Inside the Mind of BTK

304 INSIDE THE MIND OF BTK
times she’d claimed to have done that). Or she could keep going and
attempt to somehow finish this book that had made her life even more
unbearable than it already was. What did she really have to lose?
“I want to thank you for the essay you wrote,” I told him. “Kris
gave it to me last night. Very interesting. But I’ve got something to ask
you. Beside that question about whether or not your mother was overbearing,
you wrote the number one-half.”
“I can’t tell you any more about that,” he replied. “That’s for Kris’s
book. I’m saving that for her. Are you going to help her get that published?
She said you were.”
“Yes,” I assured him. “I’m going to try to help her. But I can’t
promise anything. Publishing is a tough business.”
Rader’s gaze dropped to the floor. A scowl crept across his face.
Silence. Casarona was correct: Rader looked depressed. His flat,
monotone voice and his lifeless eyes were giveaways. Whatever rush
he experienced by coming clean to the cops and from the media circus
that ensued had begun to fade. The depression he’d grappled with
for most of his life had no doubt returned, and now he had no way to
hide from it.
I realized now that Rader hated himself with a passion. He always
had. He may not have acted like it or revealed his self-contempt to
another person, but deep down he loathed every molecule in his body.
And because of that he was psychologically unable to love others or
be loved. I’m confident that over time, he grew fond of Paula and his
two kids, but the emotion he experienced when he was around them
or thought of them had nothing to do with love. At best, it was a feeling
of intense familiarity.
Rader was talking again, but the sound had gone screwy. I heard
crackling coming out from my speaker, but I decided to keep talking
until Rader indicated that he could no longer hear me.
“Something else I wanted to ask you,” I told him. “I had this theory
about why you started to cry over the Nancy Fox murder during
your sentencing hearing. None of your other kills seemed to affect
you, but that one did. You want to hear what I think?”
“Go ahead,” he said. “Tell me.”
“I’ve heard of this sort of thing happening from other guys I’ve
spoken with,” I told him. “Something happened during that murder.
You always said Nancy Fox was your perfect victim, but after I watched
you wipe away those tears, I figured it was because she said something