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Authors: Dick C. Waters

BOOK: Branded for Murder
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She was happy we had come to visit, and we were both captivated by her. However she could read the tea leaves, and now guided us to the door. On the way upstairs I felt for the coin she had given me, wondering if it was a ‘heads up’ kind of day after all.

Chapter 67

 

Mike and Paul were headed to the city jail where Vincenti had been held.

“So Mike, you mentioned when you talked to the AG, he asked you to conduct an investigation into the Vincenti murder. Why did he call you and not someone else closer to him?”

“You know Paul, I was wondering that myself. Maybe it’s because we were involved with his apprehension, or because we were close to Paddy. I really don’t know. Maybe he wants someone to crucify when I tell him what we find out.” He thought about his long career with the Boston PD, wondering if his days were numbered.
If this is the kind of stuff Paddy used to put up with, maybe he could understand why Paddy set up his own private investigation firm.

“You know Mike, I shouldn’t say this, but maybe this was meant to happen to Vincenti. He killed many women. It’s a small world…maybe someone felt he needed this kind of justice.”

“I can’t jump to conclusions, but if the guy was alone in his cell how was he murdered?”

 

*.*.*

 

Fifteen minutes later, Mike and Paul were being escorted to Vincenti’s cell. The inmates were in lock down. When the men passed in front of their cells, they were greeted with many ugly superlatives. He tried to focus on the job at hand, wondering what kind of reception he was going to receive when they arrived at the cell.

There were two guards outside the cell when they arrived. The cell was the last one on the upper level, furthest from the guard station where they entered the cell block. He looked at the guards, but they didn’t seem to care about their arrival. Their escort was a sergeant, not too happy they were included in the investigation. He waved his hand to convey the cell was theirs to do their thing. They had passed the Medical Examiner on the way to the cell. He and the sergeant had a brief, quiet conversation.

Mike looked at the body on the small cot. The man was nude, covered in blood from head to toe. He walked over to the side of the cot, making some notes for later. There was a deep gash in Vincenti’s neck, which looked about two inches wide, and extremely deep. Blood had spurted out across his body, hitting against the wall to the left of the cot. There were other numerous stab wounds but they didn’t look that deep. They had been inflicted earlier.

There was a dark pool of blood in the groin area. When he looked more closely, the man’s penis and testicles had been removed. He looked around but didn’t see them.

“Mike, what you’re looking for is over here,” Paul said as he pointed to the toilet which was also covered in blood. He went over, seeing the objects floating in the john. “How the hell does something like this happen without someone noticing?” He looked over at the sergeant and stated, “Sergeant, I see only one bunk in here. I take it he did not have a roomy. Is that correct?”

“That’s right; he was purposely being kept isolated from the other population as much as possible.”

“What’s your take on all of this?” Mike asked.

“I’m glad you asked. It looks like someone didn’t care much for Mr. Vincenti…took his prized possessions away while he was still alive, then gave him some other cuts before finally killing him. Unfortunately, it looks like it has to be someone with a key.” The two guards who seemed oblivious to everything laughed out loud.

“I would look for a family member of one of the women he strangled.” He was smiling. “If someone had given me ten bucks I would have used a rusty knife myself, but no one offered…I will deny saying that. A trial was going to be too good for him. They might have even found him insane. Good riddance to scum like this. I only hope he suffered more than the women he killed.”

Mike went back to making notes, but knew the autopsy would reveal much more than what he was writing down.
So what do I tell the AG about my investigation—the internal justice system takes care of matters like this guy. It does look like it was a guard who did this. Wouldn’t the guard have been covered in blood? Wouldn’t his uniform be saturated?

Mike noticed a few footprints on the floor, like someone had worn socks or something covering his feet instead of shoes.
Maybe if it was a guard, he had removed his uniform.
He looked at Vincenti’s face closely. It appeared that he had been hit on the side of the head.
Someone came in, knocked him out, undressed and stripped Vincenti’s clothes off, make that cut them off noticing the pile of clothes in the corner, and then when he woke up cut him several times including removing his special parts.

