June 30th, 2019
San Francisco, California, USA
He called it The Bunker – which was actually true and correct. The house was built in late 1960s when the probability of a full-scale nuclear war with the Russkies was almost at its peak. Only slightly lower than several years earlier when the Caribbean Crisis almost put an end to the very existence of human civilization.
Hence it was no surprise that the basement of just about every new house in the San Francisco area (actually, just about everywhere in the USA) was constructed as a military-strength nuclear shelter.
Strangely, he was perfectly sure that the nuclear war with the Russians (or anyone else for that matter) would never happen. So almost immediately after he purchased the house in early 1970, he converted it into a library. Research library, to be more precise.
When the blockbuster mystery thriller “The Ninth Gate” came out in 1999, he was shocked to discover that The Bunker looked a lot like the personal library of Boris Balkan – the key antagonist.
Only the library in the movie resided essentially in the attic – on the top floor of the Balkan skyscraper in New York – and his library was underground. Which would have been far more appropriate to the fictional library in the movie as it was dedicated to one and only one character – The Devil.
His library was also dedicated to one and only one persona. Not the Devil, although quite a few would argue that this person was Devil Incarnate.
The Bunker was dedicated to storing data, information and, ultimately, knowledge (i.e. valuable information) about The Zodiac. Arguably the most notorious serial killer that was never identified – let alone apprehended. After Jack the Ripper, of course.
However, the latter was obviously deceased while most cold case researchers believed (correctly) that The Zodiac was still very much alive. Which made him the most notorious and well-known UNSUB still at large.
He started collecting information about The Zodiac right after the first murder committed by the latter – on Christmas Eve of 1968, almost exactly fifty years ago. And from the very first day made a firm and solemn vow to himself to acquire everything that was printed or said (on audio or video) about this serial killer.
In all major languages. To make it possible, he made languages his second hobby and ultimately acquired the ability to read fluently in Spanish (highly valuable in California anyway), French, German, Italian and even Russian.
The latter turned out to be even more valuable than learning Spanish as after the collapse of the Soviet Union hundreds of nouveau riche Russians came to California to do business – and his fluency in their native language made him a ton of money.
Although he never communicated with any other Zodiac buff (he made sure no one knew about his hobby other than himself), he knew enough about his colleagues (of sorts) to boast that his “Zodiac knowledge base” was the most extensive and well-structured in the entire world of true crime aficionados.
These days space in The Bunker was at a premium and just about everything was available in electronic form so most of his knowledge resided in a custom-made database system. Of course, neither the designers, nor the programmers were informed about the ultimate purpose of the system and he politely declined any upgrades that could have exposed its content.
He even ordered and deployed a surprisingly efficient data mining system. It cost him a small fortune but ultimately allowed him to track just about all online sources of information about The Zodiac. Including the profiles of the killer developed by both professionals and amateurs.
Everyone who has ever dealt with any software product, knows for a fact that there is no such thing as a perfect system. Every software has its flaws and his data mining system was no exception. It missed just one profile developed by an amateur – not even a professional psychologist, but it was more than enough for a genuinely disastrous consequences for the owner of The Bunker.
He looked at the alarm clock – being old school, he preferred a dedicated device to his computer, smartphone and tablet – and signed. Because he really did not want to leave The Bunker.
With every passing year he spent more and more time in his research library. For a very simple reason – it was the only place where he felt alive. Not happy – he honestly had no idea what happiness was. Just alive.
He felt that The Bunker was filled with some supernatural energies; energies that cleansed his soul of poisons injected into him by the outer world. The world which was getting more and more toxic with each passing day. And filled it with something that he could not define. Something… pleasant, albeit in a very strange way.
He also felt that these energies emanated from the supernatural, mystical, magical power; the power that for a totally unknown reason has been protecting him all these years. For half a century – which was very, very impressive.
