BTK and me

Well, that’s a misnomer — there’s no personal connection between Dennis Rader and myself, though I did have the horrendous sense of deja vu when I stumbled across the cached version of his daughter’s blog, as I’m fairly certain I’ve read it sporadically before. But that’s not a real connection, nor should it be.

But as should be obvious over this weekend and from earlier writings, the case has held a deep fascination for me. I’d already contracted the true crime junkie bug in high school, collecting a vast array of cases, especially unsolved ones. But though answers to those seemed elusive, nothing would frustrate me and put my analytical skills into high gear like discovering the case history of BTK.

It was my first year of college or thereabouts, and I went through a

phase of reading books by profilers like Robert Ressler and [John

Douglas]4. Now I look back on those books with a mixture of cyncism and

amusement, as it’s all too apparent to me now that they took more

credit for certain investigations than was necessary. Profiling is a

tool, but one that must be used with extreme caution. But to my

eighteen-year-old self, their stories were almost a revelation, and the

yarns that Douglas, especially, nagged at me with an all-too-familiar

question: why?

I believe he first mentioned the BTK case in MANHUNTER, his first (and

still his best selling) book, but he went into considerable detail with

a fictionalized account opening his third book, OBSESSION (written with

Mark Olshaker, who has since been dumped at Douglas’s ghostwriter and

sidekick.) The chapter, entitled “Motivation X” was written from the

vantage point of the BTK character, describing why he committed the

Otero murders, then those of Bright, Vian and Fox. There were the

letters, of course, with more detail revealed than law enforcement had

made public because some aspects were slightly altered.

Now, maybe it was the way the chapter was written, or maybe it was the facts themselves — the letters, the total ego on display, the fact that he hadn’t been caught almost 30 years later –but it hooked me, absolutely. At that time, there was frustratingly little information about the case; the Internet wasn’t nearly as popular, and BTK seemed to be more of a “regional” case. The writeup at Crime Library and a few now-dead sites were all that was available.

But I never forgot, mostly because it always seemed eminently solvable. Semen left at the Otero crime scene, which may or may not be the basis for the DNA testing conducted to facilitate Rader’s arrest. Blood and other forensic evidence. Handwriting samples. The 911 voice recording. And other, less forensic-heavy connections, like the fact that the Oteros and Kathryn Bright worked at the Coleman plant. Using a poem taught by P.J. Wyatt at Wichita State University as the basis for a poem sent in to law enforcement in the 1970s.

And of course, the 25 year silence. What happened?

Obviously, the answer is twofold: one the one hand, he led an upstanding life with a family, his church, his little fiefdom of power. And on the other, he kept killing anyway. Though it remains to be seen what the final tally will end up being, there are ten homicide charges awaiting, and based on this list, several more that can be speculated about.

So when, for reasons still yet to be determined, BTK resurfaced with a flurry of correspondence last year, what was once dormant flared up. I lurked on message boards, refreshing at an alarming rate, trying to fill in any knowledge gaps, catching up on what I did know. I didn’t really think it would amount to anything, but one never knows. The months passed, and my interest returned to baseline levels. But again, I wouldn’t forget.

Why, though? Why did it get to me?

It wasn’t only the fact that it seemed like the Wichita PD were way in over their head and couldn’t make sense of the information they had available. It wasn’t only that BTK seemed like a serial killer as intelligent as Lecter or his knockoffs, but that he was, in his own way, unique. Governed by ego, but smart enough to hide in plain sight. To blend in amongst the community almost fully, slough off whatever dislike others had of him. Never mind that he didn’t follow the usual trend of preying on the weak, killing prostitutes because they were “disposable.” He sauntered into victim’s homes and made them hostages in their own surroundings. He barely raped but sexual sadism were still a hallmark of almost each kill.

Or maybe it’s as simple as the fact that BTK is as close to evil as I hope to ever be exposed to. Here’s a man who could be anyone’s neighbor, anyone’s colleague. A husband, a father, active in religious communities. He was the perfect chameleon, using his inherent sociopathy in leadership and authority roles. On many levels, I understand his behavior perfectly. Inadequacy, power and control, dominance and rigidity — all can add up to produce a killer like him if mixed with sociopathy, early incidents and specific triggers.

But mostly, I do not, and never will. I read, critique and write crime fiction, and no matter how many of us try to understand the nature of evil, here comes a case like this to mess with our heads once again. Because it’s ordinary, banal. And yet extraordinary nonetheless.

Still, one thing gives me hope: the four major cases I once could recite chapter and verse about, that influenced me in different ways, were BTK, the Zodiac Killer, the Unabomber and the Green River killer. All had seemingly insurmountable odds in their favor, that they would never be caught.

3 out of 4 now have been. It’s Zodiac’s turn now. Or Texarkana. And let’s throw in some unsolved unidentifieds, like the Boy in the Box, Princess Doe and Cali. And countless missing persons, new or long-term, victims of known or unknown killers whose fates remain in limbo.

It may take a long time, but order does sometimes win out over chaos. And that is, I suppose, one of my main driving forces, no matter what guise I take at any particular moment.