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the Hollywood Sign, the Taj Mahal, and the Gateway Arch were nothing compared to Brush Creek. His obsession of the creek is out of this world.”
“Where did this obsession start?”
“Only God knows.”
“The women he murdered and mutilated, he could’ve dumped their bodies anywhere around the city. Why did he choose Brush Creek to do so?”
“The answer would have’ta come from him?”
“You think he knew we were coming?”
“I’m sure he had some clues we’d be moving in on him.”
Dr. McKinnis showed up wearing protective gear. He had his DNA kit in hand and was ready to go back to work. Dr. Barney Purvis of the KCPD crime lab also came prepared to take on a new challenge. Workers under them came with diligent attitudes and fresh minds.
“Glad you could come on short notice, Doc” Overstreet praised, a man he’d given his livelihood to.
“We started this investigation together, and we’re going to see it through together,” Dr. McKinnis said with strong conviction.
“Like all the others?”
“Yes, like the good, the bad, and the ugly ones.”
“We haven’t really found anything, Doc, that’s of any use to us.”
“The fun hasn’t even began yet.”
Overstreet stepped across the room to pat Dr. Purvis on the shoulder. “Doc Purvis, can’t thank you enough after the department dispatched you to this maniac’s apartment.”
“I live for this work, Lieutenant.”
“We’re hoping we leave here with enough evidence to put this sicko away for the rest of his unnatural born life.”
“Anything as of yet?”
“Like I told Doc McKinnis, we haven’t come upon anything yet.”
“Well, let’s get started.”
The closet in the front room was cluttered with piles and piles of junk.
One of the novice detectives scrambled until he came upon something he found substantial. “Hey, Lieutenant, take a look at this.”
“A look at what?”
A long and heavy Full Tang Monster Machete was brought to the front of the closet. “This baby right here.”
“Sweet Mother Jesus!” Overstreet ruffled, both eyes bucked in amazement.
“Where’d he get a sword like this from?”
“Be careful with that,” the officer had been cautioned.
“Feels like it weighs as much as I do.”
Overstreet tapped his heels into the hardwood floor to get Dr. McKinnis’ attention. “Doc McKinnis, take a look at this.”
Dr. McKinnis came towards Overstreet overshadowed with intrigue. “Could it be, detective?”
“Doc, the machete you described to me several times in the morgue. This has got to be the same machete you were talking about.”
“The Full Tang Monster Machete,” Dr. McKinnis described upon observation. “It looks like the same make and model used to chop down tall vegetation during the Vietnam War.”
“There’s no doubt in my mind that this is the same machete he used to dismember the women’s body with. Didn’t you tell me, Doc, that he knew where to cut and how to cut?”
“That I did, detective. During his tour of duty in Vietnam, he might’ve used machetes to dismember the bodies of his enemies.”
“This thing is large enough and sharp enough to chop up a bull elephant. Look at how sharp the blade is. Look at how firm the handle is.”
Dr. McKinnis gave the blade a quizzical look. “Detective, can you hold the blade about mid-way in the air?”
“Sure can.”
“Steady, now.”
He took a powerful magnifying glass and examined the blade from the tip to the butt near the handle. “There’re tiny splatters of blood still on the blade.”
“We’ve got to get this baby to the lab as soon as possible.”
“A DNA blood-pattern can be performed. The lab’s DNA computerized database should be able to tell us who the blood belongs to.”
“Can it possibly belong to both the perp and the vic?”
“Very possible, detective.”
The “Dream Team” commissioned by the KCPD were still hard at work. Digital cameras used by other detectives snapped several photos of Charlie’s apartment. Quite a creepy place, they went into every room to photograph evidence.
Dr. McKinnis made more discoveries. “Detective, come over here and see this.”
“What’cha got there, Doc?”
He pointed to blood droplets near the closet where the machete had been discovered. “Our perp made an attempt to clean up any evidence.”
Two opinions might’ve been better than one. Dr. Purvis came over to the closet door with his magnifying glass and DNA collection kit. He handed Dr. McKinnis an equally powerful magnifying glass and they both made close observations.
“What, he tried to scrub the floor to make it free from the mess he left behind?” Overstreet inquired.