He had a pretty good picture of the scenario. He looked over at the sergeant and the two guards who were studying him, smiling. “Sergeant, can I get a list of the staff on duty last night?”

“Sure.” He came into the cell. “But, that won’t be necessary. We think we know who did it.” The sergeant waved for us to follow him.

“Paul let’s go. I think we’re about to learn who killed Vincenti,” Mike announced.

 

*.*.*

 

Five minutes later, they were brought into a small conference room near the rear of the jail. Shortly after, a man in a suit came in and sat down.

“Mr. Miller we can make this entire process a little easier on everyone. I’m Alan Ford, responsible for the city jail and court annex next door. We realized when we saw the scene that the person who killed Vincenti had to have access to his jail cell. It didn’t take much effort to narrow down the staff on duty last night.”

He shook his head, continuing, “One of our supervisors, Jose Gomez, lost a niece to the strangler. When we interviewed him a few minutes ago, he told us he killed Vincenti. Outside of the people who were in that room, the sergeant that brought you here, you are the only ones who know about this development. Now I understand the AG sent you over here to conduct your own investigation. So, how do you want to proceed?”

Mike looked at Paul then at Mr. Ford. “If you don’t mind I would like to call the AG and discuss this with him.”

“I understand. Let me take you to a phone you can use.” Mike watched as Mr. Ford got up, turning to add, “Mike, we’re not all bad here at this facility. Gomez wasn’t bad either. He was a very capable and dedicated staff member. He was respected by everyone he worked with.”

He continued, explaining, “I asked him why he did this and he told us ‘his niece might not have been the best person in the world, but she didn’t deserve what he did to her. He told us he mentioned to Vincenti who his niece was and asked if he remembered her. Vincenti kind of passed it off, saying he didn’t recognize her name.”

Mr. Ford put his hands on the table in front of them and added, “Jose told him she was a dancer and asked if he remembered her now. He said Vincenti just gave him a sly smile…that’s when Jose lost it and stabbed him, but didn’t kill him. A minute or so later he said he made Vincenti aware of his fate and he cried like a baby begging him not to…that was just before he took his manhood. He said he killed him to save the trouble of a trial and the families the embarrassment of reliving his crimes.”

“Well I guess I don’t know what to say,” Mike remarked, getting up from the table to follow him.

 

*.*.*

 

“Yes, that’s right Mr. Young, it was one of the guard supervisors who killed him. His niece was one of the strangler’s victims. Is there anything more you want me to do here?” Mike asked.

“NO. Shit, what a fucking year this is going to be. Thanks.”

Mike heard the click in his ear.
Thank God Vincenti confessed to the crimes, or the public would be skeptical about his guilt. He thought about the pictures of the murdered women, wondering if he would have done the same thing if it was his family. He considered the latest set of murders—one killer down, one more to go. I’m going to go see Paddy and tell him the news before he hears it from other sources.

 

*.*.*

 

Paddy was sitting up in bed when he came in. “Hi Mike, nothing to do today, so you thought you’d see if I was still kicking?” he said, with a laugh.

“Paddy I know you’re chomping at the bit to get out of here, but I would like to give you some friendly advice—take the opportunity to rest up…you don’t need the pressure of the AG, especially now.”

“So what you’re telling me is he has tasked you to be my temporary replacement. Am I right?”

“Yes, and I want to know if your company has any openings for a detective with my years of experience?”

Paddy studied him before replying, “You know Mike, if you ever feel you’ve had enough, all you have to do is to call me—you’ve got a position just like that.”

“Thanks, Paddy,” he said, with a smile. “I had the pleasure of talking with the AG today. Someone should give him a cushion for his phone. It hurts when he hangs up!”

“So now that you’re earning your pay, what’s up?”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t heard?”

“Okay, I give up. Heard what?”

