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The serial killer compen.., p.12
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       The Serial Killer Compendium, p.12

           R. J. Parker
 
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  "I find the newspaper not wirting about the poem on Vain unamusing. A little paragraph would have enough. Iknow it not the media fault. The Police Cheif he keep things quiet, and doesn't let the public know there a psycho running around lose strangling mostly women, there 7 in the ground; who will be next? How many do I have to Kill before I get a name in the paper or some national attention. Do the cop think that all those deaths are not related? Golly -gee, yes the M.O. is different in each, but look a pattern is developing. The victims are tie up-most have been women-phone cut- bring some bondage mater sadist tendencies-no struggle, outside the death spot-no wintness except the Vain's Kids. They were very lucky; a phone call save them. I was go-ng to tape the boys and put plastics bag over there head like I did Joseph, and Shirley. And then hang the girl. God-oh God what a beautiful sexual relief that would been. Josephine,when I hung her really turn me on; her pleading for mercy then the rope took whole, she helpless; staring at me with wide terror fill eyes the rope getting tighter-tighter. You don't understand these things because your not under the influence of factor x). The same thing that made Son of Sam, Jack the Ripper, Havery Glatman, Boston Strangler, Dr. H.H. Holmes Panty Hose Strangler OF Florida, Hillside Strangler, Ted of the West Coast and many more infamous character kill. Which seem s senseless, but we cannot help it. There is no help, no cure, except death or being caught and put away. It a terrible nightmarebut, you see I don't lose any sleep over it. After a thing like Fox I ccome home and go about life like anyone else. And I will be like that until the urge hit me again. It not continuous and I don;t have a lot of time. It take time to set a kill, one mistake and it all over. Since I about blew it on the phone-handwriting is out-letter guide is to long and typewriter can be traced too,.My short poem of death and maybe a drawing;later on real picture and maybe a tape of the sound will come your way. How will you know me. Before a murder or murders you will receive a copy of the initials B.T.K. , you keep that copy the original will show up some day on guess who? "May you not be the unluck one!

  P.S.

  How about some name for me, its time: 7 down and many more to go. I like the following How about you?

  "'THE B.T.K. STRANGLER', WICHITA STRANGLER', 'POETIC STRANGLER', 'THE BOND AGE STRANGLER' OR PSYCHO' THE WICHITA HANGMAN THE WICHITA EXECUTIONER, 'THE GAROTE PHATHOM', 'THE ASPHIXIATER'.

  B.T.K."

  On a separate piece of paper he wrote:

  "#5 You guess motive and victim.

  "#6 You found one Shirley Vain lying belly down on a unmade bed in northeast bedroom-hand tied behind back with black tape and cord. Feet & ankles with black tape &legs. Ankles tied to west head of the bed with small off white cord, wrap around legs, hands, arm, finally the neck, many times. A off white pla stic bag over her head loop on with a pink nitie was barefooted. She was sick use a glass of water and smoke I or Two cigarette-house a total mess- kids took some toys with them to the bathroom-bedagainst east bathroom door. Chose at random with some pre-planning. Motive Factor X.

  "#7 One Nancy Fox-lying belly down on made bed in southwest bedroom-hands tied behind back with red panty hose-feet together with yellow nitie-semi-nude with pink sweather and bra small neckless-glasses on west dresser-panties below butt-many different than the hosery. She had a smoke and wbnt to the bathroom before the final act-very neat housekeeper& dresser-rifled pursein kitchen-empty paper bag - white coat in living-room- heat up to about 90 degrees, Christsmas tree lights on- nities and hose around the room- hose bag of orange color it and hosery on bed-driver licence gone-seminal stain on or in blue women wear. Chose at random with little pre-planning, Motive Factor "X.”

  "#8 Next victim maybe: You will find her hanging with a wire noose-Hands behind back with black tape or cord -feet with tape or cord-gaged- then cord around the body to the neck -hooded maybe- possible seminal stain in anus-or on body. Will be chosen at random. Some pre-planning-Motive Factor'X'."

