Deeply discouraged as an only child with dysfunctional parents, especially of his disillusionment of motherhood, Jerry Dunn carries emotional baggage with him as he later joins the Marines. Though he distinguishes himself in battle he is only further disillusioned by the typical self seeking actions of his superiors. His already damaged psyche takes a further hit after his discharge. He joins the Memphis Police Force where he again rises quickly in achievement, and escalates to Homicide Detective, only to find that nothing is different, only proof that men everywhere are full of dishonesty and hypocrisy. A moniker of "Dirty Jerry", that he would not have chosen for himself, was attached to him by the press as a result of his heroics under fire. His search for something that was true and honorable, however, seemed to escape him at all turns and made him even bitterer. Suddenly and mysteriously, he finds himself embroiled in an extremely complicated and perverse murder case where he is astonishingly accused of the crime; a crime where nothing seems to fit proper Police procedure. The network of evil extends in many directions and threatens to engulf him along with many others. Just when he is at his peak of bitter cynicism, he sees a ray of sunshine in truth and integrity only to have it taken away, then returned and then taken away again in a shattering experience of an emotional and bizarre turn of events. The single ray of hope that he has looked for all his life, seems illusive at best. But may hinge on a very strange and conflicting set of heart rending circumstances, going against everything he has learned in his early life.

Dirty Jerry

Faith in the real worldBy T.F. Bohn

AuthorHouse

Copyright © 2011 T.F. Bohn
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4634-0891-6

Chapter One

COLD WEATHER KILLER

"... those who plow iniquity and those who sow trouble shall harvest it." Job 4:8

The building was one of the upscale, new, ultra secure apartment houses built in Memphis, Tennessee, one of the most violent cities in America. It was only three years old in an area not far from the massive Cook convention center, renowned throughout the United States.

It was a typical cold winter evening where most people were inside hugging their fireplace and bundled up to keep from getting chill blains. But ambience aside, many were outside looking toward the near new, beautifully landscaped, apartment building that claimed to have all the latest security systems people require today.

Three black and whites were in front, while another blocked the road. Two uniforms were taping off the area with crime scene yellow tape signifying someone was killed.

It was late evening when most people should be at home getting ready for bed, but instead the neighbors were lining the street on both sides gawking at the many blazing red and blue lights, and the confusion down the street.

Though everyone was paranoid about their own personal safety, they still wanted to see a possible bit of carnage against someone else. It's as if they wanted to witness something that they feared and yet were drawn to the possible excitement of some blood being spilt, spicing an otherwise dull and mundane lifestyle.

Inside, on a ground floor apartment, photographers were shooting the near nude bodies of a young woman Jennifer Logan and her two young daughters Sheryl and Kaitlyn.

CSI had gotten through with their vacuuming and meticulous quest for clues, now Detective Dunn was taking his time trying to figure out what might lead him to the perpetrator. The little desk in the living room with its meager offering of bank notes and papers revealed nothing of significance, with no strange monetary deposits or withdrawals, a letter from her mother in Idaho, some junk mail and little else that would tell him anything. He scribbled a few notes.

Searching the bedrooms he found them orderly with the beds made and all waste baskets empty. Nothing out of the ordinary in the clothes closet, everything neat and clean

The bathroom was as normal as a fastidious person would have it. No drugs, except some Tylenol, mouth wash, a tube of Neosporin and toothpaste with three toothbrushes. A small box of band-aids and cold cream were sitting on the counter as was a box of Q-tips and some Vaseline and of course several hair brushes and combs and a blow dryer.

A large black sedan drove through the Police barricade and stopped by the ornate beige apartment house, with swaying palms along the front. A uniformed officer popped out and opened the door for a large man in a suit and tie, with a topcoat. It was a very cool and brisk evening.

Entrance to this Bastille like structure was first through the card keyed parking structure, which was propped open, then through a tall electronic gate, also braced open. This is the garden area. There were two more electronic doors, each with an officer holding it open, and then into the atrium area and the apartments.

The residents had to pass through four locked entrances to get into their living quarters. But this is what the people paid top dollar for, absolute security.

The man in the suit spoke to the officer at the first door,

"Is Dunn here?" The officer nodded toward the building.

Detective Jerry Dunn was kneeling down beside the one girl holding her limp hand with his eyes closed and a tear running down his cheek as the coroner began zipping body bags.

The gory scene was so gross that two grizzled officers had to leave, each thinking of their wives and children and almost retching at the arena of blood at this scene.

To those who didn't know, it would look as if remorse was overtaking him, but the Detective's emotion was not just for the woman and her children but for the deep anger that rose within him, for the animal that caused this brutal attack.

He was a cop known to carry a vendetta against those who would prey on the innocent and the defenseless. A killing of gang against gang, or other forms of a man against another man in combat, he could handle that. But each crime of passion and murder against the vulnerable or the poor, he took personally and it drove him into a rage.

