John: The Senior Killer (28 page)

Paul’s friends name was
Howard and he lived alone in a small house on the outskirts of
town. He was retired from the fruit factory in town and lived a
solitary life doing nothing. He was happy to be here today and it
was obvious to Paul his memory of where he was and what he was
doing was not so good. Paul saw a man walk to a microphone and the
historical story of the Spruce Goose was about to begin.

Meanwhile at the FBI
trailer Nancy and the other agents, including Billy looked at the
computer printouts and all agreed now the hard part was ahead of
them: waiting. Also to make sure if the killer made a run for it, a
block or so outside the gate of the airport was now lined with
police cars bumper to bumper and men were in place to lay a mat
strip of nails to flatten the tires of a vehicle in a car chase. By
the time word came to them the killer was making an escape attempt,
they would have time to stretch the nails across the road and the
police cars lined up would act as a funnel.

Billy was outside the
trailer chain smoking listening to the faint sound of the guy
giving the history lesson. All was quiet as only a few cars
trickled in and most of them had more than one passenger. Everyone
had about an hour to wait as the speech drug on before the cars
started to leave as that was the last event for the day.

Driving along the ridge top
of a large mountain, the air was crisp and clear. Not a cloud in
the sky and no wind to speak of. Inside the suburban, John was
talking a mile a minute and had his thermos of coffee with knock
out pills ready to share with the two gents from Portland. If they
drank the coffee, it would be all over in a matter of minutes. With
two of them the knock out pills was the best way to do this kill.
While he noticed a wide spot to pull over John suggested they stop
and take a look with glasses at the possibility of seeing some elk.
Both agreed as they pulled over while John handed the older guy in
the backseat a cup of coffee. While he was reaching across the back
of his seat in front with his right hand to pass the coffee, faster
than he could remember anyone moving, a pair of handcuffs tightened
on one wrist while the car came to an abrupt stop and the driver
had his left hand raised up and thrown back to make a neat pair of
locked wrists all within a few seconds times. John, having been
turned was thrown against the dashboard from the sudden stop his
mouth hanging open stared into the meanest set of eyes he’d ever
seen. It didn’t take but a fraction of a second to recognize the
dog and knew the game was up.

The Spruce Goose event was
over. The crowd slowly made their way to their cars and pickup
trucks. Most of the vehicles had more than one person in them.
Parents brought both kids and grandparents to see the
show.

Paul and his new friend
Howard walked to Paul’s car. He helped the old guy in because he
was as feeble physically as mentally. The traffic was slow to get
out the gate as security checked each car on the way out. Paul felt
comfortable with his ID and expected no problems on the way out to
Newburg and leaving his new friend staring at the ceiling with
lifeless eyes.

In the FBI trailer activity
was at its peak. Checking cars with one passenger coming in with
more than one going out; or more than what came in for that matter.
Two times they thought they had him when one car had an additional
passenger. Turned out an old friend was taking a ride with them
home. Another one had a single guy coming in, but two going out. In
that case two old friends had met and were going for a beer
downtown.

Paul was starting to get a
little nervous. There was too much activity up front of the long
line to get out. However, he was determined to stay the course and
complete the mission his brother gave him.

Nancy was pleased about the
way it was going. Agents in the field were patrolling the fence
line and the checkout was going smoothly. They were, she guessed
about half way through. Billy was jabbering like magpies and always
reaching for a cigarette when Nancy told him to light up before he
drove her crazy. Billy smiled and almost tore his shirt pocket
digging out a Marlboro. At the checkout booth all could hear what
the agents said while talking to the vehicles leaving.

Only one car was between
Paul and the checkout guys. There was one on each side of the car
checking ID’s. Now it was his turn as he slowly made his way to the
stopping point and rolled down his window. The guy smiled and asked
for his ID and the same on the other side with his passenger
Howard. About that time from in the FBI trailer an agent said, “Red
alert, we got something here with that car at the checkout point.
It came in with one person and now has two.”

Nancy came on point and
said in her mouth piece which went directly to the agents at the
checkout point that something was up and to make sure the stories
they were hearing rang true.

Paul had sweat running down
his forehead and when his security guard reached up and listen to
what someone was telling him he panicked and stuck his foot to the
floor and took off like a shot. An alert went out for the make,
model and color of the car down the line of waiting police cars. By
now the car that was in front of Paul had cleared the end of the
line of police cars and that was when Paul from a block away saw
some guys dragging something across the road. He kept his foot to
the floor and Howard had slipped down in the seat holding onto his
open window frame. Paul foolishly thought if he could only make to
the end of the line of cars he could maybe get away.

Policemen who witnessed the
end of the chase described it this way. The car hit the spike belt
and all four tires went flat. The car veered sideways to the left
and the driver tried to right the slide and over steered making the
car do a three sixty in the middle of the road coming to a rest
pointing out. The driver tried to go, but on four flat tires went
nowhere. By that time the car was surrounded by police holding guns
and yelling to stick their hands out the windows.

At about the same time
Nancy and with Billy riding with her drove up to the circle of blue
clad police mixed with agents in suits to see, what they thought
was John the Senior Killer with handcuffs up against his car. Poor
old Howard was cuffed too, but shortly they realized he was the
intended victim not the serial killer.

Nancy told the agents to
bring him to the FBI trailer for a little interrogation. When she
arrived back at the hanger, the members of Brad’s team waited for
the suspect to arrive. When he was out of the car Wendy noticed
this guy didn’t quite look like the guy she remembered from the pig
farm. Oh well, she thought, he is disguised and soon we will see
the real face underneath the makeup.

