Bollar had planned this out the past couple of days. The IPF agent now knew about Billy Bourbon and had confronted him, and Billy was an opportunist who knew too much about Bollar. It was only a matter of time before Billy started talking. He just couldn’t take that chance. Bollar was walking away when Billy’s knees gave out. Then Bollar stopped and thought for a second.
Chapter Sixty-Two
Dawson DeLaRue pulled to the curb next to the other police cars. Another victim was found in the park by a jogger. He got out and started walking across the vast field where soccer and touch football games were played, toward the tree line where the big oak has stood for over a hundred years. Dawson could see Frank in the distance through the trees with the other crime scene techs. Frank saw DeLaRue and started walking toward him and met him halfway. They walked together the rest of the way and under the crime scene tape.
“Well, Dawson, not your serial killer! MO's all wrong,” Doctor Riviera said. “Knife was larger, maybe a hunting knife, and one incision below the stomach which disemboweled him. Could have been a crime of opportunity such as it is.” The three of them walked over to the body. “Maybe he got into an argument or something because robbery wasn’t the motive.” He pointed along the ground. “We have some shoe prints that are not our vic’s. We’re making casts now. Looks to be Todd Welsh men's, size ten. I’ll know better by tomorrow.” He paused for a moment then, “Now, this does not fit our serial killer's MO. But, it does fit with the MO of the Phizer’s murder and heist.” The doctor pointed, “See, his two index fingers were cut off. The perp must have taken them with him, just like the guard's at Phizer’s.”
Frank bent low to get a good look at the man on the ground. “Hey! I know this guy. It’s William Jamerson, street name Billy Bourbon.” He straightened up and addressed DeLaRue. “Local pimp, drug dealer, fence, you name it, Billy’s done it. Just a grade-A piece of shit. He was busted a couple of years back for selling heroin.” Frank grinned, “Eugene busted him on that one. I think he got out a couple of months ago.” He circled around Billy’s body being careful not to step on the lower intestines. “I guess he finally pissed off the wrong person.”
Dawson was a little relieved that it wasn’t his serial killer, and now had a connection to the Phizer’s job. But, another murder to solve which would take time and manpower away from the serial killer investigation. He exhaled, his breath thick in the cold air. He looked around the park, trying to recreate the murder in his mind. He imagined the two men walking up together to this very secluded location deep into the park, or maybe one was waiting for the other. Most likely they came in from Seventh Avenue where they could have parked their cars. He could see the road through the dense tree line. Even if someone was standing on the sidewalk and looking into the park it would have been impossible to witness the crime.
Dawson watched the cars going up and down 7th. He watched a new model Volkswagen Bug disappear behind the trees and reappear, then disappear again like an old flickering silent film. It disappeared behind a cluster of trees, and Dawson looked at the end of that cluster waiting for the Bug to emerge, but something else caught his eye. He could see only the rear end of a white vehicle parked at the curb of the park. He walked a few yards to his right in order to see past the cluster of trees. He already knew what he would see. “Frank?”
Frank trotted up to the lieutenant, “Yeah, LT?”
DeLaRue didn’t take his eyes off the vehicle, he just raised an index finger and pointed. “Frank, what do you see right over there? To the right of that bunch of trees.”
Frank scanned the area at which his boss was pointing. At first he didn’t see anything, but then, “Well, I’ll be a son-of-a-bitch!”
“Yup! That fucking ‘59 Ford,” Dawson said, as they both started the long walk toward the parked Thunderbird. Frank reached into his coat for his radio.
Jeff, Genghis and Jennifer were parked at the curb overlooking the park. “Is it really him?” Jennifer asked Jeff, as he looked through the binoculars.
“Yes, I think so. Hard to see through the trees, but I think it is Billy.” Jeff lowered the glasses. “This can’t have anything to do with you and me talking to him the other day, could it?” Jeff looked over at the Doberman Pinscher sitting in the backseat.
“No, I don’t think so, Jeff,” Genghis answered. “He’s a known felon with criminal ties, so anyone could have had a reason to take him out.”
“Genghis is right, Jeff,” Jennifer chimed in. “Billy had a lot of people who hated him.”
“Drug deal gone bad?” Genghis thought for a moment. “Twinkie, did he deal in a lot of illegal drug trade?”
“Billy dealt in anything and everything that could bring him some extra money. Drugs, girls, stolen stuff,” Jennifer said, trying to see the crime scene through the trees. She couldn’t. However, she could see two men come out through the trees and started walking across the field. Just then, they heard the single squawk of a siren as a police car pulled up behind them with lights flashing.
The uniformed officer got out of his car and walked toward the driver's side of the Thunderbird. “Good afternoon, sir.” He looked over to Jennifer.
