The Ghost
THE GHOST
by H. Berkeley Rourke, 2016
Author’s Foreword
The telling of the tale you are about to read is in two distinct parts. Those lines and paragraphs to be seen which are in italics and bold lettering are in the point of view of the rapist/murderer, the beast who is discussed in this book. Of course, he is, as are all the other characters, fictional. But he falls within the category of many who have made headlines at Florida State University, Duke University, Brigham Young University, Stanford University.In recent years, even a high school made news when initiation ceremonies devolved into rape sessions.
The second point of view you will encounter belongs to a new character in my pantheon, Jeanne de Leon. She too is fictional. She represents a collage of women in the law enforcement profession which I met in my prior lifetime of work. Her attitudes and abilities are also a collage of the characters I met in law enforcement. No one person formulates the basis for her character. But if you look closely at her in this book and you work in law enforcement you may just have come across her.
Finally, about the story itself, I have not tried to create a scientifically perfect essay into the world of forensic or police oriented investigation. An investigator may use many more techniques, or even less, than those I discuss in this story. Testing tools or devices such as infrared lamps may or may not be mentioned. But they are tools. It is the mind of the investigator which is the most important asset he or she may have. Most criminals are not attentive to forensic details. It is a good thing for the police they are not. The use of forensic tools requires specialized knowledge and training, and the equipment used by the CSI people on television in the myriad of programs with those initials as part of their title, is not available to most police departments.
One more thing: Every author is beholden to someone, or a group of people, in the preparation of any new manuscript. I am tremendously beholden to Penny Lynne Jacobs. She has been my proof reader, editor, finder of simple errors or identifier of serious mistakes. She has helped me in so many ways I cannot count them all. Mostly she has made my writing better, less dependent on comparative phrasing, more professional. Thanks to Penny this book and a number of others were finished without constant typos or misuse of simple words such as its and it's. So once again thank you so much to Penny Lynne Jacobs.
I would be a complete ingrate if I did not also mention two friends in the writing community of the world, Harry Porter from the UK and Malcolm Archibald from Scotland. Both took the time to look at, or pore through this book as Malcolm did. I am tremendously grateful for their “beta read” and their suggestions. Both are wonderful writers with many published books in their own right.
Finally, rapist/murderers are beasts. Those who end up as serial murderers are not so rare as we all surmise. They live and work their inhumane and bestial acts on people all the time. Often they do so for years. Each of us needs to have a little more sense of the existence of those who are gravitating, either slowly or rapidly, in the direction of being a “beast” as is the rapist/murderer in this book
Content
Prologue
Book 1- No Luck, No Sympathy, Cover Up
The Beginning
Chapter 1- Part 1-The Next Rape, Campus Police
Chapter 1-Part 2- The Administration
Becomes InvolvedChapter 2- The Investigation Begins
Chapter 3- The Disinterment and
Autopsy
Chapter 4- Conversations, The New
Victim is Found
Book II- How Do You Capture A
Rapist, a Murderer
Chapter 5- A New Door Opens
Chapter 6- Resources
Chapter 7- A New Ballgame
Chapter 8- Who Are You
Chapter 9-There You are Mr. Wells
Chapter 10- Hi Mr. Wells
BOOK I
NO LUCK, NO SYMPATHY, COVER UP
Prologue
Musings in Retrospect: what is it which makes a rapist out of a young man? What is it which makes a murderer out of a young man? What is it which makes a multiple murderer who commits heinous crimes against women? Is it a kind of insecurity which is bred from personal characteristics such as his appearance or perhaps his having a bad case of acne as a youth? Is it harsh treatment from his mother, his only source of experience as a child with women, criticisms which sting? Is it sexual molestation, or perhaps physical abuse which is heaped on him? Is it his curiosity about sex which brings instant revulsion from his mother and punishment from his father? Perhaps it is all these things. Perhaps it is more.
The FBI Behavioral Analysis Unit is unable, though it has expertise without parallel, to arrive at a conclusion as to the cause ofa person going so wrong. One serial killer might have been abused significantly as a child, physically or sexually or both, and another not have been abused at all. Some serial killers don’t have any history of problems which can help to create a “profile” used to try and catch them. Some are shy, socially inept as children and teens, others are urbane and seek the spotlight both as children and as adults. Some even use their popularity to create opportunities for the gathering of victims. There is no single profile which fits all serial murderers, unfortunately.
The young man who we chased down was born into privilege, this young beast. His father was a school administrator in public schools when he was just a child and then in universities as he grew older. His family was Catholic, very strictly Catholic. They attended mass without fail every week, and he started catechisms as soon as he could understand. He was confirmed and became a member of the Catholic Church as a young teen. Everything was not well in his home or with the boy, though. His father and mother fought constantly about one thing or another but mostly about sex. His father wanted sex, she did not. She did not want another pregnancy and was determined to follow the teachings of the church as to contraception. Since she knew she was bound to become pregnant sooner or later using the rhythm method she became celibate and enforced her celibacy on her husband. It made for an unhappy household. It made for a household in which sex was not a topic for discussion, except of course in an argument between his parents.
