Zodiac Cracked: The Manifestation of a Killer

by Marianne Koerfer

  The question remains, “Did Zodiac actually kill all of the victims he claimed in his letters?” As none of the murders he took credit for have been solved, and he provided some detailed information about the crimes, it certainly seems possible that from Cheri Jo Bates to Paul Stine, he committed all of the acts. If one of the police agencies involved had solved just one of the murders, Zodiac’s credibility would have been destroyed, but this has not happened … yet.

  The investigators who followed up on all leads and spent many years thinking about and sorting out the facts of the Zodiac case may have moved in closer to Warren Estes, the suspect I feel is the true Zodiac killer, if they had been allowed more manpower and time to get onto the astronomy path and concentrate on Riverside for a while. But these investigators had to somehow keep up with everyday occurring murders and other unsolved murders as well. If the bomb location cipher had been solved, they would have been directed to astronomy. At the time the Zodiac case was actively being investigated, the Riverside Police adamantly believed they knew who killed Cheri Jo Bates. Zodiac investigators backed off from the Riverside area and continued to look for their killer in and around the areas where the Bay murders were committed—they were not looking in Riverside where the killer was living.

  The question most asked in the 1940s and 1950s was “What did you do in the war?” In the 1960s and 1970s, the question changed to “What’s your sign?” The San Francisco hippie scene of the 1960s and 1970s was saturated with astrology, satanic cults, and drugs. It was hard to look beyond the times. And somehow a killer who would make an eight-hundred-mile round trip from Riverside, California, to Vallejo, California, not just to murder but to mail letters, probably did not seem like a reasonable scenario to the police. However, they did not know about Warren, who lived his life outside, not inside … a man who could take on the terrain and all the creatures it offered … a man who made and lectured on telescope finders and used the sky, both day and night, as his personal clock and compass … a man who had taped a small flashlight to the top of his gun to use as his personal finder—but he was not looking for stars, he was looking for human prey.

  Less than 1 percent of all murders are committed by serial killers. There would be more, but some killers are caught the first time and put away while others are caught but may not have left DNA at prior scenes to link them as serial killers. Today’s gang violence has created a whole new culture of serial killers. From hold-ups to drive-bys, these gang killings are the product of organized serial killing. Most killers find God in prison—but for them, God is just something to do instead of time. They cannot repent because they do not know why they kill, and they do not really care.

  Dennis Rader a.k.a. BTK (bind-torture-kill), the Wichita, Kansas, serial killer who terrorized the area for thirty years, in one of his written ramblings, states he was under the influence of “factor X,” as were seven other serial killers who were all caught, like him, but curiously he also mentions Jack the Ripper, who was not caught, and even more curiously he does not mention the Zodiac in this statement. Does this lunatic think Zodiac, who states he will “do my thing,” is different than all the rest and is not under the influence of factor X but rather under the influence of factor Z?

  Statements from other serial killers range from, “I had to do it. I don’t like doing it but I like killing.” Another says, “I didn’t have to do it. I liked doing it.” And yet another says, “I couldn’t help not doing it so I just did it. And then I did it over again for a long time. And now I’m tired and I guess you got me.” How do you derive a motive out of those statements?

  The violence perpetrated by the Zodiac and other killers is only experienced by the victims. There is no violence going on at the other end of the gun, knife, or rope, unlike a shoot-out or fist fight, where the victim is not determined until the fight is over. But cowards and bullies have no interest in being challenged—they have no intention of becoming victims themselves. Killers like Warren Estes kill because they want to kill. As much as we would like to develop a motive for their actions, I am reluctant to state any particular incentive for any serial killer—they do not need one. Aspects of their killings may or may not contain their personal hidden desires, which manifest from a warped, damaged mind. They seem to kill because they do not consider not killing.

  Warren was not just a serial killer, however, he was also a mass murderer. He may have poisoned an entire district of elementary school children and then went on to develop a plan to kill a bus load of “kiddies.” His murders were not spontaneous—they were all premeditated. He would have spent a lot of time preparing for his kills … making the hood, cutting the rope, choosing which gun to use for which kill, sharpening the knife, gassing up his car, making a bomb, creating ciphers, and mailing letters. The victims themselves were all random. They just happened to be in the area where the killer “planned” to strike.

  When Warren was with his alien being–searching father in the butterfly collecting fields he was disciplined and treated like a boy, but when he was with his conjuring-up-dead-people mother he was treated and disciplined like a girl—and that was just the beginning of his problems. Killing to satisfy a perverted urge is not a motive—Warren himself describes his acts as “when I have my blast” or “do my thing,” 1960’s phrases that he sarcastically uses to describe his serious, deviant killings. His motive if any is best left to the criminal psychologists and professional criminal profilers, but for certain it should not be left to the killer.

