Match Play (4 page)

Phoenix Police Department Conference Room, Phoenix, Arizona, Tuesday, March 19

D
etective Howard
is sitting near one end of the conference table, appearing fresh and rested while eating a pastry and drinking a cup of designer coffee. Detective Sharp enters the room carrying a cup of coffee from the break room. He appears disheveled but his presence commands an air of authority as he motions to the photos on the table. Howard had picked up the envelope of crime scene pictures and was in the process of spreading them out on the table. He mouths good morning to Sharp.

“Hey,” says Sharp, knowing that neither man is talkative first thing. He chooses the seat at the opposite end of the table and grunts slightly as he sits down. He glances at Howard who is licking chocolate frosting off his fingers. “Christ, those pictures are bad enough without having them be sticky too!” he grumbles. Howard turns his head up and says nothing. Sharp sips his coffee and rolls a cigarette between his fingers.

Officers Barrios and Jackson push through the door, laughing, sharing a private joke. Both acknowledge the detectives, and then sit at the door side of the table with their notebooks and a cup of coffee each, anticipating the coroner’s report. Jackson leans forward and considers the photos in front of Howard, blinks a couple of times and says nothing.

Dr. Nancy Cochran walks in with an arm full of folders and a cup of coffee. She’s not wearing glasses this morning and the men in the room are astonished at the bright green color of her eyes. Her hair is pinned up, and she is alert, attractive and very professional. She positions herself next to Sharp.

“Good morning, gentlemen. For those of you who missed it last night, I’m Dr. Nancy Cochran, assistant coroner. My background in a nutshell: I have a master’s in psychology, I have worked as a forensic pathologist with the FBI and I’m particularly interested in serial killers.”

The men nod their acknowledgment and Sharp asks, “What have you got, doctor?”

Nancy opens the top file. “All right, regarding the body: the victim was drugged with a combination of a relaxant for the calming effect and Oxycodone, for the narcotic numbing effect. She was probably conscious when her throat was cut. The absence of blood at the scene convinces me she was exsanguinated in the bathtub. The contents from the bathtub drain suggest the killer actually held her head above the drain as he cut her throat. He opened her carotids, collected the blood for the bowl, drained the tub and dissected her. His intent obviously was to minimize the amount of blood spilled around the apartment. He must have left her there for some time before dissecting her; she was well bled out when he started moving the body parts. The exception is the head. I think he very likely decapitated her as soon as he collected the blood. Her blood pressure would have dropped enough to do so. Her hair was matted with blood and there was no dilution.”

Detective Howard pushes the photos away.

She continues, “It appears he may have transferred the head to the bowl as soon as it was severed and the collected blood was already in place which would account for the blood in the bowl and on the counter. I have concluded he must have then closed the shower and ran warm water to keep the blood from coagulating. The torso and appendages show a remarkable lack blood. When he was satisfied of the anemia, he apparently dried the body and removed the appendages and the breasts. The bloodstained towels are simply from the drying and moving of the parts, they are saturated with the victim’s blood. The dismemberment was achieved with surgical precision, and in my opinion, the knife is similar to a scalpel. I have performed hundreds of autopsies and could not have executed a more precise series of cuts. I would have to surmise that the killer is experienced and has more than likely committed similar crimes in the past.

“The head: it is my opinion that he intentionally allowed the head to bleed into the bowl and the blood overflowed as the fluids exceeded the volume of the bowl. Upon thorough examination of the skull I found no evidence of trauma or blunt force injury. I found nothing in the orifices and no indication of why he placed the head in that position.

“The torso: the killer used green food coloring on the abdomen. The indented lesions from where he removed the breasts and appendages were filled with either sugar or laundry detergent; we have not received the results from the lab. The pennant that was stuck in her navel penetrated all the way to the spine. Detective Howard, please distribute the photos of the torso.”

Dr. Cochran waits as the photos are passed around and everyone has a chance to examine them.

