Hunted: The Zodiac Murders (The Zodiac Serial Killer Book 1)

by Mark Hewitt

  Mageau described his attacker as between 26 and 30 years of age, five feet eight inches, and heavyset with a beefy, not muscular, build. He estimated that the man who shot him was between 195 and 200 pounds, but not blubbery fat. He had short, curly, light brown hair—almost blond. He wore a short-sleeve blue shirt, but Mageau could not tell whether it was light blue or dark blue. Because he only saw the face from a side view, he was unable to give useful specifics that would lead to the creation of a composite picture. He did note that his assailant had a large face with no facial hair and no glasses. The large face was the only unusual attribute he could recall. It was dark so he did not get a good look.

  When Rust pointed out that the police had discovered him with the car lights on, Mageau explained that Darlene had turned them on after the attack to draw attention to her emergency. He couldn’t remember if he had asked her to do so. She may have been flashing them for help. He may have been the one who flashed the lights, he admitted. He couldn’t recall.

  As the hospital interview wound down, Mageau added a few additional remarks. He said that he could think of no one who would want to do this to him. He didn’t think Darlene was a target, either. If Darlene had an enemy, she would have told him, he was certain. Petty jealousies were her only problems with other people.

  Michael Mageau descended into sleep, and Detective Rust quietly left his hospital room.

  A few weeks later, still in the hospital recuperating, Mageau would share additional details with the press. He explained that while the flashlight was first illuminated from within the strange car, causing them to believe that it was a police officer, the light was soon extinguished—only to be relit when the gunshots erupted and the man was standing beside him. The stranger’s headlights remained on throughout the attack. Mageau described the assailant’s vehicle, suggesting it could have been a 1958 or 1959 Ford Falcon, brown or bronze in color. Its body was similar in shape to Ferrin’s 1963 Corvair. This time, he explained that the attacker’s car had departed from the parking lot with speed enough to scatter gravel, but it did not burn rubber or squeal tires. This additional information, which later became part of a story in The San Francisco Chronicle in August, may not have been exactly correct, Mageau admitted. His nervousness and his weakness from a month in critical condition in an ICU made him uncertain about the specifics of his experience. He believed that what he shared was more of an impression.

  ***

  At 12:40 a.m., less than one hour after the sound of the gunshots, the telephone rang again at the Vallejo Police Station. The killer had not yet completed his evening of terror. Because the 911 emergency phone system had yet to be conceived of, the caller had dialed the operator and requested that his call be transferred to the police department. Nancy Slover answered, as she always did, “Vallejo Police Department.”

  The caller recited the following message:

  “I’d like to report a double murder. If you will go one mile on Columbus Parkway to the public park, you will find the kids in a brown car. I shot them with a Luger. I also killed those kids last Christmas. Good-bye.”

  According to one police report, the man started his words instead with, “I want to report a double murder…” Another quoted, “I called to report a double murder…”

  Slover, the young police dispatch operator who fielded both this call and the initial one about the shooting, later attempted to relate as much information about the conversation as she could for VPD Captain L. Wade Bird. She wrote out her description of the caller’s voice in detail, noting that she had heard no trace of an accent. It was even and consistent, soft but forceful. It was mature, and the caller did not stop until he had completed his message. When she tried to wrest from him additional information—she had said something like, “Yes, we have a reported shooting in that area. I still need your name and location.”—he merely spoke louder to cover her voice. She related that his words sounded as though they were read, or at very least, well-rehearsed. His voice struck her as monotone, completely devoid of any emotion. Years later, she would add that she could not detect any slurring from drug or alcohol intoxication.

  The sign-off was very troubling to the youthful dispatcher. His “good-bye” appeared to be a taunt drawn out in a deeper and slower voice. She would later describe the sound as eerie and lacking in feeling. When first spoken by the killer, it gave her chills. She was left with a “scary-type creepy feeling from the call.”

