Jason Funk: Give Us a Sign

Katie Froeschle Is Attacked on the Job
(‘Muffled Cries,’ Forensic Files)

Although it certainly wasn’t his intention, Jason Funk did just about everything possible to incriminate himself before, during, and after Katie Froeschle’s murder.

Katie Froeschle in a white sleeveless top
Katie Froeschle

The unemployed motorcycle mechanic killed the 25-year-old insurance adjuster at his residence, just after she had confirmed with a co-worker that she was at his address. In fact, she was still on a cell phone call when Jason came walking out of his house toward her car.

Zero cover-up. Next up, he left forensic evidence, including the victim’s blood, in the house and “hid” her body in a highly discoverable location.

He didn’t even get rid of the murder weapon.

But it’s another misstep in particular that cemented the 27-year-old Floridian’s ranking as the second-dumbest criminal in all 15 seasons of the original Forensic Files.

Colorado native. I’ll get to his colossal mistake in a minute, but first here’s a recap of “Muffled Cries” along with extra information drawn from internet research into the case and the victim’s young life:

Katrina Anne “Katie” Froeschle came into the world in Fort Collins, Colorado, in 1979, the only girl and eldest of three children born to Leonore Froeschle, a nurse, and Jeff Froeschle, an assistant attorney general who later went into private practice. Katie was especially close to her father. They went skiing in Steamboat Springs and scuba diving in Key West together. She also enjoyed gymnastics and softball.

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The family moved to Tierra Verde, Florida, and Katie, who had long hair and attractive features, graduated from Lakewood High School in St. Petersburg and then from Florida State University in 2002. She earned degrees in finance and risk management.

Insurers deluged. Her very first job out of school, as an adjuster for Florida Farm Bureau Insurance, put her interpersonal skills as well as her business studies to use.

Katie “got all the difficult people because she could get the information she needed and soothe them,” Leonore Froeschle told the Tampa Tribune.

On November 12, 2004, Katie deserved some R&R after one of many long days. Four hurricanes had hit Florida that year, creating extensive damage and an overwhelming amount of work for insurance professionals.

The yellow two bedroom house where Jason Funk lived
Jason Funk lived in the North Tampa house with girlfriend Pamela Hintz, who ultimately turned against him

Pet gone hungry. Katie planned to meet up with some friends at a restaurant after work, but she never showed up.

Her family called her repeatedly over the weekend but heard nothing. When her best friend from work, Amy Roderick, checked on Katie’s apartment, she found it empty — and yikes, no one had fed the cat.

Police began looking for Katie’s 2003 Chevrolet Impala. They learned that she had ended her workday by visiting a house in Sulphur Springs, a working-class section of Tampa, to check on a leaky roof reported by the owner.

Potential accident. Although the area has been called a bit dicey, Katie probably didn’t feel vulnerable.

“When performing inspections for roof damage, most adjusters will cite a fall from the roof as their greatest concern, not physical attack by the home’s occupants,” according to the Property Casualty 360 Daily News.

Also, that particular inspection probably didn’t even require the adjuster to go inside the home.

Auto turns up. As mentioned, Katie needed help from a coworker to locate the house at 1503 East Mulberry Drive, then told the coworker that she had arrived and described the occupant who walked toward her car.

After Katie disappeared, Jeff and Leonore Froeschle visited the two-bedroom yellow house that Jason Matthew Funk and girlfriend Pamela Hintz had moved into just three days earlier. The couple claimed to know nothing about a damaged roof or a visit from an adjuster.

The Froeschles soon discovered their daughter’s maroon Impala in the parking lot of the Harbor Club, a restaurant about a mile from the house on East Mulberry Drive. Inside the car, they found her keys and purse with no cash.

Sad development. A witness came forward to say he saw a tall man leave the car in the lot and walk away.

The book cover of the Safety in the Field for Adjusters And Other On-Site Professionals
Jeff Froeschle remarked that if the safety manual existed earlier, it could have saved his daughter’s life

When a missing woman’s car turns up abandoned, it’s usually an indicator of a tragedy, and unfortunately, such was the case with Katie. A police officer spotted her dead body in the Hillsborough River. She was partly clothed and lay in the water directly behind Jason Funk’s house.

Katie’s family held a memorial service at the Island Chapel in Tierra Verde.

Not a typical crime. The news of the random killing rattled locals. “Everyone felt this one,” police officer Jim Simonson told the Tampa Bay Times as reported in a November 20, 2004 story, which also noted that the cashiers at an area CVS pharmacy “couldn’t stop talking about it.”

Tampa Police Department spokesperson Joe Durkin said that Sulphur Springs had “its share of crime” but that the “brutal and heinous” homicide “shocks the conscience of the community,” according to Colorado news publication Summit Daily.

Because of Katie’s half-clothed state, investigators believed someone had sexually assaulted her, although a rape kit tested inconclusive. They determined she had been in the water for about 30 hours.

Owner cleared. The medical examiner found pattern injuries in the form of round marks on her head. Someone had likely beaten her to death with an object.

(In a letter to the editor, Katie’s aunt would later criticize the Tampa Bay Times for printing ” horrific, graphic details” that “served no purpose” and “only sensationalized and humiliated the name of a beautiful and upstanding young woman.”)

Leonore spoke to Jason Funk’s landlord, who acknowledged he had made the claim about the roof. His behavior seemed a bit suspicious to Leonore — but anybody could get a little weird when questioned about a murder, and he gave an alibi that satisfied the police.

Erratic behavior. When investigators informed Jason Funk about the discovery of Katie’s body, he “was more concerned about the police distracting him from his birthday cake baking in the oven than about Froeschle,” the Tampa Bay Times reported on February 10, 2005. Jason said that he was jet-skiing at the time Katie disappeared.

“He was at turns cold, jovial, and distraught, and he said a few things only the killer could have known,” a January 27, 2005 Tampa Bay Times story reported.

Investigators discovered that someone had tried using Katie’s credit cards a number of times and succeeded at least twice.

A black and white newspaper clipping showing Jason Funk in shackles and a prison uniform in court
A Tampa Bay Times clipping shows Jason Funk in court

Put his name to the crime. A Publix store surveillance video showed a tall white male paying for groceries with Katie’s ATM card.