He pulled the chair over to the side of Paddy’s bed, considering how to tell him. “Paddy, Vincenti was killed in his cell last night.”

Paddy’s face immediately turned to a frown. “In his cell…by his cellmate?”

“No you might expect that, but he had his own cell.”

Paddy’s face frowned even more. “I think I know where this is going, and I think I’m prepared for it.”

Mike didn’t want to shock him so he offered, “You probably know without my saying it.”

Paddy looked over. “He was killed by a guard, right?”

“Remember Maria Gomez the dancer that was strangled?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Well, it seems her uncle was a guard supervisor. He managed to visit him last night. Before killing him, he made him more than a eunuch. He sliced him up pretty well before slicing his throat.”

Paddy considered that for a second or two. “Play with fire and you’ll get burned.”

“Right! Speaking of that—the locals in New Hampshire are going to be setting up surveillance at Helen Ryder’s this weekend hoping to catch the latest strangler. However, Paddy you need to enjoy the respite here and not concern yourself with any of that. It’s being handled.”

“How did Scott take the reduction of resources?” Paddy was doing finger pushups.

“At first I think it came as a shock. I told him how much we valued his assistance and we did collectively capture his cousin’s killer. But when I watched him leaving the building, I never saw him move so slowly. Then, as if he saw the light, his whole demeanor changed when he stepped outside the gate. Paddy, he actually saluted the building.”

Paddy stopped doing finger pushups. “You know Mike if I had a daughter, I would like her to marry someone like Scott. There’s something remarkable about him, so fresh, so involved in life’s things.”

“Well, he is already spoken for, if I’m any judge of things. Lisa Anderson has him in her clutches and I don’t think she’s going to give him up for anything. Oh, speaking of Lisa—her parents own the camp where the murdered women went and were camp counselors. Scott enabled them to provide us with a prime suspect in those murders.”

He watched Paddy’s reaction to make sure this wasn’t too much for him. “We think it is Jimmy Ballou, who was a former camper, helping set up the camp for the summer season. It seems when those women were younger, they burned their initials into everything. Now they are turning up dead, with their initials burned in their groin. We think they might have just done something similar to Jimmy, but that’s just speculation. But it does provide a potential motive. We discovered a piece of paper with an H burned into it, and it was placed in Helen Ryder’s night stand.”

He shared, “We’re trying to track Jimmy down. His mother gave us an address in Boston, but it’s a vacant lot. We’re not coming up with anything that ties a James or Jimmy Ballou to anything in Boston.”

Paddy looked over at Mike. “You know it sounds like he might be using another name, which would make you ask the question—why?”

Chapter 68

 

It was dark outside when Judy left her alone for a few minutes. Lisa went to the window, studying the building behind theirs. The prep school was closed at night, but periodically there was a light on in a room across the alleyway. It bothered her, because it was the only building directly behind their dormitory, and the only way someone could watch them. She felt strange about several things.

Being watched was something that periodically bothered her, but Judy quickly pointed out that it was nothing but her imagination. It always seemed to happen when she was alone and Judy was elsewhere. She also believed someone was in one of her dresser drawers. Judy swears she wouldn’t have touched anything in her dresser.

Judy consented to have their room changed for the following year’s session. One had been selected on the fifth floor, of what was referred to as the ‘annex.’ It was connected to the main dormitory, but it was connected from the second floor and not the first. They said it was for ‘Architectural reasons.’ Lisa looked up and across at the light. She saw a man standing at the window. He seemed to be looking down at her. Her first impulse was to wave, but instead she ducked away from the window.

She ran over to her closet, pulling out the old pair of binoculars, and put them in a small paper bag. She headed down to the lobby area, to sit and wait for the right moment. Soon the female guard got up from her desk, heading toward the ladies room at the far end of the reception area. She waited for the guard to enter the ladies room, and then walked nonchalantly over to the guard station, so as not to attract any attention. She opened the key cabinet, took out the key marked 516 and took one of the keys marked ‘Annex.’

