antique, RobertUnmasked 6 страница

“Leigh cut quite a figure with his Cadil ac, his trick dives, his white dog, Frosty, and Petunia, a skunk who was not de-scented. What he real yto talk about with me was music and plays, anything from comedy to farce, mysteries to Gilbert and Sul ivan.” Kay assumed Leigh was gay asrarely dated. When he did go out, he brought along his father. “Leigh would give a cal and we’d take off to the movies together,” she recal ed,

“Leigh’s father was very gracious and took me to symphonies and plays with them. I knew the father from ’53 through ’56, a very, very gentle man. ILeigh’s mother only a couple of times. She never made herself visible. I saw her at swim meets. I liked to go and look at the guys. Leigh wasintel igent, almost scary sometimes. He was a bright fel ow, but his brother Ron was the golden boy. His mother wouldn’t have much to doLeigh. I wasn’t ever privy to the fights, but I was privy to the cold shoulders. Commander Al en would ask her if she wanted to go along with usshe’d snap, ‘Why?’ Sometimes Ron went with us and I would have thought she would have been glad to go. Sometimes Leigh spoke of a girlBobbie who had ‘broken his heart.’ Bobbie was Leigh’s first big love, and he used to just talk in glowing colors about her. She was the lovehis life.”’s daughter later told me of her mother’s friendship with Leigh Al en. “She was a diver whose picture often appeared in Val ejo papers insports section between 1952 to 1957,” she said. “Sometimes Al en’s picture was alongside hers in the paper. I think he was a platform divera wrestler. Very clumsy walk when walking down the diving board, he looked terrible until he left the board and dove. Then he was very graceful.when walking he was terribly lumbering. He had a funny hip. In case you don’t already know.” Harold Huffman, Leigh’s childhood friend, thought’s fluctuating weight caused the limp.attended Val ejo Junior Col ege, majoring in the liberal arts, and became Al -American Diving Champ there. On September 18, 1954, heed at California Polytechnic State University at San Luis Obispo. During the 1950s and 1960s Cal Poly San Luis Obispo was affiliated withPoly Pomona, where Don Cheney, Sandy Panzarel a, and Leigh’s brother, Ron, studied. Leigh’s pal, Harold Huffman, was already down thereUSC and coaching every sport he could. For awhile Leigh had difficulty choosing between an engineering or physical education major.his math skil s proved too meager for engineering, he decided to focus on physical education. Ultimately, he settled on elementary educationhis major. On June 16, 1956, at the end of his term, he used his summer break to enlist in the Navy.received his associate of arts degree from Val ejo Junior Col ege in 1957. He returned to Cal Poly from January 1959 until June 13, 1959,excel ed. He became the State Col ege Trampoline Champion for Central California and Central California Spear Fishing Champ. On July 27,

, Al en applied at the State Department of Education in Sacramento for a position, but by January 4, 1960, was back studying at San Luis. He remained until June 1960, when he began work at Hemet Mental Hospital only twenty miles from Riverside. One good thing hadfrom his brief Navy stint—he was able to study on the G.I. Bil at Cal Poly from January 1961 until March 1961.June 19, 1961 he applied at the State Personnel Board in Sacramento as a psychiatric technical trainee, Department of Mental Hygiene, andbecame a psychiatric teacher at Atascadero. There he became friendly with a convicted murderer who had been jailed for several years. Hesaid they exchanged samples of code. Al en graduated from Cal Poly with a bachelor’s in education (B.E.) on December 15, 1961. Only sixshy of a master’s degree, he seemed unable to final y sever his ties with col ege life. During this time, he owned hunting rifles, at least two.22-pistols, and, true to his Zodiac sign of Sagittarius, a hunting bow and arrows.1959 to 1963, Leigh, stil in the process of obtaining his teaching credentials, had various jobs. He taught fourth grade and P.E. at SantaSchool in Atascadero just north of Cal Poly. “I real y enjoyed teaching elementary school kids,” he said. “My kids did wel —one little girl in thegrade knew tenth-grade math by the time she graduated. My entire class could read at seventh-grade level. I sure loved working withschool kids.”, Panzarel a, Cheney, and Leigh’s brother, Ron, were attending the Cal Poly campus in Pomona together. Panzarel a’s major field ofwas electronic engineering, Cheney’s was mechanical engineering, and Ron’s, landscape architecture. They shared a rented house to cut. “In 1961-1962,” Cheney afterward told me,“we al were living in a four-bedroom house with two students named Bil and Joe. We had twoin the one larger bedroom—Ron and I slept there. Those were good times.

