Deadly Charm: The Story of a Deaf Serial Killer

32. In Memoriam

32 In Memoriam For his mourners will be outcast men and outcasts always mourn. Inscription on Oscar Wilde’s tombstone That shabby corner of God’s allotment where He lets the nettles grow, and where all . . . suicides and others of the . . . damned are laid. Thomas Hardy, Tess of the D’Urbervilles At Randi Lawrence’s funeral, a police escort accompanied her remains, and hundreds of mourners swarmed into Immanuel United Methodist Church in Brandywine, Maryland , to share their grief, shock, and bewilderment at her untimely passing. There, surrounded by masses of flowers and the people who loved her, Randi was laid to rest. After the service, all went away in disbelief that this caring, gentle woman’s life had been taken so violently. No grieving family appeared to mourn Patrick’s passing. His body lay at Baltimore City Morgue with no one to claim it. Police contacted Patrick’s sister, Jeanne, in Boise, Idaho. Jeanne was stunned but not entirely surprised to hear that her brother had taken his own life and that of the woman with whom he was romantically involved. Jeanne reported that she had spoken to Patrick on Thanksgiving Day, November 22, eight days 235 236 McCay Vernon and Marie Vernon before the murder-suicide. She said he seemed in good spirits at that time and made no mention of Randi, nor had he ever discussed his relationship with her. Asked what should be done with Patrick’s remains, she said she wanted them to be disposed of as quietly and privately as possible. Despite the turmoil he had brought into so many lives, even after his death there were those who remembered Patrick and grieved for his unrealized potential. Brent Toleman, who had made a noble effort to provide Patrick with a stable home, recalled the warm affectionate side of Patrick’s nature and his lust for life. Others, such as Patrick’s friend, schoolmate, and prison mate William Hartman, recalled him in a more negative light: “I just wish he did not went home and stay here. Prison the best for him really. He don’t belong out in real life. I am just heart sad for that little child [Randi’s son],” Hartman said. Another fellow prisoner, James Packard, felt guilty that he had been unable to convince others of Patrick’s proclivity for violence. “I knew this was going to happen,” Packard said. “I told the guards he was going to kill someone and they just shrugged their shoulders. But what could they do, after all?” It was from the prisoners that the Reverend Peggy Johnson learned of Patrick’s death. The deaf people in her congregation were also aware of what had happened. “They shook their heads over the murder and told me to stop letting ex-convicts come to the church,” Johnson recalls. “But it was a little late for that.” Several months after Patrick’s death, a secretary from the construction company where Patrick had worked called the Reverend Johnson. The woman had previously phoned Johnson on Patrick’s behalf to inquire about the times services were held at the deaf church. The secretary said she had kept the number in her file and asked if the minister would hold a memorial service for Patrick. “The guys at the shop are really Deadly Charm 237 upset over his death,” the woman told her. “Could you maybe do something for us?” Johnson wondered what on earth she could say, given the circumstances of Patrick’s death. Still, she felt she could not ignore the request, and they arranged a date and time when she would perform the service at the construction company’s combination workshop/garage. Johnson then called the Reverend Kirk Van Gilder, Gallaudet University’s chaplain, who also knew Patrick, having visited him in prison. Together they drove to the little construction office in Annapolis. Fearing that the surroundings would be rather bleak, Johnson brought along some vanilla-scented Dollar Store candles and a bouquet of white mums. The two ministers arrived at the workshop on a chilly early spring evening and found the temperature even colder inside the concrete block building where the service was to be held.. There was no casket and no body at the service, just the flowers and candles that Johnson had brought. The carpenters, still in work clothes, straggled one by one into the service, most without speaking. When Johnson realized...