Robert Waggoner - John - The Senior Killer

Policemen who witnessed the end of the chase described it this way. The car hit the spike belt and all four tires went flat. The car veered sideways to the left and the driver tried to right the slide and over steered making the car do a three sixty in the middle of the road coming to a rest pointing out. The driver tried to go, but on four flat tires went nowhere. By that time the car was surrounded by police holding guns and yelling to stick their hands out the windows.

At about the same time Nancy and with Billy riding with her drove up to the circle of blue clad police mixed with agents in suits to see, what they thought was John the Senior Killer with handcuffs up against his car. Poor old Howard was cuffed too, but shortly they realized he was the intended victim not the serial killer.

Nancy told the agents to bring him to the FBI trailer for a little interrogation. When she arrived back at the hanger, the members of Brad’s team waited for the suspect to arrive. When he was out of the car Wendy noticed this guy didn’t quite look like the guy she remembered from the pig farm. Oh well, she thought, he is disguised and soon we will see the real face underneath the makeup.

Paul was led up into the trailer and by then he was crying and mumbling about his brother, but he wasn’t making sense as Wendy and the team looked at him sitting on a metal chair while two agents with rags went after his face like a mother with a boy who just ate ice cream and cake. By the time they got him cleaned up, he stopped crying and asked to see his brother. He said, “I need to call my brother. He is expecting a phone call from me as soon as possible.”

Nancy made sure and read him his rights and made sure he understood if he talked to them without a lawyer present any and all….”

He told her yes, he understood and was ready to talk. He looked around for the first time and saw a tall woman talking to him and so many other people staring at him he thought like he was the center of attraction. He sat up straight and stuck out his chest and chin smiling at them like a little kid in a candy store

Nancy said, “What is your name and where do you live?”

He said, with a loud clear voice, “My name is Paul Mitchell and I live in the Bald Hills on a pig farm.”

“What is your brother’s name,” she said looking at Wendy.

“Which one?” He asked.

“How many brothers do you have,” Nancy asked him.

“There are three of us brothers.”

“Names please,” she asked with a smile as he was warming to the discussion.

“The oldest is John, then I’m next, Paul and the last one is Edward. We are triplets.”

“Paul, would you mind if we took your finger prints now?”

“Not at all, I’m glad to help. I’m glad this is over as my head was starting to throb,” as he rubbed his temples. An agent quickly, but efficiently took his fingerprints and found out in a few minutes they were not John’s as suspected. Upon hearing the report all of the team and Nancy smiled at the knowledge of what Brad had guessed right what John the serial killer was going to do on Halloween.

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.