As always, a driving commitment to make the killer pay became his persona; find the perpetrator and bring him to justice, one way or another, alive or dead, which ever he chooses.

The tall suited man just silently waited for the detective to rise before he said anything.

Finally he rose, with fury in his eyes and stared off in the distance.

"What do you think, is this the same guy as two weeks ago, you know, the McCarthy woman?"

Detective Dunn said nothing for a minute then turned to the Chief.

"It's him alright.... the same MO and almost certainly the same knife. It seems he likes to do it only in cold weather when all are inside. Each of the two nights has been bitter cold. For now, I'm calling him "the Cold Weather killer" until we get a name."

"What's the plan? Who do you want working with you?"

"I could use some uniforms to stay around here for the next two days, to ease the tension and fear that will surely grow when the occupants hear of this. A couple more to do some perusing the grounds and surrounding neighborhood tomorrow. They won't get much done tonight, it is late. I will call if I need any more help. I will be working alone though, no partner, others just get in the way, besides I have all the help I need."

The Chief knew that he meant his stable of informants which was more extensive than any other in the department.

Since his former partner was killed almost a year ago, he mostly worked alone. Some guessed that he wanted to work alone because of certain things he did might not be according to rules and regulations. But he usually got the job done so this was overlooked.

Two weeks prior there had been another killing of a single woman, Denise McCarthy, killed the same way. She was in her apartment alone and for some reason allowed the man to come in. There were no clues and, of course, no one saw or heard anything. That apartment also was advertised as a highly secure residence. They were still working on that one, but it seemed to be a blind alley.

He still couldn't figure how the guy talked his way into a woman's apartment at night. And, of course there was no one alive to answer that question.

Dunn, with a stoic resolve and deep anger steeped in his eyes, looked straight at his Chief.

"It's time to take the gloves off. This perp doesn't deserve any powder puff police procedure that the politicians want. I'm going to take him down, that's a promise. Don't stand in my way." He then started walking out scanning his pad of notes, adding another thought, and then jumped into his pickup truck that he had 'tricked up' and could out run any Crown Vic in the motor pool. Some rubber chirped as he drove away.

The Chief stared after him and mumbled to himself,

"Some rules will surely be bent and I pity the other guy."

At his apartment Dunn sat down and went over his meticulous and copious notes. It was always his habit to try and write down everything, no matter how small, as it was sometimes the small things that were relevant to solving a case.

1. The next door neighbor said she heard 'A muffled short bit of talking and a hum.' But she dismissed it. That was nearly an hour before she heard the manager scream.

2. No one had seen anyone coming or going. Of course not, it was too cold to be out, everyone was inside keeping warm. The preliminary search of the grounds turned up nothing as expected.

3. The Officers that had canvassed the neighborhood had come up with nothing from those who were still up. They would come back to morrow and finish. No strange car was seen in the area.

4. The perp seemed to target the most secure places as if it were a challenge; also, he was adept at getting through electronically gated and locked places. He seemed to pick very cold nights to do his evil.

5. The brutal viciousness of the attacks. The big puzzle, though, was how did he dupe the women to let him in? Did they know him, was he a friend, or was he a relative?

6. The same knife or the same type was used and numerous stab wounds on the two women, when any one would have done the job, if merely killing them were the object. But only once for the girls, why the difference?

7. The manager had gone to the apartment to give the woman some of the jam his wife had made. There was no answer when he rang so he took his keys and opened the door to put the jar inside, as he had done before, and saw the carnage and screamed then ran to the phone.

8. The other killing, the McCarthy woman, she had stopped off at the manager's apartment with a question of when someone was to fix her bathroom exhaust fan, and then went straight to her place. About forty minutes later the manager called her with the information but there was no answer so he went over to her apartment and saw her on the floor through the curtain that had been partially pulled back. Only forty minutes for the killer to get in and do the woman and leave unnoticed. Was he already in the grounds but hiding somewhere?

9. The McCarthy woman was single, divorced, childless, and attractive, no relatives in the area, slender and a skier.

10. The manager said that the Logan woman was recently widowed and had no male friends to the best of his knowledge. She was a very nice lady who took her children to church each Sunday and was a friend to everyone in the apartment, a very pleasant person. The only other activity that he knew of was that they often went to a gym together.

11. It appeared as if the killer had carefully scouted his prey before hand and knew just when they were home, and when traffic was at a minimum to do his deed. He had breached two of the most secure building in the area. Bars, security lights, card opened subterranean parking garage, electronic doors and gates to open.

12. According to the occupants and the manager, no one had come in or gone out in the past few hours to allow him access. He had gone straight to the apartment as if he knew just where to go.

13. No one had seen anyone coming or going during the time frame of the murder.

14. He had not bound them unless he untied them after the deed, but there were no marks on their wrists. Surely the rape occurred before the killing, but how did he render them helpless?

