The Night School Strangler
Chapter 14
"Chief," Eve called out. "There's a call for you on line one."
Ironside looked up from his paperwork. "Who is it, Eve?"
"It's Jim Grant over at the Police lab."
Anxious to receive his reports on the DNA, Ironside punched the button on line one, picked up the receiver and said, "Jim, what in the blazes is taking so long with my DNA reports? I needed those yesterday."
"Well sir, that is what I am calling you about. There has been a problem with the reports," Grant told him.
"What do you mean a problem? I need those reports. You're not going to tell me that they are being delayed, are you?" the detective growled.
"I'm sorry, sir, but they have been misplaced."
Eve was sure that the roof of the building was going to blow off with Ironside's temper. Ed took one look at Eve and headed out of the office. Officer Whitfield smiled and mouthed, "Coward!"
"Misplaced it! How in the flaming hell do you misplace DNA reports?" Ironside roared.
"We don't know yet, sir. We are investigating their disappearance," Grant said meekly.
Ironside shook his head and ran his hand down his face. "Just exactly how long is it going to take to rerun the DNA tests?"
"Well sir, there is a problem with that as well."
"Don't tell me you lost the samples?" said the ever-rising voice of Robert Ironside.
"I'm afraid so, Chief."
"You explain that to the family of the strangler's next victim!" Ironside slammed the phone down into the cradle with such force that Eve was amazed the phone didn't break.
The chief looked around the room. When he did not spot Brown, he addressed Eve. "Where's Ed?"
"He left to do some further checking on Adam Wright," Eve responded immediately so as not to be the recipient of her boss's sour mood.
"Why would he bother to do that? We already know that he does not have blood type O?"
"You authorized him to do some further checking, Chief," she reminded him.
"I know that," snapped Ironside. "Come on, Eve. We are going to go see Jamie Masilla." The detective whirled his chair around and headed towards the ramp. As usual, Eve had to run to catch up with him.
*
Sergeant Ed Brown walked into the San Francisco Medical Facility. Several people were sitting in chairs, obviously waiting to be seen. Ed did not have the luxury of waiting around. His boss would become even more impatient to gather information and evidence to catch the maniac that was running around killing women.
The Strangler was now making it more difficult. He obviously was no longer limiting his killings to women at the college campus. Although Ed had no doubt he would continue to kill college women, he was certain that he would no longer do it at the school. Trying to catch him when he was going to the individual homes was not going to be easy.
The loss of the DNA samples and evidence would surely slow down the investigation. It was almost as if the killer was not meant to be caught. Ed almost chuckled at that thought. The killer had no idea what he was up against. Chief Robert Ironside would not give up until he caught the man. It might take a little longer than they would like, but he would catch him.
It really bothered Ed from what they had learned that Adam Wright did not have blood type O. That was something he was going to double check on. The man simply gave the sergeant the impression that he could easily kill an individual. He was not going to trust the initial reports. He would not be satisfied until he was able to confirm that Adam Wright was definitely not the Strangler.
Sergeant Brown walked over to the desk and waited for the nurse behind it to acknowledge his presence. It did not take very long as she looked up at him and smiled.
"Yes sir, may I help you?" she said to the handsome detective.
Ironside's top officer reached into his suit coat pocket and pulled out his police badge. Opening it, he flashed it in front of the nurse. "My name is Sergeant Ed Brown from Chief Ironside's office. I would like to speak with the doctor in charge of Adam Wright's case."
Earlier that day, Sergeant Brown had discovered that Adam Wright had been treated at this medical facility as a teenager. It fit into the pattern of the Night School Strangler. The Strangler may not have necessarily had medical treatment, but Ed would leave no stone unturned.
"That would be Doctor Swainson. One moment, Sergeant, and I will tell him you are here to see him."
Picking up the receiver, she punched four numbers into the phone's keypad. After a moment, she said, "Doctor Swainson, there is a Sergeant Brown from Chief Ironside's office here to see you."
When she finished, she looked at Brown again and said, "You can go right in, Sergeant. She pointed to the door behind her and told him, "Turn right as soon as you go through that door; it's the last one on your left."
Ed thanked her, opened the door and turned right. He walked down the hall until he reached the last office on the left. The name, Doctor Edward Swainson confirmed he had arrived at the correct office. Brown reached for the knob and opened the door.
He was immediately met by another nurse. "Sergeant Brown, if you will follow me, I will take you to the doctor."
Brown thanked her and followed her towards another office. She opened the door and informed the man on the other side, "Doctor, Sergeant Brown is here to see you."
"Bring him in," the man responded.
The sergeant walked into the room and offered his hand to the doctor. "Sergeant Brown from Chief Ironside's office," he told him.
"Good morning, Sergeant. How is your boss, by the way?"
Remembering the mood Chief Ironside was in when he left the office, Ed almost chuckled. He really did not believe the doctor would want to know. "He's fine sir, thank you for asking."
"So, what can I do for the city's top cop?"
"You treated a man by the name of Adam Wright when he was a teenager. I was wondering if you could help me with his background." Sergeant Brown began.