And here’s the part of the story that has kept Forensic Files fans scratching and shaking their heads since “Muffled Cries” first aired in 2007: The same man paid for items at a Qwick Stop with Katie Froeschle’s card and signed his own name — “Jason Funk” — on the receipt.

The reaction of the audience members at a Montel Williams Show was typical. During a segment featuring shocking crimes, they could not contain their laughter when told about the signed receipt. “This guy is just stupid,” Williams said during the 2008 episode.

Backyard inferno. Jason left plenty of other clues as well. A lab discovered that some skin cells on Katie’s steering wheel came from Jason. Apparently, it didn’t occur to him to wipe the car interior clean after he drove the Impala from his house to the restaurant.

Inside the residence, detectives found Katie’s E-ZPass unit and business card. Outside the house, investigators identified a burn pit (incinerated items, always a bad indicator, the Slovers) with Katie’s belt — she was wearing pants and a top that day. Police also believed the killer put bloodstained synthetic carpet in the flames. Neighbor Robert Rodriguez recalled the smell of “plastic burning.”

Investigators theorized that a motorcycle muffler with a circular mounting bracket they had recovered from the house was the source of Katie’s pattern injuries. Jason had beaten her to death with the car part, they believed. His Nike sneakers had Katie’s blood on them and so did walls and miniblinds inside the house. A bank envelope belonging to Katie carried Jason’s fingerprints.

Not dodgy looking. But police didn’t have to wait for the test results before arresting Jason. They had taken him into custody immediately on a drug charge after finding 19 marijuana plants growing inside the house.

So who was this dim-witted brute?

Well, his background is a little mysterious, but some information turned up on Jason Funk. He was born on November 13, 1977 and grew up to stand 6-foot-3-inches tall. A photo of Jason “reveals a clean-cut, handsome young man, whose appearance would be impressive to most landlords,” according to Property Casualty 360 Daily News, which notes that in high-vacancy markets, many landlords “do not pull credit reports (much less run criminal background checks).”

A closeup of Katie Froeschle
Katie Froeschle thought about becoming a lawyer someday

Why she went inside. It turned out that, years before the murder, Jason had gotten himself into legal trouble owing to domestic violence and drug use.

Investigators theorized that on the day Katie died, Jason was the man who came out of the house as she drove up. (His girlfriend was at work.)

“There are any number of possible scenarios that might explain why the adjuster entered a property that seemed to require only an exterior roof inspection,” Property Casualty 360 Daily News conjectured in an October 5, 2009 story. “Perhaps she asked to use the bathroom after an unexpected long drive; maybe Funk invited her in for a drink of water; or perhaps Katie found significant roof damage and wanted to check interior ceilings for water stains.”

Still water. Forensic Files suggested that perhaps Jason made a pass at Katie, then got mad when she rebuffed him, and struck her repeatedly with the motorcycle muffler, killing her and spraying the wall with blood.

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Then, not noticing that the water had no current (because of a dam), Jason threw her body into the Hillsborough River behind his house — and there it stayed, awaiting discovery.

Jason burned Katie’s clothes and the bloodstained carpet and stole her cash and credit cards. He had recently lost his job and needed money for groceries and the $850-a-month rent on the house.

Caught on audio. Then, Jason meticulously cleaned the muffler alleged to be the murder weapon; the metal sparkled, but the circular cutout enabled police to link it to Katie’s injuries.

Pamela Hintz cooperated with the police and secretly recorded some of her conversations with Jason:

“‘Honey, they can have me driving her car, spending her money, using her cell phone, doing everything else, but they don’t have me doing anything to her,’ he told Hintz. At other times, he became threatening, telling Hintz if she hung up, he would put her ‘in the river,'” the Tampa Bay Times reported.

The waterway where police found Katie Froeschle’s body is part of Hillsborough River State Park

Full confession. Despite the mounting evidence, Jason did have at least one defender. “It’s not in character for Jason to do anyone wrong like that,” said Scott Bitman, owner of Cycle Masters and Jason’s former boss.

But Jason himself seemed to come to his senses when confronted with the forensics and possibility of the death penalty.

Wearing shackles and an orange prison uniform in court, he admitted to inviting Katie into his house, attempting to rape her, and beating her to death with the motorcycle muffler.

Source of sadness. He also pleaded guilty to a charge of cultivation of marijuana.

Represented by a public defender, Jason declined to make a statement to the victim’s family.

Katie’s parents, her brother Samuel, and Amy Roderick chose to address the court about their loss. Amy mentioned that Katie only saw the good in people, and Samuel spoke of how he and his sister would stay up all night talking — but now he cries himself to sleep. Leonore called Katie her best friend.

Jeff Froeschle had an especially difficult time mourning his daughter

Quite the revisionist. Their words brought Judge Denise Pomponio to tears, the Tampa Bay Times reported. She gave Jason a sentence of life without parole for the murder plus a total of 60 years for attempted sexual battery and other offenses against Katie plus having the contraband houseplants.

But during his Forensic Files interview, Jason Funk said that he was innocent and took responsibility for the murder only to avoid the death penalty.

So where is this Isaac Newton of a man today?

FSU award. Jason resides in the Wakulla Correctional Institution in Crawfordville. Also known as #168693 and listed with the Sexual Offender Predator System, he’s under close custody, meaning that armed personnel must supervise him at all times. The Florida DOC website notes that he weighs 236 pounds and has no chance of release.

To honor the woman Jason murdered, the Froeschles established the Katrina Anne “Katie” Froeschle Memorial Scholarship Fund for FSU students interested in risk management, insurance, real estate, and business law.

Katie’s former employer, Florida Farm Bureau Insurance, donated $50,000.

In 2011, with Katie’s tragic murder in mind, the American Association of Public Insurance Adjusters published Safety in the Field for Adjusters And Other On-Site Professionals. “If this manual can save one life, it’s worth it,” a press release quoted Jeff Froeschle as saying.

