Authors note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, events and incidents are the products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Tracking Evil, A Podcast -- Part Four
Recap:
It began with a series of deaths.
Different cities and states, the victims both male and female, black and white.
Some were ruled as homicides, others as accidents or misadventures.
One thing linked them all. A scrawled message found at or near each murder site, BILLIII.
A young investigative reporter. Erica Anderson, seeking her big break began to piece together the mystery. She collected a number of new friends, allies really, as she followed the clues. Most notably a young black man from Washington DC who had a passion for graffiti and street art and a Deputy Sheriff called Arlene McGuigan who became intrigued by Erica's findings.
Following up on a murder from over three decades ago, Erica stumbled onto the meaning behind the graffiti. That led her to a name, Gerry Butterman.
Episode 1: 'By failing to prepare, you are preparing to fail'
As war councils go it wasn't the most impressive one.
Erica sat opposite Arlene at a tatty picnic table. They had been texting, emailing and talking on the phone for over two weeks with regard to the case and each of the conversations had swung around to the exact same conclusion...they had zero proof or evidence.
Arlene was adamant that any law enforcement agency they brought this to would ignore their findings. Everything was circumstantial or simply based on hunches. Not only that but the manner in which some of the 'leaps' in the case had been made were not exactly prime examples of good investigative work, from a policing or journalistic standpoint.
Erica's concerns were centred on further victims. She still wanted to bring the story to the world but more importantly she wanted the killer brought to justice before anyone else died. The fact that he didn't appear to be prolific in his murders did offer some hope that they had time to gather the evidence Arlene insisted they needed but still, Erica couldn't help but worry that the clock was running out on another body turning up.
Two days ago, Arlene had texted Erica to join her at her place in Virginia, the older woman wrote that she had a plan, an idea really, that she wanted to run past Erica.
The picnic table was at the far end of the large back garden. Arlene's home was five miles outside Chase city, set in six acres of land. It had been in her family for five generations and, while the landscaping needed a lot of work, it was an idyllic setting for their discussion. Most importantly it was a completely private one. A narrow creek flowed a few feet away, a boundary both to the garden and the property in general. As the two women sipped on cold beers straight from the bottles, the water gurgled and splashed behind them, a calming sound.
"Umm, so, a plan, yeah?" Erica didn't look up at Arlene as she spoke, instead she idly picked at the label on the bottle, working her fingernail beneath it. She had the random thought that if she could peel the label off without it tearing then it would be a sign that the plan would work. Irrational...yes, but that was the level of desperation she felt at ever closing out the investigation.
"Yes, I've been thinking about nothing else. We need to catch him in the act, nothing less will do. We can't put him under surveillance indefinitely, we don't have the equipment, manpower or money. We could watch him for a year and he mightn't do a thing. We can't apply for a warrant, we have no evidence to obtain one and even if by some miracle we did find a reason to go into his home, there's no guarantee there would be anything there to link him to a crime. Worse, it would tip him off to our suspicions and we'd never catch him then."
"I know, I know" Erica said, "We've gone over all of this before. You're right, you've been right from the start." She had a half inch of the label free now, the right corner of it yielding to her attempts. Erica ran her finger along the glass surface, gathering moisture to soften more of the paper.
"Well, if the mountain won't come to Mohammad..." Arlene replied.
"Huh?" Erica finally looked up at the redheaded woman sitting patiently across from her.
"Then we bring him to the mountain ourselves." Arlene finished paraphrasing.
Erica still appeared confused but she was paying attention now, the smile on Arlene's face showed that the deputy knew she'd piqued Erica's interest.
"We set up a sting, well... sort of a sting. We try to force his hand."
"Okay you are losing me here, what exactly do you mean? Walk me through it." Erica asked her.
Arlene got up from the picnic bench, she took a look around, more to order her thoughts than to check for eavesdroppers as there was nobody for miles. She paced slightly as she began to outline her plan, arms moving demonstratively as she spoke.
"I did some digging on our Mr Butterman. Seems that after he was released, he moved back to his hometown of Oxford NC. Not the home he shared with his late wife, he got himself a small place on the edge of town. Neither he nor his wife have any living kin, anyone even remotely connected to the case seems to have moved, retired or died. That means that by keeping his head down, his presence in the town has gone largely unnoticed. As far as the locals are concerned, he's kept his nose clean these last years which runs true with the period he spent incarcerated, no trouble, no fuss, just did his time. Basically, an unremarkable man leading an unremarkable life."
Arlene paused to swipe her bottle from the table, she drank and then went on talking.
"Something of note, he started a little business when he got out. Seems he took courses in prison and now he runs a small enterprise finding and restoring antiques and the like. Apparently, he travels to bid on storage sales and the like. Might explain the variety of locations that the murders occurred in. I haven't been able to trace and compare any purchases he made with murders, but if we do get a look at his records, it might be another nail in his coffin."
"Could we get a warrant to do that first?" Erica liked this plan, verifying his movements seemed a great idea.
"No, for the reasons we spoke about before. Besides its only supposition that he might have committed murders at those times, a half-asleep defence lawyer would tear that to shreds without more concrete evidence to back it up."
"Okay, so if that's not your plan, go on then..." Erica urged Arlene.
"It's as we said, we need to catch him in the act. My idea is that we force his hand. I want to set up a situation that he'll respond to, push his buttons in such a way that he'll have to react. Basically, I want to give him a target."
"A target! You mean you want to give him a potential victim, right? Seriously? It's too risky! You said yourself that this is off the books. So much could go wrong." Erica was shocked at the idea. As Arlene had said 'target' her hand had convulsed with shock, the fingernail that had been surgically removing the label now scored along it, tearing it. So much for good omens.
"Yes, I agree. There is more than a touch of risk associated with doing it this way. Yes, things could go wrong, badly wrong. Let's face it though, what choice do we have? Alert the locals? He hasn't done anything wrong. Alert the FBI? You said yourself that your friend in the bureau thinks you are wasting your time. Wait for someone else to die? Neither of us want that." Arlene's words were delivered with passion and Erica mutely nodded as the Deputy Sheriff finished speaking. There was nothing left to say. Arlene was right.
"First problem is help. As in getting help. I reckon our killer is going to spot law enforcement straight off. He's been so cautious and clever this far, some off duty cops helping us out will be tagged by him straight away. Luckily, I know a couple of guys. Strictly speaking my dad knew them, they were in his platoon. After my dad passed, they looked in on me from time to time. He'd taken them under his wing when he was the platoon sergeant and I guess they felt they owed him. Anyway, two good guys, both black, both tough and thankfully both willing to help. So that leaves us with the woman, now..."
"I'll do it!" Erica blurted.
Arlene shook her head. "Look I know how invested you are in this but this is dangerous. These guys were professional soldiers, they might be older now but that's a bonus, a young guy might put the killer off but these guys are of an age with the killer, he might feel cockier going against them. They can take care of themselves, you can't. I don't want you putting yourself out there as the target."
