Bind, Torture, Kill: The Inside Story of BTK, the Serial Killer Next Door by Roy Wenzl, Tim Potter, L. Kelly, Hurst Laviana
Tags: Fiction, General, Social Science, Biography & Autobiography, True Crime, Biography, Serial Murderers, Murder, Criminology, Criminals & Outlaws, Case studies, Serial Murders, Serial Killers, Kansas, Serial Murder Investigation, Serial Murders - Kansas - Wichita, Serial Murder Investigation - Kansas - Wichita, Wichita, Rader; Dennis, Serial Murderers - Kansas - Wichita
Ads: Link
said.
Later, at his mother’s house, he sat in shock.
After nights on the job now, he sometimes drank to forget.
19
1984
The Ghostbusters
Ten years after the Oteros were killed, city officials approached Chief LaMunyon one day and began to ask about BTK. The more they talked, the more they surprised LaMunyon.
No one had heard from BTK in five years, but people were still scared. Gene Denton, the city manager, and Al Kirk, a city commissioner, wanted something done. They asked what it would take to catch BTK.
“Money and manpower that I cannot spare,” LaMunyon said.
To the chief’s amazement, Kirk said they wanted to make it possible.
The city did not give LaMunyon more money but gave him temporary discretion to move around what he had in his budget. Denton told him he could have a computer. Personal computers were a new thing; LaMunyon realized that a computer could save thousands of man-hours by crunching numbers, holding enormous amounts of data, and giving cops the ability to quickly compare lists of suspects.
When a snag developed about the cops getting one, city official Ray Trail loaned them his.
LaMunyon planned the most sophisticated investigation in city history, employing not only the data-crunching but new FBI theories about behavioral science, and the fledgling science of genetics. The cops had BTK’s DNA�in the dried semen stored in an envelope since the Oteros died.
LaMunyon handpicked task force members after talking to commanders.
“Tell me who your best people are,” he said.
A few days later, Landwehr’s supervisor told him to go to LaMunyon’s office for a new assignment. Landwehr felt a flicker of insecurity, wondering what he might have done wrong. When he got to the chief’s office, Landwehr saw several men he knew: Capt. Gary Fulton, Lt. Al Stewart, and officers Paul Dotson, Ed Naasz, Mark Richardson, and Jerry Harper. There would be one more, he learned: Paul Holmes, an officer who had been wounded along with his partner, Norman Williams, in a shoot-out at the Institute of Logopedics near Twenty-first and Grove in 1980.
Chief LaMunyon said he was forming a secret task force.
“And you guys are it.”
They were an odd group. Holmes, who had killed a man, was short, skinny, and soft-spoken. He took thorough notes in tiny block letters; he was good at organizing. The chief had monitored Holmes’s recovery after the gunfight and learned that Holmes and Harper had worked the BTK case for eight years on their own time, studying files and interviewing people.
Stewart knew more than most people about computers.
Dotson, witty and thoughtful, quickly became one of Landwehr’s best friends. He felt drawn to Landwehr in part because they were both ambitious, self-doubting perfectionists, and they loved macabre humor.
LaMunyon had monitored Landwehr’s recovery from his arm injury and knew he’d helped make Special Olympics the department’s official charity. He had heard that Landwehr partied hard but also that he was resourceful.
Except for Holmes and Fulton, none of these guys had hunted BTK, but LaMunyon liked that. He thought it was time for fresh eyes.
“Tell no one what you are doing,” LaMunyon ordered them. “Not your wives, not even my deputy chiefs.”
Access to their room was granted only to LaMunyon and task force members. One day, when a deputy chief tried to walk in, Holmes shut the door in his face. The deputy chief yelled, “Let me in there now !”
“No,” Holmes said.
By late 1984, the Eagle ’s crime team had a new member. Hurst Laviana had come to the paper two years before with a degree in mathematics. He was quiet, analytical, and prone to solitude.
He knew nothing about BTK. One night he went out to cover a homicide. It would turn out to be a routine murder. As Laviana left, Stephens called out.
“Make sure you ask the cops if the phone line was cut.”
“Why?” Laviana asked.
Some of the BTK evidence was now ten years
Later, at his mother’s house, he sat in shock.
After nights on the job now, he sometimes drank to forget.
19
1984
The Ghostbusters
Ten years after the Oteros were killed, city officials approached Chief LaMunyon one day and began to ask about BTK. The more they talked, the more they surprised LaMunyon.
No one had heard from BTK in five years, but people were still scared. Gene Denton, the city manager, and Al Kirk, a city commissioner, wanted something done. They asked what it would take to catch BTK.
“Money and manpower that I cannot spare,” LaMunyon said.
To the chief’s amazement, Kirk said they wanted to make it possible.
The city did not give LaMunyon more money but gave him temporary discretion to move around what he had in his budget. Denton told him he could have a computer. Personal computers were a new thing; LaMunyon realized that a computer could save thousands of man-hours by crunching numbers, holding enormous amounts of data, and giving cops the ability to quickly compare lists of suspects.
When a snag developed about the cops getting one, city official Ray Trail loaned them his.
LaMunyon planned the most sophisticated investigation in city history, employing not only the data-crunching but new FBI theories about behavioral science, and the fledgling science of genetics. The cops had BTK’s DNA�in the dried semen stored in an envelope since the Oteros died.
LaMunyon handpicked task force members after talking to commanders.
“Tell me who your best people are,” he said.
A few days later, Landwehr’s supervisor told him to go to LaMunyon’s office for a new assignment. Landwehr felt a flicker of insecurity, wondering what he might have done wrong. When he got to the chief’s office, Landwehr saw several men he knew: Capt. Gary Fulton, Lt. Al Stewart, and officers Paul Dotson, Ed Naasz, Mark Richardson, and Jerry Harper. There would be one more, he learned: Paul Holmes, an officer who had been wounded along with his partner, Norman Williams, in a shoot-out at the Institute of Logopedics near Twenty-first and Grove in 1980.
Chief LaMunyon said he was forming a secret task force.
“And you guys are it.”
They were an odd group. Holmes, who had killed a man, was short, skinny, and soft-spoken. He took thorough notes in tiny block letters; he was good at organizing. The chief had monitored Holmes’s recovery after the gunfight and learned that Holmes and Harper had worked the BTK case for eight years on their own time, studying files and interviewing people.
Stewart knew more than most people about computers.
Dotson, witty and thoughtful, quickly became one of Landwehr’s best friends. He felt drawn to Landwehr in part because they were both ambitious, self-doubting perfectionists, and they loved macabre humor.
LaMunyon had monitored Landwehr’s recovery from his arm injury and knew he’d helped make Special Olympics the department’s official charity. He had heard that Landwehr partied hard but also that he was resourceful.
Except for Holmes and Fulton, none of these guys had hunted BTK, but LaMunyon liked that. He thought it was time for fresh eyes.
“Tell no one what you are doing,” LaMunyon ordered them. “Not your wives, not even my deputy chiefs.”
Access to their room was granted only to LaMunyon and task force members. One day, when a deputy chief tried to walk in, Holmes shut the door in his face. The deputy chief yelled, “Let me in there now !”
“No,” Holmes said.
By late 1984, the Eagle ’s crime team had a new member. Hurst Laviana had come to the paper two years before with a degree in mathematics. He was quiet, analytical, and prone to solitude.
He knew nothing about BTK. One night he went out to cover a homicide. It would turn out to be a routine murder. As Laviana left, Stephens called out.
“Make sure you ask the cops if the phone line was cut.”
“Why?” Laviana asked.
Some of the BTK evidence was now ten years
Similar Books
