Queen of Hearts
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Queen of Hearts - Richard Foschino
Copyright © 2011 by Richard Foschino.
ISBN: Softcover 978-1-4568-9450-4
Ebook 978-1-4568-9451-1
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Edited by Etta Pettijohn
Cover photograph by:
T2Graphic Design
T2graphicdesign.com
This book was printed in the United States of America.
To order additional copies of this book, contact:
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93799
Contents
PREFACE
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
True Crime Novels
By
RICHARD FOSCHINO
*
MOUNTAIN REVENGE
The Frost Bottom Bones Case
*
MOTHER’S BLOOD
A True Crime Story
*
FINAL JUDGMENT
The Murder in Hoskins Hollow
*
FICTION
*
AVENGED
Please visit our web site www.booksbyacop.com
To Vonda, the love of my life.
My friend, my lover, my wife.
My Queen of Hearts
PREFACE
Criminal history has unfor-tunately recorded many documented cases of serial murders throughout our country. In fact, the United States has more documented cases of serial killers than any other country in the world. Scores of books have been written, and movies have been produced, detailing the madness of the complex personalities of these infamous psychopaths, who are sometimes responsible for the senseless murders of forty or fifty people over a period of time.
Detailed studies have been made, sometimes with their cooperation, in an attempt to learn what drives some human beings to such cases of random violence against others. There are three types of serial killers. The thrill seeker is a person who kills because he sees eluding law enforcement as a game or enjoys the media attention to his acts. The second is the mission-oriented killer who thinks he is doing a favor for society by ridding it of certain groups of people, such as prostitutes. The third is the power and control killer, who really enjoys the pain and suffering of his victims, and enjoys the terror and pain they experience by his hand.
The burden upon law enforcement of identifying, apprehending, and obtaining enough evidence to convict a serial killer is difficult and sometimes impossible.
Many times a serial killer will take something from his victim as a souvenir, or leave something, usually on or very near the victim, as his signature.
Although this story is strictly fictional, author Richard Foschino draws on his more than thirty years of real life law enforcement experience and homicide investigative skills to provide the reader with an accurate account of the in depth and complicated investigation being conducted by a small city police department, of a series of seemingly identical murders.
The City of Willow Grove, Tennessee was stunned when a young married woman was discovered strangled to death in her own home. The police were baffled by the crime and lack of leads or apparent motive in the case. They were even more puzzled by the fact that the killer left the playing card, the queen of hearts, on the partly naked body of the victim.
The citizens became paralyzed with fear as additional victim’s bodies, killed in an identical manner, each with a queen of hearts left on the body, were discovered.
Veteran Detective Lieutenant Tony Capelli struggled with the responsibility to solve these unprecedented acts of violence that plagued the city. Through his experience, he knew that a serial murderer usually does not personally know his chosen victims; they are usually chosen at random. With everyone in the city, from the mayor’s office to the general public, convinced that a stranger had invaded their city and was killing vulnerable women, he was forced to keep to himself his opposing theory that the killer not only lived and worked in Willow Grove, but also knew each of his victims.
The investigation became even more complicated, intense, and personal when the third victim of this madman was the wife of Detective Sergeant Roger Malone, who had been assigned as lead detective in the first murder.
Lieutenant Capelli was originally driven by nothing more than a gut feeling, but eventually began to uncover evidence that would lead everyone to the fact there was something even more sinister in the City of Willow Grove than a random serial killer.
Chapter One
The foot pursuit through back yards and over fences in the usually quiet residential neighborhood started when Detective Sergeant Roger Malone spotted Daniel Allen Pointer emerge from the back yard of one of the homes. Malone recognized Pointer immediately from prior investigations and arrests, and Pointer could spot an unmarked police car a mile away. He knew Pointer didn’t live within twenty blocks of the neighborhood, and he was just as certain none of his friends lived on this side of town, and in the types of homes Pointer was lurking around. Malone knew there were outstanding warrants for his arrest for violation of probation and failure to pay his fines. Either Pointer had just burglarized the house or he was running because he also knew there were active warrants on him, and had better things to do than spend another night in the county jail.
