Rich has returned to the home he ran away from six years earlier. He’s back living with his parents, hoping to make amends for the pain he caused them. Two years have passed since returning home. That’s where this story begins.
(Originally posted on the Jittery Goat)
Episode 22
Three days passed. Rich completely cleaned the truck camper. He also performed the recommended maintenance with Enid's advice and assistance, and helped Enid with the engine he was working on.
They sat down for supper. Enid prepared crappies that Rich had caught from a nearby pond. They talked as they ate.
“This is really some very good fish,” Enid said. “Half butter, half peanut oil. That’s the trick.”
“Nah,” Rich joked, “it’s all in how you catch ‘em.”
“How’s that?” Enid said. “I’m anxious to hear your explanation.”
“How would I know?” Rich said. “I just wanted to keep the conversation going.”
Enid laughed. “You’re a fine lad, Rich. I’m going to hate to see you go.”
“I’m going to hate to leave,” Rich said.
“So what’s next for you?” Enid asked.
“I’m going to move around a little,” Rich said.
“Like when you sailed?” Enid said.
“Yeah, exactly,” Rich said. It was the first time he had connected the two events. “It will give me some time to think. Hiram had a paralegal who assisted him. She will be a lawyer before long, and I assume she will take over his practice. That’s the way Hiram wanted it. In time, I’ll contact her. She believes in my innocence. I’m missing his funeral. I hate that. I should be there to pay my respects.”
“But you can’t,” Enid said to comfort him.
“Yeah,” Rich said. “Just a thought.”
“Do you believe in coincidences?” Enid asked.
“I’m not sure where this is going,” Rich said.
“It’s a straightforward question,” Enid said. “I’m sure you must have thought about it from time to time.”
“I have,” Rich said. “Sometimes they seem quite innocent, and other times uncanny.”
“Here’s what I think,” Enid said. “Problems and situations happen all the time. Somewhere, solutions exist. They are always there. Sometimes we recognize them, and other times we ignore them. When we recognize that an event and a solution are connected, we say it's a coincidence. I think I’m making this harder than it is, but do you grasp my point?”
“Do you mean that by recognizing them, we create them?” Rich asked.
“Well done, bravo!” Enid said. “I needed help with the engine. By coincidence, you showed up, eager to help. I couldn't have done it without you. So what about you?”
“Well, I got a chance to lay low for a few days,” Rich said. “I’m not going to worry about where I’m going to lay my head at night. I've got the camper.”
Enid grinned broadly. He waited for Rich to grin back. Then his face became stern. Rich sensed something bad was about to happen.
“I’m sorry for my sudden change,” Enid said. “You see, in my bedroom are several other books and journals. I have come across something that may be a coincidence.”
“I’m interested,” Rich said.
“First of all,” Enid said, “was it a coincidence you stopped here? An automobile mechanic, a former doctor and coroner, who subscribes to a half-dozen unsolved crime magazines. I used to read about cases and call the investigating departments. To them, I was just another crackpot. Investigators live on coincidences but fail to recognize them. There is too much arrogance in law enforcement. They need to be sure, but never arrogant.”
“That’s my experience too,” Rich said.
“And, in part, that’s what drove you to flight,” Enid said. “It may be the only thing that will save you. Society thinks an innocent man should turn himself in and let authorities prove his innocence. That reasoning is flawed. Innocent men serve time, are executed, or live in suspicion because of incompetence, prejudice, or bias.”
“It sounds as if you have familiarized yourself with a lot of different situations,” Rich said.
“And, lad,” Enid said, “you have lived them and are living it again. You deserve a break. Here’s what I think: you would have gotten off. Either the prosecutor would have found out there wasn’t enough evidence to move forward, or if they did, you would have been found not guilty. Not guilty and innocent aren’t the same. The police, the prosecutors, some on the jury, and maybe even most of the community would have been convinced that you got away with murder. That would follow you until the day you died and continue to hang over your name.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Rich said. “I’ve thought about those things subconsciously. When you say them, they are not a revelation to me.”
“There are a number of unsolved mysteries and cases,” Enid said. “There are similarities and a pattern. I'm working on one now.”
“Coincidences?” Rich queried.
“A discernible pattern,” Enid said.
“And I’m here at the time you were able to add to or complete the pattern?” Rich asked.
“Yes,” Enid said. “And you are likely the only one with the motivation to find out who killed your parents and the others.”
“You’re talking about a repeater?” Rich asked.
“Indeed,” Enid said, raising his eyebrows.
Rich tried to hide his natural skepticism. He did not want to offend Enid’s desire to help or his intellect, though Enid was too astute to miss it.