  Slover attempted to patch in the desk officer on duty. Though she connected the line, the caller hung up before anyone else could hear him. He dropped off suddenly, just as he had when attacking Mageau and Ferrin in the Blue Rock Springs parking lot. He disappeared as quickly and surely as he had after shooting Faraday and Jensen on Lake Herman Road the previous December.

  Upon receiving reports of the taunting call, the VPD set about finding its origin. Mrs. Johnson of Pacific Telephone and Telegraph (PT&T) contacted the VPD at 12:47 a.m. Betty Main, also of PT&T, had traced it to a pay telephone at Joe’s, a Union 76 service station located at the corner of Tuolumne Road and Springs Road. It was not far from downtown Vallejo; it was even closer to the Vallejo Police Station the man had called. Main’s supervisor forbade her from providing any statement to the police.

  Sergeant Conway rushed to the phone booth. He was met there by unit #122, Officers Agenbroad and Peach. But the caller had absconded. Conway patiently waited until ID Technician Waricher arrived to gather any evidence that the scene would yield.

  Sergeant Odiorne also visited the booth that night. After traveling to the hospital and learning that Ferrin was deceased, he had directed Waricher to the location. It was later confirmed that the Union 76 station had been closed at the time of the telephone call, having shuttered for business that evening at 8:25.

  ***

  The assailant and his victims were not the only witnesses to the shooting at Blue Rock Springs that night. The son of the park’s caretaker, 22-year-old George Ronald Bryant, who worked at the nearby Selby Smelter, was attempting to sleep at his home at the park, a mere 800 feet from the spot of the attack.

  Around midnight, after flipping over his pillow, he was lying on his stomach looking out the window in lieu of sleep. All the house lights were on. He heard the young people with their firecrackers as if foreshadowing the gunfire to come, but he could see nothing. He was then jolted by the sound of a gunshot, followed after a pause by another shot, then a series of rapid shots. These, he observed, were much louder than the firecrackers he had heard. A car exited the lot at what he described as “super speed,” with squealing tires that burned rubber. The July 6, 1969 edition of The Vallejo Times-Herald quoted a detective sergeant, “[Bryant] heard the car take off at a high rate of speed, peeling rubber and cutting corners.” Bryant was too far away to capture any visual details of the shooter or the car, and was uncertain of the direction the car departed.

  Initially, he believed that the shots were from more powerful, louder fireworks and took no action. He contacted the police less than 24 hours after the murder with the few details that he could provide, agreeing to accompany officers to the park to recreate the scene to the best of his ability the night after the attack.

  ***

  One victim dead, another seriously wounded and in critical condition. This unexpected and unexplained act of violence set in motion a police investigation that would in time engage the entire VPD, and draw it into contact with numerous other police departments throughout California, as well as the FBI in Sacramento, San Francisco, Los Angeles, and Washington, D.C. At first, it appeared a unique event, not connected to any other known crimes. That changed with the assailant’s telephone call. The brutality of the two Vallejo-area events, coupled with the possibility—or inevitability—of more carnage, mobilized the department. Investigation is the duty of law enforcement, and the VPD set about performing that task to the best of their ability. With great personal sacrifice, and the aid of the forensic technology of the day, the officer
s did an admirable job of collecting the scant evidence, amassing the facts, and running down many, many leads in the effort to preserve life and balance the scales of justice.

  At the scene, even before the arrival of the ambulance, Detectives Ed Rust and John Lynch were selected to head up the entire investigation. All aspects of the Sisyphean labor would be directed by, and coordinated though, these two dedicated professionals. They had no idea, as they settled into the work, of the personal and professional costs that this case would exact from them, or of the pitifully few answers that their years of work would produce.

  The scene was processed. Officers Cruz and Guerra made a detailed sketch of the area, which would provide an exact layout of the car and victims for anyone unable to visit the crime scene before it was dismantled. They captured an excellent representation of the park with its circular stone wall, precise measurements between Ferrin’s car and all relevant landmarks, and the exact location that Mageau was found as he struggled to survive on the gravel next to the vehicle.

