Ripper Page 17
“I apologize for lying in the beginning.”
Lee next asked Mailhot to sign a consent form allowing the police to search his vehicle and his apartment with the understanding that any incriminating evidence could be used against him in court. Mailhot read the consent form aloud and then signed it.
Chapter 13
With the housekeeping chores out of the way, Lee again asked Mailhot if he had killed any other women, which he hadn’t yet mentioned.
“No, no, there’s no more that passed away. I mean, like, I said a couple of them I thought I recognized that I thought I may have taken home, but to be honest with you, I can’t be sure,” he said. “The only ones I recognized for sure were those three.”
Lee asked him if he wanted to look at the pictures of the other women again. Lee wanted to know about the women who were able to get away from Mailhot after he choked them.
“I’ll look through it again. I know I picked her up,” he said, pointing to the photo of another woman. “I can’t be sure when I picked her up.”
“Let the record show that he picked out Maria Feliciano, twenty-five,” Lee said. “Do you remember anything specific about Maria?”
“No. I mean, she just looks like somebody that I may have picked up.”
“Okay.”
“Do you remember about the one we talked about earlier—about the girl being naked on the floor when she woke up?”
“Yes.”
“Does that ring a bell?”
“No,” Mailhot said.
“No?” Lee asked, confused because Mailhot just said he did remember.
“No. The only thing I remember about that girl is she was about my height—maybe about an inch or so shorter than me and she was pretty heavyset,” Mailhot said. “That’s the only thing I remember right now about her.”
“Do you remember having a violent struggle with a black girl, not necessarily with Ms. Harris, but that other black girl you ended up in the bedroom with?”
Mailhot said he remembered having a violent struggle with the heavyset black girl.
“I don’t remember exactly when that happened, to be honest with you. It [happened] in the bedroom,” he said. “She got away from me after I wouldn’t let her go. She was begging me to let her go.”
“What did she say?” Lee asked. “Do you remember what she was saying for you to let her go?”
“I think she called me ‘master’ at one point. ‘Please, Master, please let me go, don’t hurt me,’ something like that.”
“Did she try anything more personal to try to persuade you not to choke her?”
“I think she offered to give me my money back and stuff.”
“She mentioned that she had kids?”
“She might have.”
“Do you remember her leaving anything at the house?”
“She may have left earrings or something like that.”
“Do you have any idea when this happened?”
“I think it was probably last year sometime. Probably around, like, October, November.”
“Where did you pick her up?”
“I think it was Arnold Street. If it wasn’t Arnold, it was, like, right around that area.”
“You don’t remember her leaving any clothing behind—any other personal items?”
“Actually, I think she left a jacket behind that I tossed in the garbage. Yeah, she did leave a jacket behind.”
“Any other items?”
“Not that I can remember.”
“Okay. And that altercation took place in the kitchen?”
Mailhot explained that it took place in his bedroom.
“We were on the bed, she broke free. She managed to struggle free and she was standing in the bedroom. She’s like, ‘Please, let me go. Please, please, Master, please,’ and I let her go.”
“Do you remember someone coming to your house the next day to retrieve items with the boyfriend, uh, pimp?”
“No.”
“Do you recall asking her if she was with anybody or was anybody outside?”
“I might have asked her.”
“What would be that purpose?”
“Just to see if she was waiting for anybody, because I think that I remember that she said she had to go because she was in a hurry to go somewhere, and I think I said something like, ‘Why do you have somebody coming here or coming to pick you up?’ or ‘Are you in a big rush?’ or something along those lines.”
“Did she have anything to eat or drink at your house?”
“Um, she may have had a beer. She may have opened a beer. I don’t remember for sure.”
“Would you describe her again?” Lee asked.
“She was, you know, black and she was pretty heavyset.”
“Facial features, eyes, anything stick out a little bit?”
“Um, no.”
“Do you remember her name?”
“No.”
“Where’d you pick her up again?”
“Either Arnold Street or, like, right in the surrounding area.”
“Any of these girls ever fight you back and cut you or anything like that?”
“Maybe they left a couple scratch marks or something.”
Mailhot said one of the women gouged his eyes to get away from him. When that happened, he let her go.
“So bad injury?”
“No.”
“Did you have to seek medical attention for that?”
“No. When she tried to stab me to get her finger in there, I let her go.”
“Okay. Do you remember another girl passing out, and when she came to, you let her go?”
“Hmm.”
“What makes you decide whether they’re going to live or not?”
“I honestly don’t know. It’s just a random thing.”
“Did she turn around and run out of the apartment?”
“No, I think when she was leaving, I think, I was walking her out and I got behind her and I started choking her.”
“But what happened? Was that the first time you choked her?”
“Yeah.”
“But you let her go without further incident?”
“Yes, I let her go, and she was out on the floor for about probably a minute or two, and then she came to, got up and just left.”
