by Mark Hewitt
***
The detectives applied a great deal of time and energy to the investigation of Ricky Allen Burton. They did so because Betty Lou’s mother had identified him as a person who “bugged” her daughter, because interviews with his peers had indicated that he was somewhat odd, because as a former boyfriend—and possible jilted lover—he had a motive to harm his former girlfriend and her new beau, but mostly because the police had so few good leads to pursue. David and Betty Lou were by all accounts good kids. They had no enemies, and none of their actions appeared to have invited their attacker’s wrath.
But Ricky was easily eliminated from suspicion. He possessed an unimpeachable alibi: at the time of the killings, he was in the presence of his family and some family friends, including a Mare Island military police officer. The investigators nevertheless thoroughly examined Ricky’s movements the day of the attack until they were fully satisfied that he was in no way responsible for the murders.
The lead investigators first met with Ricky on Saturday morning just after 11:00. Because Betty Lou’s parents had identified him as a person who bugged Betty Lou while she was attending school, the officers decided to advise him of his Constitutional Rights. It had been legally necessary since a Supreme Court ruling in 1966. The officers didn’t want to risk having key pieces of evidence thrown out of court, should Ricky make any self-incriminating statements. The so-called Miranda warning advised him of his rights under the Fifth Amendment of the Constitution of the United States of America, that he had the right to remain silent, that what he said if he did speak could be used against him in a court of law, and that he had a right to an attorney—one would be provided to him if he could not afford his own. That relatively recent ruling was not yet a part of popular culture, so Ricky could not be expected to be familiar with it, but in any case, it was required to legitimize their interrogation of him. Ricky said that he understood his rights and wanted to speak with them so that he could aid the investigation in any way possible.
The 16-year-old told the officers that he “went with” Betty Lou for two weeks. He spoke to her on the telephone often, the last time being Thursday afternoon, about 4:30. He had not attended school that day and had called her to find out what had occurred in his absence. He had also inquired about her weekend plans.
Concerning Friday, December 20, the date of the attack, he said that after school he visited his sister’s house in Vallejo where he remained from about 4:15 to 5:00 p.m. His mother picked him up and brought him home afterwards. He had a TV dinner for supper. He went to the Gallenkamp’s store between 7:00 and 7:15 p.m., and then returned home again for the night.
At home that evening, he watched the 1964 movie called A Global Affair starring Bob Hope, he told the officers. Also present for the viewing of the film were his mother, his father, his sister, his brother-in-law, and a father-and-son pair, who were friends of his father. Ricky reported that the movie lasted until approximately 10:45 p.m. His father, now living separately from his mother, left the gathering at 10:55 p.m.; his father’s friend and his son—also named Ricky—left around 10:55 p.m. as well. His brother-in-law, Larry, remained behind and chatted with his wife, Ricky’s sister Janette, until they left around 11:30 p.m.
Ricky stated that when he went to bed, only he, his sister Diane, and his mother were present at the house. He climbed into bed around 11:30 p.m. as his radio played. He awoke at 8:30 a.m. Saturday morning. He was not aware of the shooting until his mother called him at his job at the family business, Sylvia’s Auto Wreckers, after she had heard from the officers who were now interviewing him. Ricky explained that he earned two dollars per week in allowance, provided that he worked in the yard and cleaned up the laundry room. He was not allowed to go out at night after 9:00 p.m., especially on weeknights. He did not usually go out on weekends, he added.
Upon further questioning, the officers learned that Ricky’s mother owned a maroon-colored Grand Prix, which he did not drive. He admitted that he had had problems with the law when he was caught burgling the previous summer, for which he had been assigned to a probation officer. He recommended that the detectives speak to his friend, Darryl, who lived on Cherrywood Street.
