Inside the Mind of BTK

66 INSIDE THE MIND OF BTK
glued to. Next, he pulled the shades down over the two front windows.
The front room instantly went dark.
The kids were confused, not quite sure what to make of this
strange man who barged into their home as though he lived there.
When he noticed the children staring at him, he pulled a pistol out of
the shoulder holster hidden beneath his jacket and pointed it at them.
“Where’s your mother?” he demanded.
“She’s in there,” the siblings shouted in unison.
But by then, Shirley had heard all the commotion going on in the
front room. She had been lying in bed in her room, but managed to
drag herself out into the front room when she heard the stranger’s
voice.
“What the hell are you doing?” she demanded. “Who the hell are
you?”
The man walked over toward her, brandishing his pistol. “Shut
up,” he snapped, pointing toward the bedroom. “And get in there.”
The telephone rang before she could move. Steve stared at it, but
the intruder said, “Leave it alone.”
Next, he glanced around the house and ordered Shirley to gather
up a blanket and some toys, then instructed her to spread everything
out on the bathroom floor. After hustling the kids inside, he pulled
some rope out of his pocket and went to work looping it around the
doorknob, then tying it to a drainpipe beneath the sink. He exited
through the other door and soon could be heard sliding a bed against
it, effectively sealing the kids inside. A defiant Steve threatened to untie
the rope, but the man quickly made him reconsider.
“You better not or I’ll blow your fucking head off,” he shouted.
Shirley pleaded with her headstrong son to do as the man said.
From inside the bathroom, the children heard the sound of adhesive
tape being torn from a roll. Steve pushed open the door with the
bed shoved up against it and peeked out. The image he saw was of his
mother, lying face down on the bed, naked. Her hands had been taped
behind her back, a rope tied around her neck, and a plastic bag pulled
over her head.
The children had no idea how long they were stuck in that bathroom,
but reported that it felt like an eternity. Then the telephone
began ringing again, and Bud somehow managed to climb up on the
sink and break out a tiny bathroom window with his fists. Blood
quickly began streaming out from the cuts in his hand, as he screamed
for help through the window. Stephanie joined him. By this point,