  Warren, like all serial killers, manipulated others with his superficial charms. He was intelligent, calculating, and spontaneous, and above all he was possessive. Life was all about him. He prowled around during the night “peeking” and “watching.” He made telescopes, binoculars, bombs, and ciphers. He controlled boys and girls, hated holidays, and spoke with a most cajoling voice. His young girls advised he was grouchy, volatile, and angry, but he was also gallant and so smart and wonderful to talk to. He was well educated, a wild free spirit, had no God conviction, and took street drugs. He was serious and silly. He was pretty, effeminate, had a hair problem, and was impotent. He wore baggy pants, liked fuddy-duddy music, and was a tarantula wrangler and ant coordinator for the movies. He had a fascination with blood and hated the cops. He captured, caged, and collected. He taught people, helped people, and killed people. He was a serial killer and a mass murderer … he is the suspect in America’s ultimate cold case.

  For now, we can only look back and be grateful that Warren Estes’s attention was diverted and that the killings stopped and remained stopped with his early death. But that is not in itself good enough. The killer needs to be exposed and the murders solved … we cannot forget the victims.

  In 1969, Charles Manson and his followers (the Manson family) had initiated an apocalyptic-motivated war called Helter Skelter and were arrested in California for the brutal slayings of seven people in a two-day period, and, in 1974, the crazed, racially motivated Zebra Killers were also arrested in California for the gruesome slayings of sixteen people over a two-year period that began in 1972. Both of these groups were still actively killing when they were caught. But the Zodiac, a motiveless lone killer active in 1968 and 1969, was never caught as he had long stopped killing, stopped leaving clues, and stopped mailing letters. He was no longer putting himself out there to get caught.

  Zodiac had written twenty-four letters including the desktop poem and the Karmann Ghia door panel message. On March 13, 1971, his third-to-last letter and the only letter to the Los Angeles Times was received by the newspaper. By this time, Zodiac had become so cocky he made his biggest mistake, which should have put the police on his tail. First he states, “Like I have always said, I am crackproof.” He goes on to state, “I do have to give them credit for stumbling across my Riverside activity, but they are only finding the easy ones, there are a hell of a lot more down there.” He mails this letter from Pleasanton in Alameda County—east of San Francisco—the same county that i
s home to the city of Oakland and the Chabot Space & Science Center. He places himself in Oakland, but more significantly incriminating, he places himself in Riverside, where it all started.

  I believe a hard forensic look at the contents of the Zodiac letters and the handwriting as it relates to Warren Estes as a viable suspect needs to be made. We cannot let the evil monster get away with this senseless murder spree and then go on with his life, leaving behind a trail of death and suffering. We have a moral obligation to solve these crimes for the victims, the survivors, their families, and all who were traumatized by Zodiac’s deeds and threats, including the dedicated law enforcement communities that diligently sought the killer.

  EPILOGUE

  After three grueling years of research and writing to complete this work, I still find myself drawn to all mentions of Zodiac just in case there is one more bit of worthy information that may merit further considerations pertaining to Warren Estes’s activities. The following remarkable incident is most noteworthy:

  On a clear spring day in March 2010, in rural Woodcrest, California, located on the southern edge of Riverside, an area that had once been covered with lush orange citrus groves, Janet Lomanto was out riding her horse Cimarron along the dirt trails frequented by local horse riders and vacationers to the area. She was accompanied by a sixteen-year-old neighbor girl. The women’s knowledge of the area’s hills and trails along with the local water tower landmark assured them of their location. Like the unfortunate trend running through the nation at this time, many households were experiencing foreclosures, so when Janet noticed an out-of-place pile of what first appeared to be junk that had been dumped onto the side of the trail, it looked to her like common household items … possibly the remains of a garage sale. She rode in closer and could make out a pole lamp jutting out of the pile. Unfortunately, thoughtless dumping of this sort along the sides of trails and roads is all too common. But as obvious as this pile of stuff was, Janet’s curiosity was grabbed by the sight of a white tube-shaped object approximately six feet long and about one foot in diameter. The thing was surrounded by a mixture of various metal parts and pieces littered about the tube.

  Janet’s husband, Rich Lomanto, was a very skilled old-car buff who took pride in his restoration projects. The Lomantos’ garage was always full of parts and pieces, small and large, offering Janet firsthand looks at the “before and after” of her husband’s restorations. Later that day she told him about the find, and they agreed that it seemed like it might be the unlikely remains of a very large telescope and maybe had some value. They took a ride out to the site and decided they would rescue the thing.

  The next day the scope and all the parts had been hauled back to the Lomantos’ house minus several parts the neighbor kids had gathered up, but luckily Rich was able to retrieve them all. While taking inventory of the parts, he discovered a small white garage sale sticker on the tube that confirmed their suspicions. It was obvious that whoever dumped the scope had possessed no knowledge of telescopes, and ironically at that time neither did Janet or Rich … but that was soon to change as they both readily knew and recognized “ valuable junk” when they saw it.

