by Mark Hewitt
Nicolai’s 35-page report for California’s Department of Justice, dated April 29, 1970, tallied the progress of the case. Suspect names had been provided by citizens, by various institutions, and by law enforcement and military agencies. There was no shortage of suspects. Modus operandi files, records from oil companies—sales receipts from September 27, 1969 gas purchases—and CHP citations had all been collected and studied. What the comprehensive document could not share was the resolution to the case; the elusive perpetrator remained at large, “Combined efforts by law enforcement agencies have failed to uncover the identity of the ‘Zodiac’ killer.”
On October 29, the FBI Latent Fingerprint Section sent a note to its San Francisco Field Office reporting on the latent fingerprints gathered from the Stine crime scene. Of the prints, 30 were latent fingerprints, 3 were latent palm prints, and 1 was a latent impression (a fingerprint from the lower joint area of a finger or a palm print). One of the latent fingerprints matched those of Paul Stine, collected after his death. The others were not identified with any suspects. Impressions of lower joint areas of the fingers and palm prints were not contained in Identification Division files because they were not routinely collected when fingerprint cards were created in the 1960s. The latent impressions were preserved on three photographs.
On October 30, Earl Randol, Sheriff of Napa County, sent FBI Director J. Edgar Hoover a radiogram requesting an analysis of another suspect. The FBI replied on November 5 to confirm and supplement a radiogram reply of October 31 regarding the work sheet prepared the same day. Once again, no fingerprint match, and no palm prints available. However, the person referred to by FBI may or may not have been the same person as requested, the report cautioned.
The next day, Jack E. Stiltz, Chief of Police of the VPD, wrote Hoover, requesting that the FBI check yet another suspect against collected fingerprints in the case. The reply on November 12 was predictable and familiar. The sets of latent prints were not identical, and palm prints from the suspect were unavailable. The work sheet of November 7 revealed the same. No match.
That same day, the FBI reported back to its San Francisco Field Office what their tests regarding two suspects—one from St. Paul, Minnesota, the other from Brady, Texas—had concluded. Available prints did not match any prints from the Zodiac files, and palm prints from the suspects were unavailable. The tests had been requested four days prior by the San Francisco FBI Field Office, were conducted the next day, and the results were also passed on to the NPD so that it was made aware at the same time as the FBI’s San Francisco Field Office.
The FBI in San Francisco requested a comparison for two additional suspects on November 3. Though there was confusion about one of the suspects—whether the man named was the same person whose prints were compared—the reply came the next day: no match and no palm prints on file. Four more suspects were named on November 6, one apparently offered up by an eight-year-old. The comparisons were done on November 7.
On November 10, the FBI was notified by its San Francisco office that a military man had been AWOL since the last Zodiac killing (of Paul Stine, October 11), and had been absent from his base at the time of each of the previous murders. So crucial was this lead that the San Francisco FBI Field Office ordered that the man’s prints be sent by direct flight from Washington, D.C. to San Francisco. The prints made it aboard a TWA flight, and the envelope had to be passed between captains during a crew change in Kansas City. A representative of the FBI San Francisco Field Office met the plane at the airport to retrieve the prized prints.
In response to victim Hartnell’s report that his assailant at Lake Berryessa had claimed two weeks earlier to be a prison escapee from Montana, the FBI expanded its search to include that northern region of the country. Hartnell followed events and offered assistance from his hospital bed. In an effort to identify the person who may have come from Montana, the San Francisco FBI Field Office petitioned Washington, D.C. on November 6 to contact the Butte, Montana Field Office to investigate. In particular, San Francisco wanted to know whether there was a prison fugitive who may or may not have murdered a prison guard during his escape. Since Hartnell was not expected to survive his ordeal, perhaps the assailant was telling the truth about his past, it was reasoned. It appeared to be an investigative lead with great potential, and the FBI meant to follow it. A copy of the composite photo that was created subsequent to the attack at Lake Berryessa was also furnished to the FBI in Washington, D.C.