Jason Funk in a prison mugshot, which shows he still has a headful of hair
Jason Funk in a 2022 mugshot

Weighty memorial. Over the years, Jeff has kept close tabs on Jason’s whereabouts as Florida moved him around to various prisons, according to a Tampa Bay Times story, which noted that Jeff served as a board member of the Life Center of the Suncoast, a Tampa facility offering grief counseling to families of murder victims.

Sadly, the Froeschles ended their 28-year marriage not long after the murder. Jeff said he worried that the union deteriorated because he talked about Katie too much.

His devotion continued, however.

Have some punch. Jeff collected 934 photos of his lost daughter and set them to music for a presentation for the scholarship fund — but he told the Tampa Bay Times that after viewing it twice, he found it too heartbreaking to watch again.

The article also notes that Jeff tried to work through his feelings by boxing with a heavy bag and sometimes he would “pretend the bag was Funk’s face.”

That’s all for this post. Until next time, cheers. — RR


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Dr. Debora Green: Tennis and Madness

Q&A With Ann Slegman Isenberg
(‘The Ultimate Betrayal,’ Forensic Files)

Whatever problems were plaguing Dr. Debora Green — depression, her husband’s cheating — no one foresaw what happened on Oct. 24, 1995.

Debora Green, M.D., in a prison mugshot

Debora, an oncologist who had stepped away from her career to care for the three kids she shared with cardiologist Michael Farrar, deliberately set fire to the family’s mansion in Prairie Village, an upscale neighborhood in Kansas City.

She and 10-year-old Kate escaped unhurt from the house. Kelly, 6, died of smoke inhalation and Tim, 13, sustained fatal burns. Debora wanted to kill the kids to punish her husband, prosecutors later contended.

By the time of the tragedy, Michael, who was living with his girlfriend, was ill from ricin, a toxin that Debora allegedly sneaked into his food.

Debora pleaded no contest to a variety of charges in 1996 and is serving her sentence at the Topeka Correctional Facility. Today, she’s 71 years old. Her first parole consideration date is in 2035.

For this week’s post, I talked to Ann Slegman Isenberg, a retired writer and editor who knew Debora before and after her transition from good-natured stay-at-home mom to universally condemned child killer. Excerpts of our conversation follow:

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How did you meet Debora Green? I started taking a “three and a pro” tennis class at a little club near my house. I played singles and wanted to learn doubles tennis. Debora was no longer working as an oncologist and was also learning tennis, so we got to know each other.

Was Debora likeable? She literally had a genius IQ, so she was so quick and as funny a person as can be, kind of the life-of-the-party type of person.

Did you meet her husband, Michael Farrar? My husband and I socialized with her and her husband once at a tennis get-together. He was nothing to look at, kind of a drip, but was well-thought-of in his field.

Did you meet their kids? They went to private school and my kids went to public school. Some of Debora’s kids would come around at the tennis club, and I think they really did have a good relationship with their mother. Kelly was darling with a poof of blond hair.

Who says you don’t make nice friends in prison? Debora Green has participated in the KSDS Pooches and Pals program, whereby inmates train and care for assistance dogs

How did you first hear about the fire? My sitter came over that morning and said there was a fire on Canterbury Circle and I thought, please don’t be Debora. I called and her phone was busy, so I thought she was chatting on the phone and everything was OK. Then, when I took my son to the barber and saw on the news the fire was at her house, I thought, “Oh no, they’re going to think Debora did that because of that other fire.” [A year earlier, a fire broke out at a previous house owned by Debora and Michael.] I took flowers and left them at Mike’s doorstep. Debora was staying with friends, I think.

Were you surprised about the substance abuse claims? Debora did call me and it was obvious she was intoxicated — but she showed no signs of drug abuse before. As Ann Rule wrote, the night of the fire, she had taken a lot of Prozac and vodka. So she might have just been out of her mind.

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Did you stay in touch when she was in custody? Debora reached out to me quite a bit. I visited her at the Olathe jail. When she went to prison in Topeka, I visited her there. She was always proclaiming her innocence. She wrote me a letter and asked whether I would perjure myself — and say that Tim said, “Sometimes I get so upset with my dad I want to burn the house.” I think I sent it to our lawyer, who sent it to the defense. And pretty quickly afterward, she pleaded no contest.

How did the people at the tennis club react to the murders? Debora had seemed so fun and sensible. So there was the whole thing of appearance vs. reality. I think a lot of us had to go to therapy over this.♠

That’s all for this week. Until next time, cheers. RR

Editor’s note: Michael Farrar died on August 23, 2023, at the age of 68. Media outlets have yet to disclose his cause of death.


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Robert Buell: A City Planner Goes off the Rails

A Shirt-and-Tie Guy Lives a Dual Existence
(‘Material Evidence,’ Forensic Files)

My favorite Forensic Files episodes tend to involve criminals no one suspected, people who seemed to live within society’s conventions.

A headshot of Krista Harrison
Krista Lea Harrison

Enter one Robert Anthony Buell, the subject of “Material Evidence.” He was a municipal employee with a college education, a manicured lawn, and colleagues and friends who respected him.

Unfortunately, he also had a secret life as a serial sex criminal and murderer.

Local newspaper on story. For this week, I did some research on the reactions that locals had upon hearing that the homicidal maniac in the van looked not like a monster but rather like one of them.

So let’s get going on the recap for “Material Evidence,” along with information from online sources, including the Akron Beacon Journal, which did great reporting on the case:

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On July 17, 1982, Krista Lea Harrison and Roy Wilson were collecting cans at a softball field in Marshallville Village Park in Ohio. Krista’s older sister, Dawn, had given her permission to ride her 10-speed bike to the park instead of doing dishes at home.

On high alert. Suddenly, a man grabbed Krista, 11, and forced her into a reddish-brown van with bubble-shaped back windows.

Roy, 12, who had just stepped away for a moment when the assailant drove up, described him as a white male of medium height, 25 to 35 years old with a prominent nose, dark hair, and a mustache.

The crime unnerved the town of Marshallville, population 750 to 900. “The park became a ghost town,” recalled Mayor Robert Brooker on Forensic Files. “There was tremendous apprehension that this could happen again.” Residents started locking their doors. A column in the Akron Beacon Journal advised parents to tell their kids that “no reasonable adult drives around seeking to give rides to children.”