Malone played football in high school and was in great physical shape, but he wanted to end any foot pursuit quickly. The midday sun was high, and the humidity was even higher. He was not looking forward to getting his shirt and tie wringing wet with perspiration. While he radioed for backup he kept Pointer in sight, slowly stalking him like a cheetah would its prey before pouncing. When the patrol unit was in sight he bailed from his unmarked unit, and the chase was on. With the help of the patrol officer, Pointer was cornered in a fenced in back yard, apprehended, and dropped to the ground like a sack of rocks.
What are you running for, Daniel?
Malone asked breathing heavily.
You know I got paper on me, Malone. I just didn’t want to go to jail.
What were you doing behind that house?
Just taking a shortcut, man. I’m heading over to see my old lady. I ain’t done nothing wrong.
I hope for your sake that’s the truth. This officer is going to take you to your home away from home, and I’m gonna check out that house. You better hope they don’t have as much as a broken window,
Malone said.
The patrolman slapped Pointer’s hat on him and put him in the back seat of the police car, while Malone went back to the house. There was no one at home, and he didn’t see any signs of forced entry, so he left his business card in the door with a note asking the residents to call him when they arrived home. He was headed back to the jail. Malone was interested in talking to Daniel Pointer about several other burglaries he suspected him of committing. He felt Pointer just got lucky this time. He was sure he was going to break into the house if he hadn’t spotted Malone’s car coming down the street.
Roger Malone was a pretty big man, standing about six feet tall, and weighing just under two hundred pounds. Only ten years as a police officer had already started to give his jet black hair a hint of gray on his temples. He has sported the same, neatly trimmed mustache since he was old enough to shave. Roger Malone was a man one could tell was a cop; just by the way he carried himself. He had been a patrol officer for about eight years, and was assigned to the detective division about two years ago. While he was on patrol, he didn’t get along very well with some of the other officers. Most of them thought he was one of those know-it-alls, who was bucking so hard to become a detective that he would do just about anything to make himself look good in the chief’s eyes. Malone was a good officer. He was smart, made good cases, and he knew how to make them stick. He was keenly aware of how the bad guy thinks, and this seemed to give him an advantage over some of the other officers. The resentment from his fellow officers was a result of his always making sure the chief knew it. Some people that knew him well said he had kind of a funny turn to him. He didn’t talk much, and seemed to have absolutely no sense of humor. Actually, most of the guys were glad he was no longer working patrol, although they resented some of the tactics he used to get the promotion.
Malone was in his late thirties. His first wife divorced him after seven years of marriage; a marriage she claims was pure Hell. They had two children together he rarely saw, because they lived with their mother. He swears she has the kids brainwashed against him. Forced by the state to pay child support, he knew if his current wife didn’t work he would be hard pressed to pay all his bills on the salary of a police officer.
He has been married to his current wife, Mary for just over two years, and the sailing wasn’t smooth on this ocean either. They met at a party not long after Roger and his first wife were divorced. Some of the guys that know him best said it was love at first sight, while others said he got married just to spite his ex-wife. Roger claims he loves her, but rarely shows any proof of this. It’s not unusual for a married police officer, especially a detective, to have heated arguments with his wife. Most of the time they were about the odd hours required for his job or money issues. The reason for most of their fights, however, is each one suspected the other of having an affair. It was nothing either one could prove yet, but it was taking a toll on the marriage.
Mary Malone was a plainly pretty woman, appearing much younger than her thirty-two years of age. She was tall, thin, and looked sexy if she was wearing an evening gown or a sweat shirt and blue jeans. She was never married before she met Roger, and maintained her shapely body by working out six nights a week at the gym. She spoke softly and had a thick southern accent. Anyone spending just two minutes talking with Mary would immediately like her. She had a genuine personality; there was nothing false about her.
Roger would stand to lose a lot of money if they were ever to get a divorce. Mary’s parents were both killed in a traffic accident six months ago. When their estate is settled, Mary will inherit almost a million dollars. For that kind of money he figured he could put up with her bullshit for as long as he needed to. Then, he’ll figure a way to dump her.
