I Would Find a Girl Walking by Diana Montané, Kathy Kelly Read Free Book Online Page B

Criminal Apprehension Program). Ressler also wrote the book Whoever Fights Monsters: My Twenty Years Tracking Serial Killers for the FBI . Ressler titled his book Whoever Fights Monsters after a quote from German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche: “Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you.”
    “Sure, I know that one right there,” Stano said, gesturing toward the picture of Mary Carol with an outstretched finger. “I picked her up once.”
    “You picked her up?” Crow said quizzically. “You mean you gave her a ride?”
    “Yeah, that’s right; she wanted a ride,” Stano replied.
    Puzzling a moment, he pinpointed the date, January 27. “She was over on Atlantic Avenue, walking, real real late,” he emphasized, as if trying to cast a shadow over Mary Carol’s habits. Crow was steaming with rage inside but made sure his facial expression relayed no emotion.
    “And where did you take her?” the officer asked offhandedly, not making eye contact with Stano.
    “Well, I drove across the bridge, the Seabreeze Bridge, and then out Mason Avenue,” Stano replied without hesitation.
    “Did you stop anywhere?” asked Gadberry.
    “Yeah, I wanted to stop at Fannie Farkle’s, but she didn’t want to,” said the cook, referring to a popular nightspot.
    “Well, where did you go?” Crow was pressing on slowly.
    “We went to Pantry Pride on Mason and we got a six-pack of beer. Yeah, that’s right, she wanted a beer.” Stano paused long enough to cross his leg over his knee.
    “And where did you go from there?” Crow continued.
    “I let her out; she wanted to get out,” Stano said.
    “That’s not really true, is it.” Crow was now purposely rhetorical. “She didn’t really get out, did she? You two had some kind of argument, didn’t you? Did she make you mad?”
    “Yeah, I guess so,” Stano answered, leaning back up on the desk with his elbows.
    “What happened? Did you want to, say, have sex with her and she didn’t?” Crow asked quietly, also an attempt at ingratiating himself with Stano, making it seem they shared a common bond.
    “Yeah, she started bitchin’, bitchin’ real bad,” said Stano.
    “So, what did you do? Did you hit her?” Crow asked casually.
    “Yeah, I popped her,” Stano answered offhandedly.
    “Hard?” asked Crow.
    “Yeah, real hard, like this.” Stano balled up his fist and swung it for emphasis.
    “Were you still riding along in the car?” It was now Gadberry’s turn.
    “Yeah, we must have been out Mason a ways by then.” Stano looked straight at Gadberry.
    “Then what?” said Crow. “Did you hit her again?”
    “God damn, she made me mad,” said Stano, his face starting to flush a bit. “Who did she think she was, better than me?”
    “Then what did you do?” Crow continued.
    “I reached under the seat of my car and got out my knife; then I let her have it,” said Stano.
    “What do you mean, ‘let her have it’?” Crow was now prepared to escalate the interrogation.
    “I hit her, hard. We were driving along and I hit her in the chest; then she fell over on the seat so I hit her again, this time in the back.”
    “Was she saying anything?” asked Crow.
    “Yeah,” said Stano. “She was mumbling something, gurgling a little.”
    “Did she try to get out of the car?” Crow asked.
    “Yeah, but I wouldn’t let her,” Stano replied.
    “No? How did you stop her?” Crow sensed he was getting close. “Now, Jerry you got a little carried away didn’t you? You know, Jerry, she was a strong gal, she could be a real bitch when she wanted to be,” the officer said, appearing to sympathize with the suspect.
    Stano showed his anger. “You’re damn right! I got my knife and stabbed her in the thigh, and then I hit that bitch in the chest.”
    Crow was still building his rhythm. He wanted to know about the slash in the