Butte was finally given the needed authority to pursue the matter on November 13. The Bureau there was authorized to investigate mental institutions and prisons, and also to contact local police officers and sheriff’s offices in any city advisable in an attempt to develop a suspect or suspects.
Its Field Office in San Francisco provided three new suspects to the FBI in Washington, D.C. on November 13. In its communication, San Francisco changed the title to “Zodiac” because that was the name the perpetrator gave to himself. It was by this time the only moniker used in the press, shared among law enforcement services, and discussed in casual conversation, so compelling and ominous was the label. One week later, Washington, D.C. responded to the request, sharing from its work sheet filled out the day after the tip, that no match existed for two of the three suspects, one born in Los Angeles, the other in Troy, New York. Yet again, the elusive palm prints were not available for comparison. No prints of any kind were found for the third suspect.
Meanwhile, the SFPD kept a wary eye on crimes committed in the Bay Area with the hopes that the Zodiac might make a mistake. In one promising event, David Odell Martin was shot and killed on November 21 by Officer Thomas Burns, an SFPD sharpshooter, at Martin’s residence following a family altercation. Martin’s wife, Geraldine, had run from the house, screaming, “He’s gone crazy. He’s going to kill us.” Martin, who had refused to work the previous five years and was a known barbiturate and amphetamine user, injured his 11-year-old daughter when he pressed an eight-inch circular saw blade against her throat, and pricked his wife’s neck repeatedly with a knife and a broken Coke bottle. Burns gained entry to the home through a shattered basement window and terminated Martin with a .38 handgun. Though he died proclaiming he was the Zodiac, Martin was cleared through fingerprint examination and other evidence.
On November 24, the FBI contacted the Office of the Provost Marshal in San Francisco in response to a letter earlier that month stating that a Sergeant had threatened a Gunnery Sergeant. The FBI requested that the office check to see if the Sergeant had written any threatening notes. This was but another in a long string of dead ends. The handwriting samples that were eventually collected failed to yield anything, with no connection to the Zodiac writing noted whatsoever.
***
The Zodiac’s action of selecting a victim from a high-profile, well-populated location—and adding Metropolitan San Francisco to his hit list—had set in motion a massive investigation. The SFPD was far more experienced in tracking killers and better able to financially support a sustained effort. Armstrong and Toschi were described by Chronicle reporter Paul Avery as being “head and shoulders” above the other investigators—he could not praise them too highly, he admitted. However, the additional attention and resources would enter the case with a steep cost.
The murders had now awakened public interest, not merely in the North Bay but throughout the Bay Area, around the state, and across the country. With the release of the composite pictures of the Zodiac that were created after Stine’s murder, the floodgates of citizen assistance opened. Public participation became a deluge swamping every police department working on the case. The good, well-intended citizens now provided a tsunami of tips, suspects, theories, and even the weakest pieces of circumstantial evidence against a multitude of improbable suspects. The agencies were overwhelmed. Special Agent Mel Nicolai of the California Department of Justice observed, “Everybody had an idea of who it might be.”
A 41-year-old Chicago mystic, hairdresser, and p
sychic, named Joseph, who claimed that he had accurately predicted Senator Edward Kennedy’s car accident and the identity of Sharon Tate’s killers, told The Vallejo Times-Herald that he was receiving mental transmissions from the Zodiac. He believed that the perpetrator did not want to kill again. According to the psychic, the Zodiac was transmitting that the thrill was over, and that he wanted peace. The image the spiritual man received of the Zodiac was that of an elusive, malnourished man, five feet eight inches tall, 135 to 145 pounds, with silky dark brown hair worn in pompadour which he combed forward as part of his disguise. The tipster, who also contacted the San Francisco press, believed that the perpetrator had possessions in a box, that when he felt and saw them hideous things began to happen.
