Midnight Rambler_ A Novel Of Suspense Part 10

"Then why did he become violent?"

"I have a couple of theories," I said.

Linderman straightened in his chair. "Go ahead."

"Skell's reaction to being arrested reminded me of many pedophiles I've arrested. They know their lives are about to become a living h.e.l.l, so they get crazy."

"Do you think Skell is a pedophile?"

I nodded again.

"But he doesn't have a record for pedophilia," Linderman said.

"I think he's a closet pedophile," I said. "Look at the victims he picked. They'd all been robbed of their childhoods and were emotionally immature."

"Children in adult bodies," Linderman said.

"That's right. I think Skell knew the consequences of preying on kids were severe, so he targeted immature women as a subst.i.tute. He chose women in the s.e.x industry because he knew there would be less concern if they went missing."

"Perfect victims," Linderman said.

"Exactly. My other theory concerns Melinda Peters, the prosecution's key witness at Skell's trial. Skell kept her locked in a dog crate and played 'Midnight Rambler' on his stereo while standing in the next room. Melinda told me she thought he was masturbating. One day, Skell acted stressed out, and Melinda sensed he couldn't get an erection. She offered to have s.e.x with him, and he let her out of the cage. That's when she bolted.

"I think Melinda's escaping sent Skell over the edge, and he went from being a closet pedophile to being a killer. He started picking up women who'd say they'd have s.e.x with him, and murdered them."

"So his fantasy changed from torturing women to killing them, with Melinda Peters fueling his rages."

"That's correct."

"I read in the newspaper that Skell's house was examined from top to bottom by a team of forensic experts and was absolutely clean," Linderman said.

"Correct again."

"So if you hadn't started his CD player, Skell would still be on the loose."

"Yes."

There was a brief silence as Linderman digested everything I'd said. Talking about the investigation had made me feel better, and I leaned back in my chair.

"Your turn," I said.

CHAPTER TWELVE.

Linderman went to the blinds and darkened the room. I like to work in the light, and he was obviously someone who gravitated toward the dark. When he sat down, I saw weariness in his face and offered to get coffee from the bar.

"That would be great," he said.

While waiting for my order, I called Jessie and got voice mail. I wished her luck in her basketball game tonight and told her about a dream I had where she was. .h.i.tting three-pointers from all over the court. The bartender delivered a steaming pot and two mugs on a tray, and I went upstairs and served my guest.

Caffeine takes ten seconds to hit your bloodstream. Linderman's face sparked to life, and I topped off his cup without being asked. He nodded his appreciation and began.

"I happen to share one of your theories, which is that s.e.xual killers like Skell start out as s.e.xual predators and over time evolve into killers," Linderman said. "This evolution is one of the reasons they're so difficult to apprehend. They often become experts at deception, learning to hide their impulses from society for many years."

"So my a.s.sumption that Skell was a pedophile is probably true," I said.

He placed his empty cup on the tray. "Oh, it's definitely true. I started looking at Skell the moment I came to Florida. He's lived all over the state. While living in Tampa he was suspected of being a pedophile. The police saw him in his car near several schools. He was also caught frequenting teenage girl chat rooms on the Internet. It wasn't enough to enable us to arrest him, but he was definitely on everyone's radar."

"Why did you start looking at him?" I asked out of curiosity.

"He lived in Miami five years ago," Linderman said.

The same time Linderman's daughter lived there, I thought.

"Part of my job is to a.n.a.lyze killers like Skell to find recognizable behavioral patterns," Linderman said. "These patterns usually explain motivation, which is essential to prosecution and conviction. Recently, I began examining the transcripts of Skell's trial. I believe I may have uncovered something."

I grew rigid in my chair.

"Something I missed?"

"Yes. I'm sure it did not seem significant at the time, but that's because you're not trained in criminal psychology. But it was significant to me."

"What did you find?"

"Melinda Peters testified that 'Midnight Rambler' was constantly played during her imprisonment in Skell's home. The song she heard was a different version of the song you just played for me. Skell played the live version for Melinda Peters, taken off an alb.u.m called Get Your Ya Yas Out Get Your Ya Yas Out."

I knew this, having listened to the live version as well. The lyrics were the same as the alb.u.m cut, and I hadn't given the detail any weight.

"So?"

"The live version has a unique lineage," Linderman said. "It was recorded during the Stones' 1969 tour of the United States and is part of the soundtrack of a doc.u.mentary called Gimme Shelter. Gimme Shelter. The film chronicles a free concert given at Altamont Speedway in California. The concert was a disaster, with eight hundred and fifty people injured, three killed, and a black man murdered by a gang of h.e.l.ls Angels hired as security in plain view of the band. The film chronicles a free concert given at Altamont Speedway in California. The concert was a disaster, with eight hundred and fifty people injured, three killed, and a black man murdered by a gang of h.e.l.ls Angels hired as security in plain view of the band.

"The resulting publicity nearly destroyed the Stones' careers. If you watch the film carefully, the band appears to want want something violent to happen during their set. When it does, the Stones are playing 'Sympathy for the Devil,' and they something violent to happen during their set. When it does, the Stones are playing 'Sympathy for the Devil,' and they continue continue to play." to play."