  Upon receiving this letter in early 1978, the Wichita Police Department made it public that there was an UNSUB, an unknown serial killer on the loose in Wichita. This prompted citizens to be extra vigilant, to check their phone lines as soon as they entered their homes, and to lock doors and windows.

  For whatever reason, as who really understands a psychopath, the BTK Killer stopped killing and lived as a regular family man. He had a nine year old son, he was a boy scout leader, and a real upstanding citizen. It is well known after many years of studying serial killers that, according to the FBI, they often go through a “cooling off’ period. Seven years passed where Rader killed no one. On April 27th, 1985, he cut the telephone line of one Marine Hedge, fifty-three, and hid in her bedroom waiting for her to come home. Marine came home accompanied by a male friend who stayed until well past midnight while Rader remained in the bedroom unnoticed. He waited for her to go to sleep, then came out of the closet and strangled her to death. He then took the body to his church’s basement where he snapped several pictures of her in various poses before dumping her body in a ditch.

  He was never a suspect for this crime and once again, he stopped killing until the following year. On September 16th, 1986 he knocked on the door at the home of Vicki Wegerle, twenty-eight, a young mother of two children, with the pretext of phones being out in the area and he needed to check hers. She let him in as he looked the part, hardhat and all. Once inside he told her that he was going to tie her up, and led her to the bedroom where he bound her using ropes and then strangled her with a pantyhose. He took off in her car just as her husband was coming around the corner. The husband, seeing his car being driven away, entered the house and found his wife. He called 911 but she died on the way to the hospital. The BTK Killer once again was never a suspect. Unfortunately when a spouse is killed, the other is always a person of interest, and although Bill Wegerle was never charged, until the BTK Killer was captured many years later, there was always suspicion hanging over his head. In my opinion, this is quite sad, as he already had enough to cope with. Author’s note: After researching so many crimes and writing several true-crime books, I have noticed a great deal of injustice in our system – as I’ve pointed out previously.

  Dennis Rader never killed for another five years, which happened to be his last known victim. On January 19th, 1991, Dolores Davis, 62, was reading in bed when she heard a glass break in her sliding backdoor. When she came out to investigate the noise, Rader was there pointing a gun at her. He took her to the bedroom and strangled her; brought the body out to the truck of her car, dumped her body out by the lake, returned the car and went home.

  Arrest

  Over the next fourteen years, Rader supposedly never killed again. He was active in his community on various committees and boards, and involved on the board at the Christ Lutheran Church in Wichita. But in 2004 and 2005 he began sending messages and packages with evidence in it from past crimes to the police, taunting them, letting them know the BTK was still alive. His last package, actually the 11th package, was a floppy disc, letter, and some jewelry he sent to KSAS-TV on February 16th, 2005.

  This last package proved to be sloppy on Rader’s part. He thought he’d erased everything on the disc except the letter, but erasing a disc will not cut it; if you want to truly delete all information from a disc, you have to format it. So, when the investigators analyzed the disc, on it was software from the church, as well as the name, “Dennis.” The detectives drove by Rader’s house after doing an internet search and finding out that Dennis Rader was the president of the Christ Lutheran Church. They did not want to spook him, and very secretly obtained a warrant for DNA sampling. The results were startling yet exciting: they matched semen from several crime scenes. The police now conclusively knew the identity of the BTK Killer.

  On February 25th, 2005, with a warrant in hand, police arrested Dennis Rader as he was leaving his office to go home for lunch. He would spend the next thirty hours confessing to all his crimes. He pleaded guilty to the ten murders and on August 18th, 2005, he was sentenced to one hundred
and seventy five – yep, 175 years in prison – but he is eligible for parole in the year 2180. I guess he will be old when he gets out. He currently resides at the El Dorado Correctional Facility in Kansas.

  David Berkowitz

  The Son of Sam

  Victims (13)

  Background

  Richard David Falco was born on May 9th, 1953 in Brooklyn, New York, to Tony Falco and Betty Broder, who were separated at the time. His real father, however, was a man named Joseph Kleinman, as his mother had had an affair while she was married. The baby’s mother put him up for adoption right away and he was legally adopted by Nathan and Pearl Berkowitz, who named their new son, David.