“As you can all see, the killer is trying to make some kind of statement about golf. His intent was to transform the torso into a golf green. According to my colleagues, white substances are representative of the sand traps, the rest is obvious. We believe he brought the food coloring and pennant with him. Finally, the killer inserted a golf ball into the victim’s vagina. The absence of mucous or any other fluids convinces me it was inserted after she died. There is no indication of sexual trauma and we found no DNA.”

“Christ,” mumbles Sam Sharp.

Dr. Cochran continues, “The breasts: the breasts were perfectly excised; if he had taken the lymph glands one might have thought it was a routine mastectomy. My colleagues and I cannot account for the placement of the breasts beside the torso. There is deliberateness about the placement that suggests significance of some kind. The nipples were not found. There was no evidence of them in the garbage disposal or in the residue from the other drains. They could have been flushed down the toilet; only the killer knows.”

“What about prints?” bellows Sharp.

“Yes,” answers Cochran. “We have a number of good clear prints but nothing to compare them to. I suspect most will be family members and friends; we can match them when we know more. I do not think there is much chance that the killer made a mistake and left a print. The wine glasses and wine bottles have been wiped and some of the other surfaces around the kitchen appear to have been wiped as well.

“The appendages: there isn’t much to say about the arms and legs except they were ignored. The killer only took the parts of the body he needed, the appendages were not included, and therefore they were left in the tub. My only comment would be to say again that they were removed with the precision of a surgeon.”

“What about the other golf stuff?” interrupts Sharp.

“I was coming to that,” continues the coroner as she distributes another group of photos. “The portion of newspaper you bagged contained the rankings from the Wild Fire Golf Club, the LPGA tournament for the day before. It is a listing of the leading players by score, lowest score first and then ranked on up. We found the significance rather intriguing. The letters of the player’s names were blocked out except these letters, from which we derived this scramble: MATCH PLAY. Please refer to photo #3 in the group you just received. It appears the killer is creating a contest. Golf is tied in somehow, and in his mind the play is just beginning.”

She continues, “The scorecard is marked on the sixth hole. According to the golfers in the lab, the three in the circle indicates that he birdied the hole. It is actually a par 4 and he scored one less than par; birdie. The 1 up written above the score indicates again, according to my colleagues who are familiar with golf, that he won the hole and he is scoring the imagined contest as match play. They were confused as to why he scored it a birdie. On a side note, after some research of the Wild Fire course, we have concluded that the killer mimicked the actual 6th hole using the placement of the sand traps and the shape of the green.”

Officer Jackson adds, “I play golf regularly with some friends and occasionally we play match play. It isn’t like stroke play; in stroke play you play a certain number of holes, usually eighteen which consist of four par 3’s, ten par 4’s, and four par 5’s. Par is the pre-determined number of strokes that a golfer should require to complete a hole.

“So a par 3 should take three strokes and that is said to be a score of par, and on eighteen holes the sum of the pars is generally seventy-two. Depending on the sum of your scores on each hole you will either be par, under par, or over par. You add up your score for all the holes at the end of the round of eighteen holes and low score wins.

“In match play, each hole is scored separately. If you are the low score on the hole you win the hole, but you win only that hole and you are said to be 1 up. If you lose, you are 1 down and the players move to the next hole. Then if the same player wins the next hole with a low score, he is 2 up. The player you are playing is 2 down because he lost both holes. Ties are carried over so no one wins if the scores on the hole are the same. If you are playing eighteen holes the first person to win the majority of holes is the winner. Example: Two players playing eighteen holes: Player A wins seven holes; Player B wins eight holes, and they tied on three holes. Player B, who won eight holes, wins the majority and wins match play.”

“So, our killer is saying he won the hole and
with
a birdie?” Jackson’s eyes widen and he shakes his head with the realization. “We are 1 down.”

“But if he’s playing match play, he has to win the majority of holes to win the match. Do
we
win if we catch him?” asks Detective Howard.

“That’s right,” agrees Nancy. “If he is playing a typical eighteen hole match, and we don’t know that or the reason for the birdie, but if what we’ve surmised is correct, he is just beginning. We don’t know how to tie or win a hole.

