The Boston Strangler by Frank Gerold;

Author:Frank, Gerold;
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Open Road Media
Published: 2016-05-24T04:00:00+00:00

* Whatever parallels existed here with Arnold Wallace and his mother, Delaney was unaware of. The detailed biographical data of suspects was known only to a few at the very heart of the search.

15

Jim Mellon, hand to forehead, sat reading the Mary Sullivan casebook. Across the table from him, in the large offices of Eminent Domain given over to the investigations, sat Phil DiNatale, as deeply immersed in the Sophie Clark book; to one side, Steve Delaney, lost in the reports, interviews, statements of friends, schoolmates, neighbors, that added up to the tragic story of Beverly Samans.

Each morning when the three men came to work to follow new leads in the ceaseless probing into the life and death of the Strangler’s victims, they pored over the casebooks in an effort to absorb new material, to spot discrepancies in testimony missed at a first, second, or tenth reading, to analyze facts thought unimportant originally but meaningful now in view of succeeding murders.

Jim Mellon devoted himself at this stage to Mary Sullivan, because she had been the most recent, the last of the series of stranglings so far. All that Donovan’s men had learned in the preceding ten investigations stood them in stead here, and they had gone about the business of collecting information as swiftly as possible. Mary Sullivan’s casebook was almost twice as thick as any of the others. Each morning when Jim took it out of the vault, he opened it with a silent plea, “Come on, Mary, let’s go! Tell me more!”

Somewhere within these nearly two thousand pages must lie the answer. Somewhere in these photographs of the apartment at 44A Charles Street, of the building itself, of Mary in life and in death, of her roommates Pat and Pam, in her autopsy report, her employment record, the interviews with everyone who knew her back to her Sunday School classmates in Hyannis (it was incredible how many people one person in one short lifetime could meet, talk with, and confide in!), in the statements by teachers, parents, family physician, and priest, in the letters she wrote and those written to her, in the names in her address book, the telephone numbers jotted down on scraps of paper in her purse, the three sticks of Beechnut spearmint chewing gum, the matchbook from Whitman’s Savings Bank, the parking ticket, the gasoline coupons, the department store receipts—somewhere here must lie the clue to Mary Sullivan’s death. And perhaps to the others.

Was Mary’s death, as Dr. Brussel theorized, the Strangler’s climactic deed? As Dr. Robey put it, the icing on the cake, the most elaborate creation of all?

Four clues had been found. The first was the red ascot Pam Parker had bought as a Christmas present for a friend and hadn’t yet given him that had been found slashed into three parts and flushed down the toilet. It had caught in a bend of the drainpipe, and some days later, been pulled out.

The second was the three Salem cigarette butts found in an ash tray not far from Mary’s body.

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