15. He must have been keyed sky high on something as he methodically molested one after another while the others were either restrained or were rendered unconscious, then savagely goring them with some kind of a large knife, not once but many times as if he was in a rage. Did he know them? Was there a hidden secret of hatred that incensed him? Was he just some sort of maniac? But he had to be an intelligent maniac, which makes him even more dangerous.

16. If he was a stranger where did he get the information that he must have needed, to gain entrance? He strongly felt that the key was how he obtained entrance to a single woman's place at night.

Early the next morning a phone rang and the short man in the side room of the main precinct of the PD, picked up.

"Primdas." Joe Primdas, a black man from Guiana, was a civilian computer expert for the Police Department and a good friend of Detective Jerry Dunn.

"Joe, how does someone obtain information and background of a stranger and how would someone get the knowledge to open electronic locked doors in a secure building?"

"Mon, computers do more dan jus send email and get the news. A good 'cracker', or as most say 'hacker', can almost get anyting he wants. All he haf to do is find a persons server and den it takes little effort to then go phishing a....

"What's fishing got to do with all this?"

"No, no not fishing with an F, but phishing, with a PH. Dats searching the internet for information about someone. See, you first have to find a persons server, den follow it back to der computer den find der password and 'crack', into der computer.

All information transmitted over da internet is broken down into 'packets' and den reassembled into usable form. You gotta sneak in a 'packet-sniffer', a program loaded on der server which jus diverts packets of information to anoder computer, your own, and den listen for a while until you get what you want. But as to where dey live, only home owners are listed, renters Nada. Der must be some odda ways dey finds out where dey lives.

But we can maybe see if someone is searchin for lock info. Manufacturers are so careless dat dey proudly show you how der locks work etc. You can even break into a home alarm system and silence it. But it would take a guy who is almost a wizard ta do all dat."

"You're a wizard aren't you Joe?"

"If I do say so, yeh, I am dat"

"What if you wanted to find another wizard who was going around hurting people, how would you go about it?"

"Tell me what you are lookin for and I'll give it a shot and we'll see what comes up."

He gave him what information he had on the two cases.

"There is a person who wants certain lock information of high security places of residence. He also wants possibly family information of single women. He will probably find out the weather and pick a cold night when everyone is inside and he will not be seen. Oh, and he uses a large knife, maybe an army ka-bar or similar type."

"Ill get on it right away and let you know as soon as I get it. Chao"

The CSI gang had picked up some fibers and will analyze them but it was doubtful this guy would leave anything that would be from him. All the fingerprints were of the occupants and no latent's. They had checked everything, even in the trash buckets. Nada. Nothing else had been disturbed

Tests showed no other blood but of the victims. None of the locks were jimmied; not even a scratch mark and they were of the newest type.

The coroner had not found anything besides knife marks on the woman and the girls except a few bruises that occurred during the struggle. The rest of the autopsy would take some time.

Dunn had put out a notice on the street to be on the lookout for any stranger in town, looking for single women probably a young robust man who was no doubt a smooth talker and good dresser.

He then spent the evening cleaning his gun. His personal choice was the Austrian made Deutsch-Waffen Glock 17, with 9 mm Parabellum ammo with a 17 round magazine, what is now the choice of law enforcements around the world. It was made with a Polymer, plastic frame and is lighter than the all steel ones. Parabellum was the name given by Deutsch-Waffen when they made ammo for the German Luger. It stands for "If you want peace- prepare for war."

He took the gun apart and carefully cleaned and oiled it so that all parts were clean and smooth, then put it all together and tried the slide several times. Slipping the magazine back in he set the safety. Then he stared into nothing while going over and over the hideous case.

His phone buzzed and he anxiously answered before he looked at the caller

"Dunn."

"Detective Dunn, I hear you are hot on the heels of a murderer, who do you think he is, got any leads?" Sally Crassweller of Channel 8. He had forgotten that he had given her his number once to stall her.

"Sally, how did you get this story, it hasn't even been mentioned yet on Police broadcast."

"Oh, I was a little late to the action at the apartment the other evening and I overheard talk, you know we news people get around, now come on help me out some, OK?"

"We don't know much at this time. It just happened and we are still sifting through possible clues. The investigation is just getting started." She might write something anyway. I'd better give her something or she might ruin things. "But I'll tell you what Sally, if you will help us by holding off and not compromising the investigation till I say so, I will give you an exclusive. Right now information is scarce but I might have something for you very soon. Just say an ongoing investigation is being held for a killer of single women', OK"

There was silence for a short time then reluctantly she agreed.

"I'll call you just as soon as we learn something."

Two nights went by and he was getting antsy with no information coming in from either Joe or his informants.

(Continues...)

Excerpted from Dirty Jerryby T.F. Bohn Copyright © 2011 by T.F. Bohn. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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