The Bundy Murders: A Comprehensive History (3 page)

The events which led to the writing of this book are nothing less than surreal. To see them in retrospect leaves me, even now, with a sense that somewhere, and for reasons not fully understood, the proverbial unseen hand of providence began causing everything in my small universe to align itself so that a clearer and more informative picture could emerge of Theodore Robert Bundy and his many victims. But I will have more to say about that later.

When I began this book with a trip to Utah in August of 2006 to conduct interviews and gather research material, I was both mentally and emotionally prepared to apply the kind of dedication required to write a book of this magnitude. I understood the road would be rather long (at least two years) and that I would most likely create something that would be considered a good addition to what was already out there about Bundy. What I didn't realize was just how unique and original the book would become, as I, time after time, uncovered many hidden aspects about Bundy and the murders which had previously been overlooked by other authors.

For example, most writers have stated that Bundy moved from Washington State to Utah to attend law school sometime in early September 1974. Bundy's girlfriend of six years, Liz Kendall, believed he left on September 3, when in fact, according to his gasoline purchase receipts, he departed Seattle on September 2, which was Labor Day that year. Now, at first glance, this quest for his exact day of departure appears to be little more than trivia and totally insignificant; insignificant, that is, until you learn that he later admitted killing an unknown hitchhiker while he traveled through Idaho on September 2 that year! Not only did he admit this, but he called Kendall from a town about 22 miles west of Boise, and it was on the outskirts of Boise (less than thirty minutes after this phone call) where he picked up the doomed girl he would kill later that evening. For the first time, the events of that day and evening are presented as they happened, according to the official record, with all of the gaps and blank spaces in this case now filled in.

Indeed, in some cases, not only were gaps and blank spaces filled, but an entire record of Bundy's activities came to light, enabling me to accurately piece together his actions and movements in particular geographical areas, and providing answers as to why some women escaped his clutches while others didn't. And again, in these instances, the information has never before been published in such a clear pattern, and can be substantiated from the official record.

My book also uniquely traces Bundy's downward psychological spiral and how his descent into madness gradually changed him from the suave and meticulous planner of murder who was able to keep his homicidal activities a closely guarded secret, to the careless predator whose outward demeanor began to manifest the madness within, thus making it difficult for him to capture his prey.

And to think, all of this came about because of a telephone call...

In March of 2005 I received a call from my friend, Jim Massie, who invited me to have dinner with him and retired detective Jerry Thompson, formerly of the Salt Lake County Sheriff's Office. I quickly accepted his offer for I was already aware of Thompson's role in the Bundy case from the scant reading I had done about the murders and my conversations with Jim. Massie, a probation and parole officer with the state of Kentucky, had by this time been friends with Jerry for almost twenty years, so I knew the meeting would be quite interesting. What I didn't know, but would soon find out, was how surreal our time together would be, and how the direction of my life, at least in a literary sense, would be altered by this crossing of paths with the retired homicide investigator from Utah.

When the Thompsons arrived in Louisville in the afternoon of May 29, 2005, Jim called to tell me where we'd be having dinner and when. No sooner had I said, "Great" than he interrupted me by saying, "He brought the bag..."

"What bag?" I asked.

"The bag Bundy carried ... I have it with me now in my truck!"

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I remembered Jim telling me years ago how, as lead investigator for the Bundy case, Jerry had gained possession of the bag and its contents after Bundy was arrested in the Salt Lake suburb of Granger, Utah, in 1975. And then, after Bundy was executed, Jerry was able to retain the items as teaching tools for law enforcement seminars.

"You've got Ted Bundy's bag!" I said, my voice rising with excitement.

"Yes, I'm holding it right now."

Feeling ashamed that I was feeling slightly exhilarated, I asked if he could meet me at the restaurant several minutes earlier than we'd planned so I could take a look for myself.

I quickly parked my car, jumped out and hurried over to Jim's truck just in time to see him coming around the rear holding the infamous brown leather bag. The satchel itself was in a clear plastic bag just large enough to cover it. With the care of a museum curator, Jim gently removed the plastic cover from Bundy's murder kit and laid the bag in the bed of his truck. With an anticipation that can only accompany a situation as surreal as this, we began removing, one piece at a time, the items once belonging to America's most infamous serial killer.

First, the woolen ski mask, and then a red-handled ice pick. Next, he retrieved a flashlight, then a long white piece of clothesline rope, then a smaller, orange-colored electrical cord. Bundy had also taken a white bed sheet and cut it into long strips for binding the hands and feet of his victims, and these were still bundled together with the FBI evidence tag. There were two right-handed gloves, a brown one made of nylon, the other a puffy skitype, blue in color. Also within the bag were a woman's belt (no doubt from one of the murdered girls) and an opened box of Glad trash bags. Bundy always used plastic trash bags to dispose of his victims' clothes, and he always discarded them far from where he placed the bodies.