“Ron had a good sense of humor, he was entertaining and a fun guy. Everyone liked him. He was a very easygoing guy and a notorious. He was very wel laid back. He was bril iant in his landscape architecting work at school, but he didn’t keep his grade point average. He passed some courses, but not with flying colors, so he had to stay at Cal Poly for quite a while so that he could get his average up to. He would do very wel in other courses, but he could never get around to taking the final. He dragged on and on. He never made it to earlyclasses. He had an alarm clock—one of those Big Bens with the great big gongs on the top of it—that thing would ring, would run downstop ringing, and he wouldn’t twitch.

“Cal Poly Pomona was about two miles away to the west, and I rode a bike to school each day. Sandy graduated in the spring of 1964, but Iactual y graduated. I should have graduated in the winter of 1964. I finished up and had a problem with my senior project and I wimped out on, didn’t do it.

“That house is where Sandy and I first met Leigh. It was 1962. I was stil single then, and married Ann later that year. I remember that one timey. Leigh had just rol ed in there from Riverside. He had been attending sports car racing. He went every year for the big race they heldthere in the early summer. I went with Ron and Leigh together one time. In fact, the only sporting events Leigh and I went to together were road. He frequented Laguna Seca, Vacavil e, and Riverside. He was a student there. Leigh owned an Austin Healey and used to go to a drivingin Riverside; after taking those lessons he kept commuting down there for the races.”, May 30, 1963Allen paid an unexpected visit to the house in Southern California. “I remember Leigh came down to visit us,” Panzarel a told me. “Leighnot living in the Pomona area, but had just come down to Pomona that weekend. I thought it was odd at the time. And he had a machete in the. For no particular reason, he walked in without a word and slammed it into the counter and tried to scare everybody. One of my roommates, Joe, was there. My ex-wife was there when it happened. Ron was somewhere in the house. That was just before I left at the end of theand Ron and I went and got a place together in Walnut. I stil think about Leigh coming to Pomona to visit just before the boy and girl were. That’s creepy.”, June 3, 1963the morning, Leigh curtailed his visit and started back to Atascadero, where Santa Rosa Elementary School was closing for the summer. Heto pack up, then return to Val ejo that day. Heading north on Highway 101, on a direct line to Atascadero, he climbed from Ventura toBarbara, passing Goleta, then El Capitan Beach, and closing on Refugio Beach. The Santa Ynez Mountains loomed to the northeast, andeast and far beyond—Los Padres National Forest. Sand blew across the divided blacktop and gul s wheeled in the sky. In places the northsouth lanes were neighborly, running side by side with each other, but in spots they widened away. A gray mist swept in from the sea. “They’veme searching my memory for blank spots, for lapses,” Al en would say years later. Ahead he saw a turnout, just at the point where 101 leavesbeach. His eyes strayed over the divide to 101 southbound. Beyond was the beach. He was now three miles south of the Gaviota Tunnel.

