The Night Killer

said.
    “We felt that Atlanta would be an ideal hunting ground for her,” said Frank. “Close enough for easy access, but far enough away from home that she could still remain anonymous. No one would know her personally. So it was a good bet.”
    Ben nodded. “If you do your thinking ahead of time, you don’t waste time,” he said in a way that Diane figured he’d said it many times before.
    “We also acquired a mug shot of Theodore Albert Massey, his legal name.” Ben smiled for the first time. “Frank and I were relieved to discover that his mother didn’t name him Slick.”
    Diane smiled too, and took a sip of wine. “What was he in the system for?” she asked.
    “Petty theft, mostly. A few bar fights,” said Ben. “No felonies.”
    Though Ben had put his notebook in front of him, he never referred to it, or even glanced down at it.
    “We didn’t find anyone at the shelters who recognized Slick,” he said.
    “I don’t think he could be as convincing as Tammy at luring ill, elderly women to come live with him,” added Frank. “But the staff at several shelters did recognize Tammy. Not immediately. They had to study the photo before it dawned on them. She changed her appearance a lot . . . and her name—Terry Tate, Theresa Thomas, Tracy Tanner, to name a few. I guess she always wanted to match the monogram on her luggage.”
    “We thought we struck gold just by confirming that Atlanta was her hunting ground,” said Ben. “Then we interviewed Norma Fuller, the latest woman Tammy had lured to her house. Now, that was real gold.”
    “Did Norma have a lot to say?” asked Diane.
    “ A lot would be an understatement,” said Ben. “I don’t think Frank or I could’ve made her shut up. The shelter took her to the hospital when she was returned to them, and that’s where we interviewed her. After you and Deputy Conrad paid Tammy and Slick a visit, they decided that things were too hot, and they took their current ‘charity case’ back where they had found her. You probably saved Mrs. Fuller’s life.”
    Ben stopped and poured more coffee in his cup and added sugar and cream. He took a sip before he continued.
    “Interesting taste,” he said.
    Diane couldn’t tell if that meant he liked Frank’s blend or not. He set his cup down and began Norma Fuller’s narrative. He turned a page in his notebook but still didn’t look at the pages.
    “Mrs. Fuller had to leave her apartment because she was six months behind on her rent. She couldn’t afford medicine, food, utilities, and rent too . . . and she had to have her medicine . . . so she let her rent slide, until she was evicted. The community clinic where she went for checkups and her prescriptions referred her to a shelter. That’s where she met Tammy. The shelter uses volunteers to teach hygiene, nutrition, budgeting, and the like. They call them ‘life skills.’
    “Because Tammy was a nurse’s aide and had a résumé to prove it, the head of the shelter welcomed her. She said Tracy—Tammy’s pseudonym—was good with their guests and spent a lot of time talking with them and making them feel comfortable.”
    Ben looked up and smiled at Diane.
    “I’ll bet she did take a lot of time sweet-talking them—and finding out if they had any retirement income,” he said.
    “And how sick they were,” said Frank. “Tammy had access to all the client records in the places she volunteered.”
    “That’s incredible, and scary,” said Diane.
    Ben grunted. “You don’t say? It was her own private shopping mall.”
    He went on to tell Diane how Tammy offered Norma Fuller a room in her home—actually Slick’s house—for nominal rent of fifty dollars a month. She told Mrs. Fuller she could help her get back in good health again. All she needed was the right kind of care and to be in a situation where she could save her money.
    “Mrs. Fuller told us that the room was nice enough. It had freshly painted walls, a bed with a pretty bedspread, a chair, even a small TV set—that didn’t get any reception, but did have a DVD player. The room had a small attached half bath with a sink and toilet. Mrs. Fuller had asked about a shower and, get this, Tammy told her she could get just as clean taking sponge baths, and she could do it herself and be more independent. Tammy told her that the thing the shelters didn’t tell people was that if the shelter found she couldn’t live independently, they would put her in a state- run nursing