Inside the Mind of BTK

178 INSIDE THE MIND OF BTK
wrists and ankles, he began to talk to them, asking them to tell him
their names, where the father worked, and what was the best way to
get out of town.
The mother’s name was Julie. Her husband was Joseph. Their children
were Josephine and Joey. Knowing their names made Rader feel
better. They felt more real that way, more vulnerable. For as long as he
could remember, whenever he fantasized about all the terrible things
he yearned to do to his victims, he had known that details like names
were important.
For the children, he employed cotton cord, the type used for
venetian blinds, purchased at a hardware store near his house. The
kids were both crying, but trying their best to act brave. Afterwards,
he tied what was left of the cord around Joseph’s wrists and ankles.
When he finished, he stepped back and stared down over the family
lying beneath him, tied up like farm animals. Nobody was going
anywhere, he thought.
“My ...my hands are going numb,” Julie told him. “Is there any
way you could loosen this just a bit?”
According to his journal entry, Rader apologized, somewhat
embarrassed that he’d resorted to so much force. He peeled off the
tape and asked her to wiggle her fingers a little. In his pocket, he
located another cord and wrapped it around her wrists. Joseph
explained that his ribs hurt because of a car accident he’d just had. He
wondered if there was some way Rader might let him change his position
on the floor. Dennis untied him and let him scoot across the floor
just a bit. He placed a coat beneath Otero, then retied his wrists
together.
“You can tie my feet up to the bedpost,” Joseph suggested. And
that was just what Rader did. He gagged the family with strips he cut
from a pillowcase he found in a closet. The little girl was sobbing now,
tears rolling down her cheeks. Her hair was so long that he had a
tough time tying the gag into place. No matter how he tried, her locks
kept getting tangled up in the strip as he tried to tie it off.
“I’m sorry for pinching your hair,” he wrote that he told the
young girl.
Most people reading Rader’s words might be struck by what
appeared to be an almost gentle, compassionate streak, as if perhaps
he was somehow concerned about the well-being of his victims.
Unfortunately, that would be the wrong assumption. Rader’s tactic
was the same calculated MO used by other violent offenders I’d spo-