Body Parts (9 page)

The hospital staff arranged to transfer Wayne by ambulance to the Oak Knoll Naval Hospital in Oakland. Wayne didn’t want to go there because he was worried they would give him a sedative, a likely reference to his dislike for Haldol. He began “expressing feelings of religiosity and was seen playing his guitar on the ward,” one doctor wrote.

Wayne was admitted briefly to Oak Knoll on October 23, then was transferred to the naval hospital in San Diego on October 25.

Still without his records, he said during his intake interview that he’d been hospitalized in Okinawa because he “was working fourteen hours a day, seven days a week, without breaks, and so I broke.”

He also reported that he’d been admitted to the Long Beach naval hospital in 1983 for “homicidal ideations.”

“I found my wife in bed with another man and I wanted to kill them both,” he said. “I have been separated from her for two years. I’m not bothered by the incident anymore.”

At the hospital in San Diego, Dr. M. J. Foust Jr. and Dr. R. J. Forde recorded their impressions about Wayne, noting that he was not a “reliable historian” about himself. Forde also wrote that he had “serious doubt” that the head trauma Wayne suffered in 1980 was contributing to his current psychiatric issues.

“He describes his mother as a very religious person, who later went to India to live and work with Mother Teresa,” Foust wrote. “He left his mother to live with his father because ‘the grass is always greener.’ He lived with his father for one year, after which time his father gave him his own apartment to live in at the age of thirteen. The patient states that he became a ‘juvenile delinquent,’ engaging in car theft, burglary and truancy. He was arrested at least twice and spent some period of time in Juvenile Hall on detention. At the age of fifteen, he bought a car and traveled around the country. He was then taken in by a woman of middle age and lived with her until the age of seventeen when he joined the US Marine Corps . . . , worked in electronics and did poorly and then became a truck driver, which he quickly became bored with. He became interested in NBC, liked it and became ‘the model Marine.’ He quickly progressed in rank to sergeant. He did well until his wife abandoned him for another man in 1982.”

Foust wrote that Wayne’s aggression and manipulation of fellow patients supported the diagnosis of Borderline Personality Disorder.

“He appears to have recovered fully from his previously decompensated and psychotic state and further hospitalization does not appear warranted at this time,” Foust wrote.

That said, the doctor stated that Wayne was not in any mental condition to continue on in the marines.

In a recommendation that was approved by Forde, the Psychiatry Department’s inpatient director, Foust wrote: “This patient will be discharged to Marine Corps Liaison with the recommendation that he be expeditiously administratively separated from the US Marine Corps due to a newly diagnosed and documented personality disorder of such severity that he can no longer render useful service to the Marine Corps. Until such administrative separation is effected, it is our opinion that the patient remains at risk of another decompensation and could become a danger to himself, others and government property.”

On January 31, 1985, Wayne was discharged from the military for “the convenience of the government, character, and behavior disorders.”

CHAPTER 6

A
DAM AND
W
ADAD

After Wayne was kicked out of the military, he drove delivery trucks for Sears and Wards. His uncle Jimmy also got him a job repairing boats at a fishery in Eureka. It was dirty work, Jimmy said, but paid good money. Wayne soon quit and moved back to southern California.

“He didn’t like that because the work was too demeaning,” Jimmy recalled later. “Wayne always had this attitude that he was better, not than anybody else—well, he did have a very high opinion of himself for some reason, and that type of work was beneath him.”

Following in his mother’s footsteps, Wayne started calling himself Adam, his middle name, around this time. (His mother had already begun going by her middle name, Brigitte; his father and brother also went by their middle names, but they had always done so.)

In 1986, he landed a job as a driver’s helper, loading trucks at American Delivery Service in Garden Grove. There, he met a nice Kuwaiti girl named Wadad Radwan, who was in her late teens and worked in the customer service office. Wayne asked her out for coffee and their relationship progressed from there.

He never held any one job for very long. In addition to delivering papers for the
Orange County Register
, Wayne sold cars at two dealerships, worked at a motorcycle shop, and drove a school bus for disabled children in San Juan Capistrano. He also worked as a tow truck driver and security guard.

By the same token, Wayne never lived in the same place for very long. Given this pattern of behavior, it’s not surprising that Wayne’s six-year relationship with Wadad was very off and on, marked by breakups, sporadic periods of living together, and a passing engagement.

Not long after they began dating, they got into an argument and split up for a couple of weeks. Wayne moved in with his friend Dave from the marines, back with Wadad, in with Dave again, then back with Wadad.

Wadad, who just wanted Wayne to be happy, lived with her mother during the in-between times.

“Whatever he did, he was never challenged enough,” Wadad, who knew Wayne as Adam, said later. “He was too smart for his own good, I think. He’d get bored too quick. He was always depressed. . . . I wanted to see him happy because I believed in him.”

Similar to his relationship with Kelly, Wayne’s sexual practices with Wadad seemed normal at first.

Initially, he asked her to give him oral sex, but she said no.

“I can’t do something like that if I don’t love you,” she said.

Wayne seemed pretty upset by this, but he didn’t take it out on her, perhaps because things changed soon enough.

It wasn’t long before Wadad fell in love with Wayne, so she was more willing to do what she needed to please him—that included letting him put a safety pin in her nipple during sex.

“I loved him a lot and I thought, well, you know, I’ll try that,” she said later.

Even though it hurt, she let him stick her on four separate occasions. He never pushed the pin all the way through, he just pricked her with it and pulled it out when she complained of pain. (Wayne later told a psychologist that he’d administered diabetic injections to one of his teenage girlfriends, and over time, the needles became sexually arousing to him.)

