Corktown Read Online Free PDF Page B

“What else is in the file?”
    “No previous arrests until he was caught robbing the bank.”
    “You’re kidding me, right?” How did he get so good at being a bad guy without slipping up? “This guy terrorizes the city for five years, and it’s not until he robs a bank that they catch him. That make any sense to you?”
    Wilkinson threw his hands up. “Why on earth would a serial killer suddenly want to rob a bank? It’s not like the skills transfer over.”
    I listened as he continued to read out loud. “In a nutshell, he tried to rob the main branch of the Comerica Bank. Things went wrong. The police showed up. He took hostages and ended up killing fourteen people by either shooting them or cutting them before SWAT stormed the bank. He was found guilty of those murders, attempted robbery, and a slew of other stuff. Looks like that’s how they put him away. Sounds like amateur hour if you ask me.”
    “What about the other murders?” I asked.
    Wilkinson continued. “Well, it says he confessed to them.”
    I picked up a file on one of the victims. “This one says, “Closed. Case solved.” I grabbed another. “Hmm, says the same thing here too.” It appeared as though Garrison did indeed confess to all the murders.
    “Sounds like the dream case,” Wilkinson said. “Talk about caving in.”
    My gut didn’t agree with what we had discovered. The guy they arrested for robbing the bank and killing the hostages turned out to be the serial killer they’ve hunted for five years. Talk about miracles.
    Wilkinson looked at his watch and stood up. “You want the same thing?”
    I looked at my watch; it was noon. “I’m sorry. I like chili dogs as much as the next guy, but I can’t eat another one of those things. It’s making me constipated.”
    Wilkinson pulled his face back. I knew he hated it when I talked about bodily functions. He somehow had it in his head that there were only two things that ever came out of a woman’s body: babies and pee.

 
     
    11
     
     
    We took a two-block walk to the Coney Island restaurant where Wilkinson had been buying the chili dogs. Turns out they sold salads, too. Wish I knew . There were a couple of open booths, so we parked our butts in one.
    “What are you thinking so far?” Wilkinson asked.
    I scrunched my lips together before answering. “It’s like they took whatever they had and stitched the case closed.”
    “You saying the stitching’s crooked?”
    “That’s what I’m saying.”
    “He did confess. Whether it was coerced, who knows? Does it matter if corners were cut on his case?”
    “Good question,” I said with a head tilt. “The case against Garrison may not have been airtight, but everyone around here bought into it. He’s in jail.”
    Wilkinson nodded at me. Just then, the waitress arrived and took our order. I waited until she was out of earshot before speaking again. “Let’s come at this a different way. All of the previous victims died from excessive bleeding, but not all of them were cut the same way. Some only had incisions to the carotid artery while others included the femoral artery as well.”
    “You thinking there’s a reason for that?”
    “Well, they bleed faster.” I sat back in the booth and flipped through a couple of case files I had brought along. “Hmm, just as I had suspected.”
    “What?”
    “Based on the sampling I have here, the victims that sustained three cuts were found in secluded areas, like a house or an alley. The victims that were found in public spaces had fewer cuts.”
    “So Garrison didn’t always have time.”
    “The more public the venue, the faster he had to be.”
    “One cut, two cuts at the most.”
    I nodded as I took a sip of my ice tea. “He needed to know exactly where to hit them. An incision elsewhere wouldn’t kill the person. Might even end up being a superficial wound.”
    “And that’s where the medical training comes into play.”
    “Exactly. Garrison had to be skilled.