“Do you remember what time that was?” Lee asked.
“What time of night?”
“What time of year?”
“Oh, I can’t be sure on that.”
“Any other altercations that stick out with girls—any violent struggles?”
“No. Uh, there was one other one that struggled and got away.”
“You weren’t thinking about sending her away, especially when she’s going to call the police?”
“At that point I kind of freaked out. I just wanted her to go. I was just doing whatever I could just to get her to leave at that point.”
“What are you thinking when you’re driving around and you’re going to pick up prostitutes? Are you thinking of the sex aspect of it, or are you thinking more of the choking? Does that come into play when you’re out there?” Lee asked.
“I’m just, you know, thinking about having sex and maybe getting a blow job.”
“I mean, what were you thinking when you were picking up Stacie, the last one? I mean, you already killed two girls—what’s in your mind? I’m just trying to understand—to see what’s going on, that’s all. Does it come into play sometimes?”
“I think so, yeah.”
“Is it a rush?” Lee asked.
“It can be, yeah.”
“When’s the biggest rush—what part of it?” Lee asked.
“I would say the actual getting them into my place.”
“Yeah, the lure. Once they’re in the door and the door shuts,” Lee said. “Every one of them occurred in your apartment, the choking?”
“Yeah.”
“Have you ever choked anyone outside of that apartment?”
“No.”
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“Maybe you could say it like that…. Maybe it’s because I know that building. There’s no one else in that building with me, so it’s like privacy.”
“How come?”
“There was an old lady that used to live in the apartment next to me and she passed away after the first three years I was there,” Mailhot explained. “Then after that, my landlord didn’t rent out the top-row floors at all.”
“How’d she die?”
“Heart attack or something. She was, like, eighty-something, I think. I think she was my landlord’s aunt.”
Lee wanted to know if Mailhot had ever thought about moving to a new place after he murdered Audrey, Christine and Stacie. He admitted he thought about it, because he figured if he left the apartment, maybe things would change.
“I don’t want to be the kind of person that does this kind of thing,” Mailhot said, adding the only reason he stayed was because the rent was only $310 a month.
“But like you say, it was actually the rush—once you actually get them in the door. Do you think of your apartment in any certain way, or the house—how it’s empty like that, almost like a dungeon or whatever?”
“No. I just think that if something were to happen in there, you know, there’s nobody in the house—so, most likely, nobody would hear or see anything.”
“Yeah. And you don’t have people that visit you that often?”
“Not at nighttime, not usually,” Mailhot said. “Nobody usually comes unexpectedly.”
“What about your windows? Like I noticed in the past few days, your windows are really open.”
“Yeah.”
“When you’re bringing someone in, do you make it a point when they’re there to shut your windows or anything for the sound?” Lee asked.
“No. I never really planned on bringing somebody in—it’s never like a really big plan.”
“Is that why the choke? Sound?”
“No, really. It’s just the way of doing it, I guess.”
“Tell me about the choke,” Lee said. “Any rush come with it?”
“No, I guess what I was looking for was to end their life.”
“How come?”
“To be honest with you, I really don’t know. I mean, I’m no friggin’ psychologist,” Mailhot said. “I don’t know, maybe it’s something to do with taking these bad feelings out on somebody else and maybe … that will make me feel better. But it doesn’t and I still did it anyway.”
“You don’t know where those bad feelings come from?”
“I think it’s nowhere specific—it’s nothing that happened to me as a kid or anything.”
“Nothing traumatic in your childhood.”
“Nope.”
Mailhot said the only traumatic thing that ever happened to him was when his parents died of cancer. He said he was depressed after that, but he didn’t think that was where the bad feelings came from.
“I know there are good people in the world, but I just feel the way things are going in the world and just all the things you see—I know it’s stupid for me to say this, but all the killings and all the drugs. I mean, the world is just somewhere I don’t want to be anymore. I really don’t,” Mailhot said. “And I’m pretty much living out my life right now. I’m not going to do anything special with my life. I’m not really special. I’d like to have a million dollars and do all kinds of things, but I’m not motivated enough to make it happen, you know what I mean? And I know I’m not doing any real good and I’m not really a family guy. I mean, I love my family, but I really don’t enjoy going to visit family members and stuff like that for the most part.
“It’s like over the last seven or eight years, these feelings have grown stronger and stronger. I kind of like to isolate myself in my apartment and just watch TV and I won’t answer my phone when people call me. I just don’t want to have anything to do with anybody, you know what I mean?”
Lee then asked Mailhot if he had any other family. Mailhot told him about his aunt Lucille, who lived in nearby Pawtucket.
“She’s the most wonderful woman,” he said. “She’s the nicest, kindest woman, and there’s no reason on earth that she deserves a nephew that she loves so much who doesn’t contact her whatsoever. I mean, it probably breaks her friggin’ heart, you know. But, yet, I don’t call her anyway.”