Needless to say, this made for interesting conversation that evening, as I had not expected something as peculiar as Theodore Bundy's murder kit to ever come my way, even if it was only for temporary viewing. But my adventure into the surreal was far from over. As Jim was allowed to keep the bag for the entire time the Thompsons were in town, he allowed me to transport the macabre cargo from his house to mine the following evening. It was around 9:30 P.M. when I called my wife from the car and told her what I was bringing into the house, quickly adding, "Clear everything off the dining room table, as I'll be taking plenty of photographs." As I closed my cell phone, I glanced at the bag lying next to me in the passenger seat and shook my head in amazement; after all, I thought, here I am driving through a neighborhood at night with the same bag Theodore Bundy carried as he went about similar neighborhoods years ago, trolling for victims. "Truly bizarre," I mumbled to myself as each passing street lamp bathed the infamous satchel in an eerie light.

Yet imagine my surprise, when two days later as we were saying our goodbyes to Detective Thompson and his wife, he offered to give Jim and me each one of the Glad bags from Bundy's car. Not believing my ears, I said yes, and immediately asked if he would be so kind as to write us a letter of authentication. Within minutes I was carrying home (to the consternation of my wife) one of Bundy's tools of the trade.

I wrote an article detailing these events for Snitch, a now-defunct weekly newspaper devoted to issues of crime and the law that was at one time being published in five states but then was running editions only in Louisville and Lexington, Kentucky. And of course, I believed it would all end quietly there. Yet the seed had been planted, and soon that obsession so peculiar to writers to dig deeper and investigate began to take hold. From that point, I knew this was a book which had to be written.

Ted Bundy's murder kit on the author's dining room table, May 2005.

There is also something to be said about the benefits of waiting until the proverbial dust has settled over a matter when you're out searching for the truth. Sometimes, as the years roll by, there is a mellowing of sorts among people, allowing those involved to speak more freely about things which at the time would have been considered off limits to the press, or anyone else seeking delicate information. There is also no substitute (as I found out over and over again) for doing the type of investigative work that requires asking the right questions of the right people until you find what you're looking for. Doing this gave me the kind of access that left me sometimes shaking my head in disbelief. For example, having obtained the cooperation of many of the lead investigators for the Bundy case in Utah, Washington State, Colorado, and Idaho, I made a call to an individual in law enforcement who had intimate knowledge of Bundy's murder spree. It was my intention to ask him about a person killed in 1975, but the only solid fact I had besides her name was how she was murdered. I assumed he knew the details of her death too, but to my surprise, he didn't, and his skepticism was evident from the start. I then mentioned the name of the former detective who revealed this to me, and he assured me that while he had great respect for this person, he was unaware of Bundy ever killing anyone in that manner, reminding me of his preference for strangling his victims from behind while having sex. But he did ask me to let him know about it if I found out more about her supposed manner of death. I assured him that I would and said goodbye. Within a couple of days I located the actual investigator who conducted the face-to-face interview with Bundy, and he confirmed that what I'd been told by the Colorado detective was correct, and why very few people, including my contact, were aware of this information.

Vials containing the pubic hair of some of Bundy's victims, and the head hair of Carol DaRonch (courtesy James Massie).

I soon began to ponder just what else might be out there waiting to be uncovered. What other pieces of the puzzle were missing, or lying dormant, in the story of Theodore Bundy? As I would soon find out, there were plenty of oddities waiting to be discovered. It was gratifying to uncover them all.

Because Bundy was so successful at remaining well hidden in the shadows, moving about like a phantom in the mists until his first arrest in Utah, I will refer to him only twice by name in the first chapter, when he unwittingly gave the police their first real clue by introducing himself as "Ted" at Lake Sammamish, and then in connection with Brenda Ball. Also with respect to his using his real name at Lake Sam, I will touch upon my theory of the motives behind this, as well as other actions he took in pursuit of victims. At those times when I do infer things, or describe certain actions likely taken by the killer or feelings he may have experienced, these are based on Bundy's assertions about what happened in these various cases. It was his way of admitting to certain crimes without admitting to them, as he described them in the third person. My only other direct mention of him in the first chapter is in a brief intro I have written in italics concerning his deadly transformation which made all of these terrible things possible.

Top and above: A rope and white sheet which Bundy cut into strips to bind his victims. The FBI evidence tag is still visible (courtesy James Massie).