domingos and linda edwards, June 3, 1963miles south of the Gaviota Tunnel, an attractive teenage couple, Robert George Domingos and Linda Faye Edwards, swung onto an oak-turnout just off southbound 101. Domingos pul ed his gray Pontiac over and the laughing couple piled out, radiant in their youth and promise.had left home, ostensibly for a Lompoc High School seniors’ “Ditch Day” graduation party. Instead, the couple intended celebrating at the. Thick bushes hid their car from passing north-bound traffic. However, any auto cruising southbound could spot the vehicle, an indicationwas down on the isolated beach.was the eighteen-year-old son of a wel -to-do Lompoc rancher; Linda was to be eighteen in three days. For both it had been a day of and anticipation as they looked forward to their nuptials in October. The teenagers were roughly twenty miles west of Santa Barbara andmiles from El Capitan Beach. Robert dug a large blanket from the trunk, and the couple crossed the highway and over railroad tracks runningthem and a low bluff. From the bluff, one of the chain of unstable sea cliffs tracing the shoreline, they had a view of the mile-and-a-half-longbeach below. Beyond stood the Channel Islands—San Miguel, Santa Rosa, and Santa Cruz. Robert and Linda commenced down a steep,y hidden path to the beach, running the last twenty yards. Banana palm trees lining Refugio Creek gave the area a tropical atmosphere.the creek flowed into the ocean, a freshwater lagoon had formed.and Linda reached an isolated spot frequented only by the occasional local fisherman. They saw evidence of recent activity. Long agobeach had been the chief contrabandista port on the coast, visited by genteel smugglers and ferocious pirates. At the mouth of the canyon,in the sand, lay traces of an ancient adobe foundation. In early California days a grand rancho, La Nuestara Señora del Refugio, stood there.faced the sea boldly until the French pirate Hyppolyte de Bouchard—by gun, by knife, by rope, and by fire—put an end to that. His buccaneersthe servants, cut the throats of the horses, tied up the Ortega family, and burned their impressive hacienda.teenagers spread out their blanket on the sand near the rocky shoreline. The day before, at just the same spot, a man with reddish hair hadshooting at seagul s with a rifle. Rich tide pools, swarming with life, moved with each surge of salt water. Spray exploded against black rocks,the sharp tang of sea air fil ed the teenagers’ lungs. Sailboats danced in Santa Barbara Channel, and in the sky aircraft droned lazily—anwas nearby. The laughing pair lounged in their swimsuits at the surf line as the day passed and the sky clouded over. Of al transitional, those between sea and land are the most disparate and prone to alteration. Robert and Linda grew drowsy, barely aware of the boom ofwaves and wavelets rustling eel grasses at the sea edge. The crack of a twig on the path made them start. The lowering sun flashing off theand gusts of sand blinded them. They drew back as a squarish shadow fel upon the sand. Peering up, they saw a man leveling a.22-caliberat them.Rope—He barked orders. First came fumbling attempts to tie them—the man had brought along precut lengths of narrow cotton clothesline.he coerced Linda to bind Robert. She had tied a loosely knotted length around his wrist, and was stil clinching a rope in her hand when theknelt. With trembling fingers, he began to finish the tying himself—first with a few granny knots and then marline hitches, a knot notused by laymen. In the midst of this, Robert and Linda leaped to their feet and plunged into the steep creek bed leading uphil from the. The couple tried to run in the soft sand of the creek bed. They lurched in the general direction of a shack, which had been barely visiblethe blanket.Gun—The interloper thundered after them, firing on the run. Slugs ripped into the young man first, hitting him in the back as he ran screaminghelp. There was no one to hear them. The bul ets were closely grouped, astonishing accuracy for shooting while moving. Robert