The Last Victim_ A True-Life Journey Into the Mind of the Serial Killer - Jason Moss [72]
“Jason,” she concluded, “I’d like to debrief you after your visit and find out what you learned. Would you please call me from your hotel room or when you return home? If you need anything at all, or if something happens, feel free to call the office and we’ll assist you.”
“Thanks,” I replied, genuinely grateful she’d taken me seriously.
“I really don’t think he’s going to give you much. I’ve been talking to him for years. He loves to play mind games. He’ll try to control the conversation the whole time you talk with him.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “I sure know that.”
“Well, obviously if he wants to tell you about any of the murders, or others we’re not yet aware of, I’d like to know about it. He talks and corresponds with a lot of pedophiles, some of whom we’re actively doing investigations on. Any names or lists of these people would be helpful as well.”
“Okay, I’ll try.”
“One more thing,” she said. “He keeps a folder containing information on all his victims. See if you can get a look inside. We think it might include details we don’t have.”
I assured her I’d do my best. She then wished me luck and told me to be careful. “He’s still a very dangerous man,” she warned.
I hung up the phone feeling validated. It finally seemed like the worthiness of what I was doing had been recognized. I realized, of course, that these agents were humoring me to a certain extent. After all, the chances of my learning anything of value were remote. Still, officials of the country’s top law enforcement organization had heard me out—and had even been encouraging. For that I was grateful.
32
Journey
I’d never traveled much and this was to be one of the first out-of-town trips I’d make alone. My destination aside, I was pretty nervous at the thought of flying someplace all by myself.
I was scheduled to leave on a red-eye flight to St. Louis, arriving very early in the morning. Gacy’s lawyer was going to meet me at the airport and then drive me the ninety miles to the prison. The plan was for me to spend three days in the local town, visiting Gacy each day for several hours. It was a lot of time with him, but I figured I’d need several visits to get the information I was looking for. Despite our three-month correspondence and all the phone conversations, I knew it would take a while to win his trust.
I spent the final day at home organizing myself for the trip. It was one of those early spring days when the desert winds were blowing. Dust and sand were everywhere. You couldn’t even breathe the abrasive air without sneezing, so I was forced to stay in most of the afternoon and endure my mother’s fussing.
“Don’t forget your toothbrush,” she nagged. “And it’ll probably be cold in Illinois, so bring your red sweater.”
“Sure, Mom,” I said, exasperated. We’d been through this three times.
“Do you have enough money?”
“Yes, I have plenty.”
“I’ll have Dad give you some more anyway. Do you need your flashlight?”
“My flashlight?” I groaned. “Give me a break. I’m not going on a camp-out. I’m staying at a motel. Gacy set up everything.”
She ignored me. I could tell she was really worried. “Do you have some books to read? Don’t forget to bring gum for the flight.”
Finally, to escape her nagging, and to vent my own nervous energy, I braved the winds and went shopping with my brother.
Walking through the mall, he and I joked about my destination. That I was embarking on this trip during spring break seemed particularly incongruous. Jarrod couldn’t get over my chutzpah. “I think it’s funny watching Mom and Dad try to stop you from doing all the crazy shit you do,” he said. “I love to watch their faces when you ask permission for things. It just cracks me up when you tell them you want to talk to them about something.”
I just smiled. It felt good to have my brother on my side. He seemed to understand how I thought, and he didn’t judge me the way others did. Talking