She went back and sat down in the reception area. The guard soon returned to her desk near the front door. Lisa headed up the stairs leading to the second floor and the entrance marked Annex. They were doing renovations to this area of the building, so it wasn’t open to the students yet. She unlocked the annex door, and entered the building making sure no one was near her. The staircase was dark, as there were no lights and no emergency lighting. She slowly made her way up the stairs knowing she had to climb several flights.

As she approached the landing, she couldn’t remember if she was approaching the top floor or was it just the fourth floor. She heard a noise and froze in position. She was using a small flashlight, but the batteries were weak and she had to use it sparingly. She shined the light in the direction of the noise, dropping the bag she was carrying. She covered her mouth to hold back her scream. Her light caught the sight of a large black rat with an enormous tail. The rat scurried away from the light.

She was only on the fourth floor after all and still had to climb another set of stairs. She wished she had told Judy where she was going, or better still, had taken Judy with her. She finally reached the top floor, heading down the hall with dorm rooms on both sides. She knew 516 would be on the left facing the alley. She shined the light on the second door, but it was not the right room. It was warm in the annex, which she hadn’t expected. They must have been working on the boiler system, since it was much hotter than she expected. She wiped at the sweat that was running down the sides of her face.

She unlocked the door to their future room and went inside. There was only a small amount of light seeping in from the rear window. She headed toward it. That’s when she heard a noise to her left, jumped away and fell against something metal. She shook the light and turned it on. She covered her scream. It was another rat. Her flashlight lit up its eyes so they looked red. The rat slowly walked along the counter in the opposite direction, jumping down on the floor. Her light went out at that point.

She waited a few seconds, holding onto the side wall for support. Her knee was sore from the contact with the metal foot rail of a small cot. Her flashlight batteries were very weak. She needed to save them for her return trip. She slid over to the window, looking out. It took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust. She could see the room where the man was standing earlier. He wasn’t at the window any longer, but there were two windows with lights. One window showed a very small bedroom with enough area for a bed and nightstand.

Through the other window was a bathroom. The windows in the old school were large, almost floor to over a person’s head. She focused on the bathroom, watching a man standing next to the sink without any clothes on. This must be the guy some of the coeds talked about. She was reaching for the binoculars when the light in that area went out. Soon the man was standing at the bedroom window, looking down at where her room would have been. He then looked up towards her, and she ducked down quickly.

She was so hot, the sweat was pouring down her face and the middle of her back. She waited a minute or so, and then peeked out over the window sill. He wasn’t at the window any longer but was lying on the bed. She hesitated for an instant, and then trained the binoculars on the man.

His legs and torso were plainly visible, but his face was hidden by a magazine. It must be one of those Men’s Magazines, judging from his obvious excitement. She had only seen Scott’s body in this condition, but as much as she wanted not to look she couldn’t stop herself.

The man was very muscular, as she could see by the muscles in his thighs and stomach area. The binoculars were fogging up and she had to adjust them to her eyes. The man reached for himself as she watched. She flopped down on the floor away from the window as the binoculars were too fogged to see through. She had seen enough. Her breathing was rapid and she was soaking wet.
Does he do that if he watches me?

Her back was against the wall below the window. She could tell the wall was wet from her leaning against it. Finally, she took a deep breath and peeked over the window sill and could finally see his face, or could have if she was looking through the binoculars. He was still occupied.
Doesn’t he care if people, no not people—coeds, can see him and what he’s doing?

She had never seen anything like this before.
Should she tell Judy what she saw, or should she tell Scott. Could she? Why is she doing this? How would she ever tell anyone?
She had an urge to look at the man’s face to see if she could recognize him, but knew the consequences of that action. She couldn’t bring herself to repeat the process. She soon discovered she was almost arguing with herself,
aren’t you just getting even? Isn’t he doing this to me?
She felt confused and trapped, with tears now running down her cheeks.
Oh Scott I love you so, please help me!

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