On November 17, Adrian and Darlene approached the VPD. At 11:00 p.m. they reported on a suspect, named Edmund, who was 20 years of age and resembled the composite from San Francisco. According to the couple, Edmund acted strangely, and had access to guns from his father. He lived with an aunt, and had been booked at the Benicia County Jail (BCJ), so his photograph and fingerprints should be available, they believed. While pursuing this lead, investigators found that the suspect had not been booked at the BCJ, but he did have a registered Browning 9mm automatic, serial #T182411, on which the VPD committed itself to make a further check.
Sandra and her girlfriend, Margo, entered the Vallejo Police Station on June 7, 1970. They reported that on the previous night at 10:00 or 10:30 p.m. they were at the Coronado Inn on Highway 37 and had seen a man who appeared to be acting strangely. They thought he resembled the composite picture of the Zodiac. Sandra, who had observed him for a period of time, described him as a white male, approximately 32 years of age, with brown hair receding to the middle of his head and a bald spot. She estimated that he was five feet eleven inches and 180 pounds, had hazel eyes, and wore glasses that had dark brown frames. For clothing, he wore a nylon sweatshirt with short sleeves, dark pants, and black shoes that appeared to be military issue because they were extremely shiny.
The women noted his effeminate actions: he held his glass with his fingers extended in a feminine way and he walked in a “swayback manner.” When she danced with him, Sandra learned that his name was Paul, and that he was stationed in Vallejo. He was evasive in his answers to her, but shared that his favorite song was “Proud Mary.” He knew that the band had also played at that venue two months earlier. As all three left the Coronado Inn at 1:00 a.m., and Sandra observed that he drove a small, black car, possibly a Corvette. When shown composite pictures from the Stine attack, Margo said that it looked like Paul.
“That’s him!” Sandra declared. She promised to contact the VPD if he returned to the Coronado Inn. She provided a picture of the suspect that she had drawn on the back of a photograph.
Sandra telephoned the VPD nine days later to say that she had spotted the black vehicle, and that it was parked on the 500 block of Capitol Street. It was a Volkswagen Karmann Ghia with Florida plates. Further investigation revealed that the VW was registered to a Chief Electrician’s mate, named Paul, assigned to the Naval Inactive Ship Maintenance Facility on Mare Island since March of 1969. Inspector Monez of the Mare Island Investigative Division assured the VPD that they could talk with Paul, or meet him if necessary.
On June 17, 1970, a woman received a letter in the mail with two Oakland A’s baseball tickets. Wrapped with the tickets was a note stating, “GIFT FROM ZODIAC.” There was a slight similarity between the writing on the paper and the printing on the Zodiac letters. By the time VPD Sergeant George Bawart retained the letter, it had been handled by three other people.
***
While enthusiastic citizens from across the country flooded the professionals tasked with bringing a murderer to justice—forcing them to follow up on every credible lead, however unlikely—the killer changed his tactics. For some reason, following the murder of the cab driver and the release of the Stine letter, the Zodiac serial killer transformed himself into something quite different than what he had previously revealed to the public. The police were initially unaware of his new face. They continued to follow up on all of the new tips, tracking down people who fit the description of what the public thought the killer must look and act like. As Armstrong and Toschi looked back, scrutinizing past attacks and letters; seeking help from psychiatrists, astrologers (due to the name, the “Zodiac”), and handwriting experts; and distributing the composite photos statewide, the killer was looking forward. He emerged as a moving target.
Long before the investigators realized it, the killer had reinvented himself.
7 | TRANSFORMATION
“So I shall change”
The Bay Area’s most infamous murderer now directed his attention to writing. Following the October murder of cabby Paul Stine, his future attacks—if in fact there were any more—would take a back seat to his campaign of correspondence. His need to instill fear would be expressed not through brutal violence as it had been in the past but through the written word in a series of cards, letters, and notes, each artfully designed to taunt, brag, and menace. Whether due to the threat of nearly being apprehended in San Francisco, some form of psychological unraveling, or a combination of the two, the Zodiac morphed from a violent criminal who repeatedly attacked and sent a few strange letters to a cerebral terrorist who sent many written communications and committed few more, if any, strange attacks.