Lundblad and Butterbach had already spoken with Ricky’s mother, Mrs. Mary R. Burton, at 9:30 that morning. They had contacted her after hearing what Betty Lou’s parents had said about Ricky. She had informed the detectives that her son was with his father at Sylvia’s Auto Wreckers on Napa Road. In attempting to detail her son’s whereabouts the previous evening, she had recounted his activities almost exactly the same as they would later hear from him: he had of been let out of school at 3:00 p.m., went to his sister Debby’s home until about 4:00 p.m., returned home at 5:00 p.m., and went to Gallenkamp’s to be fitted for a new pair of shoes that were to be a present to him from his brother-in-law. When he returned home from Gallenkamp’s, he remained home all evening. Those who spent the evening with him—celebrating his sister’s birthday with cake and coffee—were his father; his mother; his sister, Diane; his sister, Janette; Janette’s husband, Larry; and two family friends. Together, they watched A Global Affair with Bob Hope, a movie that ran from 9:00 p.m. to 11:00 p.m. Ricky’s mother reported that her estranged husband had left at 10:55 p.m.; the family friend subsequently left at the end of the program. Ricky had gone to sleep at 11:30 p.m.
To confirm the story they had received from both Ricky and his mother, the detectives interviewed Ricky’s father, Donald, on December 28 at noon. He essentially reiterated what Lundblad and Butterbach had already heard, that he was present at his estranged wife’s house on December 20 to celebrate his daughter’s birthday. He explained that his own birthday was on December 22, so the gathering was actually a joint party. When he arrived at 7:00 p.m., his son, Ricky; his daughter Janette; and his son-in-law Larry were there already. His friend from Mare Island, and his son, also named Ricky, arrived later. Ricky Burton received a call about 8:00 or 8:30 p.m. After this, there were no calls, and no one came to the house that evening, Mr. Burton reported. They enjoyed cake, coffee, and a Bob Hope special, A Global Affair, on television.
Mr. Burton did not like the show, and left before it was over, at an estimated 10:15 or 10:30 p.m., he thought. He told the officers that he was the first to leave. He added a few items of note. Ricky did not own a gun, nor did he have access to one. He wasn’t allowed to drive, even though he was entirely capable of doing so. Mr. Burton eagerly gave the detectives verbal permission for his son to be polygraphed. At the conclusion of the interview, he expressed his concern for a newspaper article that appeared to mention his son, though, admittedly, it did not name him.
To further confirm the story, the next day at 4:30 p.m., Butterbach and Lundblad questioned the friend of Ricky’s father, who was a police sergeant with the Mare Island military security force. The sergeant confirmed for them that he was a guest at the Burton home on December 20. He had been invited with a telephone call for cake and coffee. He had also received a note from Mr. Burton, but had not seen it until after receiving the telephone call that invited him. He attended with his son, Ricky, and arrived at the Burton residence just after 8:00 p.m. Donald and his wife were present. So were their daughter Diane, their daughter Janette, and her husband Larry. Ricky Burton, the apparent suspect in Betty Lou’s murder, was definitely present, the sergeant insisted.
The sergeant confirmed earlier reports that they watched “Global Affair” with Bob Hope on channel 5, from 9:00 p.m. to 10:45 p.m. There were no phone calls; there were no visitors. At no point while he was there did Ricky leave the room for more than a couple of minutes. He reported that he left with his son 5 or 10 minutes after the show was over. Mr. Burton had departed about 30 minutes earlier. When he and his son left, he noted, Mrs. Burton, Larry, Janette, Diane, and Ricky were still there. He observed that Ricky Burton had been sitting on a chair, later moving to the couch. He had no knowledge of any guns in the house. He estimated his departure at between 10:50 and 10:55 p
.m.
The investigation into Ricky Burton seemed to have run its course. The detectives were convinced of his strong alibi for the evening of the double murder that they were investigating. But if he wasn’t responsible, they wondered, who was?
***
At a quarter past 8:00 the morning after the murders, Lundblad and Butterbach took a statement from James A. Owen, a local resident who had read a story about the shooting in the newspaper, and had contacted the Sheriff’s Office. Owen, a retired Air Force enlistee who was an employee of Humble Oil in Benicia, had been driving to work the previous evening for his graveyard shift when, at 11:20 p.m. he estimated, he passed the entrance to the pumping station. He observed two cars parked side by side, about 10 feet apart. His description of the station wagon—a 1955 or 1956 boxy wagon with neutral colors—matched the Faraday vehicle. The other car was to the right and abreast of the station wagon, which the officers surmised must have belonged to the attacker or attackers. Owen could provide little information about the other vehicle, except that it was dark in color with no apparent chrome. It was mid-sized, neither large nor compact. He saw no other people or activity in the area.
