TRACE EVIDENCE: The Hunt for the I-5 Serial Killer (29 page)

“You said he had handcuffs,” he said. “You sure?”

“What do you mean?” Her voice cracked, and she seemed ready to cry again. “He was gonna put ’em on me! Fuck, yes, he had handcuffs!”

Coffelt brought one of his officers over to take a full statement from the shaky victim. Then, he directed another officer to go back to the parking lot and search it.

“What am I looking for, Sarge?”

“Handcuffs.”

U
NDER GAUDY
chandeliers in the main ballroom of a Nashville, Tennessee, hotel, Lt. Ray Biondi stood at the podium beside several display boards with poster-size pictures of Stephanie
Brown, Charmaine
Sabrah, Lora
Heedick, Karen
Finch, and articles of cut clothing, along with maps showing the locations of the abductions and dead bodies.

In his presentation to more than 200 homicide detectives from thirty-five states attending the
National Conference on Serial Killing, Biondi laid out the pertinent facts of the unsolved series, including the peculiar “nonfunctional” clothes cutting found in three of the four cases.

Biondi showed the hefty printout of the computerized suspect list recently compiled by DOJ. “The identifiable suspects we’ve been able to find have been interviewed at least once,” he said. “Some more than that.”

Suggesting that the computer was a good way to organize and
prioritize suspect leads in a series that lent itself to thousands of tips called in from the general public, he reviewed the criteria that were developed to give weight to various factors relevant to the murder series.

“Of course, these are only suspects we
know
about. I’m sure there are other viable suspects we don’t know about. Is our killer on this list? I can’t tell you. Check with me after we catch him and I’ll let you know.”

Biondi made his presentation on the first day of the four-day conference, and the
I-5 display stayed up along one wall of the ballroom for the
next three days. He also attended a workshop involving female murders associated with freeways, and heard of an unsolved series along Interstate 10 in a southern state in which all the victims were redheads. He also learned of a couple of cases in which clothing had obviously been ripped or cut for quick removal from the victim. However, he never once came across similar nonfunctional clothes cutting—not during other presentations or countless coffee breaks or over evening cocktails in the hospitality room, where the most valuable inside information was always dispensed at cop conventions over free drinks. Nowhere in the country had there been a case with the consistent and baffling signature of the I-5 killer.

Biondi boarded a plane to return home on the afternoon of Thursday, September 17, 1987.

Although he wouldn’t know it for another twenty-four hours, that same day a fifth body was found.

F
IRST THING
the next morning, criminalist Jim Streeter received a call from a deputy in the
South Lake Tahoe substation of the
El Dorado County Sheriff’s Department, which didn’t have its own
crime lab and contracted its forensic science work to DOJ.

Streeter was told that an unidentified nude female homicide victim had been found the previous afternoon off a closed service road adjacent to Highway 50, four or five miles west of Lake Tahoe. He was asked to respond to the sheriff’s substation in South Lake Tahoe, and from there he’d be taken to the mortuary. They wanted him to check the body, before the autopsy, for any fibers or hairs that at some point might be matched to a suspect.

El Dorado was Sacramento County’s immediate neighbor to the east. From downtown Sacramento to South Lake Tahoe it was 100 miles on U.S. Highway 50, with the first portion of the drive through the suburban sprawl of Sacramento County and the rest through rugged El Dorado, a 65-mile-long county that extended from rattlesnake-rich foothills where gold was discovered at Sutter’s Fort nearly 140 years earlier into pine-studded High Sierra country, ending at the western and southern shores of Lake Tahoe, the largest alpine lake in North America.

On a Sunday drive with his family, Streeter would have taken his time and enjoyed the changing scenery—most of it national forest—but not today. With thoughts of murder and dead bodies on his mind, he made the trip in under two hours, walking into the South Lake Tahoe sheriff’s substation at 11:30
A.M.

Told by a lieutenant that he’d have to wait for the arrival of the detectives, who were still at the crime scene, Streeter cooled his heels for half an hour.

When the detectives showed up, they explained that the nude body of a young adult female was discovered in the woods by a woman jogger who decided to investigate a strange odor she’d been noticing in the area for several days. The victim had obviously been strangled with a ligature that was still around her neck.

