Autopsy Of A Mind - Chapter 159
The police would try their best to contain the news of the alleged return of the killer.
What puzzled me was why he had returned. And then I remembered the thirty-year anniversary of the first killing had come up. He must have seen the articles in the newspaper.
If I was recalling correctly, it also meant he was sure the case was being investigated once again.
The BTS Killer saw all the hype coming up and it refueled his wishes. And something was happening in his life… something major. And he must have felt powerless. That was why he felt like playing once again.
To him, it was time to start the game once again. That was why he started recommunicating.
He had sent the publishing house that printed the story a jarring letter. That was what made me speed up the investigation.
In the letter, he claimed that he had killed another victim, previously unknown, and given a specific date. It could have been laughed off as a prank, but the letter also enclosed several pictures of the victim’s bodies in various positions.
They looked like crime-scene photos. The eerie part? The victim had been taken away in an ambulance before anyone could take pictures of the scene. And I knew that this was an original.
The BTS Killer took pictures of his victims as trophies. He would look at them in his most vulnerable moments to relive the murders and feel powerful once again.
Also enclosed was a photocopy of the victim’s driver’s license which was missing from the crime scene.
The thing about it was, the publishing house was manic. They wanted to publish more stories, they wanted to create noise around this. But the police didn’t allow it.
It was strange, but I understood.
How did he get away with all those murders? One of the most notorious serial killers in the history of the city was back in the crowd and people would wonder if he was hiding within the crowd. If he was the person sitting next to them.
That would be the thing that scared people.
And BTS Killer loved that. It was part of his ego. He loved being in the spotlight.
An officer knelt down beside me to inspect the bag. “Dr. Butler, why would they send it here? In such a public place?” I looked at the young boy and was reminded of the early days when Evie would ask questions.
I smiled. “He enjoys knowing the havoc they are creating in the community and the police. He is saying that he is still here and he is playing with the police. He is saying that we will never catch him,” I explained.
“That sounds terrifying,” he whispered. “My mom was a young girl when he was on the prowl. She told me that they didn’t even talk to their neighbors, fearing that they would catch the eye of the killer.” The boy shuddered.
I put on my gloves and unzipped the bag. Inside it was a box… within which was a doll with a noose around its neck. The rope was attached to the pipe like he had done when he slaughtered the whole family, kids, and all.
I could tell that it was made to look like the mother. The reddish-brown hair, the blue eyes, and even the custom-made clothes fit perfectly with the crime scene images I had received.
Everything was in staggering clarity.
I pushed around the frilly stuff and found an ID card… for another victim.
I knew in that moment that the sender really wanted us to know that he was the BTK Killer and that he really was communicating again.
I made a call to Nash immediately.
[I’m back.] the note read. I flipped it over and felt a smile tugging at my lips.
I didn’t give Nash information over the phone because I knew there were ears all around me. So, I bid my time as I pulled up the crime-scene photographs from the first case and looked at them closely.
Nash arrived within half an hour.
“Traffic was thin. I might have broken some laws to get here!” he chirped, looking beyond excited.
“Didn’t you have another case to solve?” I asked perturbed. “Come here,” I said finally.
He walked closer and put on his gloves before kneeling down beside me. “Evie has it handled. I am sure they will find and save the little girl within tonight,” Nash commented confidently.
“Great,” I said quickly. “But you need to see this,” I prompted as I picked up the doll and placed it in his hand.
He turned it around and frowned.
“This is how he killed one of the victims, right?” he asked.
I nodded. “The sender put everything in stark clarity,” I said. I showed him the picture.
Nash gasped. “From the pattern of the shirt to the pose… even the open eyes. They have it down to a T,” Nash analyzed. “We should send it to the lab for prints, right?”
“BTK didn’t send this,” I interrupted.
Nash startled. “What are you saying? This looks exactly like someone who was at the scene recreated it!” he argued.
“Everything is the same… except for the knot on the pipe.” My voice was just a whisper.
I zoomed in on the picture and showed it to him. Nash inspected it closely before shaking his head.
“It looks exactly the same!” he protested.
I agreed. “It does. But from what you can see in the picture…”
“What are you trying to say?” Nash asked, now intrigued.
“The picture only shows part of the knot, and that is how it is recreated, but the actual knot is a complex knot used for fishing and police-work,” I grinned.
“You think the sender is not the real killer?” Nash hissed.
“It’s not. But your next question will be: how did they see the crime scene then?”
Nash nodded. “Crime-scene photos have not been released, right?”
“No, they never released the photographs because the victim’s youngest son is still alive.” I took out the note and showed it to him. “Does the paper look familiar to you?” I asked casually.
Nash looked at the script for a generic moment, flipping it around and analyzing the writing before he froze. “Holy fucking shit. Is this… it’s the same paper!”
He looked around to see if anyone else was looking. No one seemed to have noticed.
“But how would the accomplice from the Elegant Butcher case have the ID card for one of the victims?”
“That’s what I am trying to figure out. I need to go back to the files and see who should have the ID card,” I explained. “But the crime scene photographs look so similar that I think they were taken from our records.”
“If it is the accomplice, he has inside knowledge. But why would he do this? Some weird way to help us solve cases and rid the city of other serial killers?” Nash analyzed.
“No. It happened right after we visited Alicia. And this man knows how good Evie and I are at our job. He knew we will figure out his identity soon and he is stalling us. He is not helping us in the least…”
“He is piling more cases on our plate so that we have to push back finding out who he is,” Nash finished.
“This also means that he is around us. It means that he is easy to find.” That was the logical progression.
“But he thinks he is clever, that he is fooling us,” Nash said. I could hear the awe in his voice.
“I am surprised by how well he has portrayed the BTS Killer and how he does things,” I acknowledged. “I am not above this guy helping us solve a case,” I admitted.
“You think he knows who the killer is?” Nash asked.
I shook my head. “He is a psychopath. He has the same wavelength as the BTS Killer but he thinks himself superior. He might not know the identity of this man, but if the press finds out and circulates the news that the killer is back… the original killer will feel at a loss,” I explained.
Nash grinned. “The spotlight will be taken away from him. He wanted to be seen as someone equal to Jack the Ripper but if someone steals his thunder, he would try his best to establish himself.”
“And when criminals get anxious, they make mistakes,” I prompted.
“So, you will be luring out the real killer?” Nash repeated.
“Yes. It will help solve the cold case… but it will also help me get closer to this accomplice.” I placed the doll down and tapped at the picture. After placing everything, I stood up.
“I’ll be delivering the back to the forensics department myself. No one else can touch it, understood?” I ordered. The officers made their way and I went into the car with Nash.
Before I could start the car, I turned to him. “Remember, the real facts of our conversation and speculations stay between us. No emails or reports will go out to our seniors. Neither will the officers be informed of the progress.” I was not above pleading.
“Is there something bothering you?” Nash asked frankly.
“There is something at the back of my mind that keeps nagging me, but I can’t grasp onto it. Seeing this bag has made it worse,” I admitted.
“Get some sleep tonight. I am sure it will help you out.”