Poughkeepsie Tapes Killer Novels & Stories

Author: Danielle McNeill Officers Ned Pullman and Wes Steyer are called to the home of the famous Dr. Edgar Freyman; a specialist in child behavior and Psychology. Dr. Freyman is attacked by one of his patients. The officers are left with a baffling case of whodunit. They get their answer in the form of an antique tape recorder used by Dr. Freyman to record himself and his sessions with his patients. The tapes reveal some hard truths about Dr. Freyman but also reveal the terrifying and bizarre truth of his assailant. A truth that the police don’t want to believe nor are they prepared for.

Unknown POV "Another inhuman incident occurred on May 24, 2021, between 12:30 and 2:30 A.M. The victim, identified as Mr. Andrew Wilkins, 24, a landscape architect, was brutally murdered in cold blood in a desolate location by puncturing his chest and shoving away his heart by an unknown repulsive suspect. According to the police department, this has been the 17th reported murder from the same culprit ever since these mysterious killings has started 6 months ago.."

Both the Sheriff and the agent understood that Agent Jones almost caught the real culprit. Among the victims, whose photographs were pinned on the board, most of them were students. Only a few victims were middle-aged or old. There was no connection between any of the victims. The only connection to each victim was a handsome young rich man named Stephen Tepes. Almost every victim knew him in a certain way. He was a friend to all of them. In addition to this, he had spent a considerable time helping them in some way a day before they died. This made him the only suspect in this case. The Sheriff's eyes fell on Cathy and Julia's photographs.

“Yeah, kind of a funny story. Turned up out of the blue and asked if we had any recordings. We’d upgraded our equipment and had thrown the old tapes and machines in storage in the basement. I told him if he could figure out a way to watch them, he’d be welcome to them. I’ll be damned if he didn’t come back in half an hour with a video tape recorder, a soldering iron, and a shopping bag from the Radio Shack. Went down to check on him a couple hours later and he was in there making dubs to VHS. Worked up a really clever rig to do it, too.” I nodded along as I paid the check. “Well, Steve, it’s been a pleasure,” I said, making for the door and into the lot. “Oh, say, uh, Detective. While I’ve g

"You should thank me later, Yvanna. We haven't gotten the justice you deserve. But you better be careful about keeping your secret. No one must know that you already remember everything. That would be a huge advantage for us." "I know. Don't worry about it, I haven't told anyone. Not even Norman." Thirty minutes later, Tanner and I found ourselves stunned and dumbfounded upon seeing police tapes hanging all over the place. "Excuse me, my name is Tanner Pery. I am an attorney. I was the one who called the cops to come over for my ongoing case. What's going on here?" Tanner asked, his voice laced with curiosity and concern as we looked all over. The officer's expression changed all of a sudden

I gave them a stern nod and they left him alone with me. I gestured towards the couch opposite me, telling him to take a seat. He took a seat on the couch I had pointed to, his eyes revealing nothing. In silence, he placed a file, neatly bound and marked confidential, along with a USB drive, on the sleek glass coffee table that separated us. "This is all I could find, Mr. Capone," the investigator began, his voice low and professional. He leaned forward, his eyes fixed on mine, "There are no records of Claire Parker before the age of eighteen. Whoever had wiped her records clean was good."

Isabella said, her eyes burning, “someone who loved your father like a brother and has been waiting thirteen years for you to be somewhere safe enough to hear the truth.” Victor closed his eyes briefly and Isabella kept reading because stopping felt impossible now. “It says,” she continued, “I cannot tell you everything yet.” Victor’s jaw clenched. “And it says,” Isabella whispered, her breath catching, “but I need you to know that the tape your father left exists and Kevin Zacchaeous will kill everyone in that house to get it and you do not know yet that you have been carrying it your whole life.”

The news I heard shocked me. “Around 6:40pm this evening, the police identified the culprit for the murder of Albert Connor-Mckinney and Mary Adele White. The culprit is a middle aged man: Smith Connor the uncle of the diseased agent. The sheriff: Morgan was fatally shot…he died later in the hospital…Chris the accomplice…receiving treatment at Winster county hospital… hard drugs and guns were among the things confiscated at the scene… June Hall reporting.” I knew this instant that I would never escape this, my life may be lost in the process. My fear now is not the detective with a scowl but Smith. I know he would not let me be.

Just then, the door to the interrogation room flung open and Clemente came striding into the room with a file in his hand. He slammed the file on the table in front of the owner and snapped, “Look what we just found! Are you still going to deny what you did?” With a trembling hand, the owner turned the cover and opened the file. The first page listed his online shopping records for the past 6 months: duck tapes, ropes, sleeping pills, and detergent… Everything a serial killer needed for the work. And the second page was a photo captured by a surveillance camera. It documented a car accident that happened on the same night that Keavy died.

The police seemed determined not to believe his account. Second, when the postmortem revealed Claire’s syphilis and she was also suffering from malnutrition, the police had dragged him in again as though they’d been right all along. Pugh seemed to relish in his discomfort and repeated most of the same questions about his and Claire’s relationship. Even to Alex, his answers made him appear slippery and self-serving. Never dropping his look of disbelief, Pugh had then cut to the chase. “And do you have syphilis, sir? Were you the one to give it to her?”