Wayne would ask Wadad to bite his nipples and he would bite her breasts as well, hard enough to leave teeth marks, but not enough to make her cry.Wadad knew he liked this, so she went along. She also didn’t object to him setting up a camcorder so they could watch themselves while having sex.

But Wadad had her limits. She drew the line when he said he wanted to bring another woman into their bed. It made no difference that he said an ex-girlfriend let him watch while she had sex with another man.

“I thought about it, but then I thought. . . it wasn’t in my heart to really do something like that,” she said. “I’m just not like that, and so I never—thank goodness—I never did something like that, because I would’ve regretted it.”

She also refused to have anal sex with him after they experimented once or twice because it hurt too much.

Unlike with Kelly, Wayne never forced Wadad to have sex when she didn’t want to. On the other hand, Wadad said, “I never said no to him, so I don’t know how he reacts to that. But he never . . . coerced me or anything.”

Years later a woman named Janice Hawkins said she’d met Wayne at a karaoke bar in Vallejo in October 1987, and she let him live with her for a time. During that period, she said, he asked her to pinch his nipples so hard that she feared she would pinch them off. She also said he hit her once while they were having sex, and masturbated in front of her teenage daughter.

In 1989, Wadad said, she and Wayne were living in a two-bedroom house in San Clemente. They both knew their relationship was not going anywhere and that they weren’t good for each other, so they started to break up. Again. But then Wayne had an idea.

“Why don’t we just break up slowly?” he said. “I’ll sleep in the other bedroom.”

As usual, Wadad agreed to go along. She had no other immediate plans.

So Wayne moved into the other bedroom and they lived largely as roommates, although they were still occasionally intimate. This went on for a year, while Wayne was supposed to be looking for another place to live. Wadad said she wanted to keep the house because she had a dog.

Around this time, Wayne told his brother he’d started taking prelaw courses at Saddleback College, a community college in Mission Viejo, with the hopes of becoming a criminal defense attorney someday. (Wayne never got past the tenth grade in high school, but he ultimately earned his GED.) A Saddleback spokeswoman confirmed he attended courses there from 1990 through 1992, although she couldn’t confirm which classes he had taken whether he’d completed them.

One day, Wayne came home, crying, but he wouldn’t tell Wadad what was wrong. “I don’t want to,” he said.

“Tell me,” she said. “Tell me what happened.”

“I don’t know exactly.”

He finally explained that he’d been walking along the sidewalk when he came across a girl, grabbed her purse, threw it up on the roof, and bit her breast. Wadad didn’t understand why Wayne would do such things, but she didn’t press him for an explanation because he was crying.

There were other strange incidents around this time as well. While he was working as a tow truck driver and helping some people on the road one night, a young teenage couple from out of state approached him. They said they had no money and needed to buy gas, so Wayne brought them back to the house.

It was summertime and Wayne was on break from driving the school bus, so he sat around the kitchen table, playing cards with these kids. Wadad came home from work one evening and saw Wayne, sitting at an angle and facing the girl, who was about fifteen. He was shirtless and was wearing cutoff shorts with no underwear, so his testicles were hanging out the bottom. Wadad tried to signal him to tuck himself in, but he remained oblivious.

Finally, she had to say something.

“Why don’t you cover yourself?” she asked.

“What’s the big deal?” he replied.

Wadad felt he was being disrespectful, but later she realized he must have liked watching the girl react to his exposed genitals.

Also during that time, Wadad and Wayne rented the second bedroom to a young woman whose pretty cousin came to stay with them. Wayne told Wadad he saw the cousin, through the window, sleeping naked on her bed.

“What were you doing looking in the window?” Wadad asked.

“Well, her blinds were open.”

It didn’t hit Wadad until later that there was no other reason for Wayne to be outside her window except to stare at the girl. Their yard was such a mess that they never even used it except to let the dog run around.

Finally, at long last, Wayne announced he’d found another place to live.

“Where?” Wadad asked.

“Right there,” he said, pointing to the house next door, which was also adjacent to his former employer, B&M Towing.

Wadad was outraged. “You can’t do that to me,” she said.

She soon realized that she would have to move because even after he was living next door, he was still coming and going from her house as he pleased. She found a studio in San Clemente and left her dog behind.

Wayne was drinking quite a bit and going out at night, singing karaoke. He and Wadad were still intimate off and on until the end of 1992, when he told her that he’d been with somebody else. That was the end for Wadad.

“I told him I didn’t want any part of him after that,” she said.

In September 1992, Wayne applied for a job with the U.S. Border Patrol. In his application, he claimed to have supervised more than thirty-five employees at a time in the marines, writing that he left the military because “as a career I was not interested.”

During his time in the marines, he wrote, “I was responsible for maintaining high standards of appearance, mental and physical readings. I was an expert with the M-16 A2 rifle and .45 pistol for most of my six years. I was promoted to sergeant after my 20th birthday.”

He listed the skills he’d developed as: “map reading and navigation math with logarithms”; first aid for chemical, nuclear and biological injuries; radio communications; use of radiological equipment; “survival in harsh environments”; “nuclear blast reporting; use of weather data; and many other classified and unclassified skills. I learned teaching, leadership, and the ability to speak and write clearly and concisely.”

He omitted mention of his demotion and discharge, but perhaps the description he gave for his job after the marines spoke for itself: “As a security officer I was responsible for ensuring the security of some 35 pools, Jacuzzis, tennis courts and two small lakes. . . . I was also responsible to cite violators of the association rules and regs (the strictest imaginable). During my employment with Woodbridge, I developed or maintained the following skills: radio communications, crisis situation management, abnormality observation, public relations and rating of situation reports.”