Streeter was told that the victim’s clothing had been strewn about the area. He was shown several garments that had been recovered from the crime scene.

Each article of clothing was sealed in a plastic bag, and Streeter left them in place so as not to lose any possible trace evidence prior to a more thorough exam at the lab. He moved the material around under the plastic until he found what he had hoped he wouldn’t, and yet exactly what he expected to find. A chill went down his back.

“Heard of the I-5 series?” he asked, his eyes riveted on the plastic evidence bag still in his hands.

The answer was no, even though a detective from El Dorado’s main office in
Placerville, the county seat 40 miles west of South Lake Tahoe, had attended the I-5 meeting held a month earlier at DOJ. It was another instance of miscommunication, even in such a small department as El Dorado (120 sworn officers), which had only eleven detectives total to handle all types of investigations: eight assigned to Placerville and three at the South Lake Tahoe substation.

“This killing appears similar,” Streeter said, not looking to get into a lengthy explanation.

The criminalist, however, picked up the nearest phone and called the Sacramento County Sheriff’s Homicide Bureau to speak to Lt. Biondi, whom he found out to lunch. He left word that he would call back.

Streeter was taken to the nearby mortuary where Jane Doe was due to be autopsied later that day.

The body, greenish in appearance due to decomposition, was lying on a gurney in an embalming room.

After a visual examination of the body, Streeter plugged in a handheld laser, which was really just a fancy black light. He slipped on a pair of yellow goggles and snapped off the overhead light. Under the pale gray beam of the light, the body was bathed an eerie yellowish green.

The object of the laser examination was to try to find objects that under normal light would not be seen. In a head-to-toe examination of
the corpse, Streeter found three fiber fragments—they showed up in various fluorescent colors under the black light. He collected them from the victim’s right arm, right breast, and pubic hair.

Whitish stains were illuminated on several areas of the body, possibly indicating
semen. Streeter used a black felt pen to outline the areas on the victim’s right breast, across her chest extending down toward her left hip, and on her left leg shin. None of these areas, however, would test positive to acid phosphatase, the medium used to detect the presence of seminal fluid.

All the while, the mortician, who with his comically dour expression and all-black outfit looked like he should be cast on “The Addams Family,” had been hovering over the body like an overly protective parent.

Streeter told the mortician to have the autopsy physician swab the areas he’d encircled in black ink. “They need to use swabs moistened with distilled water and only one swab should be used for a single area,” he added, knowing how country bumpkins could screw up scientific evidence.

The criminalist made a point to look at the victim’s wrists to check for any hair loss, indicative of tape having been wrapped around her wrists at some point as bindings, but found none.

With help, Streeter rolled the stiff body onto its side. Examining the buttocks, he noted what appeared to be fecal matter on and around the rectal area. There had not been fecal stains on any of the garments he’d seen, leading Streeter to conclude that Jane Doe had been killed at some point after her clothes were off.

Streeter told the El Dorado detectives what other evidence he needed from the autopsy. “Her entire head of hair should be collected, if at all possible, so that I can examine it for any traces of
duct tape. As for fingerprints, I’d like for her hands to be removed and delivered to our Latent Fingerprint Section.”

One of the detectives arched an eyebrow.

“Some of the items recovered at the scene may have palm prints on them,” Streeter said, by way of explaining his unusual request. “I want us to have a complete set of impressions for elimination purposes. And an X ray might help us in identifying her.”

Streeter had noticed something strange about the four fingers on her right hand: they were missing the last joint, and had no fingernails. He thought X rays could determine if the shortened fingers were the result of postmortem animal activity or a birth defect.

Streeter called
Sacramento from the mortuary, this time reaching Biondi.

“I’m in South Lake Tahoe. I’ve just seen a Jane Doe found here yesterday that you may want to see before the autopsy. Nude female body dump off Highway 50, ligature strangulation.”

“Think it’s our guy?”

Streeter had saved the best for last.

“Ray, her clothes are cut.”