When, as a young teen, he began to be curious about sexuality, and began to masturbate, he was punished or ridiculed by his mother nearly every day about the issue of sex. He was ridiculed by his mother more than once over having his spunk on his shorts when she washed them. He found other ways to clean himself, mostly with toilet tissue that he could flush. It avoided her harridan’s voice and attitude.
He became more shy than ever with girls in his school. He had to hide his erections in school all the time when he thought about one girl or another. He was in a Catholic school, of course, and the rules against personal contact were strictly enforced there. The school’s attitude toward children touching each other, hugging or kissing, limited his experiences with kissing and the normal petting young teens do. Then he developed, when he was fifteen, a bad case of acne. His grotesque countenance, from his point of view, made him extremely unwilling to have contact with the girls outside or inside the school. It further removed him from the one thing he wanted most, to be dating and having a good time with girls.
He was blessed, or not, with a large penis. When he was forced to shower for physical education the other boys, none of whom were endowed to the degree he was, would sometimes gawk at his tool. They would tease him unmercifully about which girls might be able to handle his equipment. He considered his large penis to be abnormal and wished there were some way to cut part of it off. The teasing by his peers did nothing to increase his confidence. His complaints about the topic of his tool to his father drew ire and beatings. He spent many nights without dinner, huddled in his room under the covers, waiting to s
ee if his father would beat him after dinner was completed. As his high school years were coming to an end he had his first sexual experience with a girl. It was not the normal in the back seat of a car kind of experience.
The girl was a bit of a slut according to some of his friends. They said she would pull a “train,” do a number of them, at the same time. Somehow he got to be number two in line. He was nearly at the point of ejaculation just by looking at her vagina. He lasted only a few seconds. He thought it was her fault and wanted to beat the shit out of her for taking away his pleasure. She was grateful he didn’t last too long. It was an understatement to say he went away from the experience no longer a virgin but without much satisfaction deriving from the use of the girl’s body.
After his initial sexual experience, he fancied himself to be something of a ladies’ man. It seemed to him every time he asked a girl out she would say no. He became angry enough with one girl that he pushed her away from him. He wanted to knock her down and do it to her on the spot but knew it was not the time or place to engage in forcible sex. He began to fantasize in his last year of high school about having sex with one or more of the girls in school, including one of the teachers. Mostly his fantasies included violence, forced intercourse, a beating following.
He was not a large boy. His lack of stature and heft made him think about doing forcible sex in a way which would deny the police evidence and identification. He studied about forensics as he finished high school. He was an honors student and as a result of his status had open access to the library at the university in Georgia where his father was the administrator. He planned his first essay into the world of being The Ghost meticulously. It was one of his teachers in his high school. He found a way to sneak into her apartment. He wore a ski mask over his head and made sure he had on a condom before he awakened her with a knife at her throat. Once again he did not last long.Once again he considered violence with her but let the thought go. During the stay of his father in Georgia he almost was caught. His father put him into a counseling program which was supposed to cure any predilections for violence and sex. It didn’t work but only he was aware he was not cured before the family left and moved to Phoenix.It took me a long time to understand all of these things and to deal with them in the context of the acts which this young man committed. Now you are going to be launched into the life of a serial rapist/murderer. Here we go! Jeanne de Leon.
THE BEGINNING, SCALIAN -
he has felt her before...
no, not here, not this one...
but many, many others...
she is just the newest...
he has fooled his father...
he was becoming a ghost...
he can be a ghost here...
she is nearing, she is fearless...
he waits, concealed...
he is still, waits in silence...
she is young, cannot realize...
he is alert, ready to attack...
he waits in the dark...
waits for his "prey"...
he attacks from behind...
a plastic bag over her face...
says, "die" if you make noise...
she undresses as she is told...
he wears a condom...
her hands are tied...
his are covered with gloves ...
he bends her over...
he forcibly enters her...
it hurts her, she moans...
he says shut up or die...
it doesn't last long...
she is thankful...
it was too fast, you cunt...
you caused this, he hits her...
he beats her...
he beats her...
he beats her...
he cannot raise his arms...
she drops, out cold...
he cuts off the twist tie...
I should kill her...
he kicks her a few times...
then he leaves...
As he leaves the campus of the university he dumps the surgical gloves, the shower cap and the condom, as well as the twist ties, leaving them in scattered trash cans. He walks along a path which veers wildly while he moves slowly through the darkened campus area toward his home. It's not his first dance.In fact, it's not even the first campus on which he has committed rapes.
He is known among the administration and among the leaders of the campus police as the "Campus Rapist." He thinks of himself as The Ghost.He has done over twenty women without so much as a clue being found by anyone as to his identity. No one has reported the rapes off the campus. No press has been notified or told what is going on. The administration does not want anything outside its control in this situation.