The officers reviewed Owen’s movements of the night. He was certain that he left home at 11:00 p.m. The trek from his home to the scene of the crime would have taken him 19 minutes. His clock was observed to be 5 minutes fast. Together, these facts would place him at the scene of the crime at precisely 11:14 p.m., just a few minutes before Medeiros would discover the bodies beside pools of blood, making him the second eyewitness to provide a bookend to a very narrow window of opportunity for a double murder.
Owen advised the officers to speak with one of his co-workers who also worked the graveyard shift, who lived in the apartments at the end of Springs Road. He may have seen the cars as well. When Butterbach telephoned Owen the next evening, however, the officer learned that Owen had already spoken to his co-worker, and the co-worker had not driven to work via Lake Herman Road the previous night.
Intrigued by the importance of what Owen had seen, Butterbach and Lundblad re-interviewed him on the day before Christmas, just after noon. He again told them that he had seen two cars parked at the entrance to the pumping station on the previous Friday night. This time, he added that he may also have heard the sounds of the attack. Driving east from Vallejo, after having left home at approximately 11:00 p.m., he said he noticed two vehicles parked 3 to 4 feet apart—closer than the 10 feet apart he claimed the day after the attack—sitting side by side. He observed no one in or around the cars. As he drove past, about one quarter of a mile beyond the gate 10 entrance, he thought he heard a shot even though his car radio was playing softly. He added that another vehicle had passed him just before he arrived at the location of the attack. The other car was driving in the opposite direction toward Vallejo. Unfortunately for the investigation, Owen could provide no description of the vehicle that had passed him on Lake Herman Road.
The detectives could only speculate about the witness’s changing story. Was he embellishing his memory with a repeated recounting of his experience to his friends and family? Why did the distance between the cars narrow over the course of a few days? Did he manufacture the memory of the sound of the gunshot?
Approximately 24 hours after the attack, Officer G. Meyring, #298 of the Vallejo Police Department (VPD), entered the Solano County Sheriff’s Office with some potentially important information for Butterbach. He repeated what he had heard from a Vallejo resident, a 14-year-old boy named Stan. The boy and a friend, a student from Solano College, were driving toward Blue Rock Springs on Columbus Parkway the previous night. The two had noticed that two cars, a blue 1963 Chevy Impala with two occupants and a blue, 2-door, hard-top Oldsmobile 88, had turned off Lake Herman Road onto Columbus Parkway, heading in the direction of Blue Rock Springs.
Because the time stated was 10:30 p.m., more than 30 minutes before the attack commenced, this sighting was in all probability inconsequential to the investigation. Nevertheless, this information, like everything else, was filed away for future reference. The investigators knew that criminals sometimes injected themselves into a case, or provided false information to give themselves an alibi, so the details of this report—including information on the two who reported it—were carefully recorded.
At 4:30 on Sunday afternoon, December 22, Lundblad and Butterbach interviewed a man who felt that he might have important information about the crime. William Crow had read a plea in the local newspaper asking for witnesses to come forward. He called the Solano County Sheriff’s Office to describe his experience.
The report, written up some time later, noted that Crow and his girlfriend were in the area of the crime scene between 9:30 and 10:00 p.m. on the Friday night that Faraday and Jensen were murdered. Crow was testing his girlfriend’s car and adjusting the motor. While they were parked by the pumping station entrance precisely where the murders occurred, a blue car, possibly a Plymouth Valiant, drove west down Lake Herman Road from Benicia toward Vallejo.
The blue car stopped in the middle of the road, the report continued, after just having passed Crow and his girlfriend. The car’s reverse lights came on and began to back up toward them. Fearing a confrontation—the car appeared to pose some kind of threat—Crow took off with his girlfriend at his side. He raced east toward tiny Benicia followed by the strange blue car driving at a high rate of speed. The other car did not gain on them. When Crow turned off into Benicia, the strange vehicle proceeded straight ahead.