The doctor immediately became uncomfortable with the conversation. "Chief Ironside knows fully well that we cannot discuss the private medical condition of our patients without a court order."
Brown smiled. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the court order the doctor was demanding. He set it down on the desk in front of him. "Is this what you're talking about?"
Doctor Swainson took a few moments to read through the court order. He wanted to make sure he did not give out any information other than what was requested legally.
"Alright, I am satisfied that you have the authority to get this information. What is it you want to know?"
"You treated Adam Wright when he was in his teens. Can you tell me about it?"
The doctor set his hands on the desk and intertwined his fingers. "He was an extremely troubled boy. He started out being abusive to animals, mostly squirrels. He would catch them and then strangle them."
The doctor had Ed Brown's immediate attention. "What did he use to strangle them with?"
"Apparently, he used wire. But that is not all. When he was admitted to this hospital by his parents, we discovered that he had a split personality. The violent part of his personality was telling him to kill these animals. The normal part of his personality would object. Although, the normal part of his personality was not exactly docile"
"What do you mean by that?" Brown asked.
"He was a bully. If people got on his nerves, he would threaten to beat them up. Actually, he really did not do very much of it. He normally was able to intimidate people into backing down from him."
"Why was he released from this hospital?"
The doctor set back in his chair and replied, "As you know, in this day and age there are no forced medical incarcerations. When he was under eighteen, his parents had the legal authority to force him to stay here. Once he turned eighteen, we could no longer hold him here against his will."
"So he left here uncured?"
Swainson shook his head. "I did not say that, Sergeant. He was doing extremely well and would have been declared clinically cured at any time."
"Are you saying he was clinically cured when he was released?" Ed wanted to know.
"He was clinically cured as no longer a split personality. However, he did have some violent tendencies that were not cured here."
Ed thought for a moment and then asked, "Doctor, is it your opinion that he is capable of murder?"
"I did not say that either, Sergeant. I said he was cured of being a split personality. He had an extremely bad temper, which could lead to violence against others. I do not believe that his intention would ever be murder. However, with his temper, he could accidentally kill somebody in a fight."
"One last question, Doctor. Do you have his blood type on file?"
"Absolutely. In case any of our patients are injured, we have to know their blood type. One moment and I will look it up for you." Doctor Swainson started typing on the computer keyboard. A second later he had the answer Ed Brown was requesting. "He has type A blood."
"Are you absolutely certain of that? Please, it is very important that we know his correct blood type."
With a puzzled look, the doctor replied, "I am absolutely certain. While he was here, he cut his wrist. We had to do a blood transfusion. He definitely has type A blood."
The look on Ed Brown's face was that of disappointment. The doctor noticed it immediately. "Is there a problem with that?"
"He fits the pattern in every way for the Night School Strangler ... except the blood type."
"Sorry to disappoint you, Sergeant, but if you are looking for someone with any blood type other than A, Adam Wright is not your man."
Ed stood up and offered his hand to the doctor. After shaking it, the detective turned and headed for the door. "I appreciate your time and help. We may call on you again if it becomes necessary."
"Glad to help. Tell the chief I said hello."
"I will, and thanks again." Brown left the doctor's office rather deflated. Every bit of the information he had received pointed at Adam Wright as the Night School Strangler. The blood type just did not make sense. He wondered if the police lab had made a mistake. After all, they had lost all of the DNA evidence. Was it possible that the Night School Strangler actually had blood type A? Ed was not about to give this up until they were absolutely positive that the Strangler had type O.
*
The pounding in his head had started all over again. Why in God's name couldn't he get rid of these headaches? The Strangler sat at his kitchen table with his head in his hands. There was a bottle of Advil sitting in front of him. He had already taken two of them. Another bottle of Ibuprofen was sitting there as well. He reached for it, snapped off the cap and pulled out two capsules. He didn't care if it was too much. He had to get rid of the headache.
"You know that it's time to remove another lawbreaker." The voice in his head began talking to him again.
"No! No, I will not kill! I will not kill!" He shouted. Placing the capsules in his mouth, he swallowed them without the benefit of water. He would stop the headaches on his own. The voice was not going to force him to kill again. He would not allow it. He was tired of doing the voice's dirty work.
"If you want them dead, do it yourself! I'm all finished killing for you." He shouted at his split personality as he looked up towards the ceiling.
The voice was laughing at him. Laughing hysterically. "You will do what you are told. You have no choice. Unless you eliminate another lawbreaker, your headaches will only get worse. All of the pills in the world will not stop them. Only I can stop them for you. Remember when you used to kill animals. We used to strangle them together. They deserved it as well. Don't you remember the barking dogs, the ones who would not shut up. They gave you headaches, just like you are having now. Those headaches went away when you eliminated the dogs. Just like then, if you eliminate the lawbreakers, your headaches will go away."
"No!!! I won't do it!!!" he screamed.
He ran out of the kitchen and into the living room. Turning on the TV, he noticed that the news was on the station. They were reporting about the latest killing by what they were calling the Night School Strangler. That was who the voice was. He realized it now. He was the Night School Strangler.
