The Boston Stranglers (25 page)

This last comment was one of Bottomly's most revealing.

Albert was no more eager to confess to the slayings of Patricia Bissette, Beverly Samans, Joann Graff, and Mary Sullivan than he was to that of Sophie Clark—or, indeed, to any of the others, despite his initial stated desire to unburden himself and despite his disclaimer that the details of the older women hadn't affected him the way those of the younger women had.

He couldn't explain why he had moved nineteen-year-old Mary Sullivan's body from one bed to another in the room she'd shared with Pamela Parker and Patricia Delmore at 44A Charles Street in Boston. He also blanked on other significant details of that murder. And there was physical evidence left at that crime scene that could not be connected with him.
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On September 9, 1965, Albert and Bottomly discussed at length the fact that one of Albert's Bridgewater acquaintances was a young man incarcerated there for killing his wife. This man had known Mary Sullivan on Cape Cod—had in fact dated her—and, according to Albert, had referred to Mary with considerable contempt as “a skinny little bitch.” The wife-murderer's opinion of women in general was low; they were all, he confided to Albert, “no God damn good.”

Albert also told Bottomly that after this young man had found out that Albert had admitted to Mary's murder, he remarked, “Well, I don't have to. I don't have to play a game with you.”

Bottomly asked Albert to place when he had killed twenty-three-year-old Patricia Bissette. Albert thought it was after the death of Sophie Clark, which was true, and after the attack on Erika Wilsing, which wasn't.

That Pat had offered her killer (or someone) this hospitality had been widely reported in the press, the Globe even stating that “the coffee in one cup had been served black and the other mixed with cream.” It was also noted that one unwashed cup had been found in the living room, the other in the kitchen.

Albert said Patricia had a Christmas tree in her living room and a record player with a broken cover. Again, he had previously viewed the crime scene photos.

Albert's confession to the murder of twenty-three-year-old Joann Graff of Lawrence was not particularly convincing. Because it had taken place the weekend after the death of John F. Kennedy, it received somewhat less press coverage than it ordinarily might have.

Even aided by these extremely leading questions, the Task Force chief was unable to draw the correct responses from Albert. Joann did in fact have a telephone. And her brown leather clutch wallet was missing from the apartment, presumably taken by her killer.

Bottomly persisted. “Now, remember the Anna Slesers case, you got a lot of blood on you which caused you some problems.”

According to the Lawrence police report by the officer who had discovered Joann's body, there was blood on the bedspread and on the victim's bra, which had been ripped open.

Bottomly asked Albert what had happened when the latter had walked around Joann's building—as Albert claimed he had, and as had been reported in news accounts—looking for the victim's apartment.

The Task Force chief was not about to concede defeat so easily.

It wasn't the answer the Task Force chief wanted.

Despite repeated requests from Bottomly, Albert didn't wish to discuss the murder of twenty-six-year-old Beverly Samans in Cambridge. He also made clear the reasons for his reluctance.

Later that same day, August 24, 1965, Albert told Bottomly that he was “blocking out” Beverly's killing.

Albert was ready to confess to the slaying fully on September 9, 1965. Whatever consultations or arrangements with F. Lee Bailey that needed to be made had clearly had been taken care of in one fashion or another.

Albert told the Task Force chief that while he was working in the Belmont house, he went down to the cellar, where he opened some drawers and looked into them.

Albert claimed that this stolen switchblade was the weapon he had used on Beverly, and that after leaving her apartment he'd driven to Malden (a small city just north of Boston) and thrown the knife in a swamp. This wetland had been filled in with gravel and houses built atop it, Albert said.

The point that the switchblade obviously couldn't be recovered now was moot; it wasn't the murder weapon anyway. Beverly had been stabbed to death with one of her own paring knives, which the killer had washed and put on the drainboard along with an assortment of other knives, forks, and spoons in an attempt to mislead the Cambridge police. The cleaning job was as inadequate as was the effort to conceal; the knife was still bloodstained.