  Fire Captain James O’Gara and Fireman Williams arrived with a fire unit to illuminate the area in a search for physical evidence. With the limits of technology of 1969, not much was found. By 2:00 a.m., with no additional results, the search was called off by Lieutenant Allbrighton. Darlene’s coupe was impounded and towed to the Vallejo Police Department by AAA to be dusted for prints and to retrieve any bullets or other evidence.

  Deputy Villarreal informed Rust that he had been at the scene just before midnight, and had observed a blue Ford Sedan parked near to where the Corvair eventually stopped. Because he had been summoned away on another call, Villarreal explained, he did not get a chance to speak to its occupants or observe anything else about the vehicle. He did not see Ferrin’s Corvair or any other car.

  A police unit was sent to notify Mageau’s parents of the shooting. No one was present at 864 Beechwood Avenue, the home of Michael and his father, when the unit arrived, even though the house lights were on, the television was blaring, and the front door unlocked. Michael, eager to spend time with Darlene, had apparently left in great haste. Another unit was dispatched to notify Dean Ferrin, Darlene’s husband, at the couple’s home, 1300 Virginia Street.

  At 2:35 a.m., Dean entered the Vallejo Police Station, accompanied by his employer, William “Bill” Leigh. Rust had arrived at the station at 1:15 a.m., after the officer had made a quick trip to the hospital and a visit to the phone booth used by the killer.

  Dean, who knew only that Darlene had been shot, became visibly distraught when he was gently told that his wife was dead. He related that he last saw her at about 10:30 p.m. when she left Caesar’s, 315 Tennessee Street, with her sister, Christine. The agenda she was following, according to Dean, called for her to drop her sister off at their parents’ home, deliver the babysitters to their homes, and then return home herself. She never had a chance to follow through on these plans.

  Leigh added that he spoke on the phone to Darlene at about 11:30 p.m. and requested that she find some fireworks for a party to be held at the Ferrin’s house once he and her husband were done with work. Darlene had agreed. When the two men finally arrived at Dean’s home at 1:30 a.m., Darlene was not there. Dean noted that he had received two “hang-up” telephone calls as they waited for her.

  Odiorne interviewed Christine at 3:15 that morning about her deceased sister. She corroborated the information that Ferrin and Leigh had shared. She added that she and her sister had also stopped at Terry’s, Darlene’s place of employment, on the way to 1300 Virginia Street. While there, Darlene had only interacted with a couple of her co-workers. Christine acknowledged that she knew Michael Mageau, but that she didn’t know anything specific about him.

  Later, in August, Christine described for the VPD a man who had once come to the door asking to speak with her sister. She estimated the stranger’s height at five feet eight inches, and his weight to be 165-170. He appeared to be around 30, with dark hair and casual clothing. He drove a late model, blue, hardtop Pontiac GTO. She had reported at that time that if she had heard his name, she couldn’t remember it. For Odiorne, she could offer no additional information about her sister, or anyone who would want her killed.

  Meanwhile, at the Twin Chapel Funeral Home, Dr. Shirai removed two copper-jacketed slugs from the lifeless body of Darlene Ferrin, one from her right second rib, the other from between the left seventh and eighth ribs. He marked these and personally passed them on to the VPD which was tasked with collecting all relevant evidence. The skilled Contra Costa County Pathologist conducted the autopsy, concluding that any of the four bullets that struck her—two that had passed through her and two that were removed from her—could have been fatal. Once shot, she never had a chance.

  At 8:00 the morning after the attack, Sparks lifted two partial prints from the right door handle of Ferrin’s car. He was preparing to do the work at 4:45 a.m., but was interrupted by Allbrighton who told him that he could go home for a couple hours of sleep and return to the work later in the morning.

  He also collected two additional slugs, one from the driver’s side door and the other from the back of the driver’s seat. These were tagged and placed in the evidence locker. Two weeks later, VPD Captain Bird sent all the gathered slugs and shell casings by registered mail, #41991, to Sacramento to be reviewed by the California Department of Justice, specifically the CII.