dropped face. The stranger then swung the rifle toward Linda, firing into her back. He approached slowly until he stood over the couple. He pumped moreets into the boy’s back, striking him in al eleven times. Linda had fal en onto her back, and so a fusil ade of bul ets penetrated her chest., she was hit eight times.kil er’s viciousness had not abated as he continued to inflict injuries upon the corpses. Dragging Robert face down by his legs away from the, he left welts and abrasions just above the boy’s surfer’s trunks. Rocks scraped his chest and face, leaving deep contusions. The strangersweating by the time he completed the first part of his gruesome task—hiding the corpse in the woodpile shelter by the nearly dry creek bed.primitive structure lay halfway between the shore and the railroad embankment. Almost lost among dense shrubs and trees, it was used mostlytransients.Knife—He returned to the woman, cut down the front of her swimsuit with a knife, and exposed her breasts. He slashed her body, the woundsa curved river. Next, he dragged her feet-first to the shack, and because Linda was supine, al the abrasions were to her back and. After pul ing her inside the lean-to, he ripped off her swimsuit and tossed it cal ously over her fiancé. Then he draped Linda’s body, face, over the boy.Fire—Now the stranger looked around for things to burn. He gathered up his leftover lengths of rope and empty cartridge boxes and tossedinto the shack. Smashing the lean-to, he ignited it with wooden matches he had brought along. A funeral pyre would hide al traces of his. Although he tried several times, the structure refused to catch, or he might have returned to his car on the road above believing thatbehind him was blazing., June 4, 1963Linda and Robert failed to return, Domingos’s father filed a missing persons report. The Santa Barbara Sheriff’s Department issued an al -bul etin. The father, along with other family members, joined the search party, and that night located the missing boy’s car in the turnout. APatrolman took the trail to the beach below to look further. The lean-to shack was so concealed it took searchers thirty hours to discoverteenagers. Tracks and postmortem marks on the bodies showed they had been dragged there. That there were no usable latent prints meantkil er had likely worn gloves. It was an incomparably evil crime.sexual attack had taken place, and that was uncommon. At least there was no presence of semen, though the relatively primitive forensicof the time might have missed it. Stil, that was doubtful. The board-certified forensics pathologist who performed the autopsies wasqualified, having been trained at the L.A. Coroner’s Office.contingent of jail inmates roved the crime scene. Prisoners had been bused there to scour the brush and comb a three-mile section of desolatefor evidence. The lead sheriff’s detective, Wil iam Baker, feared they might have compromised the integrity of the crime scene. “You have anof what I am up against,” Baker told me, “as I strive to resurrect from the ashes the reality of the case. You have to figure it was 1963. We’dout with either Search and Rescue, or sometimes get other explorers. This time they had trustees out there going on searches for cartridgeor whatever else they could find. I shudder when I think about it, but that’s the reality. And they did find some casings, quite a few, expendedthe victims’ flight path—a dry creek bed that led from the blanket near the beach up towards the shack where the kids were actual y found.distinct points where more casings were located served to pinpoint where the victims were initial y dropped.”convict spotted twenty.22-caliber shel casings glimmering in the canyon creek bed. Detectives spied something too—shoe tracks cutinto the light sand and sparse grass leading to and from the ragged shelter. The tracks came from a Navy or Air Force shoe similar to Wing. Both the ammo and shoes were sold through base exchanges. Vandenberg Air Force Base, a SAC unit, lay near Lompoc, and was onlyhour’s drive from the murder site.

