The Killer Book of Cold Cases

by Tom Philbin

  The trip was a welcome relief. Tom tried to protect Jane from listening to friends who wanted to talk about Gert’s murder, and he rarely brought up the topic himself. As time went by, the police seemed to be making less and less progress, and by December they had gotten nowhere. As often happens, investigators switched from what was now a “cold” case to newer ones that weren’t.

  A change came over Jane Alexander because of the way the police had vacated her aunt’s case. A fire started in her belly, and no matter how that affected her relationship with Tom O’Donnell, she was going to fight for justice for her aunt. Happily, what happened next was what Jane would later call a miracle.

  Profilers

  In January 1984, a rumpled, thickset, balding man came into Jane’s life. He didn’t create an outstanding first impression, but he happened to be a superb detective named John Kracht who had been assigned the murder case. The first thing Kracht did was to go over the existing evidence and then start a new investigation based on his own observations.

  Meanwhile, Tom, who always was full of business ideas, had convinced Jane to invest in Yurika Foods, a business she could operate out of the house. Around this time, Jane got a call from John Kracht, who told her he was taking over the case of her aunt’s murder. Kracht’s first goal in investigating the case was to find out about Aunt Gert’s estate. How much did she leave, and who benefited? Kracht looked into things for a couple of months and then realized that he needed help.

  At the time, the profiling of perps by the FBI was in its infancy, but Kracht contacted the agency anyway. Ultimately, he sent them all the evidence he had—including rather gruesome crime-scene photos—to see if they could draw a profile of a possible murderer.

  Before he received a response from the FBI, Kracht met with Jane and Tom O’Donnell. Kracht continued to question her, asking her where her money came from. Jane explained that she had received Social Security payments since her husband’s death. When Aunt Gert’s husband, Jay, died in 1971, Aunt Gert gave her $10,000 and also gave her husband, Al, and their six children $1,000 each. In addition, Jane had borrowed $20,000 from Aunt Gert that she couldn’t repay. Obviously, Kracht wasn’t ruling out anyone, including Jane.

  Some of Jane’s daily routine began returning to normal, as James Dalessandro writes in his book Citizen Jane, but Jane thought it strange that she could not read a book anymore. Before the murder, she had devoured a book a week. But now her concentration had diminished to the point that she could not concentrate for more than ten minutes. She was frightened by how much Aunt Gert’s death had affected her emotional well-being. She prayed that the terrible anxiety, the continuous feeling of impending doom, would fade. More than anything, she prayed for a break in Gertrude’s case.

  Then on June 18, the FBI Behavioral Science Unit delivered its psychological profile of Gertrude’s killer. The report, written by Special Agent Ron Walker, did not seem at first glance to promise much, since it was little more than three pages long. There were many disclaimers, including a statement that the information was based only on probabilities and that the actual murderer might not fit all the descriptions contained within. Nevertheless, Sergeants Kracht and his partner, named Ronco, read the pages with rapt attention. By the end, they almost felt as if a psychic had taken hold of the case and handed them the name of the murderer.

  Walker began his report with a review of Gertrude McCabe’s social station, according to Dalessandro. Walker noted that she was at low risk for violent crime, despite living near economically depressed areas. Statistically, her use of unknown workmen raised that risk only slightly. Her economic status, and the possibility that she might provide an inheritance to someone, offered the most likely potential motive.

  How did Walker surmise this? The crime scene and the mode of killing told him. Because Gert’s injuries were so varied and, for the most part, nonlethal, they pointed to an inexperienced killer.

  “There is an almost total absence of violent trauma that is generally associated with homicide in which the types of assault are as varied as those on this victim,” according to the FBI report. “This absence of violence correlates to an absence of anger and rage or hostility on the offender’s part and tends to indicate that the offender’s motive was other than emotionally based. The overall impression of the trauma to the victim is one of a deliberate and methodical attempt by the assailant to ensure the victim’s death.”

  Specifically, Ron Walker said he could not identify any particular type of killer. Nothing indicated that a particular personality had committed the crime. But he could draw some conclusions:

  The assailant was educated, likely at least a high-school graduate.