When exposed to the report many years later, Crow was surprised at what he read. Apparently, the officers had not heard him correctly, or had failed to accurately record what he had told them, he maintained.
He highlighted the few omissions and errors that he perceived. The girl was merely a friend, and not a girlfriend, he explained. Though he knew the sheriff who wrote the report, Crow noted that the officer never shared his writings with him, nor followed up on it with a later interview or any additional investigation. No one interviewed his friend even once about the odd event. Additionally, the reporting officer used the word “they” to describe the occupant(s) of the other vehicle, but should have used the more correct “he.”
Crow denied saying that there was only one person in the car. What he reported was that he was unable to see whether the driver was alone. It was dark out, and the area provided no artificial illumination. He could not see into the passenger side of the car. He had said that he had seen a Caucasian driver, only noting that it was someone he did not recognize. He had not seen him long enough—just a couple of seconds at most—to get a good look at him. (Accordingly, he declined the chance to review suspect photographs many years later, insisting that the exercise would be fruitless.)
Further, the word, “Valiant” was not used by Crow at the time of the attack and the subsequent interview. What he had shared with the officers, he claimed, was that he observed round brake lights that came on once the vehicle had passed them at the pump house entrance. That word was the reporting officer’s interpretation of what Crow had said, he surmised. The officer must have been aware of the shape of Valiant taillights to interject that.
Crow, still living only a few miles from the site many years later, admitted to periodically visiting the crime scene. He remained convinced that he had encountered the assailant. The time, place, and menacing stance of the blue car all led him to believe that the driver soon returned and carried out the dastardly attack on Faraday and Jensen.
Late Sunday afternoon, Lundblad and Butterbach were at the Faraday residence, 1930 Sereno Drive, in Vallejo, to meet with Joe, a friend of David’s. The Faraday home was large for Vallejo in 1968, consisting of numerous rooms on a single level spread across an oversized lot. Joe was direct: he knew of no one who considered David an enemy. He then described for the officers how David had met Betty Lou about a week previous at the Pythian Castle. (The Pythian Castle in Vallejo was the home of Lodge #7 of the Knights of Pythias, an interna
tional, non-sectarian fraternal order, established in 1864 It was the first fraternal order to be chartered by an Act of Congress, formed to heal the Civil War wounds between the North and the South, promote amity, and relieve suffering.) The couple became acquainted while decorating the hall for a social event, a meeting that sparked a mutual interest, led to a budding relationship, and ultimately resulted in two deaths. Joe reported that on Friday, December 20, the young couple was with him at the house of a friend named Daniel (one police report identified him as “David,” obviously confusing his name with that of the murder victim’s). David and Betty Lou arrived at about five o’clock, and did not say where they were headed when they left about an hour later.
Concerning Ricky Burton, Joe was very dismissive. He told the officers that their suspect was just a big talker with no close friends. The officers would later learn that Ricky was alleged to have told Daniel that he had his mother’s car and was going out Friday night. They found no evidence from Joe to support this.
Joe was thanked for his time as the officers turned their attention to Mrs. Jean L. Faraday, David’s mother, who worked in the Passenger Reservations Department at Travis Air Force Base. She told the officers that she did not know, nor had she ever met, Betty Lou. The girl had only been dating her son for a very short time, she explained. She also did not know of any enemies that her son may have had. She recounted the final hours of her son’s life for the officers.
On the night of the attack, she recalled, at 7:10 her son had driven his sister, Debbie, to a meeting of the Rainbow Girls, a masonic organization, which was held at a rented room at the Pythian Castle on Sonoma Boulevard. He returned at 7:20, only to depart again ten minutes later. She had given him $1.55, all in quarters and dimes. (Based on the crime scene details, evidently 70 cents had been spent, stolen, or misplaced between the time David received this gift from his mother and the 85 cents had been recovered from his lifeless body.)
