other easier knot to work with or distract your mind. Why don’t you develop
more
cases?”
People talk about the “Aha!” or lightbulb moment in their lives when a truth becomes self-apparent, that point when they go, “Of course! That’s what I should do!” And I probably owe the rest of my career in part to the advice of that hotline nurse. Wherever you are, I thank you.
DURING THE YEARS I waited for the police to act, I became a regular reader of my local newspaper,
The Washington Post
, and I learned that Anne Kelley’s death was not unusual at all.
My original view that this was an anomaly or some freaky circumstance proved to be the height of naïveté. There were deadwomen turning up all over the Washington, D.C., and Maryland metro area.
In Washington, D.C., alone there were 123 unsolved murders of black females between 1986 and 1996; add in women of other races and female victims killed over the borders of the city in the neighboring states and God knows how many women have been murdered in the area over recent years. If we add in sexual homicides of men and children, the number grows even larger.
Who killed Nia Owens, Dana Chisholm, and Ann Bourghesani? Who murdered Chandra Levy, Joyce Chang, and Christine Mirzayan? Could criminal profiling link any of these cases? Were these murders the work of a serial killer?
How many killers were really out there, living in our neighborhoods, blending in among us, and committing heinous crimes with little fear of being apprehended?
Why had all of these cases remained unsolved?
Dead women were turning up everywhere. It’s like when you’re pregnant and suddenly you notice how many other women are pregnant.
What freaked me out was that not only were there so many dead women, there were no arrests made on a good many of these cases, particularly on the homicides that were clearly serial murders. A woman doesn’t usually end up strangled and naked in the bushes because she had a bad boyfriend. And even if one woman had a boyfriend who raped and murdered her, it’s hard to believe each one of these dead women had a separate rapist for a boyfriend. I didn’t think so. All indicators pointed to serial killers.
I realized that the Anne Kelley case wasn’t an island unto itself. But it was the only knot I was picking on, trying to loosen up a lead, make a bit of progress, and it was driving me nuts.
Why don’t you get some more knots?
I asked myself.
That advice was brilliant. Without knowing it, it was precisely what I needed to hear. Many victims of crime find that if they can put their knowledge to use and help someone, maybe the unfortunate event that fate brought them wasn’t all for naught. That’s when I first got the inkling that while I may never solve the Kelley case,there are plenty of unsolved murders out there. Who committed those?
I printed out what pictures I could find of female victims of unsolved homicides in my county, and I rented a booth at an outdoor festival. I laminated all the pictures and hung them up in a big circle around the table. Under each, I wrote, “Unsolved.”
People would walk up and their mouths would fall open.
“These are all unsolved in Prince Georges County?”
“Yes,” I’d say.
“You mean nobody was ever caught?”
They’d recognize a picture of Lisa Young, because their daughter had known her at school or because they were in town when the crime occurred.
“Didn’t the police ever catch Lisa Young’s murderer?”
I’d just shake my head.
Then they would point to another photo.
“They never caught that killer either?”
“Oh, my God,” I heard over and over again. “I thought these murders were solved.”
The pictures I selected represented just fifteen unsolved cases, less than 10 percent of female victims of homicide in my area over the last two decades. I realized that I should have been trying to get ten guys off the street, not just one. And the problem wasn’t that one police
more
cases?”
People talk about the “Aha!” or lightbulb moment in their lives when a truth becomes self-apparent, that point when they go, “Of course! That’s what I should do!” And I probably owe the rest of my career in part to the advice of that hotline nurse. Wherever you are, I thank you.
DURING THE YEARS I waited for the police to act, I became a regular reader of my local newspaper,
The Washington Post
, and I learned that Anne Kelley’s death was not unusual at all.
My original view that this was an anomaly or some freaky circumstance proved to be the height of naïveté. There were deadwomen turning up all over the Washington, D.C., and Maryland metro area.
In Washington, D.C., alone there were 123 unsolved murders of black females between 1986 and 1996; add in women of other races and female victims killed over the borders of the city in the neighboring states and God knows how many women have been murdered in the area over recent years. If we add in sexual homicides of men and children, the number grows even larger.
Who killed Nia Owens, Dana Chisholm, and Ann Bourghesani? Who murdered Chandra Levy, Joyce Chang, and Christine Mirzayan? Could criminal profiling link any of these cases? Were these murders the work of a serial killer?
How many killers were really out there, living in our neighborhoods, blending in among us, and committing heinous crimes with little fear of being apprehended?
Why had all of these cases remained unsolved?
Dead women were turning up everywhere. It’s like when you’re pregnant and suddenly you notice how many other women are pregnant.
What freaked me out was that not only were there so many dead women, there were no arrests made on a good many of these cases, particularly on the homicides that were clearly serial murders. A woman doesn’t usually end up strangled and naked in the bushes because she had a bad boyfriend. And even if one woman had a boyfriend who raped and murdered her, it’s hard to believe each one of these dead women had a separate rapist for a boyfriend. I didn’t think so. All indicators pointed to serial killers.
I realized that the Anne Kelley case wasn’t an island unto itself. But it was the only knot I was picking on, trying to loosen up a lead, make a bit of progress, and it was driving me nuts.
Why don’t you get some more knots?
I asked myself.
That advice was brilliant. Without knowing it, it was precisely what I needed to hear. Many victims of crime find that if they can put their knowledge to use and help someone, maybe the unfortunate event that fate brought them wasn’t all for naught. That’s when I first got the inkling that while I may never solve the Kelley case,there are plenty of unsolved murders out there. Who committed those?
I printed out what pictures I could find of female victims of unsolved homicides in my county, and I rented a booth at an outdoor festival. I laminated all the pictures and hung them up in a big circle around the table. Under each, I wrote, “Unsolved.”
People would walk up and their mouths would fall open.
“These are all unsolved in Prince Georges County?”
“Yes,” I’d say.
“You mean nobody was ever caught?”
They’d recognize a picture of Lisa Young, because their daughter had known her at school or because they were in town when the crime occurred.
“Didn’t the police ever catch Lisa Young’s murderer?”
I’d just shake my head.
Then they would point to another photo.
“They never caught that killer either?”
“Oh, my God,” I heard over and over again. “I thought these murders were solved.”
The pictures I selected represented just fifteen unsolved cases, less than 10 percent of female victims of homicide in my area over the last two decades. I realized that I should have been trying to get ten guys off the street, not just one. And the problem wasn’t that one police
Similar Books