  Rich, an expert in car restoration, decided that he needed to seek an opinion from someone who was an expert in telescope restoration, so he spoke to some friends and coworkers. One of them suggested Rich post his find in an open astronomy Web chat site he knew of and see what the guys who did know about scopes had to say. The response Rich got was overwhelming—everyone wanted to “take the find off his hands.” With the best of humor and concern for the right thing to be done with the find, Rich started posting some really clear pictures of all the parts from various angles. The chatters studied the parts and the trade names that could be seen on the pieces, and they collectively figured out that the telescope was an Astrola Cave 12.5-inch Newtonian Reflector complete with brass setting circles and a clock drive that was almost destroyed. The scope had sat outside for so long it was clumped with rust and other deteriorations. They further decided that the scope was probably made in the 1960s and had been sitting outside or stored in a nonweatherproof area for around thirty to thirty-five years.

  One of the known chatters, Dan Drinnon, who really knew his telescopes and was experienced in restoration techniques, was successful in getting Rich Lomanto to give him the scope, a decision that pleased everyone involved—he was the perfect guy for the job. The upcoming long Memorial Day weekend allowed Dan the time needed to make the sixteen-hour round trip from Tucson, Arizona, to Riverside, California, to pick up the scope, which he did nonstop … he was a man on a mission.

  Dan chatted with the others throughout the entire restoration project, discussing various methods of cleaning and restoring the parts and how to best make the restoration as close to the original as possible. He continued posting a great stream of pictures of the parts in various stages of restoration. The final picture of the restored telescope was a knockout with its gleaming brass setting circles. The faithful chatters, the Lomantos, and Dan Drinnon were all elated to see this magnificent instrument looking so proud, but even in its final form, they were all still intent on knowing more about the origin of the “Horsetrail Cave,” as this special telescope was now affectionately known.

  A year later in September 2011, Dan Drinnon posted an enticing message that brought me into the project. One day after a full year of working on the instrument, Dan noticed some writing on the back of the telescope’s mirror when the sun hit the piece just right. Suddenly a faded signature about four inches long and from one inch slightly tapering to one half inch high began to appear on the back of the mirror. Dan was looking at the name “Warren Estes.” He immediately posted the find and asked if anyone knew who Estes was and later if anyone had a copy of his signature … soon I was in contact with Dan. Warren and his father worked on and used this instrument, and Warren had indeed built its unusual finder scope as he was an expert in building the finders and even lectured on their proper usage. I was able to confirm that the telescope was last known to be housed in Warren Estes’s parents’ garage in Riverside. I sent Dan two clear copies of Warren Estes’s signatures to compare to the signature on the back of the mirror. The signature on the back of the mirror was made with a black marker but was clear enough to compare with the business ink pen signatures I had sent. The e‘s and s‘s were a clean match, and Dan also noted that the first name in the signature on the back of the mirror was written larger than the last name … a noticeable trait.

  And now, thirty-three years after the death of one of the most notoriously sought-after killers in American crime annals, a product of his astronomy talent emerges. This closing episode was all made possible by a very alert young woman out for an afternoon horseback ride and from a pile of discarded “junk” whose story made its way from Riverside, California, to Tucson, Arizona, and on to Chicago, Illinois … a predestined two-thousand-mile journey!

  —the author

  Daniel T. Drinnon alongside his restored Horsetrail Cave telescope.

  ZODIAC LETTERS

  Confession letter and envelope. November 29, 1966.

  Desktop poem found December 1966 at Riverside

  Community College Library.

  Bates letter and envelope, April 30, 1967.

  Bates letter and envelope, April 30, 1967.

  Bates letter and envelope, April 30, 1967.

  Vallejo Times-Herald, July 31, 1969.

  San Francisco Chronicle, July 31, 1969.

  San Francisco Examiner, July 31, 1969.

  Three-part cipher/letter envelopes, July 31, 1969.

  Three parts of cipher, July 31, 1969. One part of cipher included in three different letters.

  Pages 1 and 2 of three-page letter to the San Francisco Examiner, August 4, 1969.

  Page 3 of three-page letter to the San Francisco Examiner, August 4, 1969.

  Letter to San Francisco Chronicle with piece of Paul Stine’s bloody shirt, October 13, 1969.

 
Dripping pen card with piece of Paul Stine’s bloody shirt. Sent to San Francisco Chronicle, November 8, 1969.

  340 cipher included in dripping pen card. Postmarked San Francisco.

  Pages 1 and 2 of first bus bomb diagram letter to San Francisco Chronicle, November 9, 1969. Postmarked San Francisco.

  Pages 3 and 4 of first bus bomb diagram letter to San Francisco Chronicle, November 9, 1969.

  Pages 5 and 6 with first bus bomb diagram and ticked cross circle Zodiac symbol clue to San Francisco Chronicle, November 9, 1969.

  Zodiac afterthought note and envelope of six-page first bus bomb letter.

  Belli letter and envelope with piece of Paul Stine’s bloody shirt, December 20, 1969. Postmarked San Francisco.

  Page 1 of “My name is_____” cipher letter (second bus bomb diagram included). San Francisco Chronicle, April 20, 1970. Postmarked San Francisco.

  Second bus bomb diagram and envelope. Postmarked April 20, 1970.

  Dragon greeting card, San Francisco Chronicle, April 28, 1970. Postmarked San Francisco.

  Letter with bomb location cipher (letter contained map). San Francisco Chronicle, June 26, 1970.