  The victim was known to the assailant.

  The assailant did not reside in the immediate area but traveled to and from the scene by motor vehicle.

  The perpetrator was inexperienced or unsophisticated in crime, particularly in the commission of a violent crime.

  The motive was not emotional but monetary.

  The age, sex, and relationship to the victim could not be determined. “A female offender should not be ruled out, nor should closely or distantly related relatives be discounted.”

  The assailant would not show any remorse or guilt related to the act.

  The perpetrator was quite possibly interviewed by police during the course of the routine investigation. “If so, the assailant would have appeared calm, relaxed (perhaps too relaxed), and willing to cooperate with police.”

  “The assailant may interject himself or herself into the investigation.”

  Threats against Tom

  Jane’s finances were not all that healthy, so the next day she and Tom went about improving them. First they received a credit card with a $3,000 limit and were able to use this to make a mortgage payment of $2,700 on Jane’s house. Then Tom and Jane went to a bank where they were well known, and Tom helped her get a $10,000 line of credit based on the inheritance from Aunt Gert. They took the money from the bank in the form of $5,000 in cash, which they expected to use to take a trip to Ireland, and a $5,000 cashier’s check.

  A couple of nights later, Jane went out with a friend but Tom said he was too sick to go. While Jane was gone, Tom headed out of the house fully dressed and with a single bag in his hand. Earlier in the day, Tom had been seen in shorts by their houseguest, Jane’s friend Hugh Fine, who was studying for a chiropractic test. Hugh was surprised to see Tom up and about when he supposedly was sick.

  When Hugh asked Tom what was up, Tom told him that a business deal that he had in South Africa had gone wrong and some bad people were after him. To protect himself and Jane, he was taking off to hide somewhere. Then he left. When Jane returned to the house, she found out from Fine that O’Donnell had fled and she was devastated.

  At one point, Jim Rohde—Jane’s friend, advisor, and lawyer—arrived and gave her a letter from Tom that told her about the threat against him and how much he loved her. Before she was finished with the first paragraph, Jane was crying. She believed the letter, but Rohde felt O’Donnell was a hustler. However, Jane couldn’t or wouldn’t believe that.

  The next day she got a shocker. Her banker called to tell her that Tom O’Donnell had cashed the $5,000 check when he came into the bank—even though Jane was the only one on the account. Tom was a charming and accomplished con man. She also remembered giving Tom the $5,000 in cash. Plus he had her credit cards, which her friend Jim Rohde said she should consider stolen.

  Jane was worried about Tom being killed by his business enemies, but she wondered if she should be. John Kracht said later that Tom O’Donnell had been his prime suspect, and that when Tom fled, Kracht became quite sure that, for whatever reason, Tom had murdered Gertrude McCabe.

  John Kracht had developed the idea that Jane was somehow involved in the murder with Tom—if not assisting in actual murder, then in being an accessory by concealing information. But as Kracht’s investigation continued, and as more facts became known, he
changed his point of view and no longer thought that was true.

  Jane Alexander changed her point of view, as well. In the beginning, she had been very concerned about Tom’s safety and believed that he was not guilty of anything. But as time went by, she realized how Tom had quietly emptied her accounts, leaving her in terrible financial shape, and she began to regard him as a scamster.

  In Kracht’s Cross Hairs

  As Kracht probed, nothing he discovered lessened his conviction about O’Donnell being a killer and a con man. For example, throughout their relationship, Tom had told Jane that he owned a trust in Switzerland that was about to mature. When Kracht contacted Swiss authorities, he found out that O’Donnell’s trust did not exist. Also, O’Donnell had been barred from the country because he had failed to pay taxes on some diamonds he had sold there.

  Kracht found other evidence of O’Donnell’s thievery, and eventually Jane gave up the view that Tom had been a loving person with her best interests at heart, realizing instead that he had been preoccupied with his own interests. To satisfy John Kracht, she took a lie-detector test and passed with flying colors.