He laughs to himself as he crawls back in the window he left open. His parents are long asleep. They have to maintain appearances. They retire early. Their habits enable those of his. His first class in the morning is at 9:10 and he knows he must be sharp. He falls asleep thinking of the glowing feeling in the end of his organ. He thinks he could not achieve the same feeling "normally." It would not be the same. He remembers her fear, her rage, her acquiescence knowing he could kill her easily, becomes erect recalling her fear. He fades into the night, finishing another release while filled with dreams of dominance, control, infliction of pain, alternatively smiling, feeling strong, superior, grimacing, almost laughing, as he finishes and as he falls into sleep.
CHAPTER I
Part I
The Next Part of the Rape
The Campus Police
The Scalian University, affiliated with no other schools or colleges near Phoenix, Arizona, is a private institution. It is reputedly a wonderful academic center. Those graduating the courses of study at Scalian seem somehow to almost immediately occupy important positions in business and the law (including positions on the bench). The campus occupies a large land area which is about a two miles’ square. The rape victim and her parents chose it because it is private. It is in the city but not in a high crime area. It is secluded, a place of serenity, or so they thought until the Campus Rapist, also called The Ghost, used her. She lives in a dormitory with another girl of a similar age who is also a freshman.
Her name is Marilyn Cummings. She is a freshman. She is eighteen years old. She is a rape victim and she does not have a clue what to do about it as she awakens, lying in the grass of the campus, her shorts and panties still around her ankles. She finds she can move her hands, pulls up her panties and her shorts. She sits up, looks around the area apprehensively, wondering if the rapist is still there. She sees no one approaching her or hovering near her, no males.
She is, in reality, in shock, and badly injured but does not realize her condition. She picks up the backpack she dropped in the initial moments of the assault. She tries to put it on and finds a tremendous amount of pain all over her body. The pain is intense,especially in her ribs. She struggles, gets the pack on, crawls on her knees to a bench seat nearby and hauls herself to her feet unsteadily.
It is not easy to stand and even more difficult to walk but she manages to start. She is having difficulty breathing. She is so stunned and so disoriented that she is not aware of the direction in which she is heading. She focuses on walking away from the spot where she was raped. She walks, or more aptly, she staggers away, coughing a little, from the scene of the rape.
She hurts badly. She hurts all over. She staggers off and finally realizes the way to her dorm. She is so badly hurt she groans outwardly and inwardly as she walks. She is ashamed. She is ashamed of being so vulnerable and thinking she wasn't. She is ashamed of being violated, being fucked, by a man she did not know and did not want to know. She is ashamed of not being able to do a better job of defending herself. She thinks to herself: ‘what am I going to tell my roommate, what am I going to tell my boyfriend, what am I going to tell my parents?’ She manages to stagger to and into her dorm. Her room is up a set of stairs. She has a hard time climbing the stairs. She bangs off the wall several times.
Her roommate is in bed asleep when Marilyn opens the door and comes in. The dorm house mother was up as Marilyn entered the dorm. The house mother clucked at her in an unfriendly and disapproving way as Marilyn crossed the day room floor and went to the stairway. It seemed odd to Marilyn the house mother would still be "up." The housemother makes a note about Marilyn coming in very late looking like she had been partying somewhere. The housemother mistakes Marilyn's staggering gait for drunkenness and makes a note about drunkenness as well. When Marilyn bounces off the walls of the stairway notes go into the housemother's file concerning her staggering gait once again.
Marilyn's mind is reeling worse than her body but she has enough presence to think to herself, "What the fuck does she know?" Marilyn is much more ashamed than angry but she dislikes the house mother no matter what. Most living in the dorm feel the same. Then, when she finally gets to her room she finds it is nearly seven o' clock in the morning.She is shocked. Apparently, she laid in the grass, naked, out cold, most of the night.
As she begins to undress herself Marilyn's roommate, Sherry Thomas, awakens. Sherry is groggy but as Marilyn takes off her blouse and her shorts and drops them in a heap on the floor, Sherry says to Marilyn "What in the hell happened to you girl? You have bruises everywhere."
Marilyn is crying, trying to hold it together but failing miserably, and as Sherry begins to ask her questions she just falls apart and sinks to her knees on the floor of her dorm room, sobbing, almost wailing, "Oh Sherry, oh God that son-of-a-bitch raped me."
Sherry had already noticed that Marilyn's panties were bloodied, and she began to look Marilyn over, saying "God honey the guy must have beaten you terribly. What happened?"
"He jumped me and put a plastic bag over my head," she managed to sob out."He told me if I struggled or fought him or yelled out he would kill me. Oh, God Sherry I was so scared. He zip tied my hands behind me after he made me pull down my panties and my shorts and he just shoved it in me.He hurt me bad Sherry. It didn't last long but it hurt so bad. And after he finished he said it was all my fault and started hitting and kicking me. I was out cold on the grass for a long time."