D
ETECTIVES
Kay Maulsby and Joe Dean arrived at the South Lake Tahoe mortuary at 4:00
P.M.
After looking at the body, they went to the sheriff’s substation to see the clothing. Then, they returned to the mortuary for the 6:00
P.M.
autopsy.

They all wore masks, and for Maulsby, her most outstanding memory of her first autopsy would forever be the terrible stench that emanated from the decomposing corpse.

The pathologist began by making a cursory physical inspection of the body. He noted numerous scrapes and bruises on her arms and legs and a deep bruise on her right hip.

The ligature around her neck, a black material, turned out to be one of several pieces of a chiffon jacket recovered at the scene. At the back of the victim’s head, the ligature was entwined around a section of tree branch. Strands of the victim’s medium-length, slightly curly blond hair were caught in the ligature. The placement and tightness of the ligature, the pathologist remarked, was sufficient to cause death.

The victim had been gagged with a piece of her own
pantyhose. A portion of nylon had been stuffed into her mouth, then tied so tightly behind her head that when it was removed it left a deep furrow in her skin.

With the ligature and gag off, facial photos were taken in the hope of having an artist reconstruct a likeness of the victim.

It would take someone with a good imagination
, Maulsby thought. She worried about becoming nauseous and making an embarrassing spectacle of herself. She maintained her composure by staying intently focused on everything being said by the pathologist, who explained each of the invasive procedures he performed in a dispassionate play-by-play narrative.

Her partner, Joe Dean, left the room early; to go to the crime scene while it was still light out, he said. It was a good out, one Maulsby would have liked to have thought of first. Instead, she made it her mission to learn every possible detail she could about the murder of Jane Doe.

As for the
rape-kit exam, pubic and scalp combings were taken and her fingernails were scraped, although no apparent debris was found underneath them. It was impossible to check for evidence of rape. The
vagina and cervix were completely gone, testimony to the fact that insects first attack available body openings.

Examining the victim’s head, the pathologist found a subdural hematoma 3 inches in diameter.

“She received a hard blow to the head before death,” he commented. “It wasn’t fatal, but it may have caused unconsciousness.”

The pathologist attempted to cut off the scalp intact, as requested by Streeter, but the condition of the deteriorating skin prevented its complete removal. Sections of the scalp were removed, however. The victim’s jaws and teeth were also removed so that her dental work could be X-rayed for identification purposes. Inked prints were taken of each foot and her hands were amputated above the wrist bone.

An internal examination revealed that Jane Doe had a healthy heart and other major organs, and no natural, preexisting conditions that had led to her demise. Toxicology results would come back negative for drugs and alcohol.

The pathologist estimated the victim’s age at between sixteen and twenty-one. She was 5-foot-3 and about 115 pounds. She’d been dead two to four weeks. The cause of death was listed as “ligature compression of the neck.”

“You know, the ligature was constructed so that it could be tightened and loosened with the stick,” said the pathologist, removing his soiled rubber gloves and stepping to a nearby sink. “It could have been tightened down until she blacked out, then released to bring her back.”

Maulsby tasted bile.

“You mean he could have
toyed
with her?”

The pathologist looked over his shoulder at Maulsby as if that thought hadn’t occurred to him.

“You could say so.”

“How long do you think—”

“No way of knowing,” the pathologist said, working up quite a lather with the disinfectant soap that momentarily overpowered some of the unpleasant odors in the room.

It was too dark to stop at the crime scene after the autopsy, so Maulsby and Dean headed directly back to Sacramento. They were both starving, neither had eaten since breakfast, but they were not tempted to stop. The smell from the autopsy room had permeated their clothes.

Maulsby returned first thing Monday morning to South Lake Tahoe, where she met El Dorado’s lead investigator in the case: Detective Jim Watson.

In his late thirties, Watson was a six-footer with a compact build, sandy hair, and ruggedly handsome features out of an L. L. Bean catalog. Although he had a pleasant personality and was considered easy to get along with, Watson was the conscientious type who went through the day exuding an intense commitment to complete whatever tasks had to be done. His okay-we’ve-talked-about-it-now-let’s-do-it attitude tended to brush slower-moving objects aside, although he usually managed to do so without offending or making waves.