STRANGLER  - Corey Mitchell's book on serial killer Tony Shore

Here is an unedited version of the Prologue from, Coerey Mitchell's book,  Strangler, about

Houston musical prodigyturned serial killer Anthony Allen Shore (pictured right). Strangler

was released in 2007.  Enjoy. It does get a bit grim, however.

STRANGLER
by Corey Mitchell

***
KPRC Channel 2 Newsroom
July 14, 1995 - Noon
Houston, Texas

“There’s a serial killer out there.”

The male voice on the other end of the Bat Phone spoke calmly. Twenty-three-year-old Barbara Magana, morning Assignment Editor for NBC television news affiliate KPRC, listened to her end of the telephone with only half an ear. Her job was to monitor the police scanner and answer phone calls for any possible stories and then assign them to reporters to air on the evening news at 6:00 p.m.

While many of her co-workers left for lunch, Magana had answered the Bat Phone, which was used as an emergency tip line. Everyone who called the tip line claimed his or her call was urgent. Usually, they weren’t. Most of the time they were simply reporting an automobile accident or a purse snatching, all too common occurrences in the fourth-largest city in the United States.

The Bat Phone also received its fair share of whack jobs.

At first, Magana only partially listened to the caller. Another nutcase she assumed. “How do you know?” she responded.

“I’m going to tell you where you can find a body,”  the man replied rather nonchalantly.

“Tell me where I can find the body,” Magana requested in an almost sarcastic tone. She was not convinced.

The caller, however, did not hesitate. He began to describe a location just north of Houston, near the George H.W. Bush International Airport, named after the 41st President of the United States and pseudo-Texas citizen.

Magana patiently wrote down the directions but did not understand where one of the streets was located.

“Richey Road in Pasadena?” Magana inquired.

The man had been referring to the Richey Road off of Interstate 45 in north Houston. The caller was getting tired of Magana’s inability to take dictation and let his frustration be known. “No, listen to me. I’m going to tell you exactly where it is.” He was adamant that she do everything perfectly.

After the man snapped at Magana, her demeanor visibly changed. This was not some fruitcake after all she realized. This guy was the real deal. She was on the phone with someone who knew where a murdered corpse lay.

The man proceeded to give Magana a precise description of the location of the body. “Take I-45 until you hit the Richey Road exit. Turn right and head up until you come upon Northview Park Drive and turn left. Go all the way to the end of Northview Park where you will come to a dead end sign. You will find the body lying in some tall grass. Some tall weeds.”

Magana instinctively reached for her Houston Key Map guide to find the location. She used one on her job all the time.

As if by some unknown force the caller informed her, “Don’t go for your Key Map. You won’t find it. It’s a brand new subdivision. It’s not on a Key Map yet.”

Magana was completely freaked out. How did this caller know she was reaching for her Key Map? Is he watching me? She started to feel the rush of adrenaline that surges through your body brought on by anxiety, fear, and excitement. She wondered if the caller was more than just a witness.

“You can use your chopper to find her. She’s lying face up and your chopper should be able to spot her rather easily,” the caller referred to the Channel 2 News helicopter which is often used for live coverage.

Magana’s journalistic instincts kicked in. She was determined to not let this man get off the telephone. “What can you tell me about the victim?”

The man did not hesitate and began to describe the victim. “Her name is Ruby. She was born on May 11th. She is wearing several gold rings on her fingers. She is fifteen years old.”

Magana wrote furiously as the man recited the information. She sensed that he was wrapping up the conversation so she decided to ply him with one more question.

“Am I talking to the killer?”

There was only silence punctuated by short drawn breaths on the other end of the phone.

“Am I talking to the killer?” Magana asked again.

Again, a breath. And then a small laugh. The phone went dead.

Magana hung up the Bat Phone and glanced up at the newsroom clock. 12:37 p.m. She had spoken to the supposed killer for thirty-seven minutes. She logged the call in the company book and then kicked it into high gear. She started by looking up the address of the alleged body dump. In her mind, Magana kept thinking of nearby Pasadena, but she eliminated that thought from her head and focused on north Houston. She knew she needed to call the authorities, however, she was not certain of the jurisdiction where the body lain. She had to determine if she needed to call the Houston Police Department (HPD) or the Harris County Sheriff’s Office. She was able to pinpoint the location as just outside of the city limits. Magana picked up a different phone and notified the Sheriff’s Department of a tip about a possible murder victim.

*****