  At eighteen years old, Berkowitz enlisted with the Army and served stateside and in South Korea until he was discharged three years later. As his adopted mother died when he was thirteen, he decided that twenty-one was a good time to search for his real mother. When he found her, she told him the details of his illegitimate birth, which upset him. After that, Berkowitz stayed away from his birth mother, but continued to have a relationship with his half sister, Roslyn.

  Murders

  Berkowitz was twenty-three when he started killing for reasons unknown. On July 29th, 1976, Rose and Mike Lauria and their daughter Donna, eighteen, and her friend, Jody Valenti, age nineteen, arrived home after midnight after a night out. They were just getting out of their car when Donna noticed a man rushing up to them. He pulled a handgun out of a paper bag, shot Donna in the chest and hit Jody in the leg. The shooter then quickly ran off. Donna’s shot to the chest killed her instantly. The man was later described to police as being in his mid-thirties, almost six foot tall, about 160 pounds, with short, curly dark hair.

  The police believed at the time that it was an attempted mob hit as the father, Mike Lauria, was with a teamsters union, or that it was gang related violence, common in New York at the time. They did discover through ballistics that the gun was a .44 Charter Arms Bulldog revolver. Just a few months later on October 23rd, 1976, there was another shooting. Around 1:30 a.m., Rosemary Keenan, thirty-eight, and Carl Denaro, twenty-five, were parked in Keenan’s car in a secluded area in Queens when their windows exploded. Someone was shooting at them and she took off in the car. Both were bleeding and injured. However, neither of them were killed. Carl had to have surgery and required a metal plate in his head. They never saw the gunman. A police investigation was conducted thoroughly as Rosemary was the daughter of an NYPD police detective. Police, however, had nothing to go on, and the .44 bullets that were removed from the car were too damaged to do any comparisons.

  Just one month later, Joanne Lomino, eighteen, and Donna DeMasi, sixteen, were walking home from a movie on November 26th, 1976 when a man approached them. He drew a revolver and shot both of them, but both survived. Joanne is now a paraplegic. Donna was not permanently severely injured. Besides the two girls, another witness described the man as close to six-foot tall, slim, about 160 pounds, with dirty blond straight hair wearing a long coat that looked to be military.

  John Diel, thirty, and Christine Freund, twenty-six, were recently engaged. On January 30th, 1977, they went to see the new release of the movie, Rocky. When they got into their car, someone shot through the window, killing Christine. John, however, managed to drive away with minor injuries. He never even got a glimpse of the shooter. As ballistics verified that the bullets came from a .44 Bulldog caliber, police made the connection with earlier shootings and suspected they had a serial killer on their hands.

  Just two months later in Virginia on March 8th, 1977, Virginia Voskerichian, nineteen, was shot in the head on her own street. Just as she was shot, a resident came around the corner and almost collided with a young boy whom she described as about eighteen years old, short and tubby. The young boy said, “Oh, Jesus,” and ran off. However, another witness saw the chubby teenager, but also saw another man who resembled the description of the man the media accused of other killings. Berkowitz later said that he was there, but he designed the shooting to throw off the police by changing his MO.

  On March 10th, 1977, the Mayor of New York City, Abraham Beame, and the NYPD, announced that the same .44 was used to kill Virginia as was the previous murders, and added that a task force was now set up: Operation Omega, led by Deputy Inspector Tim Dowd and a force of over three hundred officers dedicated solely to the purpose of catching the suspect.

  On the morning of April 17th, 1977, Valentina Suriani, eighteen, and Alexander Esau, twenty, were killed in their home at about 3a.m. Police discovered a hand written letter at the crime scene addressed to Captain Joseph Borrelli of the NYPD. The letter below is the actual words with errors intact:

  “I am deeply hurt by your calling me a women hater. I am not. But I am a monster. I am the "Son of Sam." I am a little "brat." When father Sam gets drunk he gets mean. He beats his family. Sometimes he ties me up to the back of the house. Other times he locks me in the garage. Sam loves to drink blood. "Go out and kill" commands father Sam. Behind our house some rest. Mostly young — raped and slaughtered — their blood drained — just bones now. Papa Sam keeps me locked in the attic, too. I can't get out but I look out the attic window and watch the world go by. I feel like an outsider. I am on a different wave length then everybody else — programmed too kill. However, to stop me you must kill me. Attention all police: Shoot me first — shoot to kill or else. Keep out of my way or you will die! Papa Sam is old now. He needs some blood to preserve his youth. He has had too many heart attacks. Too many heart attacks. "Ugh, me hoot it urts sonny boy." I miss my pretty princess most of all. She's resting in our ladies house but I'll see her soon. I am the "Monster" — "Beelzebub" — the "Chubby Behemouth." I love to hunt. Prowling the streets looking for fair game — tasty meat. The wemon of Queens are z prettyist of all. I must be the water they drink. I live for the hunt — my life. Blood for papa. Mr. Borrelli, sir, I dont want to kill anymore no sir, no more but I must, "honour thy father." I want to make love to the world. I love people. I don't belong on Earth. Return me to yahoos. To the people of Queens, I love you. And I wa want to wish all of you a happy Easter. May God bless you in this life and in the next and for now I say goodbye and goodnight. Police — Let me haunt you with these words; I'll be back! I'll be back! To be interrpreted as — bang, bang, bang, bank, bang — ugh!! Yours in murder Mr. Monster”

  On May 30th, 1977, Jimmy Breslin, a Columnist with the New York Daily News received a hand written letter from someone who claimed to be the .44 shooter. On the reverse of the envelope in a precise centered quatrain:

  “Blood and Family/Darkness and Death/Absolute Depravity/.44”

  The letter is as follows, with errors, as it was written:

  “Hello from the gutters of N.Y.C. which are filled with dog manure, vomit, stale wine, urine and blood. Hello from the sewers of N.Y.C. which swallow up these delicacies when they are washed away by the sweeper trucks. Hello from the cracks in the sidewalks of N.Y.C. and from the ants that dwell in these cracks and feed in the dried blood of the dead that has settled into the cracks. J.B., I'm just dropping you a line to let you know that I appreciate your interest in those recent and horrendous .44 killings. I also want to tell you that I read your column daily and I find it quite informative. Tell me Jim, what will you have for July twenty-ninth? You can forget about me if you like because I don't care for publicity. However you must not forget Donna Lauria and you cannot let the people forget her either. She was a very, very sweet girl but Sam's a thirsty lad and he won't let me stop killing until he gets his fill of blood. Mr. Breslin, sir, don't think that because you haven't heard from me for a while that I went to sleep. No, rather, I am still here. Like a spirit roaming the night. Thirsty, hungry, seldom stopping to rest; anxious to please Sam. I love my work. Now, the void has been filled. Perhaps we shall meet face to face someday or perhaps I will be blown away by cops with smoking .38's. Whatever, if I shall be fortunate enough to meet you I will tell you all about Sam if you like and I will in
troduce you to him. His name is "Sam the terrible." Not knowing the what the future holds I shall say farewell and I will see you at the next job. Or should I say you will see my handiwork at the next job? Remember Ms. Lauria. Thank you. In their blood and from the gutter "Sam's creation" .44 Here are some names to help you along. Forward them to the inspector for use by N.C.I.C. "The Duke of Death" "The Wicked King Wicker" "The Twenty Two Disciples of Hell" "John 'Wheaties' – Rapist and Suffocator of Young Girls. PS: Please inform all the detectives working the slaying to remain. P.S: JB, Please inform all the detectives working the case that I wish them the best of luck. "Keep 'em digging, drive on, think positive, get off your butts, knock on coffins, etc." Upon my capture I promise to buy all the guys working the case a new pair of shoes if I can get up the money. Son of Sam”

  By this time, police were concentrating on the Bronx and Queens areas, looking for a suspect in the shootings, but the next victims were in Brooklyn. Robert Violante, twenty, and his girlfriend Stacy Moskowitz, twenty, were in his car, parked near a city park when a man approached and fired through the passenger side window, shooting both of them in the head. Stacy died instantly and Robert was seriously injured and left nearly blind. The shooting occurred around 2:30 a.m. on July 31st, 1977.

 
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