“I suppose you might doubt I am a doctor at this point,” Enid said. “That I might be an old codger lost in his novels, wrapped up in my imagination, living in a world created by dementia and flights of fancy.”
“Convince me,” Rich said. “I want to be convinced.”
“That is a logical and reasoned response,” Enid said. “And fair. And expected. Let’s finish. Then I have something to show you.”
They finished the meal and quickly cleared the table. Enid went into his bedroom and returned with a folded map. He placed a blank piece of paper on the table and handed Rich a pencil.
“Print the capital letter K.”
Rich printed the letter K.
“There are five points,” Enid said, pointing to each. “The top and bottom of the vertical stem. The top of the diagonal arm. The bottom of the other diagonal leg, and the point where they meet. Five points. If I place a dot on the map at the top, as if making a K run straight down to form the stem, I can link two murders. Then, by completing the K with two diagonal lines, I can find three more murders—the tops and bottoms of the diagonals, and where they meet.”
“That’s five points,” Rich said. “Are you able to connect murders using that method?”
“Yes,” Enid said. “All rural areas.”
Rich lined up the letter K. “Washington to California. Idaho back to Oregon and down to Nevada.”
“Move east,” Enid said.
Rich pointed to the marked locations. “Montana to Colorado. North Dakota back to Wyoming and down to Nebraska.”
“All in a different state,” Enid said. “It makes it difficult to connect the dots.”
“Here’s another,” Enid said. “Kansas to Texas, Missouri to Oklahoma, and down to Louisiana.”
“Where do my mother and father fit in?” Rich asked.
“I’m not sure,” Enid said. “The points on the map that make the letter K don’t follow chronological order. However, the complete letters do. He finishes one before starting the next.”
“What part of the K is he on?” Rich asked. “And at every one of these points that make the letter, there has been a murder?”
“The second,” Enid said. “And every point.”
“There are three more to go,” Rich said. “How long has he been doing this?”
“Fifteen years,” Enid said.
“So you want me to try to find him or lead the police to him?” Rich asked.
“No one will listen to me,” Enid said, “and it will clear your name.”
“What else can you tell me about him?” Rich said. “You must have a pretty good picture of him.”
“He’s a loner,” Enid said. “He’s in his late fifties. He’s likely charming and manipulative. He has above-average intelligence and he's a college graduate. He’s resentful. His work takes him anywhere he wants to go. You won’t find him in a bar. He likes to watch people. He’s like a predator searching the herd for his next victim. Like a predator, he knows which ones to strike. Once he knows, he moves quickly. Sometimes he’s in and out of a community without notice. To him, it’s an art. Now, I may not be right on all of these, but these things are part of a proven profile.”
“Is it always couples he murders?” Rich asked.
“No,” Enid said. “Singles, men, women, young, old. The killer has an amusing view of murder. Some of his murders are sadistic. It looks as if your mom and dad's were not. He was probably in a hurry and wanted to add to his letter K.”
“Is the K for kill?” Rich asked.
“I think so,” Enid said. “But I also think K is prominent in his name. Kyle, Karl, or Kelly. The last name could be Kill, Keller, or, for that matter, something like Kennedy.”
“Where will I start?” Rich asked.
“If I knew, I’d take you there myself,” Enid said. “He doesn’t necessarily move into an area that he has targeted. He has a spot picked out. He could be days away from it. When the urge comes over him, when the rage bubbles over, when he can no longer hold it in, he moves like a cheetah.”
Rich sat quietly, looking over the map. “That’s a lot to process.” He reached into his shirt pocket. “Here’s the title to the Jeep.”
Enid went into his bedroom and came out with the title to the truck camper. He signed it and handed it to Rich. “You can fill out the rest.”
“It’s been nice knowing you, Enid,” Rich said, shaking his hand. “I’ll be back someday.”
“I hope it’s not too long,” Enid said.
“I’ll sleep in the camper tonight and leave before sunup.” Rich reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a roll of bills. “A thousand dollars.”
“Keep it,” Enid said. “Where am I gonna spend a thousand dollars?”
“You could fly to Australia,” Rich said.
Enid tapped a finger against his head. “Already been there. Seen the koalas, wombats, and kangaroos, mate.”
“Someday I’ll tell you about the kangaroo I met.” Rich smiled and walked to the door. He turned back to Enid. “I believe you, Enid.”
“Take care, lad,” Enid said.
Rich walked down the stairs to his camper. He wondered about coincidence. There are too many of them to be an accident. He went to sleep.
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