Paul was led up into the
trailer and by then he was crying and mumbling about his brother,
but he wasn’t making sense as Wendy and the team looked at him
sitting on a metal chair while two agents with rags went after his
face like a mother with a boy who just ate ice cream and cake. By
the time they got him cleaned up, he stopped crying and asked to
see his brother. He said, “I need to call my brother. He is
expecting a phone call from me as soon as possible.”

Nancy made sure and read
him his rights and made sure he understood if he talked to them
without a lawyer present any and all……… ..”

He told her yes, he
understood and was ready to talk. He looked around for the first
time and saw a tall woman talking to him and so many other people
staring at him he thought like he was the center of attraction. He
sat up straight and stuck out his chest and chin smiling at them
like a little kid in a candy store

Nancy said, “What is your
name and where do you live?”

He said, with a loud clear
voice, “My name is Paul Mitchell and I live in the Bald Hills on a
pig farm.”

“What is your brother’s
name,” she said looking at Wendy.

“Which one?” He
asked.

“How many brothers do you
have,” Nancy asked him.

“There are three of us
brothers.”

“Names please,” she asked
with a smile as he was warming to the discussion.

“The oldest is John, then
I’m next, Paul and the last one is Edward. We are
triplets.”

“Paul, would you mind if we
took your finger prints now?”

“Not at all, I’m glad to
help. I’m glad this is over as my head was starting to throb,” as
he rubbed his temples. An agent quickly, but efficiently took his
fingerprints and found out in a few minutes they were not John’s as
suspected. Upon hearing the report all of the team and Nancy smiled
at the knowledge of what Brad had guessed right what John the
serial killer was going to do on Halloween.

Chapter 20

On the ride back to camp,
John sat quietly while no words were spoken until they arrived back
where the SUV and camper trailer was parked. Mike unloaded some
camp chairs and the three of them sat in a circle. It was cold so
Mike built a fire so they could stay warm. John sat and watched not
saying a word. Brad was thinking what Wendy had told him if they
caught the killer to make him think he was smart and done a good
job. That way he would open up if you showed him some respect. Brad
took the advice to heart and after the fire started to burn he said
to John, “John, I have the utmost respect for your plan and how you
carried it out. We appreciate you not making your victims suffer.
I’m afraid, John, you gave us too many clues and, well, here we sit
on top of a mountain in Eastern Oregon around a warm fire
discussing the chase you led us on. Do you know John there was over
a thousand agents working on this case. Your operation cost the
government over one hundred million dollars. Quite a feat I would
say John. If you don’t mind would you tell Mike and I how it all
started? No tape recording or anything like that. There are just
the three of us sitting on a mountain with no one within a mile of
here to hear us talk.”

John sat there looking from
Brad to Mike and then to the dog which sat quietly next to his
master. John had heard what he said as he looked down at his hands
in cuffs between his legs. He raised his hands and showed that he
would like them removed as a compromise to his situation. Brad
removed the handcuffs and John rubbed his wrists and then held his
hands out to the fire as the temperature was dropping fast. It
would freeze hard tonight, he thought. Looking up as if it was his
last look at life, he said, “It all started when we were kids,” in
a voice that at first was what they were used to and then his voice
started to change taking on a young adolescent about ten or twelve.
A higher voice before puberty, Brad thought. “My daddy would come
home drunk and beat us kids for no reason and then locking us in
the dark room under the kitchen. The small room only had a dirt
floor. It was always cold and pitch black. Daddy had a drop cord
with a light on it he would bring into the room when he needed to
stick his thing in one of us kids. It hurt so bad and he would slap
our bare butts and yell things we couldn’t understand. Most of the
time it was Edward who was the youngest and softer than Paul or me”
John stopped for a minute and as Brad and Mike were not unused to
horror stories, this one ranked at the top of their list for
abuse.

John eyes seemed to change a
little and his head lolled around on his neck looking like he was
struggling with his inner demons. The inner boy went to say, “Momma
was no good and no one missed her when we killed her.”

“Where did you bury her
John,” Brad asked.

A smile crossed his face and
said, “Her bones are in the pig pen. Daddy is there too.” Brad
wondered who was buried in the town’s cemetery.

Brad asked him, “Where are
Paul and your other brother Edward?”

John played with his fingers
and stuck his legs out to warm his feet staring into the fire.
After a minute or two, which seemed like an hour he said, “Paul is
in McMinnville and Edward is at the pig farm.” His voice changed
back to his normal one and it didn’t go unnoticed by Brad and Mike.
Now he looked at both Mike and Brad with a smile and eyes that were
defiant. Brad realized that Wendy would love to have a shot at his
guy and what John didn’t know was Rocky in his collar had a small
tape recorder turning slowly on a ninety minute tape.

“John,” Brad asked while he
rubbed Rockies head, “Why did you give us so many
clues?”

Laughing now he said, “I
could have gone on forever and you never would have caught me if I
hadn’t given you a clue now and then. It was a game of cat and
mouse and it lasted long enough for me to get some revenge for
myself and brothers against mean old people who think it is ok to
beat the hell out of their children. Now maybe all that have read
and watched the news about me and my brothers will not sleep so
well thinking about how they treated their kids in the past. It’s
over and I’m ready to accept whatever punishment is due. What you
hear now is the dominant John and I keep the lid on the others who
lurk just under me waiting to have a chance to emerge and say a
thing or two. Paul is not that gifted to have more than one inside
like me. I have the best of many worlds and what a game sometimes
it is to play with people. I can’t wait till a half dozen shrink’s
ply their trade with me trying to see what makes me and my others
tick. Good luck is all I can say.” He sat there staring into the
fire as Mike made ready the camper trailer and suburban to leave.
It was growing dark and a cool breeze was moving the tall thin
Lodge pole pine back and forth.