Robert Waggoner - John - The Senior Killer

Brad walked up to the house and showed the policeman his ID along with Rockies. The policeman frowned at the dog and Rocky gave him a fierce stare back and that was enough for the guy to move out of the way quickly. To Brad this house looked like what he’d heard about houses back in the late fifties or early sixties and smelled like an old grandma’s house that badly needed airing out. It permeated dust, mold and the faint smell of mothballs. Beige wallpaper with old worn out carpet the same color greeted you as you entered directly into the living room from the front door. Brad stepped to the opposite side of the room near a narrow window that faced the side yard. An old dark maroon sofa sat in front of the street window. It took up most of the wall space with a cheap wood coffee table with coffee stains sitting in front of it with two magazines lined up on one side. Next to where he was standing a rocking chair with wooden arms straight out of the Salvation Army sat waiting for its occupant. A permanent sag in the middle gave truth to the years of use. The color gave him the memory of Army green. A side table with a lamp perhaps bought at the same time as the chair sat to the back of the table. Brad turned the switch and the light came on. He turned it back off. He looked just opposite the rocking chair and there another table struggling to hold up an equally old TV sat looking tired as the house. Next to the TV a narrow but tall book case half full of books helps cover the wallpaper. Not one picture hung from the walls. He walked closer to examine the walls where a picture hanger waited for someone to hang a picture from. The outline of where pictures once hung was still evident in three places on the walls.

Next he moved to the kitchen. A small table with two chairs of the same vintage as the living room stood next to a window looking out to the back yard. An old refrigerator with a pull handle sat next to a small sink. An electric stove with a coffee maker next to it on the counter along with a set of canisters rested under the cabinets. The door led out to the backyard through a laundry room where an old coat and umbrella hung above an old set of black boots sat waiting for someone to take them for a walk in the rain.

Brad looked up at Mike who stood in the kitchen doorway waiting for orders. Brad told him to make a complete inventory of everything in the house along with Sujin taking pictures. Mike knew he meant even the salt shaker and how much salt was left in it. Before leaving the kitchen Brad opened the refrigerator and discovered nothing was left in it. Clean as a whistle. Brad then moved to the bedroom where John laid his head at night. A single bed, nicely made along with a chest of drawers was all that was evident as the closet was devoid of any clothing. He took a look at the bathroom and it was clean like the refrigerator. The other bedroom was totally empty. Nothing but an old faded yellow rug sat on the hardwood floor. Brad moved back to the living room and looked at all the books one by one. He told Mike again to list every book by author and title. Make sure each page is examined carefully. Better yet he told him to have the FBI pack them up along with the magazines and sent to their office.

Brad sat in the rocker and stared at the blank TV while Mike, Billy and Sujin did their work. Jake stood next to the window and never said a word. Finally Brad broke the silence saying, “We need DNA and have your agents tear this place apart for evidence. Rip out the toilet and bathtub drain along with the kitchen sink for any trace of his original self.” Jake nodded at agent Jones and Jones took off to fill in the waiting FBI men.

Brad returned to his thinking about John. Sujin had told him he was the best in the business at makeup and costumes. He got along fine with everyone and they were surprised when he said he needed a little vacation. A lot of questions came up while he sat there comfortably in John’s rocking chair. Not the question why, but where would he strike next; and when. Also what did he do for entertainment every day? Did she read books or watch TV? Read the newspapers. Go to the movies or wander around the shopping malls. What was he doing right now? No matter what Wendy said about him; some logic was following his trail and Brad was determined to jump on him given half a chance.

Billy broke his concentration saying, “Boss the garage is as clean as the rest of the house save an old push mower without a handle.”

Have the FBI check on all the storage units with his picture and find out where he stored his clothes and other things like pictures. I don’t think he filled a dumpster, but took the easy way out and rented a storage unit for a year or more.”

Sujin came and told him she was finished and Billy was helping Mike in the kitchen going through the utensils and cupboards.”

“I’m going to walk around the house and look it over with Rocky.”

“I’ll wait here for you and see what the FBI comes up with as they are now ripping out the toilet and bathroom sink looking for hair samples for DNA.” Brad nodded and left with Rocky by the front door stopping long enough to peer into the empty garage. Something caught his eye in one corner and he walked in looking like Sherlock Holmes on a case. In the corner a pile of sawdust stood all by itself. Brad looked the rest of the garage over and became curious why this one small pile of sawdust was left when the rest of the garage had been, what looked like a vacuumed cleaner had been used. Agent Jones saw him and with gloved hands and a knife scraped the pile into a brown pocket envelope. He sealed it and wrote the appropriate notation. Brad squatted down and picked some of the pile up in his hand and stood up. He went to the side window for a better look and sure enough, it was a pile of sawdust. But why did he leave it and nothing else. Maybe he wanted us to find it and that would keep us busy guessing why he left it. Brad dropped the sawdust and left to walk down the side of the house. There was nothing but dead flowers and brown grass surrounding the house. Nothing unusual and Brad made his way back to the front of the house. Sujin was standing on the walkway under a big old elm tree. It was warm for her after being on the coast for the last four months. She had grown used to the coastal weather and didn’t much like this heat at all. Brad walked up to her and said, “Let’s fly back home and see what we can figure out about this guy.” She nodded her agreement and Brad left to tell Steve and Jake his plan to take his team back to Oregon to work on finding where this guy might strike again. Nobody argued with him. Jake was happy to see him go and Wendy stood looking like she missed the bus. Brad walked up to her and said, “Wendy if you want to you’re welcome to join our team at my house. It is up to you.”

Wendy nodded her agreement and left to tell Jake her plan to go with Brad. Jake could have cared less, but as he was the special agent in charge of this case, she knew to report to him.

An hour later they were flying back up the coast to Oregon and entrench themselves in the most baffling case to date

The ‘Batt Team’ euphemistically known by in certain circles of the government was built on stamina and perseverance. This was evident by the plane ride up the coast. Steve and Wendy were both sleeping and the team was fully awake doing what they do best: working. Billy at his laptop; Sujin at her laptop, doing what she did best: digging for information that might lead to a clue where this madman might strike next; Brad with his map studying each kill site looking for a needle in a haystack. Math, the answer to all questions, lay before him. The formula is all he needed. Mike did his best work analyzing where he had been, what he saw, what he heard and Brad had told him to try and understand why the house was empty save the books and kitchen stuff. He’d also told him after the FBI had looked for clues and fingerprints to have the books sent to Oregon.