“It happened a few days after we had a run-in. My daughter and son-in-law had parked their RV out on the street. He didn’t like that it blocked the curbside view of his house from a certain angle. I guess he figured people on this street had nothing better to do than admire his home. I told him I wasn’t about to have them move it. It was fine where it was. They were leaving to go home in another week.”
“He didn’t like that response?”
“You would’ve thought I’d done something really terrible. His face turned red and he stomped out of here. But that was it—until two days later. We left the dogs in the backyard while we went out for the day. We were showing the kids around, hoping they’d consider moving closer to us, you know, but they like it where they are. Anyway, when we returned, we let Bonnie and Clyde into the house and about an hour later, Bonnie started shaking and heaving. I couldn’t figure out what was wrong with her, but I knew it was serious. So my wife and I rushed her over to the vet clinic, where she died later that night.” Furrows formed between his eyebrows—evidence that losing his pet had been painful for him. “The vet eventually concluded that someone had fed her a piece of poisoned meat.”
“Someone?”
“Oliver Burke. It had to be him. I didn’t have another enemy in the whole neighborhood. Still don’t.”
“You don’t have proof that it was him, do you?”
“No, but the neighbors on this side over here—” he pointed to the left “—can verify he was at home that day, which wasn’t all that common. He was usually at his dental office.”
“Nothing happened to Clyde?”
“He got sick, too, but Bonnie got the worst of it. That’s Clyde in there.” Markum tapped the door and the dog barked again.
“I’m sorry to hear about Bonnie. It must’ve been horrible.”
“It was. I called the police, but they said there wasn’t enough proof to do anything about it. They suggested I file a civil suit, that I might have a better chance of winning. But it was a bust. Burke put on such a good act, the judge fell for it.”
“Yeah, he’s good at playing the martyr.”
“No kidding. It was pretty damn frustrating. I told the detective who came by here just after they charged him with attacking you, too, hoping it might help establish a history of violence, but…”
“He probably told you the same thing.”
“He did. Without proof, it didn’t mean much.”
“Did you approach Oliver about what happened before you went to court?”
“I did. I told him he must not have a heart if he could hurt such an innocent creature.”
“How did he respond?”
“Shocked. Dismayed. Pretended it wasn’t him. But I could tell that deep down he was happy about the misery he’d caused me.”
That reminded Skye of how Burke had behaved when she’d accused him of attacking her.
“He’s a convincing liar, I have to hand him that,” Markum added.
“When was the last time you saw Oliver?”
“I don’t know…. A few days before they arrested him, I guess. I wanted to attend some of the trial, but my wife teaches music in Italy once a year, and we were in Europe. I was glad when I heard the outcome, though. It was as if Bonnie got a little justice that day, too.”
“Have you ever met Oliver’s brother?”
“A few times. Every once in a while, Noah and his wife would visit next door. They were pleasant enough. Especially Wendy, Noah’s wife. Why?”
“Just curious about his family situation. How did Oliver treat his daughter?”
“Hard to tell. She wasn’t much more than a toddler then and he worked a lot. We saw her with Jane more often than with him.”
“Did he ever come and go late at night?” Skye knew David would’ve asked every neighbor this question already, back when he was building a case against Burke, back when he’d probably heard about the dog. But she wanted to hear Mr. Markum’s answer for herself.
“Not by car. I would’ve noticed. And the computer at the gatehouse keeps track of every time the gate’s opened.”
“So you think he left on foot?”
“Or bicycle. He fancied himself quite a cyclist. Used to shave his legs and all that. I never did understand why. I can’t imagine it’d really help with wind shear, but he took it quite seriously. Rode to work almost every day.”
“Even in the winter?”
“Even in the winter. Used a battery-powered nightlight that was nearly as powerful as a car’s headlights.”
Skye remembered David saying Burke had spent a lot of time on the bike trail. They didn’t know how he’d stalked her, or how he’d gotten into her house, but during the trial the district attorney had suggested he used a bike. A bike provided a quiet mode of transportation, freedom of movement and an excuse to be gone for long periods of time—alone. The other attacks had happened near the bike trail, too.
“Did you like his wife?”
“She wasn’t the nicest person in the world. Sort of pretentious, if you ask me. But she was sure singing a different tune once Oliver went to prison. Then I had to feel sorry for her, especially when she lost the house. She didn’t get much for his practice after all that bad publicity.”
Skye knew he’d feel even worse for Jane Burke if he saw where she was living now. “I’m convinced Oliver is responsible for murdering three other women, women he met before he attacked me.”
He whistled. “Is that why you’re here?”
“Partly. If you remember anything else, will you contact me?”
He accepted the card she handed him. “Definitely.”
“Thanks.” She walked three houses down to the Simmons residence, which sat at the top of a small hill. There, she heard a similar story about how a conflict over some trees had provoked Oliver into ruining their front lawn. Like Markum, they had more suspicion than proof, though, and had lost their suit.
On her way to the car, Skye stopped to stare at the house where Oliver and his family had been living when he’d tried to rape her. It looked just as normal as every other house on the block, better than most people’s version of normal. Back then he’d been part of a privileged elite and had lived behind a gate by choice.
On a sudden impulse, Skye approached the house. A van sat in the front drive, and there were toys scattered all around—a football, a trike, some skates. She wasn’t sure what she was hoping to achieve by introducing herself to the current owners. Chances were that they didn’t even know the Burkes. And yet this home retained a certain mystique for her. Oliver had not only lived here, he’d prided himself on his ability to afford such a lovely place, had allegedly killed his neighbor’s dog over an RV that blocked other people’s view of it.