  Rust and Lynch returned to the crime scene at 6:55 in the morning, hoping to find evidence missed by previous searches. They found none. While they scoured the lot, Darlene’s sister, Linda Doris Del Buono, arrived with her husband, Steven. She provided the detectives with the names of a few of Darlene’s closest friends.

  Ferrin’s other sister, Pamela, would later offer the police an intriguing lead. On August 18, she told VPD Sergeant Jack Mulinax that while babysitting for Darlene several months before her sister’s death she had received an unusual telephone call from a man asking to speak with Darlene. Pamela thought his name was David, but this may have been fed to her by the officer. The strange caller demanded to meet with Darlene as soon as possible. Upon hearing of the call, Darlene told her sister that she wanted nothing to do with the man, and to just forget it. She never elaborated on her relationship with the caller, nor explained her desire for distance from him.

  Detective Rust gathered the two girls who were the Ferrin’s babysitters for the evening of the attack, having learned of their identities from Bill Leigh, Dean’s employer. Pamela, aged 15, and her 14-year-old friend, Janet, met him at 6:45 p.m., July 6, in room 16 of the Vallejo Police Station. With their protective fathers present, the two girls reported their experiences.

  Pamela was the actual babysitter of Darlene’s daughter, 18-month-old Deena. This was the first time she had sat for the Ferrins, though she had met Darlene prior to that night. Janet had joined her only to keep her company during the evening. The two girls had been picked up at 7:00 p.m. by Darlene’s father. Christine was along for the ride. The sisters left the Ferrin home at 7:45 p.m., telling the two girls that they were going to the festivities downtown and that they would be back at 10:00 p.m. Darlene explained that when she returned she was going to go to San Francisco. She did not tell them with whom or why. When Darlene called the house around 9:00 p.m., she was told of a phone call she had received from a female—and was instructed to go to Terry’s Restaurant. Darlene returned home at 11:30 p.m. or shortly before, according to the girls. She now said that she was not going to San Francisco, but would host a small party later that night when her husband got home. She announced that she was leaving to buy fireworks, and would be back by 12:30 a.m. After cleaning up the house a little, she left at 11:40 p.m. That was the last time the girls saw her.

  At approximately 1:30 a.m., according to the babysitters, Dean Ferrin arrived home with some friends. He wasn’t worried about his wife’s absence, explaining that “she’s always late.” Dean took the girls home shortly before 2:00 a.m., and was apparently going right back h
ome. The babysitters could add nothing more to the investigation, and said that they were not close to Darlene. Both were thanked for their assistance.

  Another babysitter of the Ferrins, a girl named Karen, provided a provocative statement when she met with investigators. Though Karen was not present on the night of the attack, she related her experience of sitting for Darlene and Dean on a previous occasion. She reported that while babysitting for them in February or March of that year—they were living at 560 Wallace at the time—she looked out of the window at about 10:00 p.m. and noticed a Caucasian man sitting in a white American sedan. She observed that he remained in place for a couple of hours, but had left by the time Dean returned home, shortly after midnight. Karen estimated the man to be middle-aged. She had only gotten a glimpse of him when he either lit a cigarette or illuminated an interior light.

  Karen shared this information with Darlene the next night as her employer put on makeup in the bathroom, Karen told the investigators. Darlene had responded, “I guess he’s checking up on me. I heard he was back from out of state. He doesn’t want anyone to know what I saw him do. I saw him murder someone.” Karen heard a short name, possibly with only three or four letters, and a last name that was nearly as short. She could not reproduce it for the investigators. Karen recalled that Darlene seemed genuinely fearful of this man, who had evidently also checked up on her at Terry’s Restaurant.

  The officers were intrigued by this lead. They suggested that Karen be hypnotized in an attempt to recover any hidden memories of the man. When they approached a hypnotist, they inquired as to whether the short name could be recovered, or any additional information about this man who may have attended a painting party at the Ferrin’s residence in May of 1969. The hypnotist was equivocal about the likelihood of success.