Read Online 2 in the Hat by Raffi Yessayan - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Raffi Yessayan
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Josh and Courtney went from the game?” Alves asked.
“Either the reservoir or the park at Cleveland Circle.”
“Not one of their rooms?”
“Their friends said that’s where they liked to go to be alone. But that night there was no being alone anywhere. On top of the rowdy BC diehards, there were busloads of Seminole fans up from Tallahassee.”
“Sounds like you were there,” Alves said.
“I was. Working a detail. That’s what makes it so hard to believe he pulled it off without being seen. He’s getting bolder. And better.”
“Did you ever have any real suspects?”
“We had a few guys with bad records but no evidence connecting them. The first vics, Adams and Flowers, were killed where they were found. The others were staged at secondary crime scenes. Where are the photos from the first scene?”
Alves shuffled through the stack and found the manila envelope with the photos and handed it to Mooney. Alves had spent the last couple hours organizing the boxes and looking through the files. “Reports indicate it was a nice night. Looks like Kelly Adams and Eric Flowers snuck out of their prom at the Sheraton Prudential for a walk that led them to the Fens. Next morning a runner found them dead on the grass between a park bench and some shrubs.”
Mooney flipped through the photos. “My first time working a serial murder. I’d seen plenty of domestics, bar fights turned fatal, even mob hits. But nothing like this. The victims were dressed up in their prom clothes. The only victims wearing the clothes they were killed in. After that, the victims were dressed up by the killer. Flowers’s shirt had a stel-late pattern, a four-pointed star-shaped tear.” Mooney made a rough diamond with his index fingers and thumbs. “There was also tattooing, bruising in the shape of an elongated gun barrel opening.”
“A contact shot like the others.”
“Eric Flowers was shot three times in the chest, one entry wound. He may have struggled a little, but he bled out quickly.”
“Belsky found four slugs with one entry wound and similar tattooing on Kipping. I’ll have Belsky compare the tattooing on all the male autopsy photos. I took the slugs to Stone. They’re a match. That leaves us with the females,” Alves said, holding up a photo of Kelly Adams, lying in the grass next to her prom date.
“She was strangled,” Mooney said, “probably with bare hands, just like the other females. The thing is she had a real tattoo of the Tai-ji. After that, he started stamping the symbol on the other girls with a craft store stamper.” Mooney tossed a balled-up napkin on the table. “This whole Tai-ji thing is bullshit. He’s using that because he saw Kelly’s tattoo and thought it would throw us off. I bet he doesn’t even know what it means. He certainly doesn’t know what it should look like. The last two times he’s stamped it upside down.”
“Does it matter if the white is on the right or the left?”
“The white side representing heat should be rising and the dark side, the cool side, should be settling. Another thing. Kelly and Eric were dragged from the park bench behind some bushes.” Mooney handed a picture to Alves. “The killer didn’t use any wires, and the staging was simple, but it looked like they were lying next to each other, having a picnic or something. Somewhere along the way he shoves the Chinese fortune in her mouth.”
“The
Herald
always comes up with a great headline,” Alves read from a cut-and-pasted headline, “ PROM NIGHT, BLOODY PROM NIGHT! ”
“The media were ridiculous. The city was hitting an all-time low in the homicide rate. Good for the average Joe, bad for newspapers. These first murders gave the press a jump start. They made the killer out to be the next Boston Strangler. I think he killed impulsively the first time. Pure luck he didn’t get caught.” Mooney pointed to a gruesome photo of the young lovers, lying in the grass. “Then the newspapers make
“Either the reservoir or the park at Cleveland Circle.”
“Not one of their rooms?”
“Their friends said that’s where they liked to go to be alone. But that night there was no being alone anywhere. On top of the rowdy BC diehards, there were busloads of Seminole fans up from Tallahassee.”
“Sounds like you were there,” Alves said.
“I was. Working a detail. That’s what makes it so hard to believe he pulled it off without being seen. He’s getting bolder. And better.”
“Did you ever have any real suspects?”
“We had a few guys with bad records but no evidence connecting them. The first vics, Adams and Flowers, were killed where they were found. The others were staged at secondary crime scenes. Where are the photos from the first scene?”
Alves shuffled through the stack and found the manila envelope with the photos and handed it to Mooney. Alves had spent the last couple hours organizing the boxes and looking through the files. “Reports indicate it was a nice night. Looks like Kelly Adams and Eric Flowers snuck out of their prom at the Sheraton Prudential for a walk that led them to the Fens. Next morning a runner found them dead on the grass between a park bench and some shrubs.”
Mooney flipped through the photos. “My first time working a serial murder. I’d seen plenty of domestics, bar fights turned fatal, even mob hits. But nothing like this. The victims were dressed up in their prom clothes. The only victims wearing the clothes they were killed in. After that, the victims were dressed up by the killer. Flowers’s shirt had a stel-late pattern, a four-pointed star-shaped tear.” Mooney made a rough diamond with his index fingers and thumbs. “There was also tattooing, bruising in the shape of an elongated gun barrel opening.”
“A contact shot like the others.”
“Eric Flowers was shot three times in the chest, one entry wound. He may have struggled a little, but he bled out quickly.”
“Belsky found four slugs with one entry wound and similar tattooing on Kipping. I’ll have Belsky compare the tattooing on all the male autopsy photos. I took the slugs to Stone. They’re a match. That leaves us with the females,” Alves said, holding up a photo of Kelly Adams, lying in the grass next to her prom date.
“She was strangled,” Mooney said, “probably with bare hands, just like the other females. The thing is she had a real tattoo of the Tai-ji. After that, he started stamping the symbol on the other girls with a craft store stamper.” Mooney tossed a balled-up napkin on the table. “This whole Tai-ji thing is bullshit. He’s using that because he saw Kelly’s tattoo and thought it would throw us off. I bet he doesn’t even know what it means. He certainly doesn’t know what it should look like. The last two times he’s stamped it upside down.”
“Does it matter if the white is on the right or the left?”
“The white side representing heat should be rising and the dark side, the cool side, should be settling. Another thing. Kelly and Eric were dragged from the park bench behind some bushes.” Mooney handed a picture to Alves. “The killer didn’t use any wires, and the staging was simple, but it looked like they were lying next to each other, having a picnic or something. Somewhere along the way he shoves the Chinese fortune in her mouth.”
“The
Herald
always comes up with a great headline,” Alves read from a cut-and-pasted headline, “ PROM NIGHT, BLOODY PROM NIGHT! ”
“The media were ridiculous. The city was hitting an all-time low in the homicide rate. Good for the average Joe, bad for newspapers. These first murders gave the press a jump start. They made the killer out to be the next Boston Strangler. I think he killed impulsively the first time. Pure luck he didn’t get caught.” Mooney pointed to a gruesome photo of the young lovers, lying in the grass. “Then the newspapers make
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