A black and white image of a young Robert Buell
Robert Anthony Buell in his youth

Awful discovery. The FBI helped local authorities as they mobilized volunteers and tracker dogs, a helicopter, and even a psychic in their efforts to find the blue-eyed tawny-haired girl who loved softball. Local groups raised a $13,500 reward for information leading to the man’s capture. The feds outfitted the Harrisons’ phone with a recording device in case a kidnapper called.

“We want to be able to hold her in our arms and tell her how much we love her,” Krista’s dad, Gerald Harrison, said in a plea to the unknown man who kidnapped the youngest of his four children.

But no ransom calls came.

Six days after Krista’s abduction, some turtle trappers found the girl’s decomposing body 30 miles outside of Marshallville in a field in Holmes County. Someone had partially wrapped her in a plastic bag and left a large bloodstained cardboard box at the scene. Not far away, police found a pair of discarded men’s jeans and a plaid shirt.

Terrifying tale. Someone had strangled and sexually assaulted Krista. Forensic experts found the same type of synthetic trilobal orange fibers in her hair that had turned up eight months earlier at the murder scene of another child, Tina Harmon, in a neighboring town, but a young migrant farm worker named Herman Ray Rucker was in prison for that homicide. (Rucker eventually won a new trial and was acquitted).

A photo of fall foliage with the Marshallville water tower in the background
Marshallville created a memorial to Krista Harrison with geraniums and a plaque with her picture in the park where she showed off her talent for softball

Investigators determined that the L-shaped cardboard box at Krista’s murder scene came from a new leather van seat ordered from Sears.

Police got a huge break when a 28-year-old local woman came forward with a horrifying story. While she was painting the floor of the Petroco Gas Station where she worked as a manager, a man holding a pistol appeared and told her, “You are coming with me unless you want your head blown off,” according to court papers. He took her to his house and shaved her head, battered her, raped her, and tortured her with electric wires. He tied and handcuffed her to the bed. The next morning, in what sounds like a scene from a James Bond movie, the sadistic man turned up the stereo so no one could hear her scream and left for the office. It gave her an opportunity to loosen the ropes and force her hand through a handcuff. The victim put on a robe and ran outside for help. She was purple with bruises.

Outdoorsy guy. The man she identified as the attacker was the quintessential “somebody no one expected” — Robert Anthony Buell. He worked as a loan and grant specialist for the Akron Planning Department. His house at 3319 Symphony Lane in Clinton had an automatic garage door opener and a neatly trimmed yard with freshly planted chrysanthemums. The divorced father of one had reportedly been talking marriage with his longtime girlfriend, a lawyer at an Ohio bank; she had a 13-year-old daughter and an 8-year-old son. Robert took camping trips with both the kids and attended the girl’s softball games.

Robert Buell wearing an orange prisoner uniform
It’s a good thing Robert Buell liked orange

His arrest shocked neighbors and colleagues who knew him as a friendly, conscientious man who enjoyed hiking, scuba diving, and skiing — and was loved by local kids, the Akron Beacon Journal reported. His inner circle didn’t believe the accusations.

“Friends tended to dismiss the [gas station manager’s rape] charge as if it were an empty slur uttered the morning after by a woman Buell brought home one night,” according to the ABJ.

String of attacks. Nonetheless, the police thoroughly searched his vehicle and his house, placing sheets over the windows to discourage prying eyes.

Inside, they found jeans of the same size and style as the ones left near Krista Harrison’s murder scene. Robert owned a reddish-brown 1978 Dodge van. It didn’t have round windows as the witness to Krista’s abduction had reported, but Robert’s helpful nephew, Ralph Ross Jr., told investigators that Robert had recently replaced them with rectangular ones. The bright orange carpet in Robert’s van and his home matched the fibers in Krista’s hair. And Robert had ordered Sears van seats that came in boxes like the one found at the murder scene.

Family strife. Authorities would eventually name Robert as a suspect in the murder of Deborah Kaye Smith, 10, of Massillon, as well as a number of sexual assaults on women and girls in Doylestown, Akron, Barberton, Lodi, and Jeromesville. There was evidence that his string of crimes started as early as 1975, when he abducted Terry DeLapa (luckily, she escaped after 20 minutes), according to an account that DeLapa, now an executive at a materials company, gave to Rubber and Plastics News in 2015.

The gas station manager who Robert Buell raped and beat
After raping and beating the gas station manager (above) with his fists and a belt, Robert Buell tied her up and went to sleep for the night

So where did this man come from and did his early life give hints at the horror and loss he would create?

Robert Anthony Buell was born in Cincinnati on Sept. 10, 1940, the son of Jacqueline Buell, a waitress, and Carter Buell, a chef. His parents went through a horrible divorce, according to the ABJ. Jacqueline described her husband as a drunken troublemaker. Carter complained that he returned home from the army to find his wife shacked up with a bartender. They fought over custody of the children, with Carter alleging that Jacqueline whipped and beat Robert so severely that a broom handle once broke over his back.

Robert, understandably, was described as a nervous child.

Finance positions. Still, he had a normal social life, dating girls and going out with friends. He followed a stable, successful career path, which included serving in the Navy as an electronics technician and receiving an honorable discharge. He studied business at the University of Akron, and held jobs as a cashier and loan officer at a couple of banks and as a credit manager at W.T. Grant.

When Robert married and became a father, he didn’t allow his parents to see their granddaughter for many years — presumably to spare her their dysfunction. Robert and his wife, a bookkeeper from Steubenville, stayed together for 18 years before divorcing.

A shot of a road in the Clinton, Ohio
Robert Buell lived in the Summit County town of Clinton, a bedroom community of Akron, Ohio

After Robert’s arrest and indictment on charges of Krista’s aggravated murder, kidnapping, and felonious sexual penetration in November 1983, some neighbors started telling stories suggesting that he wasn’t all that squeaky clean after all.

