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The Last Victim_ A True-Life Journey Into the Mind of the Serial Killer - Jason Moss [0]

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COPYRIGHT


THE LAST VICTIM. Copyright © 1999 by Jason Moss and Jeffrey Kottler, Ph.D. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.

Warner Books,

Hachette Book Group

237 Park Avenue

New York, NY 10017

ISBN 978-0-7595-2830-7

A hardcover edition of this book was published in 1999 by Warner Books.

First eBook Edition: April 2001

Visit our website at www.HachetteBookGroup.com.

Contents

Copyright

Prologue by Jeffrey Kottler, Ph.D.

1: The Bookstore

2: True Crime

3: First Target

4: The Plan

5: Research

6: A Question of Motive

7: Perfection and Fear

8: Monsters

9: In Training

10: The Questionnaire

11: Setting Bait

12: Secrets

13: Outside the Boundaries

14: Perversity

15: Fictional Friends

16: What’s Up, Buddy?

17: A Back Door

18: Incest

19: Joining a Family

20: Deeply Disturbed

21: Cannibal

22: Only the Lonely

23: Doubts

24: Night Stalker

25: Weak Stomach

26: Grooming a Killer

27: The Experiment

28: Hook, Line, and Sinker

29: Q & A

30: The Invitation

31: FBI

32: Journey

33: The Attorney

34: Long Walk

35: Face-to-Face

36: Jekyll and Hyde

37: Breakdown

38: Day Two

39: Neighbor Down the Hall

40: Goodbye

41: Going Home

42: Juggling Killers

43: Blackmail

44: Execution

45: Aftermath

Afterword by Jeffrey Kottler, Ph.D

Prologue

by Jeffrey Kottler,

Ph.D.

It was autumn in the desert, but not like the kind of autumn you’d ordinarily envision for that time of year. It was still hot, blazing hot. The only refuge from the sun was inside the refrigerated buildings.

With its stately palm trees and expanses of grass, the campus resembled one of the many resorts on the Las Vegas Strip. The difference was that, instead of neon and slot machines, there was a hotel college that taught would-be entrepreneurs how to operate casinos, as well as the usual academic buildings that catered mostly to local students and a few Southern California refugees. The most prominent structure by far was the Thomas and Mack Building, the basketball arena that played host to the Runnin’ Rebels. This was a university, after all, known primarily for its basketball program.

The best and the brightest of the students, a few hundred ambitious, sometimes compulsive scholars, enrolled in the honors program to get the best shot they could for entrance into medical school, law school, or the corporate fast track. The requirements included several exploratory seminars designed to expand students’ education beyond their narrow areas of specialty.

I had volunteered to teach one of these honors seminars, called “Things That Matter.” I’d billed it as an opportunity for advanced students to explore a series of topics, including relationships, love, friendship, and, most vitally, the future. And on the first day of class, I encountered an ambitious group of young people: future lawyers, doctors, politicians, CEOs, and scientists.

One student caught my attention immediately because of the way he was dressed. While his peers, aged twenty to twenty-five, wore the uniforms of their generation—jeans, T-shirts, sandals, shorts, even a skateboard or two—this particular student looked as if he’d lost his way en route to a job interview. Beyond his crisp white shirt, striped tie, and polished loafers, I noted a resemblance to one of the Baldwin brothers, William maybe or Alec. He displayed the chiseled good looks that immediately attract the attention of the opposite sex. His eyes were serious, intent, and I noticed he was watching me carefully.

As the semester progressed, this young man stood out for a number of other reasons. He was predictably bright and precocious, even by the standards of an honors program. Yet he was also exceedingly confident and poised. In the jargon of my profession, “he appeared older than his stated age.” This was not just because of the way he looked but

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