Chapter 19: Is the murderer Eisenhower?
Seeing Theodore shake his head, Bernie drove with one hand while fumbling for his notebook with the other. He flipped it open, grabbed a pen, and quickly sketched a crude little figure. "Does this really work?" he asked, glancing over at Theodore.
Theodore looked at the drawing and couldn't help but tease, "If that doesn't work, I've heard of other methods of cursing."
Bernie studied his handiwork again, then carefully wrote Cahill's name and birthday on the figure. Remembering Theodore's ability to 'communicate with ghosts,' he hesitated before asking, "Are you a descendant of Voodoo priests?"
"What?" Theodore hadn't expected Bernie to take it seriously. He quickly crumpled the little figure into a ball and tossed it aside. "This is all from books. Read enough of them, and nothing seems strange anymore."
Bernie turned to study him, half-believing, half-doubtful.
...
Their investigation proved anything but smooth.
Selling testosterone wasn't exactly a legal business. Theodore and Bernie had to repeatedly assure suspicious drug dealers that they weren't there to investigate illegal sales before getting even a chance at obtaining useful descriptions. The dealers' watchful eyes followed their every move.
The delay cost them precious time.
The pharmacies were even more absurd.
The people buying Trojan condoms came in all varieties; some weren't even human, according to the registration logs.
Four historical figures topped the customer list: George Washington, General Eisenhower, John Adams, and Abraham Lincoln, all frequent purchasers. Martians, slime monsters, Donald Duck, and Mickey Mouse had also proven loyal to the Trojan brand. Even God and his angels had apparently left purchase records.
Despite requiring registration for Trojan purchases, the pharmacies never bothered to verify the information.
After spending two hours visiting only two gyms and eight pharmacies, Theodore called a halt.
"It's too slow," he said.
By the time they finished their investigation and tracked down the killer, the bastard would probably have murdered every blonde prostitute on Rose Street.
Bernie, however, was accustomed to this kind of methodical work. Before meeting Theodore, all their cases had been solved this way, slowly, painstakingly.
Too slow? If it's too slow, don't do it? Cases would never get solved with that attitude.
Still, considering Theodore's 'prediction' that the killer would strike again tonight, they'd never catch him continuing at this pace.
After a moment's hesitation, Bernie said quietly, "Time to show off those Voodoo skills."
Theodore chuckled. He couldn't tell if Bernie was trying to lighten the mood or if he was actually serious.
When Theodore made no move, Bernie started toward the third gym, but Theodore stopped him.
Bernie thought Theodore was giving up and opened his mouth to argue, but Theodore shook his head.
"Gyms are centralized places for selling testosterone, but they're not the only source. Even if we finish investigating every gym, there's still the black market. This stuff is like drugs, you can never investigate it completely."
The words sounded like surrender.
Bernie's tone turned gentle, almost like he was coaxing a child. "If we give up now, he might kill more people in the future. If we keep investigating, he might succeed tonight, but not necessarily tomorrow. We can always catch him eventually!"
Theodore didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He hadn't expected Bernie to be so good at pep talks and motivational speeches. "I'm not thinking about giving up. We still have a chance to stop him before he acts tonight."
He paused. "What I mean is, we should abandon the testosterone lead and focus solely on the Trojan condoms."
He explained his reasoning: "Those drug dealers are too paranoid. It takes forever to gain their trust, and we might not even get useful information. Pharmacies are different. Flash our badges, and we get the list immediately."
Bernie raised the obvious objection. "But you saw what was registered on those lists. We can't exactly go arrest Lincoln or General Eisenhower, can we?"
"Our focus for the next phase is names that appear repeatedly at the same pharmacy around the time of each crime. The pharmacy staff will definitely remember a frequent customer, whether he calls himself Lincoln or General Eisenhower, he's still the person we're looking for."
Remembering Bernie's words at the 600528 crime scene, Theodore smiled. "You should understand this point better than anyone."
Seeing Bernie's puzzled expression, Theodore elaborated: "We think Lincoln and General Eisenhower are pseudonyms, but the killer doesn't. For people using false names, that pseudonym becomes their 'real name' within that specific context."
Something clicked in Bernie's expression. He nodded, then spun around and jumped into the car. "What are we waiting for? Let's move!"
The two drove quickly to the next community. They walked into a small pharmacy, and Bernie approached the counter with his sternest expression, flashing his police badge.
The store clerk startled and reflexively raised both hands.
"Don't be nervous," Bernie said in a low voice. "I need your store's sales registration list for Trojan condoms."
The clerk didn't dare hesitate. He fumbled around, found a notebook, and handed it over, continuing to stand with his hands raised, pressed back against the counter.
Bernie's intimidating expression was simply too much, only slightly less terrifying than Wenner's 'true form as a bully dog.'
Theodore came over to search alongside Bernie. They focused on purchase records from 2-3 days before each crime occurred.
Due to their premium price, Trojan condoms didn't sell in high volumes despite their reputation. This particular pharmacy had no sales within Theodore's circled investigation dates.
Glancing at the empty registration entries, Bernie closed the notebook and slid it back across the counter.
They left quickly and hurried to the next pharmacy.
At the third location, they found a perfect match: 'General Eisenhower' on the list. But when they asked the store clerk about the registered name, Alex, the clerk stammered and couldn't provide a coherent answer.
Under Bernie's persistent interrogation, the clerk finally admitted the truth: Alex was him. He'd been the one making the purchases.
Coming out of that pharmacy, Bernie questioned Theodore's method for the first time.
Theodore said nothing, simply walked toward the fourth pharmacy.
The same pseudonym, within 2-3 days before the crime, at the same pharmacy, this was a deduction based on experience, and experience was the only foundation. That's why he hadn't included these specifics in his profile.
They continued investigating, moving from community to community. As closing time approached, they found another 'General Eisenhower.'
This time, the registered name actually was 'General Eisenhower', and it wasn't the store clerk.
This particular General was clearly a regular. The clerk immediately recognized the description and eagerly shared what he knew about their customer.
The General was 43 years old, worked as a bank clerk, and was a regular at the community gym. Despite his imposing size and strength, he was notably kind and helpful, a well-known good Samaritan in the neighborhood.
The General maintained a handsome beard and frequently visited the barbershop for grooming. The clerk suspected the General spent far more money on his facial hair than on the hair on his head.
The clerk also mentioned that the General and his wife had a loving relationship but had been childless for many years.
Theodore and Bernie exchanged a meaningful glance. Theodore asked, "Do you know where he lives?"
The clerk walked to the door and pointed out the location of the General's house.
They drove across the street and positioned themselves with a clear view of the yard. As they settled in to observe, a blue Ford sedan, relatively new, pulled up and stopped at the gate. A powerfully built man in a suit and tie stepped out.
The man carried a bag in one hand and retrieved a bouquet of flowers from the car with the other, walking toward the house.
A woman in an apron came running out, accepted the flowers, inhaled their fragrance with obvious delight, then threw her arms around the man for a deep kiss. The man looked pleased with himself and, wrapping both arms around her, lifted her clean off the ground. Still kissing, they made their way into the house.
Bang!
The door slammed shut, rattling the decorations beside it.
Theodore and Bernie both leaned back in their seats simultaneously, then looked at each other.