Exes supportive. They said that, after his wife and daughter moved out, Robert tried to rebrand himself. He grew his hair longer and wore a cowboy hat, sunglasses, and an unbuttoned shirt like Richard Gere in American Gigolo. He also started riding a motorcycle, hanging around with younger people, and blasting music, according to the ABJ.

Still, there was no evidence that Robert had mistreated his wife and daughter or his girlfriend and her children. In fact, after his arrest, his ex-wife and girlfriend raised funds for his defense.

They must have wanted their money back when Robert, 43, pleaded no contest to the savage attack on the gas station manager.

Not So Hot in Cleveland. But he denied any crimes against children.

Authorities moved Robert Buell’s trial to Cleveland because of extensive pre-trial publicity.

He declined to take the stand in his own defense, and his lawyers didn’t impress the court much.

On April 4, 1984, a jury of six women and six men convicted Robert Anthony Buell of aggravated murder and rape for the attack on Krista Harrison.

Sorry, buddy. In a separate sentencing action, the jury voted in favor of a death sentence, which in that era meant the electric chair. Additionally, he received life plus up to 185 years for other charges related to his various sex crimes and abductions over the years.

A mug shot of Robert Buell
Buell spent his final few hours listening to classical music in his cell. For his last meal, he reportedly ate one pitted black olive.

He made many attempts to escape the death chamber. In 1996, a court halted his execution just 17 minutes before its scheduled time.

But a federal judge later “called his pleas for a stay ‘a rehash of the same arguments’ only ‘dressed in a brand-new outfit,'” the Akron Beacon Journal reported.

No chair. As a new execution date in 2002 grew near, Krista’s mother, Shirley Harrison, said that Robert Buell deserved to die the way Krista did. But she also noted that “we have been advised not to read [Krista’s] autopsy report,” according to a BG Falcon Media story.

Robert insisted he had nothing to do with the murder and that the real killer was still out there.

By this time, Ohio had started using lethal injections of sodium pentothal, potassium chloride, and the muscle relaxant Pavulon for executions.

On Sept. 24, 2002, at the “death house” of the Southern Ohio Correctional Facility, Robert Anthony Buell took the needle, joining the small club of Forensic Files killers (including Jason Massey and Walter Leroy Moody) whose death sentences have been carried out as of this writing.

That’s all for this week. If you enjoyed this post, please subscribe and share on social media. RR


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Ralph Marcus: Obsession and Fraud

A Swindler With a Grudge Kills a Teen
(‘Oily in the Morning,’ Forensic Files)

Aside from great hair, Ralph Albert Marcus didn’t have a whole lot going for him.

He made a living through scams. And he spent more than two decades fixated on a woman named Patty Howard who made it clear she had zero romantic interest in him.

Patty Howard with her children when they were small
Patty Howard with Jaime and Nick

At age 42, Ralph set in motion what he probably thought would be his greatest coup: collecting $850,000 from life insurance on Patty’s son, Nick, and getting revenge by taking him away from her forever.

As a comment on YouTube said, “Marcus is not a POS. He’s the whole thing.”

For this post, I looked into Ralph Marcus’ criminal history and searched for an explanation as to why in the world Nick Howard — a teenager with no dependents — had such an expensive life insurance policy.

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Fender unbenders. So let’s get going on the recap of “Oily in the Morning,” the Forensic Files episode about Nick Howard’s murder, along with extra information culled from the internet.

Nicholas Andrew Howard was born on March 9, 1978 to Daniel and Lillian “Patty” Howard. The Howards, who lived outside of Sacramento, California and ran an auto body shop, were a close bunch. Nick’s sister, Jaime, told Forensic Files that Nick was her best friend. After Nick, 18, got his diploma, he continued to live at home, and worked in the family business.

At the end of a night out on Feb. 5, 1997, Nick went to Tony’s Place, a restaurant in Walnut Grove, to pick up a forgotten driver’s license. He left a phone message to tell his family that he had some car trouble but was heading home.

Nick never arrived.

Patty called the sheriff’s department the next morning. Her husband went out to search for Nick, driving up and down River Road, the route Nick would have taken from the restaurant.

Ralph Marcus wearing glasses with aviator frames
Ralph Marcus ‘discovered’ tire tracks from the ‘accident’ — in hopes of clearing the path to an insurance jackpot

Car discovered. River Road had no shortage of perilous stretches. It runs parallel to the Sacramento River, with a 30-foot drop from the road to the water, and no guardrails. (Just a few days ago a driver crashed into the river and died.)

Ralph Marcus, who joined the search effort along with his friend Jake Stanton, flagged down a police car to tell officers he’d found tire tracks leading from the road to the riverbank.

California Highway Patrol and Yolo County officers converged at the scene and called in divers. Two days after Nick’s disappearance, they found his empty Mazda 626 at the bottom of the river. The engine had been running when the vehicle hit the water.

Not ready to give up. Investigators discovered Nick’s neatly crumpled glasses inside the car but no other sign of Nick.

The interior of the vehicle had stains from motor oil, probably from an empty bottle of Valvoline found in the car.

Meanwhile, Patty Howard still hoped what everyone hopes when a loved one goes missing after an accident — that he’s a John Doe, confused but still alive, at a hospital.

Police suspected that Nick had staged the accident and then gone into hiding.

Slumber through an accident? But on Feb. 25, 1997, a male body surfaced near Clarksburg downstream from the track marks. Investigators had to use dental records to identify it as belonging to Nick Howard; his corpse had started to decompose. An examination suggested that someone had beaten and strangled Nick and thrown him into the river while he was still breathing. He died of drowning.

Authorities classified the death as a murder.

One of the investigators noted on Forensic Files that if Nick fell asleep along the road, he would have probably been jolted awake by the rocky descent toward the water.

A view of the Sacramento River
The Sacramento River view from River Road in Walnut Grove

Lively interview. Besides, the car had gone off the road at a 45-degree angle, too sharp a path for a vehicle whose driver had fallen asleep.

The case got all the more fishy when investigators discovered Nick had a $500,000 life insurance policy that offered $850,000 if his death happened by way of an accident.

Homicide Detective Larry Cecchettini, one of the more vigorous speakers on this particular Forensic Files episode, noted the oddity of a young person having this much insurance coverage.

