Murder and Mayhem in Cedar Falls. Walter Wittmuss

police station was a two-story structure. I had heard someone mention that the jail cells were on the second floor with the first floor devoted to offices, interrogation rooms, and the booking area. There was plenty of activity, but no chaos among the half dozen officers in the room. The room was well lighted without being harsh. A fairly large bulletin board was partly filled with wanted posters. The rest of the board was devoted to fliers of missing people.

      “Can I help you, sir?” an officer behind a counter asked.

      “Yes. I’m John Brennon. The sheriff wanted me to come in and give a statement about last night.”

      “The sheriff has been expecting you. Go on into his office.”

      Denise and I went through a swinging gate and headed for a door that had “Sheriff” stenciled on it. I knocked and was told to enter. We entered an orderly office that was furnished with a desk and two chairs.

      “I was wondering if you were going to make it in today, Professor, considering the time of day it’s getting to be.”

      “I apologize, Sheriff. It’s been a busy day.”

      “I understand. Give your statement into this recorder, and then someone will type it up for you to sign—after you read it over for accuracy, of course.”

      I gave my statement, and an officer came in and took the recorder out into the other room to transcribe my statement.

      “I have something to show you, Sheriff,” I said, taking the button out of my pocket and laying it down on the desk in front of the sheriff. “I found this under the bushes where the girl was attacked last night. We stopped at the hospital and showed it to the girl. She didn’t recognize it. I figure it must have come from the attacker.”

      “Professor, buttons like this are a dime a dozen. I don’t see where this is going to help at all. What were you doing at the crime scene this morning?” he asked somewhat belligerently.

      “I live three houses down the street, remember? I went for a walk this morning. The owner of the property where it happened happen to be out in the yard, so I stopped to talk with him. While I was there, I took a quick look around and found this under the bushes.”

      “I appreciate your interest and bringing in what you thought was a piece of evidence, but remember, this is a police matter, not something for an amateur to be meddling in.”

      “And if I should happen to come across some information or other evidence, shall I just let it lay?” I asked angrily.

      “No, of course not. All I’m saying is that this person has killed once, twice, counting the dog, already. The last thing I need is to have an innocent person’s death on my conscience. Just let the police do its job. We will get the person responsible. That is a promise.”

      Just then, an officer brought in a typed copy of my statement. I carefully read the statement to make sure of its accuracy, then signed it. I handed it to the sheriff.

      “Okay, Sheriff. I have to be going now. I hope you do catch the guy soon.”

      Denise and I got up and left the police station.

      “I meant to ask if you were able to get a drawing done of that button we just left in there?” I asked Denise.

      “Sure did.”

      “Good. I would still like you to do a little exploring on the web if you have time and don’t mind.”

      “No problem, John. By the way, the garage called and said they would have my car done by tomorrow afternoon. Would you be able to take me down to the garage around three o’clock?”

      “I’ll be happy to. I’m going to miss our morning and afternoon conversations, though.”

      “We’ll still see each other around campus. Plus, you are always welcome at my house. In other words, don’t make a stranger of yourself. Okay?”

      “Yes, ma’am,” I said with a big smile.

      The next morning, I picked Denise up as usual.

      “Good morning, John. I surfed the web last night. I think I found what we are looking for. But you are not going to believe this. I have a little trouble believing it myself.”

      “Tell me, Denise,” I implored. “Don’t keep me in suspense.”

      “Okay, here it goes. You know I told you I thought I had seen that design on the web before? Well, I had. To begin with, you know what Satanism is, don’t you?”

      “Yes. It’s the worship of Satan.”

      “Right. Well, I wasn’t aware of how it has spread across the country like it has. You know how motorcycle gangs, like the Hell’s Angels, has chapters in different parts of the country, right? Well, this group of Satanists has covens all over the country. The really interesting part of this whole deal, at least to me, is that they use that button, or whatever it is, for one form of identification between the members of the different covens.”

      “This doesn’t make much sense to me, Denise. Why would they put all that information on the internet? To my way of thinking, they would want to keep their activities secret.”

      “I agree with you, John, but there are a lot of things on the internet a person wouldn’t believe would be on it. For instance, child pornography is against the law, and people are arrested all the time for it, but it’s relatively easy to find on the web. What I think is that someone put the information on the web in the hopes of drawing in new members. The top people may not even know it’s on the web yet, or if they do, they might have decided to leave it on and see what happens.”

      “I’m not that computer literate, but I would imagine this information could be taken off the web as quickly and easily as it was put on.”

      “Yes, but the damage would have already been done as far as people seeing it who wouldn’t have wanted to see it.”

      “So what do we do now? How do we uncover the local coven, if there is one, without putting ourselves in serious danger?”

      “I don’t know, John. All I can say is, we’ll have to keep our eyes and ears open. Maybe we can each give it some thought during the day today,” she said as she got out of the car.