The police did not seem to have much information. Would they catch him? He had to help them. He thought that the voice was within him. Now he knew that the voice was actually someone else. It wasn't him at all. He didn't do it!!
"You are a fool! You did do it. You did it because I told you to do it. You don't seem to understand, you are no longer in control. You haven't been for a long time. I am in control. I think it is time I take over. There is two of us, but there will only be one of us eventually and I guarantee it will not be you."
"Just shut up! Shut up! Leave me alone! Leave me alone!"
The look on the Strangler's face changed; the agonizing look disappeared. A calm and serene expression replaced it. The real Night School Strangler grinned. "Finally, I have taken over. No longer will I have to depend on him to remove the lawbreakers. I can now do it myself. He is so weak. Just so weak."
The Strangler went into the study, and on the desk where his host left it, was a list of female students he had stolen from the administration office. He wondered how he ever got his host to do anything. He was so indecisive. Why did he not realize that these women had to be removed? Well now, he would not have to depend on him anymore.
The Strangler shook his head. He could tell that his host was trying to gain control. He laughed at him; that he thought he could ever overtake him. He was the one issuing the orders. He was the one in control. He was the one that would remain in control.
He concentrated on keeping his host in the background. He walked over to the couch and sat down with the list in his hands. Reading the names of the female students that were enlisted at night school, he decided there was one in particular that needed to be removed. She was pushy and thought she was smarter than the men. Well, she would find out that she was weak and unimportant. He would teacher her the ultimate lesson.
Yes, Stella Unger would be next. She would be removed from the campus. He grabbed a piece of paper and a pen, wrote down her address and grabbed the bag he would need to do the job. Opening the zipper, he checked to make sure there was ample wire to go around her neck. At least his host kept the bag filled with what he would need.
The Night School Strangler picked up the keys to his host's car. He headed out the door. He had a job to do since he could no longer depend on his weaker friend to help him.
*
Stella Unger just finished her lunch. All she had time for was a sandwich. She wondered how many peanut butter sandwiches she would eat before she made it through law school. Stella did not have time to fix anything fancy as she was struggling to keep up her grades. She knew the law inside out, but she seemed to choke when it came to taking a test.
She sat next to the fire with her feet drawn up underneath her. Trying to keep her attention on her school work, she kept glancing into the fire as it danced. She could feel the warmth coming from it and she sat there enjoying it.
Stella looked down at her books and tried to concentrate. She knew eventually she would finish law school. There was nothing more in the world she wanted than to become a lawyer. She couldn't understand why when she sat at home, or even in class, she had no trouble comprehending what was taught. Why was it that when she sat down to take an exam, she just couldn't seem to remember the details? When the test was completely over, everything seemed to come right back.
Stella had always been that way. School work had always come easy for her until she had to answer the questions of an exam. Somehow she had managed to get through school with a high B average despite her memory problems when she took the exams.
She had been concentrating so hard on her school work she did not hear the back door being jimmied.
The Night School Strangler entered the small home of Stella Unger and made his way through the kitchen. He stopped as he came to the living room. Hidden off to the side, he peeked around into the room. He could see the woman sitting in an easy chair next to the fire. It turned out to be a perfect setup as her back was to him. He set down his bag, unzipped it and pulled out the wire. This time he was going to be careful. The man he had taken control of took too many chances. He reached into the bag and pulled out a ski mask. After pulling it over his face, he was ready.
With wire in hand, he quietly moved forward toward his victim. She seemed to be engrossed in a book, probably a law book. After all, she was a law student just as he was. But he had a right to be there, she did not. She was a female. Females belonged at home; a point his father had ingrained in him all of his childhood life.
Just as he reached Stella Unger, she turned around and saw him. It would not stop him however as he knew she did not know who he was, and besides there was no way he would bungle her removal as his alter-ego had done.
The Night School Strangler wrapped the wire around Unger's neck and began to squeeze. He could not believe her strength as she struggled against him.
Stella Unger did not panic as she had no doubt that the man attacking her was the Strangler. Glancing over at the table beside her chair, there was a fingernail file. She picked it up and using all of her strength stabbed the Strangler in his left hand. The fingernail file went through the man's gloves and directly into his hand.
The strangler screamed. The wire around her neck loosened. Stella stomped on his foot with her heel. She only wished she had not taken off her spike heels. The spike on the shoes that she had warned that day would certainly have had more of an impact than her bare foot.
She attempted to get away from him but he recovered much faster than she could have imagined. Once again, he tightened the wire around her neck. Stella fought with everything from within her, but it wasn't enough. She could feel the air leave her lungs. She could no longer draw any in do to the strangler's hold around her neck. Soon everything begin to turn black and she went limp.
He did not hesitate. He had to get out of there in case someone had heard him scream. He did not want to be discovered in her house. The Strangler was not about to make the same mistakes as his host had done. Hurrying for the door, he did not notice he had left blood all over Stephanie Unger's neck and the t-shirt she had been wearing.
He had been in such a hurry that he had forgotten his bag which was sitting in the hall just the other side of the living room. The Strangler beat it out of the house as fast as he could as he walked swiftly down the street to where his car was parked.