Suspicious paperwork. It turned out that Nick had taken out the policy on himself after lying to the agent — he said that he planned to get married and take over his parents’ business, according to court papers from 2001. He paid the premiums, which cost him about one fourth of his monthly income, Cecchettini told The New Detectives on the “Betrayed” episode.

The Howards discovered that the policy listed not them but rather Ralph Marcus as the beneficiary. (According to The New Detectives and court papers from 2001, the change never officially went through because Nick neglected to supply some required information — but Ralph probably didn’t know that until after Nick died.)

Ralph had a long history with the Howard family, particularly with Patty.

Unrequited feelings. In 1973, Ralph, then 17, met Patty, 14. He immediately started hitting on her and made some unwanted advances after pinning her down — he claimed he just wanted to show her some wrestling holds. The incident sounded like borderline, or maybe full-fledged, sexual assault.

Jaime Howard as a young adult
Jaime Howard during her appearance on Forensic Files

Patty friend-zoned him, but he continued to hover around her.

Even after she married Dan Howard, Ralph’s preoccupation with Patty persisted. In an October 1986 letter to Patty’s sister, Ralph said that the emptiness he felt without Patty “would be like for you if your children were taken away forever,” according to court papers.

Connection with son. Ralph continued to hang around Patty and her family until 1993 — when he made a bizarre request to have a baby with Patty.

She finally told him to get lost forever.

But Nick stayed in touch with Ralph, who lived in Orangevale. Starting when Nick was 16, Ralph would sometimes hire him to work on landscaping jobs, according to 2001 court papers.

Bad-news guy. Ralph acted like Nick’s godfather, according to Forensic Files. He whisked Nick away on adventures in Reno and Tahoe. They stayed in hotels and went to casinos. What teenage boy could resist those enticements?

Many YouTube commenters criticized Patty for allowing Ralph to have any contact with her or her family after experiencing his aggression in high school. But remember, that was in 1973, before anyone talked about date rape or acquaintance rape or forcible kissing. Back then, behavior like Ralph’s was often filed in the “he can be a jerk sometimes” bin.

Patty Howard's husband, Dan
Nick’s father, Dan Howard

If there was a loser bin, he definitely belonged in that one, too. Although Ralph liked flashy things, he could never hold a job for long. He told people he made a living as a gambler. He resided rent free with his mother and stepfather for years and did sporadic contracting work. But he needed money for a new home — the bank was set to take ownership of his mother’s house because of a reverse mortgage.

Litany of offenses. A background check on Ralph revealed bankruptcy, drug running, and insurance fraud. In one case in the 1970s, Ralph allegedly set his own house on fire and stayed in the burning structure until he almost died.

Court papers would note Ralph’s “past success, working with one or more confederates, in obtaining cash from insurance companies by means of contrived fires, faked auto theft, faked burglary, and property damage from faked auto accidents.”

He acted surprised to hear that Nick had named him as insurance beneficiary. Ralph said he knew nothing about any fraud scheme. But some of Ralph’s acquaintances who later came forward told police that Ralph knew about the beneficiary switch and offered varying reasons for the change. He told one associate that Nick didn’t trust his own parents and wanted Ralph to administer the money to his family in a prudent way.

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Far-fetched scheme. After Nick’s death, Ralph said that he would turn over any insurance money to the Howard family, but he later backpedaled.

Meanwhile, an unidentified associate of Nick’s told police he heard Nick brag about a plan to fake his death for $1 million in insurance money, and Ralph Marcus would collect the payout so Ralph and Nick could use it for high living.

In addition to various statements from people who knew Ralph or Nick, the forensic evidence was growing.

Mouthing off. Tests on the Mazda showed that a Valvoline oil bottle cap was holding the throttle open. It was used so the vehicle could be operated without a driver, investigators believed. A Valvoline oil bottle found in Ralph Marcus’s garage bore the same lot number as the one in the sunken car.

A newspaper clipping of Nick Howard wearing a baseball cap and glasses
In all available photos of Nick Howard as a teenager, he’s wearing a hat

Experiments with a Styrofoam model of Nick’s head suggested that the accident wouldn’t cause the severe crushing of glasses. (The glasses shown on Forensic Files looked neatly crushed rather than mangled.)

It came out later that Ralph told friend Gayle Schlenker that Nick’s car was going around 85 miles an hour when it hit the water. How would he know?

Big-talking teen. Jake Stanton would later tell police that, at the crash site, Ralph found a stray glove that matched the one found on Nick’s body — and put it back in the water rather than turning it over to police. Ralph later claimed that the glove was tangled in fishing line and slipped from his hands.

Investigators theorized that Nick and Ralph transpired to commit insurance fraud, then run away together and live the glamorous life on the payout. Nick had told his sister and his buddy Jason Smalling that he was “worth more dead than alive” and that Ralph could take his insurance money and multiply it. Jaime and Jason both expressed skepticism, but it didn’t discourage Nick — and they probably thought he would never really do such a thing anyway.

Furthermore, Nick told his friend Susan Von Niessen about a plan to fake his own death, hide in Mexico, and then return to the U.S. to collect on his life insurance. But Susan told him that insurance companies don’t pay off until the policy holder has been missing for seven years. That information rattled Nick, according to court papers from November 2001.

Not so cocky now. On July 11, 1997, detectives from the Yolo County sheriff’s office arrested Ralph and charged him with murder with the special circumstance of committing the homicide for financial gain, which could bring the death penalty.

A view of the Sacremento River from the water
The Sacramento River is also a tourist attraction featuring wine-tasting cruises

Ralph pleaded not guilty. His court appearance was a far cry from the image of bravado to which he aspired: Ralph “sat silently, attached by each wrist to other inmates in a line of prisoners wearing identical blue jail pajamas,” the Sacramento Bee reported on July 25, 1997. “He fidgeted and cast brief, nervous glances toward the row of spectators — the family and friends of his alleged victim.”

Public defender James Eger represented Ralph early on, and later J. Toney took over as part of a contractual relationship with the county.

Tall tale. The trial kicked off on Oct. 5, 1999.

Investigators theorized that Ralph clung to Nick because the rest of the Howards didn’t want him hanging around.

