After the state appellate and supreme courts denied Burgos an immediate appeal, it was clear that Burgos’s incriminating statements would be introduced at trial. Just yesterday, the day after the supreme court denied the appeal, Terry Burgos entered a plea of not guilty by reason of insanity to six counts of first-degree murder.
This case was no longer about proving Burgos committed these crimes. This case was now about proving that Burgos was sane when he did so.
“Sounds like you have the prostitutes locked down,” Mullaney said.
Riley nodded. Not only could they put each of the hookers in the truck; they also had learned that Burgos was acquainted with each of them. Other prostitutes had easily identified Terry’s photograph as a regular customer with Angie, Jackie, Sarah, and Maureen, though when asked none of them knew the name “Terry Burgos.”
Burgos had always called himself “Tyler Skye.”
The time frame worked, too. The police had been working under the assumption that the women had been murdered in the order they’d been placed in the auditorium basement. The medical examiner had backed that up, more or less, and of course the manner of death had matched the song lyrics sequentially.
From what they knew, the evidence also supported this chronological theory. Ellie Danzinger, the first woman killed, had ordered food into her apartment at 5:35 P.M. on Sunday, June 18, so she was at least alive at that time. From her answering machine, they knew that she had received five phone messages, beginning at 10:15 P.M. that same night, that Ellie had never checked, much less returned. So the operating theory was that Burgos had broken into her condo sometime between those time intervals, beaten her, and abducted her.
And now they had been able to pinpoint the last-known whereabouts of every prostitute, too, confirming that Burgos had killed these women on consecutive days. Angie Mornakowski on Monday, June 19, between nine and nine-thirty; Jackie Davis on Tuesday night, around ten-thirty; Sarah Romanski on Wednesday night, around ten; and Maureen Hollis on Thursday, again around ten.
“Cassie Bentley is more difficult,” Riley said. It was ironic, he thought, that hookers would be easier to pinpoint in terms of LKWs than the students, Ellie Danzinger and Cassie Bentley. Given their line of work, it would be easy to vanish a hooker. But college girls?
“Students who are not students during the summer,” said Mullaney.
That, of course, was one of the problems. School was not in session, not even summer school yet, and these two rich girls didn’t have jobs. The other problem was, the best person to ask about the whereabouts of each of these girls was the other one.
Cassie had had dinner with her mother at their home on Tuesday, June 20, before going back to campus in preparation for summer school the following Monday. They never heard from her again. The fact that Wednesday through Saturday had passed without a word from Cassie had been the reason for Harland’s call to County Attorney Mullaney the day before the bodies were found.
“Especially Cassie,” Riley added. “She’s a real question mark.”
“The timing, you mean.” Mullaney was a big-picture guy, but he had kept close tabs on Cassie Bentley’s case. He’d recently told Riley that Harland Bentley called him twice a day.
The problem was, it appeared that Burgos had killed the girls on consecutive days, beginning with Ellie on Sunday, through Maureen, on Thursday. If the pattern followed suit, Cassie should have been murdered on Friday, June 23, the day after Maureen Hollis. But that hadn’t matched with the medical examiner’s estimate. The M.E. calculated Cassie’s death had most likely been Sunday, June 25-the day before all the girls were discovered.
Which meant Burgos had skipped two days before killing Cassie.
“Serial killers usually escalate their pace,” Riley said. “Not slow it down.”
Mullaney nodded with concern.
And then there was Burgos’s comment to Lightner about Cassie during the interrogation: “Cassie saved me.” What did that mean? How did Cassie “save” Terry Burgos? Was he referring to some salvation for completing his murder spree?
Mullaney was nodding with too much enthusiasm. He wagged a finger at Paul. “Cassie’s a problem,” he said. “She could muck this whole thing up.”
Riley rolled his neck. Exhaustion swept over him. He needed to get out of this chair and back into the office. “Oh, we’ll figure it out, boss. We’re not there yet but we will be.”
“No, I’m concerned. I’m very concerned about this, Paul.”
“Now that he’s pleading insanity,” Riley said, “he’s conceding he did it. We’ll be fine.”
Mullaney shook his head and eased his large frame out of his chair. “We still have to prove the elements on every one of these girls. And who knows what Larrabee will try to do with that time frame. This is a problem.”
Riley watched his boss. Mullaney wasn’t a worrier. Not for this kind of stuff. He hired people like Riley to do the worrying.
When Mullaney had summoned him, Riley had assumed it was a periodic update-almost daily since the murders. Now, he wasn’t so sure.
“Something on your mind?” Riley asked.
Clearly, something was. Mullaney yanked up his pants and sighed heavily, moving toward the window. “Paul,” he said, “I gave Harland my word that his daughter wouldn’t be dragged through the mud.”
The slow, compliant nod of Paul’s head became a shake, no. “The victims’ personal lives are going to be front and center, boss. Burgos had a specific reason for each of them. Each of them committed a sin, in his eyes-at least, that’s what he’s going to say. I don’t know how well he knew Cassie from that class that he sat in on, but whatever he’s going to say about her, he’s going to say. She was a whore, she was a lesbian-”
“Oh, yes.” Mullaney waved a hand. “I had to ask Harland, you know. I had to ask this grieving man if his daughter was a dyke. I don’t think he can handle that kind of thing in the public eye.”
Riley nodded like a good soldier, trying to read between the lines.
“The Bentleys aren’t just
Riley didn’t speak.
“Hell, Paul, look at the coverage on Harland and Natalia’s separation last week.”
Riley had read it, too. Reports were that the Bentleys were divorcing. The skinny was, their daughter Cassie had been the only thing holding them together.
Mullaney turned to Paul and leaned on the windowsill. “Paul, another thing that concerns me here is putting all our eggs in one basket.”
Riley watched his boss without responding. The thought had crossed his mind as well. In a multiple-murder case, one school of thought was to hold back one of the victims. In the unlikely event that something went south and the defendant beat the charges, you could always charge him again with the other, remaining victim. Two bites at the apple.
“What are you saying to me, boss?” Riley asked.
Mullaney opened his hands. “This is going to be a circus, as it is. Subtract the Bentleys-”