When Roger got finished checking the house he headed to the county jail to interview Pointer. Although there were two interview rooms at the jail, Malone often brought the inmate outside, in front of the building to talk to them. He smoked cigarettes and often offered the person he was interviewing one. He felt this worked in his favor, because they could not smoke in the jail, and it made him look like the good cop.
Daniel Pointer was a twenty-three year old thief and drug addict. He had been living in Willow Grove since he was eighteen, when he moved from Covington, Kentucky to turn his life around.
Although he was more than six feet tall, he only weighed one hundred forty-five pounds. The fact that he would rather eat a hand full of pills than a well-balanced meal was really starting to take a toll on his health. A very handsome young man at one time, he now looked like a walking dead man. His eyes were sunken into his head and had dark shadows around them, making him look like a raccoon. His muscle tone was almost completely gone, and the once tight fitting clothing he wore now hung on his body like a toga. His once plentiful head of brown curly hair was falling out on a daily basis.
So Daniel, what have you been into lately?
Roger asked as he escorted the shackled inmate out the front door.
Same old shit, Malone. Just trying to stay out of trouble and get by.
Are you working anywhere?
Shit. Ain’t nobody gonna give me a job with my record and you guys breathing down my neck all the time.
So how are you getting by? How can you live without any money? You ain’t doing any burglaries are you?
he asked as he took out a pack of cigarettes and offered one to Pointer, before lighting one up himself.
He was amazed at how Pointer’s attitude changed as soon as he took the first puff of the smoke.
Hell no, Malone. My old lady takes care of me. I take care of her and she takes care of me, if you know what I mean,
he said, with a great big smile on his face.
I know one thing for sure, Daniel. You can’t take care of her if you’re in here.
Yeah, I know that. Man, I swear if I could get out I’ll have them fines paid in a week. I had a couple of things that were gonna pay off for me until I ran into you today and got myself pinched.
Malone offered, and Pointer accepted another smoke.
Listen to me, buddy. We’ve had a shit load of burglaries in the last month or so. Actually, when I think about it, they started really picking up just after you got out of jail the last time.
Wait a minute, Malone. I ain’t done those burglaries. I swear to you. I’ve just been with my old lady, and I ain’t broke into no houses.
I didn’t say you did, Daniel. I’m just saying it sure looks funny that you get out and the burglaries are out of control. What would you think?
I know what you’re saying, man but I didn’t do no burglaries. Shit, I’m already on state probation for burglary. You know as well as I do if I get caught one more time I’m gone for at least ten or twelve years.
Tell me this then. If you didn’t do them maybe you might have heard on the street who did. I know you’re not the only burglar in the city.
I might could find out something for you, but not if I’m in here.
Maybe I could talk to the DA and put this probation thing off for a while,
Malone said.
Man, if you did that for me I promise you I’ll have something for you in a week.
Roger Malone did not like Daniel Pointer at all. He had known him since he first moved to town, and he’d always been in trouble with the law. Roger actually resented the fact that he had arrested him at least six times, and he had never been sent to the pen. However, he knew it would be in his best interest right now, for him to have Daniel on the street. Burglaries were hard to solve, and he needed all the help he could get, even if it meant sticking his neck out for a dirt bag like Pointer. Anyway, he knew it would just be a matter of time before Pointer would be back in jail for something else.
Let me see what I can do. I’ll go up and see the DA and let you know something in a little while.
Thanks, Malone. I won’t let you down. Can you give me one more smoke before I go back in?
Hell, buddy, you’ve already smoked half a pack.
Just one more.
Okay. But pick up your butts and give them to me. If the sheriff sees all those butts out here he’ll raise Hell with the chief, and I won’t be allowed to bring anyone out here to talk to anymore.
The silence of the still, mid-summer night was shattered by the chilling scream of sirens. Descending upon the usually quiet residential neighborhood of Pearl Street in Willow Grove were at least half a dozen marked patrol cars, an ambulance, and two detective’s units. Arriving quietly, with only a dash mounted blue emergency light flashing, was Lieutenant Tony Capelli. He never did like proceeding to death scenes with his siren blasting, and saw no purpose in calling any more attention to the scene than was necessary. In his mind, all