Ralph plotted the insurance caper from the beginning, they conjectured. Nick was probably acting on Ralph’s suggestion when he took out the insurance policy.

Brutal assault. It came out that, possibly as part of an effort to stage the accident, Nick had called his buddy Samuel Tyler to say that he was driving home along River Road and was tired after staying awake about 32 hours — and that he had some trouble with the car’s distributor cap but had fixed it.

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On the night of Feb. 5, he and Ralph met at a dock on the Sacramento River to create the accident scene, prosecutors believed, but Nick tried to back out of the plan, so Ralph killed him — or maybe Ralph had planned the murder from the beginning either out of greed or for revenge against Patty, the prosecution believed. He beat and strangled Nick until he passed out, threw him in the water, crunched the glasses, and put them in the car and accidentally spilled the Valvoline oil while taking the cap off. Then he used the bottle cap in the carburetor so he could send the unoccupied Mazda into the Sacramento River, prosecutors alleged.

Later, Ralph informed police that he “discovered” the tire tracks where the car ran off the road — he wanted the authorities to find the vehicle and the body so he could collect on the insurance.

At the trial, two of Ralph’s former associates who received immunity testified about scams Ralph had taken part in.

Pickup game. Harold Thompson said that in the 1970s, Ralph had shown up at his door with singed hair, saying that his house had burned down because of an electrical fire and that he had secretly removed expensive items from his house and claimed that the blaze destroyed them.

Jeff Cantrell testified that Ralph had helped him out by destroying Jeff’s ski boat so Jeff could collect on insurance. Ralph also defrauded his own insurance company by claiming someone stole his Toyota pickup truck, Jeff said.

Nick Howard's grave stone.
Patty Howard said her son loved her too much to disappear

Glen Harms, an inmate from Yolo County Jail, testified that Ralph told him that Nick was his adopted son and that Ralph himself had paid for the insurance policy.

Dubious claims. After his court appearance, Harms claimed that Ralph looked at him and mouthed, “You’re dead.”

Another witness testified that Ralph had lured Nick Howard into a credit card fraud scheme.

And Farmers Insurance representative Jim Dyer said he suspected that a 1996 claim from Ralph — that someone burglarized a shed outside his home — was phony. But Ralph went to the Insurance Commission to complain, so Farmers reluctantly paid Ralph $58,000 on his claim.

Defense’s turn. Ralph’s lawyer, J. Toney, was undeterred and hit the prosecution back hard.

The defense presented three forensic pathologists who denied the strangulation evidence and said Nick had simply drowned and that his facial injuries came from the crash. Tony argued that Nick was fatigued the night of his disappearance and could have easily drifted off behind the wheel.

And Ralph was an honest citizen who made his living as a gambler, the defense contended.

Brother speaks up. Next up, Ralph Marcus himself took the stand. He claimed to have witnessed Nick put a bottle cap in his vehicle’s carburetor on an occasion before the accident.

Ralph also said he was shocked to find out Nick had made him the beneficiary of his life insurance policy, but he kept it as a secret from the Howards as not to upset them. Oh, and he never mentioned the insurance to police because he didn’t think the change was valid.

His brother, Ron Marcus, would later testify that Ralph said that Nick named him beneficiary because he was mad at his parents.

Right where he belongs. Ralph denied past acts of fraud. He also said that he quit working to care for his mother.

The jury was unmoved. On Jan. 13, 2000, Ralph was convicted of first-degree murder and given life without the possibility of parole. He lost a 2011 appeal attempt.

Today, Ralph Albert Marcus, 67, is in Mule Creek State Prison in Ione, California, where he’s better known as #P66056, and still has no chance of parole, according to the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation.

“Marcus got his wish,” wrote YouTube commenter Lowhandlagum. “He doesn’t have to work anymore.”

That’s all for this week. If you enjoyed this post, please share on social media. Until next time, cheersRR


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Shari Smith: Taken at 17

A Background Check on Egomaniacal Killer Larry Gene Bell
(‘Last Will,’ Forensic Files)

A kidnapper who taunts an abducted child’s parents is usually the stuff of fictional police dramas.

Shari Smith in a headshot
Sharon Faye ‘Shari’ Smith

Unfortunately, Larry Gene Bell did it in real life.

In 1985, he kidnapped Shari Smith and assailed her mother and father with a heartbreaking letter and disturbing phone calls.

“Last Will,” the Forensic Files episode about the case, does a good job of helping the audience get to know Shari and her parents, but leaves us with a lot of questions about Larry Gene Bell.

Local news outlets. Where did this rather goofy-looking killer come from? Were there any early warning signs or did he suddenly become unhinged? For this post, I looked into his background.

So let’s get going on the recap of “Last Will” along with extra information from internet resources, including coverage from South Carolina newspapers The State (Columbia), The Rock Hill Herald, and The Columbia Record.

In 1985, Sharon “Shari” Faye Smith was a 17-year-old senior preparing for her class trip, a cruise to the Bahamas. She would also be singing the national anthem at her upcoming graduation from Lexington High.

Odd delay. But Hilda and Bob Smith would never get a chance to drape a graduation robe over their daughter’s shoulders and secure a mortarboard atop her 1980s state-of-the-art hair, curly and shoulder length with bangs blown skyward.

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On May 31, 1985, on her way home, Shari stopped at her family’s mailbox at 5700 Platt Springs Road in Lexington, South Carolina. From his home-office window, her father, Bob Smith, saw Shari’s car at the end of the driveway.

But she never made it the 700 feet to the house.

Menace on the line. Bob, a pastor at Lexington Baptist Church, found the blue Chevette with Shari’s black shoes and her purse on the seat. Hilda, a Sunday school teacher, recalled her husband saying, “Honey, I don’t know how to tell you this, but Shari’s car is at the end of the driveway running and she’s not in it.”

Lexington County Sheriff James R. Metts organized a huge search effort that included air and land resources and a 24-hour command center set up in a tractor trailer near the house.