  Now she was ready to help Kracht find Tom O’Donnell. From letters and other indicators, he was thought to be roaming around Europe or South Africa. Then Tom’s friend Harry Carmichael called Jane, saying he had received a letter to Jane from Tom in Antwerp, Belgium, and that Tom asked him to destroy the envelope.

  Harry sent the letter to Jane and she read it, weeping throughout. Tom expressed his love to her, but she could sense a certain callousness beneath the surface. The letter was also in good condition, like it had been mailed from Modesto rather than Antwerp. Jane recalled what Kracht had told her: “Tom is probably only an hour away from you.” While all of this was going on, Jane was still deeply in love with Tom. Brutal truths can be hard to accept.

  Kracht knew that they didn’t have enough evidence to convict O’Donnell of murder, so he asked Jane if she would sign a complaint about the $10,000 O’Donnell obviously had swindled from her. She said “yes,” for the first time agreeing to go against O’Donnell. Slowly but surely, she was becoming a fanatic in pursuing him, ultimately for the murder of her beloved Aunt Gert.

  The Marin County District Attorney didn’t have enough evidence to file murder charges, but at least Kracht was able to explain to Jane how he figured O’Donnell had killed Gert while establishing an alibi. Basically, O’Donnell had driven to Gert’s house from his friend’s house in L.A.

  The cops were able to find where he had rented the car and determine that the mileage on the car from the rental place to LA and Gert’s house in San José was almost exactly as the crow flies. O’Donnell had gone to L.A. to establish an alibi, driven to San Jose, murdered Gert, and then driven back to L.A.

  One of the main obstacles was finding a prosecutor willing to go after O’Donnell, and Jane kept at this task without letup. After a couple of false starts, Jane teamed up with an assistant district attorney named Joyce Allegro. At first, Jane wasn’t that impressed with Joyce, but as time went by, Joyce proved herself.

  As detectives probed O’Donnell’s life, it became apparent—if it hadn’t been apparent before—that O’Donnell was a total con man who preyed on women. They discovered women all over the world that he had lived with.

  For Jane, perhaps the most shocking discovery was a $250,000 life-insurance policy that he had taken out in her name. Detectives had no question that O’Donnell would have murdered her when it was convenient for him.

  The case was a circumstantial one, with Jane the chief witness against O’Donnell. But with Jane’s assistance, Allegro’s investigation produced valuable details. Jane kept a detailed diary of what went on in her life, and those details proved invaluable at the trial.

  For example, O’Donnell talked to his relatives in Montana about Gert McCabe being dead, but that wasn’t public knowledge until the next day. A few weeks after the murder, O’Donnell told Jane that he had found Aunt Gert’s check register in the bureau drawer. But one of the detectives on the case, Jeff Quimet, went over crime-scene photos that included a shot of the drawer where O’Donnell said he had found the register. The drawer was empty, so O’Donnell had to have placed the register there.

  O’Donnell was arrested and tried, with Jane leading the way with her testimony, and he was found guilty of Gert’s murder in October 1996 and sentenced to twenty-five years to life. Jane’s battle to bring justice to her aunt had taken almost thirteen years. Though justice was indeed delayed, it was ultimately served.

  Notable Quotable

  “It fell on Robin Ashworth that day to behold the cruelest, most ravaging sight this world has to offer: the lusterless desecrated flesh of one’s own murdered child.”

  —Joseph Wambaugh, The Blooding

  Lynda Mann was one of two daughters of an English family who lived in Narborough, a village six miles southwest of the city of Leicester. Nearly everyone had a garden, and the village had more than its share of quaintness, with winding paths and woodsy areas, as well as grazing cows and sheep. Kath was Lynda’s mother, a short, dark-haired, buxom woman, and her stepfather was Eddie Eastwood, a strapping, blond-haired man. In 1983, Lynda was fifteen, and her sister, Susan, was seventeen.

  Lynda had a lot going for her. She loved life, music, clothes, makeup, and hairstyles, and she was a good student at the Lutterworth School. She got plenty of A’s and was studying French, German, and Italian. Her goal was to be a multilinguist, so she also wanted to try Chinese.

