A detective tracks a serial killer.
Detective first class Margaret Mede, working late as usual, sat in front of her computer, analyzing the latest information she had gathered on the serial killer known as the Ring Finger Killer.
Over the past six weeks, the police had found the savagely mutilated bodies of three beautiful young college girls between the ages of 22 and 26. The reports given by all the distraught fiancés stated that they had recently given their intended an engagement ring. Not only were the rings missing, so were the girls’ ring fingers.
At
“Hi, Kirby,” she greeted, “What can you tell me about this one.”
“It appears to be the work of the same person.”
“Does this one give you any better idea of who’s doing this?
“Well – since none of the women were sexually assaulted, I would venture to say – these are hate crimes rather than crimes of passion.”
“I’ve pretty much determined that already.” Margaret replied, “We’ve seen a lot of terrible sights, but never anything like this. Who could be so callous and cruel to a fellow human being?”
“I’d speculate – it’s a guy who gave his girlfriend an engagement ring, and after they broke up, got really pissed when she wouldn’t give it back.”
“A bit simplistic, but plausible in today’s sick society.”
Kirby said, “There is something I’d like to show you,” as he picked up the girl’s hand with the missing finger.
Margaret leaned over for a closer look as he continued, “Notice the clean cut and the disarticulation of the phalange from the metacarpal.”
Margaret stated, “That looks like it was done with a surgeon’s precision; which could mean we’re looking for a doctor of some sort.”
“Considering the ages of the victims – I’d say, more likely a medical student.” Then added, “This victim was luckier than the others in one respect.”
“What’s that?”
“The finger was severed postmortem.”
“How can you tell?”
“There’s no bleeding from the wound.”
Margaret retorted sarcastically, “Some consolation!” then asked, “Can you divulge anything else that I can use?”
“Give me some time to make a thorough examination and I’ll get my preliminary findings to you as soon as I can.”
* * *
The next morning, Margaret searched the computer files again for that missing common thread that linked the victims together. Suddenly she found the connection; on the day prior to each girl’s death, there was an announcement of their engagement in the society section of the paper. She took the news of the connection to the captain.
After explaining her findings she said, “Captain, I have a plan that should catch this bastard and put a stop to him.”
“Ok detective, let’s hear it.”
“First we have to….”
* * *
Joyce Evers, a fresh graduate from the police academy, volunteered for the assignment. The next day, they published Joyce’s fictitious name and address along with a picture announcing her engagement. Based on the killer’s M.O., Joyce, wearing a wire, walked down the street from her assigned apartment to the corner convenience store. While in the store and maintaining communication with the surveillance van, she reported, “I didn’t see anything suspicious as I came to the store and there’s no one here except the clerk.” She paused then said, “Hold it – another woman just came in.”
Joyce picked up a container of sugar-free yogurt and went to the cash register. The other woman walked up to Joyce and said, “Congratulations on your engagement.”
“Excuse me,” Joyce said.
“Aren’t you Bernice, you look just like the picture in the society section of the paper.”
“Why yes, I am – and thank you.”
Joyce paid the clerk, left the store, and spoke quietly to her lapel mike, “Did you guys hear that?”
“Yes, we heard,” came the reply, “but we’re looking for….”
Joyce did not hear the rest of the transmission because she screamed in pain as she felt the first stab wound to her lower back. She spun around in time to see the woman from the store lunge at her again. This time the knife cut deep into Joyce’s arm as she blocked the assault. The third assault was a double slicing blow that caught her across the rib cage and she went down.
The woman was raising the knife high above her head in preparation for the fatal strike, when Joyce heard a single gun shot. Just before she blacked out from the pain, she heard another scream that was not her own.
* * *
The next thing she saw, as she regained consciousness in the emergency room, was Detective Margaret Mede hovering over her.
“Welcome back,” Margaret said.
“Did we catch her?” Joyce asked.
“I’m afraid not. By the time our team got to you, the assailant had disappeared into the darkness of a nearby alley.
“Damn,” Joyce said, “all this for nothing!”
“No, not for nothing. Now we know we are looking for a woman and not a man. We also recovered the knife with a full set of finger prints.”
“Who fired the shot?”
“That miraculous shot came from Sergeant Hodges.”
“Why miraculous?”
“Not only did he shoot the knife out of your assailant’s hand, we are now looking for a woman missing a thumb.”
“Really?”
“The impact of the bullet severed her right thumb and fused it to the handle.”
“Now – if that’s not poetic justice, I don’t know what is. How soon can I get out of here?”
“The doctor told me you were very fortunate in that no vital organs were involved. However, considering it took 47 stitches to pull you back together, he wants to keep you here overnight for observation.”
“But I feel fine.”
“That’s because, with all the medication you’ve received, you won’t be feeling much of anything. That is, until it starts wearing off.”
“Ok, I guess you’re right.”
“You get some rest, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
* * *
Margaret no sooner got home when she received a call, “Detective Mede, this is Sergeant Hodges. I hate to be calling you at this hour but I thought you’d like to know that we just got a lead on the Ring Finger Killer.”
