Chapter 6

Police Officer Lucy Jergens was frustrated and angry. Angry, as a woman, that this serial rapist had not been identified and captured; frustrated as a police officer because the only clues of these crimes were the ever increasing number of DNA vials stored securely in the hospital evidence room. Twenty eight girls, all between thirteen and sixteen, all virgins, all from northern states, all on vacation with their parents and (she believed significantly) not travelling with a large group or student organization. All of the attacks had occurred on Thursday evenings, at the same time as the parents were attending the beach party. Officer Jergens decided that this problem needed to be addressed more fully. She sought and received permission to do some telephone research with the victims to try to obtain more commonality. Lucy was thrilled.

She immediately began writing a list of questions to ask each victim. She had studied proper investigative techniques in her criminal justice course and she knew that she must ask each victim the same questions, the same way, for the data to be valid. She began by asking them for a day by day breakdown of their activities between arrival and assault. She began with the most recent victims, because their memories would be freshest, but the only commonalities that she learned were that they all became sunburned the first day and took it easy the next two. Beyond that, they did not all eat in the same restaurants, they didn't visit the same touristy sites, and they didn't even all use the same house rental agency.

The only certainty was that they had each attended the Thursday party with their parents and had each left early while their mom and dad stayed and partied. She actually considered suggesting that they escort each single girl home from the party, but the numbers of officers required for such a detail simply did not exist on the payroll. They were maddening, the dead ends that she encountered, but she swore that she would not give up on this creep. Perhaps she simply did not ask the correct questions or probe sufficiently hard. If she had pushed them for more activities she would have discovered that twenty five of the twenty eight had purchased a new swimsuit, all from the same store. The other three, who denied such purchases, were actually the cause for the lack of study clarity. The sad part, for Officer Jergens anyway, is that the historical existence of these three rogue assaults did a superb job of skewing the data for the rest. Lucy was back to square one without a hint or a clue. Had they asked Jeremy, he would have said that they were simply "targets of opportunity", girls that he had never seen until that very moment.

As valid as these concerns were to Lucy Jergens and her fellow officers, they were virtually unknown to the local press, the tourist bureau and most importantly, to any tourists. It is certain that had either Mrs. Marilyn Forster or her equally snooty daughter Kerstin known anything at all about those concerns, that knowledge would have completely sealed off the possibility of them visiting this area on a vacation.

Marilyn, whose family was among the elite of Westport, Connecticut, had spent her summers in the south of France for as long as she could remember. After marriage, this tradition had continued, even after the birth of their daughter, until this summer when her husband, and the father of their daughter, announced that the collapse of the financial markets precluded their annual trek to France. This year they would have to be content with a few weeks on the beaches of South Carolina and Virginia. (To be fair, there is a significant difference between spending the summer in Provence and spending a week each in the Carolinas and Virginia.)

But to hear the Marilyn and Kerstin describe it, one would conclude that this should be considered as torture. Kerstin, especially, was quite vocal and outspoken about having to spend a week among hillbillies and other ignorant lower class workers. She much preferred to spend her free time amongst the more highly cultured people, those that recognized the true beauty of refined humanity.

"Isn't there a private beach that we can use, Mother?"

"No, dear. I'm sorry. I did research it and the travel agent assured me that there were no private beaches, and no way to restrict anyone from being on any section of the beach."

"But Mother, these people are so low class. They are so below us. Look at them! They look unclean. I don't even want to swim in the same ocean with them."

Kerstin Forster was not remotely concerned about who else may have heard her conversation with her mother. Discretion, to Kerstin, only pertained to dealings with her own kind, not to these people. And, sadly, there were more than a handful of "these people" that did hear those words. There was just enough pride among that group that Kerstin was quickly identified as being "one of those snooty rich broads" which qualified her to become very popular. So popular, in fact, that whenever she appeared in public, on the beach, in a shop, or wherever, numerous (depending upon the size and surroundings) lower class people crowded around her, some so close that they invaded her "personal space". These people were always polite, never touched her, or even spoke to her, although many spoke about her, how pretty she was, how wealthy her parents must be, how unfortunate it was that none of her high class friends could be here with her. It became a game to them. This high class bitch thought that they were scum, so why not get up close and show her that she is mistaken about that? It only took three days before Kerstin Forster would not leave the rental house that her family occupied.

"I'm not going out of this house. I am not going to the beach. I am staying here until we leave. Those people are vile, filthy and scary. They get up close to me and touch my arm and constantly talk to me. I can't go anywhere without being surrounded."

And "those people" were delighted with her decision. It did crimp the style and activities of her parents, however. They had made their "connections" at the local country club and arranged several days of golfing, dinner and social niceties, assuming that their daughter would become involved with other vacationers on the beach and that she would ultimately demand "not to be torn away" from those activities. Her father, losing patience with his prima donna daughter told both women that he would not allow this to disrupt his vacation. His daughter was certainly old enough to fend for herself during the day and early evening while they went to the club and played golf, etc. He said it in such a way that it was quite clear that he was not expecting further discussion on the matter.