The Judge's List (The Whistler #2)(40)
“Now we’re talking,” Darren said. “If Bannick is a serial killer, and I have doubts, then let the real cops chase him.”
“Sadelle?”
“Just keep me off his list.”
17
The following Tuesday, two-thirds of the task force left Tallahassee at 8:00 a.m. for the five-hour drive to Biloxi. Darren, the wingman, drove while Lacy, the boss, read reports, made phone calls, and in general acted the way any interim director of BJC would act. She was quickly learning that managing people was an unpleasant part of her job.
During a lull, Darren, waiting to pounce, said, “So, I’m reading up on serial killers these days. Who holds the American record for kills?”
“Kills?”
“Kills. Dead bodies. That’s what the cops say.”
“Gee, I don’t know. Didn’t that Gacy guy kill a few dozen in Chicago?”
“John Wayne Gacy killed thirty-two, or at least that’s all he could remember. Buried ’em under his house in the suburbs. Forensics found the remains of twenty-eight, so the cops believed his confession. He said he tossed a few in the river but he wasn’t sure how many.”
“Ted Bundy?”
“Bundy officially confessed to thirty but he kept changing his stories. Before he was fried in the electric chair, here in our beloved state, by the way, he spent a lot of time with investigators from all over the country, primarily out West, where he was from. He had a brilliant mind but he simply couldn’t remember all of his victims. It is widely believed that he killed as many as one hundred young women, but it has been impossible to confirm. He often killed several in one day and even abducted his victims from the same location. He gets my vote as the sickest of a very sick bunch.”
“And he holds the record?”
“No, not for confirmed kills. A guy named Samuel Little confessed to ninety murders and was active until ten years ago. The authorities are still investigating and so far have confirmed about sixty.”
“You’re getting into this, aren’t you?”
“It’s fascinating. Ever hear of the Green River Killer?”
“I think so.”
“Confessed to seventy, convicted of forty-nine. Almost all sex workers in the Seattle area.”
“What’s your point?”
“I didn’t say I have one. What’s fascinating is that none of these guys killed the same way. I’ve yet to find a single one who did it for twenty years and killed only those he knew. They’re all deranged sociopaths, some are brilliant, most are not, but none, so far, in my vast research, are even remotely similar to Bannick. Someone who kills only for revenge and keeps a list.”
“We don’t know if he keeps a list.”
“Call it what you want, okay? He keeps the names of those who’ve crossed him and stalks them for years. That appears to be highly unusual.”
Lacy sighed, shook her head, and said, “I still can’t believe this. We’re talking about a popular elected judge as if we know for a fact that he’s killed several people. Murdered them in cold blood.”
“You’re not convinced?”
“I still don’t know. Are you?”
“I think so. If Betty Roe has her facts straight, and if Bannick did indeed know the first seven victims, then it can’t be just coincidental.”
Lacy’s phone buzzed and she took the call.
* * *
—
Dale Black, the Harrison County sheriff, was waiting when they arrived promptly at 2:00 p.m. He led them down a hallway to a small multipurpose room with a table in the rear, and he introduced them to Detective Napier who was in charge of the investigation. Quick introductions were made and they sat around the table. The sheriff began the conversation with “So, we’ve checked you out online and know something about your work. You’re not really criminal investigators, right?”
Lacy smiled, because she knew that when she dealt with men her age or older her charming smile normally got her what she wanted, or something close to it. And if she didn’t get what she wanted she could always count on disarming the men and neutralizing their attitudes. She said, “That’s right. We’re lawyers and we review complaints filed against judges.”
Napier liked her smile and offered one of his own, one with considerably less appeal. “In Florida, right?” he asked.
“Yes, we’re out of Tallahassee and work for the state.”
Darren had been told to remain silent and take notes, and he was complying on all fronts.
Napier asked, “Well, then, the obvious question is why are you interested in this double murder?”
“That is obvious, isn’t it? We’re fishing, okay? We’ve just been handed a complaint against a judge, in an unrelated case, and through our initial work we’ve come across some information on Lanny Verno. You do know that he once lived in Florida, right?”
Napier’s smile vanished and he glanced at his boss. “I think so,” he mumbled as he whipped open a thick file. He licked his thumb, flipped some pages, and said, “Yep, got a DUI over there a few years ago.”
“Do you have any record of him living in the Pensacola area around 2001?”
Napier frowned, kept flipping, searching now. He finally shook his head, no.