  As she grew up, her looks grew with her. She was pretty, with dark hair and eyes, and very fair skin. When people described her, they spoke of her outgoing, bubbly personality. For Lynda Mann, life was good.

  Like Most Days…

  Monday, November 21, was like most days for Lynda. She had a babysitting job scheduled after school and would be coming home after 6:00 p.m. That particular evening, Eddie and Kath Eastwood made a night of it. First they went to a ladies’ dart-throwing tournament at the Carlton Hayes Social Club, and then they went to the Dog and Gun Club where he played darts and they had a few beers.

  Murder victim Lynda Mann

  They returned home at 1:30 a.m. and got an unpleasant surprise. Their older daughter, Susan, said that Lynda had not come home, although she was supposed to be back before 9:30 p.m. Eddie Eastwood immediately went out searching for her, including walking down the Black Pad, a tarmac path that ran adjacent to a housing complex that was being constructed and was part of the property owned by a mental institution, the Carlton Hayes Hospital. He found nothing and went back to the house and called the police.

  The next morning on his way to work, a man walking along the Black Pad looked through the five-foot-high, wrought-iron fence next to him and saw what looked like “a mannequin, lying in the grass surrounded by a cluster of trees,” as Joseph Wambaugh wrote in The Blooding. Not sure whether he was seeing a human body, the man ran into the road and flagged down a hospital driver. He opened the gate and approached. Soon he determined it was a body of a young girl, her jeans, underpants, and shoes wrapped in a bundle five yards from her. There was dried blood on her nose, her face was bruised, and her scarf was wrapped around her neck. Her body was stiff, rigor mortis having set in.

  Shortly thereafter, cops descended on the scene and the story exploded. Lynda Mann had been brutally murdered, strangled, and the inhabitants of the small village were not used to that kind of thing.

  During the autopsy, investigators discovered that Lynda had not only been strangled but also beaten badly, taking heavy blows to her chest. Lynda’s nails were not damaged, indicating that she had not fought back. Victims who fight back frequently break nails and, important to investigators, may have trace material from the assailant, such as skin, embedded under the nails.

  Lynda also had been raped; dried seminal fluid was found on her vaginal hair. She had been hit hard in the face, possibly knocking her unconscious, and she had bitten her tongue as she was being strangle
d. Her anus and vagina had been penetrated. Investigators were able to do quite a detailed secretor analysis. Of course, this did not lead them to a suspect, but they stored the evidence in case someone would come along that they could match the samples up with.

  The police, as usual, started their investigation from the inside of the family out, and the first suspect was Lynda’s stepfather, Eddie Eastwood. The police reasoned he was a natural suspect since he was her stepfather and had, in fact, only been married to her mother, Kath, for a few years.

  As part of the investigation, Eddie Eastwood was required to take a blood test. Using the semen found on Lynda, the technology of the time allowed investigators to determine the killer’s blood group. Eastwood’s blood did not match that of the 10 percent of people who had the killer’s blood type. Meanwhile, Eastwood was so traumatized by being considered a suspect that he could not speak for three weeks.

  Blood Used to Tell

  Before DNA became the ultimate way for investigators to identify someone, there was the science of identifying body fluids known as serology. Serology units refer to screening evidence for biological stains to determine if they are blood, saliva, semen, or other bodily fluids. Serology units apply enzymes, proteins, and antigens to fluids as a way of distinguishing among biological samples from different people. In most crime labs, serology screenings are now used to describe the steps taken before DNA testing is done. Technology marches on.

  The investigation swung into full bore, including the complete vetting of the staff of the Carlton Hayes Hospital, a massive Edwardian brick structure that housed mental patients near Lynda’s home. Canvasses were conducted, and reports followed up. The police also vetted the records of the patients in the hospital, some of whom had perverse sexual backgrounds, but nothing came up. The effort was massive and the police were very confident that they would make an arrest quickly; but though there were many suspects, no arrests came.