Bind, Torture, Kill: The Inside Story of BTK, the Serial Killer Next Door (33 page)

We should never interfere with the investigation,
he thought.
But we should never be naive, either.

Several of BTK’s drop locations were close to I-135 and he was working his way north. Landwehr wondered whether police should put up pole cameras on the interstate so investigators could check every license plate that had passed on days when BTK made his drops. They talked about it, but it just wasn’t practical. Thousands of drivers used I-135 every day. They would get no clear images; some cars would be obscured by other vehicles as they passed at sixty miles per hour.

They decided instead to try to coax BTK into taking more risks.

On January 4, Wichita endured one of the most destructive ice storms in its history. Rain fell heavily and froze quickly on tree limbs, which began to break off and pull down power lines. The breaking limbs sounded like cannon fire for hours. The next day, as tens of thousands of powerless Wichitans filled up local motels, and the
Eagle
’s newsroom had mobilized to cover the storm, Landwehr made another public statement.

“The investigation has revealed that a necklace belonging to Nancy Fox could not be accounted for after her murder. The necklace in question is described as a gold chain with two pearls that were set vertically. Police believe that…BTK may have given the necklace to a woman he was dating at the time.” He asked that “anyone who believes they have seen this necklace, or received a similar necklace as a gift in December of 1977 or the early months of 1978 please call the BTK tip line….”

Police released a photo of Nancy wearing the necklace. They hoped that someone would recognize it. They also hoped Landwehr’s talk would manipulate BTK into communicating again.

It did.

Four days after the ice storm, a man driving a black Jeep Cherokee drove into the parking lot of the Home Depot on North Woodlawn in northeast Wichita. The lot was packed. Thousands of tree limbs had fallen; Home Depot was selling a lot of chain saws. Automated security cameras recorded a blurry image of a vehicle circling the lot a few times, then parking. The driver walked to a nearby pickup truck and stood beside it. He appeared to put something into the bed of the truck.

Then he drove away.

Edgar Bishop worked at Home Depot. His friend Kelly Paul noticed a Special K cereal box in the truck bed. Written on the box in block letters were the words “BOMB” and “BTK PRE�”

Bishop thought it was a joke. When he and Paul opened the box, they found a beaded necklace and several pages of computer-typed notes. There was a page labeled “BOOM” with a note saying that anyone entering “BTK’s LAIR” would touch off an explosion. On another page there was a long list of “PJ’S,” including a paragraph about P. J. Wyatt.

It looked silly. Bishop thought someone was pulling his leg. He threw it all in the trash.

The Reverend Terry Fox had grown his Immanuel Baptist Church by hundreds of members in recent years by preaching a conservative religious message and by reaching out to families, including the poor. He’d become prominent statewide a few months before by leading an effort to put an anti-gay-marriage amendment on a statewide referendum. Fox now decided to focus on the city’s most prominent worry. He called for a community prayer meeting on January 11 to persuade BTK to confess his sins.

Some local pastors accused him of seeking publicity, but Fox persisted. He had hoped hundreds of people would show, but with people still living in shelters or motels and cleaning up after the storm, the church ended up welcoming only about a hundred people into its gymnasium. Two were cops: Deputy Chief Robert Lee and BTK Task Force Detective Kelly Otis.

Rader left this Kellogg’s Special K box featuring actress Courtney Thorne-Smith in the bed of a pickup truck in the parking lot of a Home Depot. This was the beginning of the end for Rader, as his Jeep Cherokee was caught on video by the security cameras.

Fox called the killer to action: “You have obviously made very poor choices, even tragic choices, up to this point. As a pastor, I am calling on you today to make the right choice in surrendering so that you can never hurt anyone again.”

No one came forward. At the back of the gym, Otis studied faces in the crowd.

The detectives had donated a lot of off-duty time, but the department was racking up overtime numbers that strained the budget, and there were other bills to pay. So it was with gratitude that the chief took several calls from a Kansas congressman. Republican representative Todd Tiahrt in January arranged that $1 million in federal money be sent to help the cops. To get it, Tiahrt had buttonholed House Speaker Dennis Hastert and Republican Majority Leader Tom DeLay, sometimes in their offices, sometimes on the House floor.

Williams and Landwehr were delighted. They used the money for overtime, rental cars, computers, DNA testing, and a long list of other needs.

Though grateful, they asked Tiahrt to keep his work on their behalf secret. Johnson told him they didn’t want BTK to know. Tiahrt agreed.

“But if you catch him, I want to be there,” he said.

On January 25, KAKE received a postcard from BTK. The return address was “S Killett” at “803 N. Edgemoor,” a reference to the Otero home. This missive was labeled “Communication #: 8.”

Date: Week of 1-17-2005

Where: Between 69th N and 77th N on Seneca St.

Contents: Post Tosties Box, C-9. PJ-Little Mex. & Doll,

Haunt of KS, Acronym List and Jewelry.

There was more, but news director Glen Horn told a KAKE reporter, Chris Frank, to drive immediately to the isolated rural road BTK mentioned and see if there was a package.

Horn then tried to decide what to tell the cops. He had tried, as the BTK story had unfolded, to do the right thing, sometimes consulting with journalism ethics experts at the Poynter Institute. He badly wanted KAKE to have exclusive access to whatever happened next.

He called the cops to say KAKE had a postcard.