“As I said earlier, I can’t explain the placement of the breasts or the absence of the nipples. We found hairs on the bagged clothing, some did not belong to the victim, but without someone to compare them with they are as valueless as the prints. The rest of the golf equipment was of no help; the 3 iron had some blood residue that matches the victim. There is no evidence that she had been struck with it.”

Nancy hesitates and takes a breath. “In my years with the Phoenix PD, we haven’t had too many cases exhibiting this kind of carnage. I have read the related literature and I will tell you what I believe. If as the evidence indicates, he is just getting started, there will be more killings until he is caught. As I said, he needs to win a majority of the holes to win the match, but the match could be nine, eighteen, thirty-six or even seventy-two holes. The planning, the cleanliness, the absence of evidence are all what you would expect from this type of killer.

“In his mind, he is a hole ahead of us already. If his conception is realized, it will play out systematically and predictably, which may be the only chance of catching him. This is an individual who is twenty-five to forty years of age, intelligent, self-assured, and probably isolated socially. I would surmise from the crime scene that he is also a very compulsive individual. Everything is calculated, carefully orchestrated and executed with complete detachment and no remorse. One might compare it to a recurring sexual obsession: now that he has tasted the power, the omnipotence of the act, he will have to repeat it again and again.

“The report on the knives is a perfect indication of this type of compulsiveness. ‘Sharp as scalpels’ is what I said. You can bet the killer’s tools are like religious relics, almost sacred; they have seen him through extraordinary circumstances. Believe me, he treats these knives with love, he trusts them. The crime isn’t about sex, it’s about power. He’s saying, ‘I can do whatever I want, and you can’t stop me.’ The crime and the contest are essential to him, everything else is secondary.” Nancy Cochran pauses, rubs her eyes, and stares directly at Detective Sharp. “I have concluded that the nipples are his trophies.”

Detective Sharp stands and addresses the group. “We need to get this to VICAP as soon as possible. Does anyone have information not discussed here today?”

Officer Barrios says, “The victim’s sister said she was to play golf on Sunday, March 17. What if she just went to the tournament as an observer? We should talk to whoever she was with that day.”

“Excuse me?” interrupts Officer Jackson. “I just want to say this, probably not important, but it’s been bothering me since yesterday.”

“Let’s have it!” barks Sharp.

“When we received the call for this murder, we were down the street on another call a few street numbers away. The callers, an elderly couple named Farryton, were afraid to enter their apartment because of a broken window in a patio door. They suspected burglars. We took their key and entered, nothing had been disturbed and nothing was missing, so we filed a normal report: kids or vandals. What had broken the window was a golf ball, Mrs. Farryton found it behind a kitchen counter. It was unremarkable except it had a big red 2 sort of smeared on it, not the way you would normally mark a golf ball. Anyway, we bagged it and turned it in with our report.”

“I’ll want to see that ball in the lab,” says Dr. Cochran. “I’ll get it from properties when I leave here. How far would you say that the Farryton’s place is from the crime scene?”

“I guess a couple hundred yards to the south. Wouldn’t you think that’s about right, Bill?” Jackson looks over at Barrios.

Detective Howard bursts in, “What if he actually hit it? The victim’s blood was on the 4 iron lying by the open patio doors. I don’t hit mine that far, but if this guy is a golf pro he certainly could have. The open patio doors where the breasts were placed were on the north side of the victim’s apartment.”

“So why hit the damn ball?” Sharp again.

Barrios says, “The patio doors in the victim’s place face south, toward the Farryton’s place.”

Dr. Cochran can barely contain her excitement. “The golf tee on the floor between the breasts, the open doors, the breasts flanking the door! He set up the tee markers for the next hole. The breasts are the markers, he even left the tee as a clue. He teed the ball up on the carpet and hit it out the door with that 3 iron. It only landed in this elderly couple’s apartment by chance. He’s telling you he’s already playing the second hole.”

“Christ!” mutters Sharp.

“I’d bet my diploma that the 2 on that ball is written in the victim’s blood, and I can assure you, he is just beginning. If he is connected with the LPGA, he’s already left town. You need to get this case over to the FBI as soon as possible. If he’s local, he’ll kill again here. You won’t have to wait long until he does.”