Chapter 4: Outmatched

A break came when they found the body of a 14-year-old boy, stabbed more than seventy times, genitals removed. Forensic techs finally found something: traces of male bodily fluids inside the body.

That changed everything. Now, they had a blood type—AB. Maybe even DNA, if they got lucky.

They rounded up a youth gang that hung around the crime scene. Could this be a team of killers? Michael’s gut screamed no. He argued with his superiors, voice rising: "It’s not a gang. This is one man—a deeply disturbed one."

But while the department played politics, the killer changed again.

Starting in 1984, the murder rate soared. One victim every two weeks, each death crueler than the last. On the eleventh victim, bodily fluids were found on her clothing—evidence that the killer pleasured himself over the corpse after the act.

By summer’s end, 24 bodies had been found. The police arrested more suspects—each confessed, each was innocent. Michael could see the futility, but the department wouldn’t listen.

Forensic scientists at the FBI lab delivered a game-changer: two samples of bodily fluids at the crime scenes, both AB blood type. None of the suspects matched.

Michael was right all along. But there was no satisfaction in being right—the killer was still out there, and Michael was losing sleep, hope, and faith in the system.

Here’s what the police had to show for years of work: AB blood, two sets of footprints, a gray hair, and scraps of fabric. Not much.

Still, Michael refused to give up. He became obsessed with the tenth victim—the little boy with the bodily fluids inside—because there had been a witness.

Someone had seen the boy leave with a tall man wearing glasses, with hollowed cheeks, stiff knees, and size 13 feet.

The police and psychiatric experts joined forces, but the killer vanished without a trace.

But nobody knew who he was. He seemed to disappear into the air.