Chapter 20

On the ride back to camp, John sat quietly while no words were spoken until they arrived back where the SUV and camper trailer was parked. Mike unloaded some camp chairs and the three of them sat in a circle. It was cold so Mike built a fire so they could stay warm. John sat and watched not saying a word. Brad was thinking what Wendy had told him if they caught the killer to make him think he was smart and done a good job. That way he would open up if you showed him some respect. Brad took the advice to heart and after the fire started to burn he said to John, “John, I have the utmost respect for your plan and how you carried it out. We appreciate you not making your victims suffer. I’m afraid, John, you gave us too many clues and, well, here we sit on top of a mountain in Eastern Oregon around a warm fire discussing the chase you led us on. Do you know John there was over a thousand agents working on this case. Your operation cost the government over one hundred million dollars. Quite a feat I would say John. If you don’t mind would you tell Mike and I how it all started? No tape recording or anything like that. There are just the three of us sitting on a mountain with no one within a mile of here to hear us talk.”

John sat there looking from Brad to Mike and then to the dog which sat quietly next to his master. John had heard what he said as he looked down at his hands in cuffs between his legs. He raised his hands and showed that he would like them removed as a compromise to his situation. Brad removed the handcuffs and John rubbed his wrists and then held his hands out to the fire as the temperature was dropping fast. It would freeze hard tonight, he thought. Looking up as if it was his last look at life, he said, “It all started when we were kids,” in a voice that at first was what they were used to and then his voice started to change taking on a young adolescent about ten or twelve. A higher voice before puberty, Brad thought. “My daddy would come home drunk and beat us kids for no reason and then locking us in the dark room under the kitchen. The small room only had a dirt floor. It was always cold and pitch black. Daddy had a drop cord with a light on it he would bring into the room when he needed to stick his thing in one of us kids. It hurt so bad and he would slap our bare butts and yell things we couldn’t understand. Most of the time it was Edward who was the youngest and softer than Paul or me” John stopped for a minute and as Brad and Mike were not unused to horror stories, this one ranked at the top of their list for abuse.

John eyes seemed to change a little and his head lolled around on his neck looking like he was struggling with his inner demons. The inner boy went to say, “Momma was no good and no one missed her when we killed her.”

“Where did you bury her John,” Brad asked.

A smile crossed his face and said, “Her bones are in the pig pen. Daddy is there too.” Brad wondered who was buried in the town’s cemetery.

Brad asked him, “Where are Paul and your other brother Edward?”

John played with his fingers and stuck his legs out to warm his feet staring into the fire. After a minute or two, which seemed like an hour he said, “Paul is in McMinnville and Edward is at the pig farm.” His voice changed back to his normal one and it didn’t go unnoticed by Brad and Mike. Now he looked at both Mike and Brad with a smile and eyes that were defiant. Brad realized that Wendy would love to have a shot at his guy and what John didn’t know was Rocky in his collar had a small tape recorder turning slowly on a ninety minute tape.

“John,” Brad asked while he rubbed Rockies head, “Why did you give us so many clues?”

Laughing now he said, “I could have gone on forever and you never would have caught me if I hadn’t given you a clue now and then. It was a game of cat and mouse and it lasted long enough for me to get some revenge for myself and brothers against mean old people who think it is ok to beat the hell out of their children. Now maybe all that have read and watched the news about me and my brothers will not sleep so well thinking about how they treated their kids in the past. It’s over and I’m ready to accept whatever punishment is due. What you hear now is the dominant John and I keep the lid on the others who lurk just under me waiting to have a chance to emerge and say a thing or two. Paul is not that gifted to have more than one inside like me. I have the best of many worlds and what a game sometimes it is to play with people. I can’t wait till a half dozen shrink’s ply their trade with me trying to see what makes me and my others tick. Good luck is all I can say.” He sat there staring into the fire as Mike made ready the camper trailer and suburban to leave. It was growing dark and a cool breeze was moving the tall thin Lodge pole pine back and forth.

Mike brought a red can and set it down next to John’s SUV. Brad stood up and told John to follow him to his SUV. Brad opened the door and told John to sit in the driver’s seat. John did as he was told to take one last look at the beginning of a few stars popping up in the coming darkness. John sat in the seat while Brad told him to hold the steering wheel with both hands. Brad took plastic handcuff ties and connected them to his wrists and steering wheel. Mike took the red can of gas and pour it over John and the rest of it over the back seat and the front seats. The smell of raw gas was strong and deadly. John blinked his eyes from the stinging gas and looked straight ahead. Brad brought from the fire a glowing stick and as Rocky and Mike moved away, threw it in the car and kicked the door shut. A vroom sound followed by a flash of fire consumed the interior and John in seconds. Brad and Mike stood watching John go up in flames and not a shred of pity was felt by either one of them. The world was better off now, but still far being safe with the inevitable knowledge of when the next serial killer arrived on the scene.

They looked on for a few more minutes seeing the charred body of John the Senior Killer and then got in the suburban and drove down the mountain with a bright red glow in the mirrors until the first switch back blocked the burning vehicle and darkness set upon the day.

Stopping in Fossil at a payphone, first he called Steve giving him a brief report and then he called Sujin to tell her it was all over and he would call again from the Portland FBI office to report his next move. Brad walked back to the Suburban and wondered if the world was any safer now than before as they drove the four hours back to Portland in silence. Staring out the window at the black of the evening thousands of stars blinked back possibly telling them all was right in their world.

After a toss and turn night in a motel in Troutdale, Brad and Mike met his team and Steve at the FBI office in Portland. Nancy recapped the Paul story telling them he was in the county jail without the option of bail. He had a court appointed attorney and the court process would continue eventually landing Paul in a mental institution for the duration of his life. His brother Edward was plucked out of his underground room and promptly installed in security institution for evaluation. At the pig farm a backhoe was brought in after the pigs were rounded up and disposed at Yelm’s auction barn. It was decided that the farm would be used for fire practice by the Bald Hills volunteer fire department.

Finally Steve said, “Brad you and I are called to DC for a meeting at the highest level. I suggest the team return to the Oregon coast and write up a detailed report of the case for future study by law enforcement agencies for training purposes. Wendy and agent Jones will accompany the team to Oregon and from now on, if they so desire, they are permanently attached to the team,” as he scooted his chair back ending the meeting.

Brad called Sujin and told her he would be gone a few days back east and that the rest of the team would be today. She never asked him what happened, that would come later in good time. What she did tell him was that little Brad Jr. was kicking like crazy and Sandy followed her around making a pest of herself knowing her delicate state of being with child.

John: The Senior Killer
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