“That’s ok sergeant, what’ve you got?”
“Dr. Westerling called and reported that he had just treated a woman who had lost her right thumb. He said it appeared to be the result of a gun shot and was not satisfied with the patient’s explanation.”
“Did you get her address?”
“Yes, but it’s a phony.”
“How did she pay the bill?”
“With a stolen credit card.”
“Things are getting better all the time. Have someone begin tracing the card and I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Already on it.”
“You’re a good man, sergeant. Thanks for the call.”
She then listened to her voice mail, “Margaret, this is Kirby. DNA from under the fingernails of the last victim indicates that the person you’re looking for is a woman – not a man.”
Margaret said with a sigh, “Forensics is great, but a day late and a dollar short. Why couldn’t we have had this information yesterday?”
* * *
Margaret stopped by the hospital on the way to the precinct and found Sergeant Hodges sitting beside Joyce’s bed. “Good morning you two. How are you feeling, Joyce?”
“Better than I did last night. You were right about the drugs wearing off, but I’m ready to get out of here today.”
“That’ll be up to your doctor. In any case, I want you to take a couple of days off.”
Sergeant Hodges stood and said, “It’s time for me to get going.”
Joyce said, “Thanks for stopping by, dead-eye. Will I see you later?”
“You bet,” Hodges said as he left the room.
Margaret said, “Did he tell you about the woman with a suspected gun-shot wound reported by a doctor.”
“Yes, and he also told me an all points bulletin went out looking for a woman with a missing thumb. He may also have a lead on the stolen credit card.”
“I’ll check on that when I get to my desk. With any luck we’ll catch her before she strikes again.”
At two that afternoon, Margaret got another call from Sergeant Hodges, “I’m on the way to the airport. I just traced the credit card and it was used at the South West Airlines ticket counter less than an hour ago. The reservation attendant confirmed that a woman with a heavily bandaged right hand purchased a ticket to Huston.”
At three-thirty, Sergeant Hodges called again, “I found her just as she was about to board the flight to Houston. We’re returning to the precinct with the suspect in custody.”
* * *
At the arraignment, her lawyer tried to have the charges dismissed on the grounds of temporary insanity and amnesia. He stated, “My client is mentally disturbed and unable to stand trial.”
“Your Honor,” Margaret interceded, “His client is a medical student in her third year of school, and has maintained a high scholastic average. She is more than capable of standing trial.”
The judge looked at the accused and asked, “What happened to her hand?”
The lawyer said, “A police officer shot her thumb off.”
Margaret said, “Your Honor, the shooting occurred during the defendant’s attempted murder of a police officer.”
When the judge asked the defense lawyer why the insanity plea, he produced a tape, saying, “This is a recording of Detective Mede’s interrogation session with my client. I was present when my client, who, against my advice, waved her Miranda rights. That in itself should indicate to the court, my client’s mental state.”
The judge said, “The court will entertain the tape. Then I will determine your client’s mental state.”
The tape began and after the preliminary date and time the question came, ‘Did you kill those women?’
‘I killed my sister.’
Margaret’s voice became barely audible, “My God – the first victim was her sister.”
Regaining composure, ‘Why did you kill your sister?’
‘Because that ring was mine! Bruce and I went together for three years. He even asked me to marry him. But when I didn’t give him an answer soon enough, he gave my ring to my sister – the bitch. That ring was mine!’
‘Why did you cut off her finger?’
‘Because my ring wouldn’t come off.’
‘Where is the ring now?’
‘It’s still on her finger, I can’t get it off.’
‘Where’s the finger?’
‘Home in my jewelry case.’
‘Why did you kill the other three women?’
‘I didn’t kill anyone except that tramp of a sister.’
The defense lawyer turned off the tape and said, “Judge, I’d like to call the eminent criminal psychiatrist, Dr. Ralph Wellman.”
“Proceed, counselor.”
“Dr. Wellman, have you examined my client?”
“I have.”
“And in your learned opinion, why did she kill her sister?”
“She’s suffering from a classic case of delusional psychopathic personality.”
“In laymen’s terms, please doctor.”
“She’s crazier than a bed bug!”
“And why the other killings?”
“It’s obvious, given her mental condition, when she could not remove the ring, even from the severed finger, she had to repeat the action until she succeeded in acquiring what she believed was rightfully hers. Demented as that may be, that’s what she believed.”
“One last question. Why couldn’t she remove the rings from the fingers?”
“In her sister’s case, the ring was too tight to start with and the finger had to come off. Once removed, the finger swelled even more from the trauma. In the case of the subsequent victims, she merely repeated a known pattern.”
“In your opinion, doctor, was this girl responsible for her actions at the time?”
“Definitely not.”
“Thank you, doctor, no further questions.”
The judge sat straight in his chair and reiterated, “A classic case of delusional psychopathic personality,” then said, “Hog wash! The prisoner is hereby remanded to the county jail until such a time as a trial date can be established. At which time she will stand trial on four counts of murder in the first degree and one count of assault with intent to commit murder.”
The dropping of the gavel sounded like a pistol shot.