Still, he had to go. Although for the past decade or so he was semi-retired, he still could not convince himself to retire full time. Possibly because he still believed in what one of his clients (a senior Wells Fargo executive) told him once: “You stop working – you start dying”.
And he definitely did not want to start dying – he made a firm resolution to stay on this Earth for at least a century – hopefully much more. Actually, it was not just hope – he felt that the mystical power that inhabited The Bunker would provide him with energy and other support that he needed to achieve his objective.
So far, it worked pretty well. He just turned eighty but looked at least twenty years younger. He stuck to a very healthy diet, devoted several hours every day to traditional, Tai Chi and yoga exercise, ran a mile every morning and swam another mile in the evening in a very expensive – and very luxurious pool.
He still had girlfriends – some of them were three decades his junior – but almost never took them to his home. For some reason he felt that The Bunker and the power that resided there were incompatible with women. So he never got married and his longest relationship lasted for mere three months.
In twenty minutes he was to meet his next client – another wealthy Russian running away from Putin’s goons. However, it was not to be. When he opened the door of his surprisingly modest house (by San Francisco standards, of course), he got a surprise of a lifetime. Literally.
The surprise was female. Thirtyish, blonde, average height and built, modestly dressed in a grey mass-market conservative suit of the type worn by lowly bank clerks and equally lowly government employees.
It was obvious that she was one of the latter. It became even more obvious when she showed him her ID and introduced herself:
“Special Agent Laura van Hoorn. California Bureau of Investigations. Mr. Robert Leigh Myers a.k.a the Zodiac Killer, you are under arrest for the murders of David Arthur Faraday, Betty Lou Jensen, Darlene Elizabeth Ferrin, Cecelia Ann Shepard and Paul Lee Stine. And for attempted murders of Michael Renault Mageau and Bryan Calvin Hartnell. And for the number of other crimes that will be included into the official list of charges that you will be presented with in due time”
Paused and read him his rights: “You have the right to remain silent and refuse to answer questions. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you can not afford an attorney – which I sincerely doubt – the attorney will be appointed for you free of charge. Do you understand you rights?”
“Yes” – he answered, still visibly shocked. “Yes, I understand my rights”
He sighed, suddenly regained composure and asked. ”I have only one question – how on Earth did you find me?”
From his research, he knew that he left DNA on the envelopes that he foolishly sent to the police fifty years ago. They somehow obtained his DNA from publicly available sources (probably followed him into McDonalds or something or even posed as his prospective clients). But how did they know whom to follow? How did they identify him as a suspect?
“I found you” – said the man who was standing next to and slightly behind Agent van Hoorn. Very early fifties, very wealthy (judging by his fancy summer suit), fit, smart, independent… and totally and completely ruthless. Venture capitalist, investment banker, high-profile lawyer… something like that.
“And you are…”
The man shrugged. “My name is Alex Bekker – with two K. I wrote the profile that got the CBI attention…”
“Shit” – thought the Zodiac. “Either this profile was not made public – or, most likely, my data mining system somehow missed it. Which means…”
The Zodiac sighed and suddenly firmly and resolutely stated: “I will make a full confession. On one condition…”
“I am listening” – replied Agent van Hoorn
“No handcuffs. I am too old to run or fight – and you definitely have a platoon of agents in the neighborhood…”
Laura smiled: “I do” And added: “Deal”
Two very powerfully built CBI agents escorted The Zodiac to the unmarked car. He suddenly turned around, looked straight into the eyes of the amateur profiler and declared:
“You are connected. Not to the Mob, of course – although one never knows…”
Alex said nothing. Which actually told Zodiac a lot. He continued:
“… but to the Higher Power. All these years I was protected by a supernatural force… until you came along with the mightier power…”
Turned around, made a couple of steps and meekly got into the CBI car.
“What was he talking about?” – asked Laura in a visibly worried voice.
Alex shrugged: “I have no idea”.
They got into another CBI car – a large black Ford SUV – and drove off.
TO BE CONTINUED