Landwehr told Otis to go get it.

Otis hurried into the KAKE lobby minutes later and asked Horn for the postcard. To his amazement, Horn started trying to negotiate a deal. Horn told him he wanted video of the cops opening the package if one was found at the location named in the postcard. He also wanted Chief Williams to come to KAKE so they could get video of him.

“This is a homicide investigation,” Otis told Horn. “I need that message now.” But Horn kept talking, in a brusque tone.

Otis pulled out his cell phone, called Landwehr, and explained in a few curt words what Horn wanted. Otis then handed his cell phone to Horn. “He wants to talk to you,” Otis said grimly.

Horn took the phone.

“I am not gonna sit here and play
Let’s Make a Deal
with you,” Landwehr said. “Detective Otis needs that information now. You will either give that information to Detective Otis immediately, or he’s going to start arresting you and your people one at a time until your building is emptied out. He’ll arrest you for interfering with a homicide investigation.”

“All right,” Horn said.

Horn handed the phone back, then handed Otis the postcard.

Otis read it and walked out.

Horn would say later that it would not have bothered him to go to jail. “Throw me a harmonica and I would have sat in jail and played a song,” was how he put it. He wondered whether he had been too insistent with Otis. “On the other hand, being nice hadn’t gotten us anywhere, and I was tired of it.”

The BTK postcard had contained one more cryptic and tantalizing clue:

Let me know some how if you or Wichita PD received this. Also let me know if you or PD received # 7 at Home Depot. Drop Site 1-8-05. Thanks.

Before he called the cops, Horn had sent news anchor Larry Hatteberg to the two area Home Depots: “Start asking around if they’ve seen anything unusual.”

As he left KAKE, Otis called Gouge and Relph and told them to head to North Seneca.

When Otis got there, he found Gouge, Relph, and several people from KAKE-TV, including reporters Chris Frank and Jeanene Kiesling. Everyone was looking at a Post Toasties cereal box festooned with a red crepe streamer, weighed down with a brick, leaning against the base of a road-curve sign.

Gouge was unhappy. This stretch of Seneca was dirt; the reporters had driven right up the road and swerved close to the sign, obliterating any tire tracks that might have been there. Then they had walked to within a foot of the box, leaving footprints in the soft sand; any hope of finding BTK footprints was gone.

Gouge pointed to cigarette butts lying within a few feet of the box. Cops love to find cigarette butts at crime scenes�they can test them for DNA. Gouge told Otis he was going to collect them until Kiesling told him they were hers. The more Otis heard, the more he got pissed off. They would have to swab Kiesling now. Maybe they should make an exception in her case, and obtain her DNA with a needle and syringe. “
I want blood,
” Otis thought.

Otis looked around. They were in a rural area north of Wichita, between the towns of Valley Center and Park City.

Why did BTK put this stuff here?
It occurred to him that they were standing within long walking distance of Park City, the hometown of Dolores Davis and Marine Hedge…two women strangled, with their phone lines cut.

Landwehr showed up a few minutes later with a police lab specialist, Patrick Cunningham. Landwehr was still hot about the conversation with Horn; he was thinking about asking District Attorney Nola Foulston if KAKE was obstructing justice. Landwehr got more irritated when detectives showed him the cigarette butts and footprints.

Landwehr glanced over at the KAKE reporters.

“Did they open the box?” Landwehr asked.

“They said they didn’t, but who knows,” a detective replied.

“Chris, did you touch the box?” Landwehr asked in his usual cordial tone.

None of them had touched it, but Chris Frank, knowing Landwehr had a playful streak, made a little joke. “I was tempted to open it, but I didn’t have any milk to go with the cereal.”

“Well, Chris,” Landwehr said evenly, “if you had touched the box, I would have made sure that Nola gave you all the milk you needed in jail.”

Frank smiled. He thought Landwehr was joking.

Landwehr walked back to his detectives. “If we find any indication that they opened it, there are a whole bunch of newspeople who are going to go to jail today,” he said.

Otis showed him the postcard. Landwehr sent Gouge and Relph to check out the Home Depots. When they arrived at the store on North Woodlawn, they saw a KAKE truck already there. Hatteberg was inside, interviewing people ahead of the detectives.

This is why we don’t like the media,
Gouge thought.

A doll representing Josie Otero was found in a Post Toasties box left by Rader leaning against a sign on Seneca Street.

In the Post Toasties box, the detectives found the usual BTK creep show: a note, “BTK’S ACRONYM LIST,” and another doll, this one with a gag across the mouth and cords binding the wrists, waist, knees, and ankles. The doll was naked from the waist down, with the pubic area darkened by a marker. Rough rope connected the doll’s neck to a short piece of white plastic pipe. Landwehr recognized it as a taunting reminder of Josie Otero.

The note showed yet again that BTK fancied himself some sort of cop or secret agent. Cops love abbreviations; BTK loved them too, and had used a number of them in this note. He explained that SBT meant Sparky Big Time, or masturbation. SXF was sexual fantasy. DBS was Death By Strangulation. DTPG was Death to Pretty Girl. There were many more.

There was no reference to the other package mentioned on the postcard, and interviews and searches at the two Home Depot stores turned up nothing. Detectives asked store managers to post a notice in the employee break rooms, asking whether anyone had seen or found anything strange in recent weeks.