Though the killer had sent numerous letters prior to the murder of the cab driver, all but one of these was part of a group of nearly-identical notes directed to multiple recipients. Consequently, only four unique mailings were sent prior to October 1969: the Confession letters (two copies), the Bates letters (three copies), the 3-Part letters (three in all), and the More Material letter. The latter was the first note that was not copied, but rather sent to one unique location.
After killing Stine, the Zodiac sent many more—and more kinds of—mailings, including lengthy letters, quick notes, greeting cards, and possibly a couple of postcards, totaling as many as a dozen. Never again would he send a letter in multiple copies to more than one recipient.
During the same period, the killer of 5 innocent victims in four separate forays was responsible for few, if any, additional incidents of violence. There would be no trace of his blitz-style attacks or of his hasty departures. The attacks commonly attributed to the Zodiac in his post-Stine phase so disregarded his tried-and-true blueprint that investigators were left to wonder whether he actually attacked or killed anyone after October 1969.
While not unknown, it is rare for a serial killer to cease from the act of killing without the intervention of death, capture, or some form of unrelated incarceration. Generally speaking, serial killers continue to murder if at all possible. When a police department encounters the end of a serial-killing sequence without an arrest, law enforcement suspects that the perpetrator is dead, in prison on an unrelated crime, or has moved to a more fertile jurisdiction. Temporary incarceration serves only to heighten the anticipation of renewed killing once the serial killer is released. Even the onset of illness, the challenge of unsettling life events, and the pressures of an active investigation usually offer only a short respite from the murderous intent.
There is no good reason that a serial killer cannot cease from the activity of murder. Perhaps he or she can move beyond the behavior just as the prankster can outgrow his immaturity. Maybe he or she can stop killing in much the same way a hunter of wild game or a career criminal can “age out” and switch to other, more sedate pastimes. Though few, there are examples of serial killers who stopped.
Dennis Rader, convicted in 2005 for ten murders committed between 1974 and 1991 as the BTK (Bind, Torture, Kill) serial killer, is a rarity. He ceased for 13 years before reestablishing contact with the Wichita Police Department (WPD), in Kansas. By that time the case had gone very cold. While no additional murders were attributed to him after that long hiatus, he did threaten to murder again, and may have been in the planning s
tages of selecting his next unwitting victims when he was finally captured by the WPD. He was at least contemplating a return to his deadly activity, which for more than a decade lay dormant.
If the Zodiac stopped killing, his action like that of the BTK was exceptional. His continued correspondence to news outlets would prove to investigators that like Rader he was not dead, was not incarcerated, and had not permanently left the area. In future communications he would claim many more victims—the last apparent total in a 1974 letter was 37—but after Stine not a single additional death could be conclusively linked to him.
Any examination of the Zodiac’s later activity, that which followed the October 1969 murder of Paul Stine, is therefore a study of numerous letters, pitted with a couple of attacks he may or may not have perpetrated. He claimed that he had not ceased killing, promising merely to change the way he operated.
He declared in his 6-Page letter of November, 1969 that all future murders would be staged to look like something else—and he promised not to announce his future victims. Either this was a clever, face-saving strategy to stop killing while leaving the police to forever wonder whether an unusual death could be his responsibility or he did continue to kill—and was never unquestionably tied to any of these well-concealed murders. Either way, his new strategy was unusual and noteworthy.
However it happened, and for whatever reason it happened, a change occurred sometime between the killing of Paul Stine and the writing of the 6-Page letter, which was received the following month. Though some major alterations to the killer’s methods were evidenced prior to October 11, 1969, such as with the More Material letter in August, the killer penned the first of many letters that would not be copied and sent to more than one location. He also changed weapons from one crime to the next. By the time he had written the longest handwritten communication of his criminal career, the 6-Page letter in November of the same year, a major metamorphosis was complete.