“And since this was an early experience for the kil er,” Baker noted, “he may have held onto his weapon and even the same ammo to use again.”murderer had used Winchester.22 ammo, long-rifle—the same brand and caliber Zodiac would use five and a half years later on dark LakeRoad just outside Val ejo. “The location where Domingos and Edwards chose to spend ‘Ditch Day’ was isolated,” Baker said, “and not awhere one would expect to find young couples, even with the presence of the victims’ car at the turnout. Given that, the kil er, armed with aand knife, along with precut lengths of rope and wooden matches, descended upon our victims with apparent murderous intent. Were theyowed there? Had he selected his victims beforehand and was there a way to find a connection between the victims and the kil er?”Baker could not name them, he suspected items were missing from the crime site. In his studies, he scanned six eight-by-ten-inch police. One showed the arson attempt upon the lean-to, the male victim in situ within the shack. Another photo showed Sheriff James W., Chief of Detectives Charles Taylor, and a local TV anchorman by the lean-to. The newsman was posed with his hand on the shack and ain his mouth. Baker studied three pictures of Robert on the autopsy table showing contusions and abrasions on his knuckles. Theon the knuckles of his right hand (Baker could not see the left in the pictures) led him to suspect Robert had fought with his attacker.

“Those abrasions on his face were perimortem or postmortem when he was dragged face down by his feet to the shack,” said Baker. “I suspect thething would have happened to the Berryessa victims if they had broken loose from Zodiac. Zodiac would have dropped his knife and gunneddown. As for the red-haired man [seen the day before], police found him and determined to their satisfaction that he wasn’t involved. Otherdidn’t lead me to give it any particular emphasis. As for Riverside, I felt Zodiac had only taken credit for that murder. But the attackoccurred in Southern California and Zodiac talked about there being a lot more of them down here. He might have meant our case.”, June 5, 1963and Domingos had just been kil ed and were in everyone’s thoughts. Certainly the tragedy occupied Panzarel a and Cheney’s minds.had discussed the murders at length. Because of that, they were able to accurately recal the exact weekend Al en appeared suddenly at their. In Lompoc the high school graduations ceremonies were stil held, but conducted around two empty seats. Above those lonely chairs, a flagat half-mast. Six months passed as the terrible and motiveless murders remained unsolved., December 9, 1963, still qualifying for his teaching credentials, continued to apply for various positions at the Department of Education in Sacramento. While hewaiting, his scholastic record and military background al owed him to teach school at Travis AFB in Fairfield, not far from Val ejo. Though heelementary classes, he settled for instructing seventh- and eighth-graders in spel ing, health, and P.E. He was permitted to shop at theexchange, purchasing goods at discount—everything from ammo for his hunting trips to boots. However, Wing Walker shoes were not solduntil two years later when the Weinbrenner shipment was dispersed. After a year at the Travis school, he was fired for habitual y leaving anof deadly weapons lying about his car in plain sight.

“The thing that got me,” recal ed Panzarel a, “was that when Leigh lost a teaching job, he came down in his Austin Healey sports car and tried tous guys that he lost the job because they had a security check and he was carrying a revolver. But the real reason was child molesting. Hethe phrase that it made him so angry that he wanted to ‘kil the little kiddies as they came bouncing off the bus.’ That stuck with me al my life.that’s the phrase that was later used by the Zodiac kil er.”1964, Leigh taught at Watsonvil e, north of Salinas, and heard a strange story. In the San Bernardino area at Pacific High School, a youngin dark-framed glasses with a black elastic band strode unannounced to the front of the classroom. The teacher had not yet arrived. “In veryletters, he wrote ZODIAC on the blackboard,” said a student there, “along with a few codelike symbols I cannot recal.”August 1965, Leigh lacerated his leg in an accident that required plastic surgery, and though his mishap hobbled him wel into 1966, he stilout feelers for a new teaching job. “The injury,” he wrote on December 23, 1965, “put me out of commission until recently.” But he wasable to work a little for his friend Glen Rinehart’s brother, Dale, at an airfield in Texas, where he got his pilot’s license. His weight was220 pounds., June 18, 1966a state credential in General Elementary and four years’ teaching experience, Al en applied by mail to the Calaveras Unified Schoolin San Andreas for work. “I also enjoy the country,” he wrote, “and I can’t stand smog.” He listed the grades he wanted to instruct in order of—“4, 5, 6, 7, and 8.” “I can teach physical education and art and music, but not too wel.” The elementary school subjects that mosthim were “athletics, science, nature study, and music appreciation.” He gave his height as six feet, altered his weight to reflect anotherpounds gained because of his incapacity, and mentioned membership “until this year” in two professional organizations—the NEA and CTA.exaggerated the time he had actual y taught, and claimed a present salary of $300 per month. He quickly altered the figure to $400. “Whenyou come in for an interview?” he was asked. “Mondays or Tuesdays would be best as I am involved in recreation on other days,” he answered.began honing his teaching skil s at a school cal ed Mountain Town in the Sierras and at Val ey Springs Elementary School in Val ey Springs,Northern California town just west of San Andreas. On the Val ey Springs application he wrote down Ted Kidder as a reference. Leigh taught hisyear of grade school at Val ey Springs uneventful y, but soon old problems arose—his improper attentions toward children and poorlyhatred of women.

