttered and un-kept. The interviews from the store where he worked revealed him to be a menial worker, somewhat dependable but not a self starter by any means. I agree with Gabe, how does a guy like that pull off two almost perfect murders? The only reason we know of him at all is from a witness that by chance caught a glimpse of his face from a lightning flash.”

Second thoughts seemed to be evident on most of the men’s faces as Betty continued her assessment.

“Add to that the Sheriff’s uniform, the gun from evidence, how does this guy get his hands on those kinds of items?”

“In my estimation, this woman is pulling the strings. I don’t think we can afford to ignore this new evidence, I think she may be the key to the whole investigation.”

Betty had totally convinced me at this point, and I couldn’t believe I had wanted to take the woman’s role so lightly without giving it more thought. She looked over at me when she finished and I beamed back my approval of her theory, the other men of the group also seemed swayed.

“Seems like a very viable theory to me, anyone got any ideas how we can approach this evidence to find this other person?”

Everyone sat silent, the theory was sound, but all we had as a lead was a codebook and one de-coded message. Additionally the book itself was a standard looking spiral notebook, probably sold by the millions all over the country.

“I could get with Percy and see if there is anything else to glean out of the book,” Betty offered. “I could also get with the manufacturer of the notebook and see who sells that style in this area; it’s probably a long shot though.”

Everyone seemed agreeable to this; Betty would concentrate on the woman’s angle of the investigation while everybody else would continue to concentrate on finding Wesley as soon as possible.

“Larry and Tucker….can you guys take a second look at Wesley’s personal relationships? Dig a little deeper into his family if there is any; ask people who worked with him, neighbors, and friends if he had any. Also see if he was ever seen with a woman, such as a girlfriend, sister, anything like that.”

The meeting broke up and everyone went back to their part of the investigation. Betty stayed in her seat and I moved over to the seat next to her as the room cleared.

“Nice work Celtic,” I said with pride evident in my voice. She grabbed my hand under the table as she smiled at my compliment.

“Why thank you kind sir,” she responded with a fake southern accent, her eyes gleaming. “Seriously though, it will be hard to discover anything out of the evidence we have on hand so far,” she said with a little less enthusiasm.

“No, but if anyone can do it it’s you,” I came back. “Just follow the leads, add a little of that woman’s intuition you use so well and we’ll see what comes up.”

I squeezed her hand before rising from my chair. “I love you,” I said as I exited the room.

“Back at cha buddy.”

Chapter 43

March 16, 1997

The ring of the cell phone surprised the man when it went off at 4:56. He had turned it on every day between 4:00 PM and 5:00 PM as instructed. This was the first time it had gone off since he had been at the hideout.

“You will find new instructions in the culvert at the end of the driveway,” the raspy whisper instructed him. “Make damn sure you don’t retrieve it until dark,” his mentor finished, the connection clicking off immediately after the command.

At last, something to do
, the man thought. Boredom had taken a stranglehold on him in the old house, and he was anxious to get on to his next project.

Still having a couple of hours until it was completely dark, he decided to go ahead and fix his supper. He would start on any of the preparations tonight after dark if he could. He hoped that any traveling needed would take him past a store; he desperately wanted to pickup something to eat besides the bean soup he was limited to now.

As the smell of the heating beans started to fill the room, he sighed as he picked up the bowl and spoon and dished out a helping for supper.

“Beans again,” he said dejectedly as he scooped the first spoonful into his mouth.

Chapter 44

March 16, 1997

Lean McHenry needed twenty additional cameras to more or less completely cover the department and the jail
.
County Council had only approved money for three at this time.

Nevertheless he felt relieved, those three cameras having now been installed in the area of the evidence room. There would be no more instances of anyone sneaking into this area without being seen, and recorded.

Two of his deputies had been taking inventory of the stored evidence, finding but a few other items missing so far.

“A few too many,”
he thought to himself dejectedly. A list had been distributed detailing the additional missing items, and he desperately hoped that they were discovered soon, before the items found
him
like the others had.

Pulling the unlit cigarette out of his mouth and sticking it behind his ear, he sat back in his chair and let out a long deserved sigh of relief.