“Did you stop calling her after the first murder?” Lee asked.
“No.”
“Did that have anything to do with it?”
“No, I mean, in the end it had a little something to do with it, but it’s not the real reason,” Mailhot said. “I’ve felt this way. I’ve been isolating myself more even, you know, before this started to happen.”
“Who do you feel bad for, the actual girls that are dead or the families?” Lee asked.
“Probably the families,” he said. “Because, I mean, the way I looked at it—I mean, I know their families love them and everything like that, but the lifestyle they had—I mean, they were just going down the toilet anyway,” Mailhot explained. “I mean, they weren’t doing any good. I mean, they weren’t doing themselves any good. They’re just, you know, into that world of drugs and prostitution. In a sick way I was thinking maybe I was doing them a favor.”
“Yeah,” Lee said.
“Because they’re killing themselves anyway, you know. That’s actually the way I looked at it, kind of—they’re just out there spreading diseases and stuff like that.”
“Is that something you were worried about?”
“To be honest with you, no,” Mailhot said.
“Does that make you mad?”
“I mean, a little, but it’s not the main thing.”
“Did you ever catch any [disease]?”
“No. I mean, the last time I was tested was when I had a physical for the job I’m at now.”
“Did you have an AIDS test?”
“No.”
“So you weren’t worried about being with these girls?”
“I mean, they check for that when they do a blood test on you, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah, they gave me a blood test at work.”
“Is it something you were worried about?” Lee asked.
“To be honest with you, no.”
“So, not really much feelings toward them.”
“No, I mean, I feel bad for it, but like I said, I think they’re better off in a way.”
“What made you talk to us about it?”
Mailhot said he just wanted to get everything off his chest and be totally honest. He said he wanted to do what was right for the families—to give them closure.
“I don’t want to hide anymore. I don’t want to have this shit inside me anymore,” he said. “I really just want to be done with everything. I want to do what I have to do to help the situation in any way I can, and then I want that to be my last act, you know what I mean. I want to do what’s right for those families. I know it’s not going to bring their family member back, but like you said, do as much good for them as [I] can because of the bad I’ve done.”
“That’s very important,” Lee said.
“I’m not expecting any forgiveness or anything from them,” Mailhot said. “I’ll do what I can to help you guys do what you need to do to help them get closure.”
As Mailhot continued to look through the book of photographs of other prostitutes, he recognized a name.
“Do you know if she has a sister or relative named Jessica, because I recognize the last name?”
“As a prostitute?”
“No, I went to school with her.”
“Hmm, I don’t know for sure,” Lee said. “Let me check into that for you, though.”
“You don’t have to. I was just curious if you knew off the top of your head.”
“Yeah. Did you go out with her or something?”
“No, she was just a girl I knew from school.”
“Do you think you told me enough specifics about the other girls that
were choked and that were able to escape?” Lee asked after a long pause.
“Yeah. I pretty much told you everything I remember. I told you about the girl that said she phoned the police from her cell phone,” Mailhot responded. “I choked her and she passed out on the kitchen floor. She got up a couple of minutes later and she took off, and then the one, the black girl in the bedroom, that struggled and got away and I didn’t mean to let her go. That’s the only ones I can remember that [got away], and then the one that gouged my eyes.”
“What did she look like?”
“She was tall and thin and had kind of shoulder-length brown hair.”
“Where did you pick her up?”
“She was walking down Arnold Street.”
“Have you ever heard about the missing girls?” Lee asked, referring to some other area women who were missing.
“I’ve never heard.”
“On the news or anything like that?”
“No, no.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Positive. I mean, I swear if I did, I would help you out. I mean, there’s no reason for me to hold anything else back right now,” Mailhot said. “I mean, I’m confessing to three murders right here.”
“Okay.”
“If there was a fourth or a fifth—”
“But you’ve got to understand there’s other unsolved ones out there and you know—”
“And I know I’m a suspect,” Mailhot said, finishing Lee’s sentence. “I know no matter what I say, nobody’s ever going to know for sure until somebody actually gets caught or confesses to it or whatever.”
“Yeah,” Lee said, agreeing with Mailhot.
“But I take full responsibility for [those] right there,” he said, pointing to the photos of Audrey, Christine and Stacie. “That’s what I’ve done. Those are the murders that I’ve done. I’ve never murdered anybody else.”
Lee and Nowak next asked Mailhot if he had ever murdered any woman from outside Woonsocket.
“Have you been anywhere else?” Nowak asked.
“Have I been anywhere else?” Mailhot repeated, not quite sure what Nowak was getting at.
“Have there been any other girls anywhere outside of Woonsocket?” Nowak asked.
“No, no.”
“Have you ever been to Massachusetts?” Lee asked.
“I’ve been to Massachusetts, yes.”