“Leigh sent out a lot of resumes,” Cheney told me, “and worked hard to find a teaching job. But I didn’t know about the teaching jobs that he had. He didn’t speak about that. I knew he taught at Travis, but I didn’t see or visit him while he was there. He looked a lot like Dan Blocker, ‘Hoss’on the Bonanza television show, so in the sixties, when Leigh used to go to a big sporting event or there were a lot of people around, hea big white cowboy hat he would wear. He wanted people, especial y kids, to think he was Dan Blocker. As for that cowboy hat, Leigh had thatI met him, and probably had been pul ing that deception since the show came on the air in 1959.” Leigh would smile and say, “‘Hoss’ isfor Good Luck.”, October 30, 1966Allen, wearing his white cowboy hat and “Big” Dan Blocker smile, traveled to Riverside to attend the Los Angeles International Grand Prix.autumn afternoon, he watched the race along with approximately eighty thousand people. At 6:10 P.M. Cheri Jo Bates, an eighteen-year-oldCity Col ege freshman, set out along Magnolia to the RCC library. The library closed between 5:00 and 6:00 P.M. In order to realize herto become an airline stewardess, Cheri Jo had to meet education and age requirements. She would qualify by the end of her sophomoreand had contacted many of the major airlines. Cheri Jo had just visited her fiancé of two years, Dennis Earl Highland, at San Francisco State. Inexplicably, she told two girlfriends, “I’m going to the library to meet my boyfriend.” However, Highland was at that moment playing in San Francisco at S. F. State. Police later conjectured that she had meant a former suitor.friend observed the strikingly attractive, blond cheerleader speed by in her lime-green VW. A 1965-66 bronze Oldsmobile fol owed closely. She parked, leaving the right passenger window partial y down. Ten minutes later Cheri Jo checked out three books from the local col ege. Though her friends were at the smal, cramped library between 7:15 and 8:57 P.M., none recal ed seeing her there. At 9:00 P.M., when theclosed, she returned to her car to discover the engine would not catch. And here she had been working part-time at the Riverside Nationaljust to pay for the vehicle. Parked behind her car was a Tucker Torpedo that had not been there before.her absence, someone had gained access to the engine, yanked out the distributor coil and condenser, and disconnected the middle wire ofdistributor. As Cheri Jo ran the battery down, a man approached from the shadows and stepped to the partial y rol ed-down right-side window.

“Having trouble?” he said. “Let me take a look at the engine.” After failing to start the auto, he said, “My car is over in the parking lot. Come on, I’lyou a lift.” She left her books on the seat and keys stil in the ignition. Did she know the man, or had he forced her to accompany him?unlit gravel road to the parking lot was long, dark, and silent. The pair walked approximately two hundred feet away and paused in a dirtmidway between two vacant frame houses at 3680 and 3692 Terracina. Their conversation was later detailed in a typed “confession” sent to the police. “It’s about time,” he said. “About time for what?” she asked. “It’s about time for you to die.” A knife was in his hand.10:15 and 10:45 P.M. a female neighbor heard an “awful scream.” At 10:30 another heard “two screams.” After a couple of minutes of, an old car started up. In that time the kil er, trailing drops of blood, had gone back to search for something he had dropped., October 31, 1966groundskeeper discovered Cheri Jo at 6:28 A.M. From the forty-two stab wounds, estimates were the knife blade was approximately threeone-half inches long and one and one-half inch wide. The motive was mystifying—she was ful y clothed and had not been sexual y attacked or. During a ferocious, earth-churning battle, Bates had scratched her kil er’s face and ripped a paint-spattered Timex watch from his wrist.black band, broken away from one side of the watch face, measured seven inches in circumference. The Timex had been purchased at abase exchange. The B.F. Goodrich heel prints found near Bates’s body indicated a size-8-to-10 Wing Walker-like shoe manufactured formilitary by Leavenworth prisoners and sold by military exchanges. Just outside Riverside city limits lay March Air Force Base, a SAC base. Aof greasy finger and palm prints were discovered on the left door of the victim’s car. Four workmen had been seen across the street fromBates’s car was parked on Terracina. The prints were sent to Washington and the Timex to CI&I.8:30 A.M. Leigh Al en cal ed in sick. For the first time, he missed a day of work at Val ey Springs School. The next day, he fil ed out anform and signed it. No one recal ed scratches on his face, but Al en said he was in Pomona when he heard Cheri Jo Bates was kil ed. Heserved as a painter in the Navy. That might explain paint specks on the base exchange Timex, but that was a long time ago.