“Yes, he did exactly that,” Dr. McKinnis reasoned. “There is powdery residue here on the floor, which tells me he tried to scrub away every bit of evidence.”
“The residue being what type of home cleaner?”
“Ajax, Comet, maybe some other type of household cleaning agent.”
“Blood dries and it’s hard to clean up. Am I correct, Doc McKinnis and Doc Purvis?”
“Correct you are,” Dr. McKinnis confirmed.
“You’re right on the money,” Dr. Purvis nodded.
Charlie wasn’t as smart as he thought he was. The dummy cleaned up behind himself after killing and amputating his victim’s body parts, but didn’t get the job done in its entirety. There were minds far more clever than his. Detectives and police officers turned over mattresses and emptied every dresser drawer in the bedroom. The bedroom closet was cleared out of all items. A novice detective under the stewardship of Overstreet and Carey stumbled upon two full boxes of disposable urine collection bags. A pharmaceutical supply company from way up in New Jersey shipped them into Kansas City for Charlie to have access to.
“Lieutenant Overstreet, Detective Schroeder,” the detective dispatched, holding two unwrapped bags in opposite hands. “Can you guys come in here for a second?”
“What is it?” Overstreet asked, coming through the bedroom door with a pen and notepad.
“Look what I found in the closet.”
“Urine disposal bags?”
“A bunch of them came from those two boxes.”
“Why so many of them?”
“That’s the question of the day.”
Overstreet popped his fingers. “Doc McKinnis, can I see you in here, please?”
Dr. McKinnis entered the bedroom still holding his magnifying glass and components to the DNA kit. “Find something in here, detective?”
“Whaddaya gather of this?” Overstreet asked, holding up one of the urine bags.
“Yes, URO-3000 collection bags.”
“Look familiar?”
“Familiar is putting it rather lightly. Nursing home patients that I’ve performed autopsies on have worn those same type of urine collection bags. The reinforced eyelets for easy hanging and maximum protection against tearing looks very familiar.”
“Anything else?”
“The long super-smooth tube, the two-thousand milliliter capacity, the universal tapered connector, they all appear to be the best qualities for a urine collection bag.”
“Any other features?”
Dr. McKinnis ripped open the plastic to examine one of the bags. “Well, they have non-return valves and drainage outlets unlike your average bag.”
“Which says what?”
“Our perp could be dealing with serious urine and bile problems.”
Sandy’s delicate voice spoke. “Wouldn’t that be putting it mildly, doctor?”
“Mildly? How?” Dr. McKinnis asked, turning the bags every which direction.
“The night he tried to attack me, I grabbed him down by his private parts. Believe me, he had no genitals, whatsoever, down there. Could it be that he uses those urine bags to collect his body waste since he has no organs to release his waste?”
“Very possible,” Dr. McKinnis determined. “Our main person of interest could’ve suffered a major war wound and lost his private parts.”
Overstreet tuned up his vocals. “Doc, are you saying that his genitals could’ve been decapitated from his body?”
“During combat, it’s been known to happen to many soliders.”
“How unlucky can one guy get?”
Carey commandingly stepped through the bedroom door. He waved a set of medical discharge papers. “Here’s all the proof that you’ll ever need.”
“What proof, Cork?” Overstreet inquired.
The stunning discovery had Carey breathing with excitement. The stack of papers he held would’ve been considered more secretive than top FBI or CIA information. “Jerry, these documents explain why our perp wears the urine collection bags.”
“How, Cork?”
“Take a look for yourself.”
Carey handed over the papers to Overstreet. Having fierce reading and comprehension skills, he scanned the medical documents Charlie had sitting around after being discharged from the United States Army. Overstreet read one clause after another. Each sentence broke down details of the excruciating tragedy Charlie suffered in Vietnam.
“These DD 214 discharge papers tells us why Mister Charlie left the Vietnam War,” Overstreet spilled out before his colleagues.
“The detailed medical report explains the misfortune Charlie had to carry around for the rest of his life. He got sent back to the U. S. when the Army could no longer deal with him.”
“The Army packed him away with enough spin codes.”
“Spin codes?”
“The Separation Program Numbers they give you when you’re separated from military duty. Charlie Boy got a 271 code for being permanently retired by reason of physical disability.”
“That we can see why.”
“He got
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