"Goading the violence on?"

"It certainly looks that way on the film. Vincent Canby, the film critic for the New York Times, New York Times, was so outraged that he called the movie an opportunistic snuff flick." was so outraged that he called the movie an opportunistic snuff flick."

"And you think this is what fuels Simon Skell's rages."

"No. They fuel his rituals," Linderman said.

"What's the difference?"

"Psychos.e.xual disorders are defined as paraphilias, which are recurrent, intense, and s.e.xually arousing fantasies that involve humiliation or suffering. The partners in these fantasies are often minors or nonconsenting partners."

"I'm with you so far," I said.

"The presence of paraphilias in s.e.x crimes generally means highly repet.i.tive and predictable behavior patterns focused on specific s.e.xual acts. The repet.i.tive nature of the paraphilia is the ritual. To become aroused, Skell must engage in the act."

"And Skell's paraphilia is to listen to the live version of 'Midnight Rambler' while torturing his victims," I said.

"All evidence points to that," Linderman said. "Gimme Shelter was released in 1970, when Skell was seven years old. That's the age when paraphilias usually develop. My guess is, he saw the film and was s.e.xually stimulated by the song's violence toward women and the film's violence. Over time, the two became linked." was released in 1970, when Skell was seven years old. That's the age when paraphilias usually develop. My guess is, he saw the film and was s.e.xually stimulated by the song's violence toward women and the film's violence. Over time, the two became linked."

"And a deviant was born."

"Precisely. But that's the problem with this case. Based upon everything we know about s.e.xual killers, Skell should have been caught long ago, and with far more evidence than what was presented at his trial."

I swallowed the rising lump in my throat. The faces of the victims were staring at us, and I could almost feel their shame.

"Did I screw up the investigation?" I asked.

"Far from it," Linderman said. "If not for you, Skell would still be murdering young women."

"Then what are you saying?"

"What I'm saying, Jack, is that it's amazing you did did catch him. catch him.

Most people who engage in s.e.xual rituals cannot change their habits, even when they suspect law-enforcement scrutiny. As a result, they make need-driven mistakes and are their own worst enemies. But this isn't true with Skell. He chose his victims with utmost care and made them disappear in a way that so far has defied detection."

"Why is Skell different?"

Linderman paused to give me a probing stare.

"That's a good question. You believe that Skell is a pedophile who evolved into a serial killer. I think he's evolved even further. He's used his superior intellect to become organized and ruthlessly efficient. A killing machine, if you like. Only he can't do any killing from behind bars, so he's now orchestrating his own release from prison."

"You think he's behind this smear campaign against me?"

"Absolutely."

"What do Leonard Snook and Lorna Sue Mutter stand to gain, besides seeing themselves on TV?"

"A million-dollar movie deal."

"But that's illegal."

"Skell can't profit from his crimes, but his wife can, and she's signed a contract with a Hollywood studio," Linderman said. "According to the FBI's sources, she's cut Snook in on the deal. He's getting a 20 percent cut and is executive producer."

"Did you tell the police and the DA?"

"I briefed Bobby Russo and the district attorney yesterday," Linderman said. "They both felt that unless more evidence was found linking Skell to his victims, he'll be released from Starke."

Linderman was describing my worst nightmare, and I slowly came out of my chair.

"What can I do?"

"Keep digging for evidence," Linderman said. "You should also be thinking about what you're going to do if Skell is released."

His words were slow to register.

"Do?" I asked.

"If Skell walks, he'll come after you. You're the person he's most afraid of, as evidenced by the campaign he's waging against you. In order for him to continue to survive and practice his rituals, he'll have to take you out of the picture."

My office grew deathly still. The silence was so complete that I felt as if I were underwater.

"What about Melinda Peters?" I asked. "Will Skell go after her, too?"

"That would be a logical a.s.sumption. Melinda is the object of Skell's murderous fantasies and and is responsible for him going to jail. More than likely, she will be his first target." is responsible for him going to jail. More than likely, she will be his first target."

"What do you suggest she do?"

"Run."

That was easy for Linderman to say. Melinda had left home as a teenager, and like so many runaways, she had no place to run to to.

Linderman looked at his watch. Then he stood up.

"I'm sorry, but I need to go."

"Of course," I said.

Linderman took out his business card and placed it on my desk. He thanked me for the coffee and urged me to stay in touch. Then he walked out the door.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

Bob Dylan said, "You don't need a weatherman to know which way the wind blows."

I sat at my desk and stared into s.p.a.ce. Although Linderman had left an hour ago, his presence hung like an odorless cloud. I thought about the timing of his appearance and the fact that our meeting had ended with a warning about my safety. It could mean only one thing: he knew something I didn't.

But what what? Before paying me a visit, Linderman had met with Bobby Russo and the DA and shared the same information that he gave me. I had worked with the FBI enough times to know that this sharing didn't come without a price. Linderman got something in return, and I spent the next twenty minutes trying to determine what it was.

Buster crawled out from beneath my desk and stuck his head in my crotch, a cue that he wanted his ears scratched. I obliged him, and when I was done, he wagged his b.u.t.t, then went to the door and whined. It was the same routine every day. Nap, scratch, pee. If only my own life were so simple.