“I was at the Riverside City Col ege library the night Cheri Bates was murdered,” an RCC student told me. “I had the same kind of car that sheand I was parked in front of her. I normal y left the library when it closed, as she did, but I left earlier that night. The point is that I always felt [the victim] could have been me because of the timing and that I must have been in the library with him that night. Bates was a cheerleader and my best.”transient, with a knife in his possession, was discovered sleeping in his nearby car, questioned, then released. A local mother found a kitchenmissing and told police she suspected her son might be the kil er. After questioning Cheri Jo’s friends, police turned to questioning fifteenmen from the nearby air base. Fourteen days after Bates’s murder, Riverside police, under command to “drop everything and work thisuntil solved!” ordered the sixty-two students, two librarians, and one custodian who had been at the library that fatal night to return for a. “Wear the same clothes you did two weeks ago.”, November 13, 1966Dick Yonkers and Detective Sergeant LeRoy Gren coordinated the library reenactment. The two stage managers lifted the curtain at 5.M. just as six motorcycle officers under traffic sergeant Al Fogarty were stationed at Terracina and Riverside, Fairfax and Riverside, in theeyway paral el to Magnolia near Terracina, and at the al ey exit onto Fairfax.Earl Brown and D.A.’s investigator Loren Mitchel, working from a master list, questioned and tape-recorded each student as they. “What vehicle did you notice parked in front of you?” asked Brown. “A ’47-’52 tan-gray Studebaker with oxidized paint,” came one answer.the initial interview, each student was given a card with an assigned letter and checked off personal y by Captain Irvin Cross, head of thebureau, as they completed the reenactment. Cross fingerprinted and snipped a lock of hair from each student. “Is there anybody you recalhere that night who isn’t here tonight?” he asked each. “Give me a name and description.” The curtain fel at 9:00 P.M., the time when theusual y closed on Sunday nights. Only two people hadn’t returned—a woman and a bearded, heavyset young man, five feet eleven and a half—Al en’s height.Mel Nicolai later placed Al en in Riverside that dreary Sunday. “He wasn’t working or going to school at the col ege,” he said. “He wouldgo down every weekend from Calaveras County because he was involved in a car club down there. He was definitely there that weekend.”, November 14, 1966in thePress-Enterprise: “City police hunt bearded man after staging scene in murder. A heavy-set man with a beard is being sought.”Gren said police are “very interested” in talking to this man. The implication was that the kil er had worn a beard as a disguise. Diddisguise himself with various wigs—pompadour, black hair, crew cut? What sort of man relies on a hairpiece to look different? A manhair., November 22, 1966nineteen-year-old University of California at Riverside coed, walking west on Linden, became aware of a car creeping slowly alongside her.around, she observed a man offering her a ride. “No, thanks,” she said. “Wel, after al, I’m not Jack the Ripper,” replied the driver. “Don’trecal? I gave you a ride three weeks ago.” Three weeks ago Cheri Jo had been murdered. The girl smiled, vaguely remembering him, openedcar door, and slid in. The ride went smoothly. He dropped her off at a local pizza parlor. When her boyfriend failed to meet her, she started backthe UCR library. The same man rol ed alongside again and picked her up, but instead of taking her home, drove rapidly up a dark road toPass. “There are a lot of kooks running around,” he said as the car slowed. “You heard about that girl at City Col ege, didn’t you?”, the girl leaped from the car. Racing along the road’s edge, she fel. “I’m not going to kil you,” he shouted as she scrambled to her feet.

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