Larry Gene Bell wearing a reddish beard and smiling
Larry Gene Bell

Two days after the disappearance of the blond blue-eyed teenager, an anonymous phone caller who asked for Hilda Smith told her that he had Shari in his possession. To verify his claim, he described the black and yellow bathing suit she had on under her clothes the day she disappeared.

Envelope seized. He said he would release Shari, and in the meantime the two of them were eating and watching TV.

The kidnapper said he sent the Smiths a letter that would arrive shortly. But investigators couldn’t wait. They made the postmaster open up the USPS office early and intercepted the envelope.

The missive was in Shari’s handwriting, dated June 1, 1985 and headed “Last Will & Testament.” In the letter, Shari tells her family not to let the abduction ruin their lives.

Parents’ pain. Even though the circumstances under which she wrote the note must have been terrifying, she managed a bit of light-heartedness: “I love you all so damn much,” she wrote. “Sorry, Dad, I had to cuss for once. Jesus forgave me.”

On a subsequent call to the house, the kidnapper tormented the family by saying that he and Shari were now “one soul.”

“Do not kill my daughter, please,” Hilda pleaded.

Strange motivation. Forensic Files didn’t mention it, but Shari had diabetes insipidus, a rare form of the disease that requires massive hydration and prescription drugs. Her medicine was found in her purse in her empty car, but the caller assured Hilda that Shari was drinking plenty of water, according to tapes available on Oxygen.com. He also suggested the family arrange to have an ambulance at the house for when Shari came home.

The caller didn’t ask for money.

“I’ve never had a case like this before where the offender doesn’t make it clear what he wants,” FBI profiler John Douglas recalled in a 2022 interview. “Does he want ransom? Is it sexually motivated? He doesn’t just want to commit this crime, but he also wants to toy with the victims’ families, give them false hope that their child is still alive.”

Slips through their fingers. Clearly, the abductor particularly enjoyed playing out his power trips on women; he always asked for Hilda when he called and would later involve Shari’s older sister, Dawn.

Police traced at least one of the calls to a phone outside Eckerd’s in the Lexington Town Square Shopping Center, but the mystery man was gone by the time they arrived.

Exterior of the large house where the Smiths lived
The Smiths’ four-bedroom 2.5-bath house in the Red Bank section of Lexington

In his next call, he directed Hilda to take 378 West to an out-of-the-way structure with a backyard.

Up to his devices. On June 5, 1985, investigators found Shari Smith’s body there. They believed she died about two hours after she wrote the letter on June 1 and that the killer waited to reveal the location so that decomposition would obscure forensic evidence.

Investigators found traces of duct tape on her face, suggesting the killer suffocated her. They concluded that Shari had died of either suffocation or dehydration, according to court papers available on Murderpedia. Accounts vary as to whether or not the autopsy proved she had been sexually assaulted, but he ultimately would be charged with rape.

Profiler John Douglas predicted the murderer would be a white male in his 30s with a failed marriage and sex crimes in his past. They believed he used a device to disguise his voice on the phone calls and knew something about electronics.

Next victim. Meanwhile, the menacing killer continued his verbal assault. He called collect on the night of Shari’s funeral to describe how he killed her.

A few weeks later, he called the Smiths to discuss Debra May Helmick —a 9-year-old with no connection to the Smiths — who had been abducted outside her family’s mobile home on Percival Road in Richland County. A neighbor had run outside when she heard Debra screaming for help, but the kidnapper and the little girl with the long blond hair were gone.

Shari Smith in a school photo
On the day Shari Smith died, she had met her mother to buy traveler’s checks

It’s not clear why the mystery man contacted the Smiths instead of the Helmicks about Debra. Perhaps he simply liked talking to Hilda — she had a soft, feminine way about her.

Panic and caution. As mentioned, Dawn Smith, Hilda and Bob’s older daughter, agreed to help investigators by also speaking to Larry on the phone about Debra. Larry gave directions to a grassy area where officers found the little girl’s dead body.

Meanwhile, a police artist worked up a sketch of a possible suspect, a bearded man seen in the area.

The community stayed on high alert for the killer on the loose. Innocent bearded men were facing scrutiny because of the police drawing. Other local men were taking pains to shield the women in their lives, according to The State.

Devious callers. Police fielded dozens of calls on a tip hotline. A number of citizens suspected a local meter reader, but those leads never went anywhere.

And yikes, the authorities ended up arresting four people for making false claims or trying to extort money from the Smiths.

Then, investigators got a huge break once a laboratory thoroughly examined the note that Shari wrote while in captivity. Indentations on the paper showed an intact phone number probably written on the sheet of tablet paper above the one Shari used.

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Kibitzing killer. The phone number ultimately led the police to a South Carolina couple, Ellis and Sharon Sheppard. Some of the calls to the Smiths had come from their home phone. A roll of 22-cent USPS commemorative mallard duck stamps in the Sheppards’ drawer matched the one from the “last will” envelope. Some of what looked like Sherry’s blond hairs were found in the Sheppards’ bathroom.

Fortunately, the Sheppards had proof they were out of town during the entire episode. After listening to recordings of the killer’s calls to the Smiths, Ellis identified the voice as belonging to Larry Gene Bell. Larry worked as an electrician on construction sites and had done some wiring work for Ellis. Larry had also been housesitting for them.

The Sheppards recalled that when Larry picked them up at the airport, he talked a lot about Shari Smith’s abduction.

Breakthrough in case. Finally, the police had a solid suspect.

“We were all extremely elated,” recalled Assistant Deputy Lewis McCarty during his appearance on “Cat and Mouse,” an episode of FBI Files. “We could not show any emotion. But we knew we had our man.”

The goodbye letter Shari wrote to her family
Shari Smith’s letter included messages to her boyfriend, Richard, and her grandmother.

On June 27, 1985, police stopped Larry Gene Bell on his way to work. True to the predictions, they soon discovered that he had a history of making obscene phone calls and much worse.

Dual identities? At the police station, officers set up a “confession” room with items that belonged to Shari Smith and Debra Helmick as well as evidence of his guilt such as photos of his fingerprints. They also pretended to sympathize with him to gain his trust. (It worked for the Chris Watts case — not a Forensic Files episode but among my true-crime favorites). They even brought in Hilda and Dawn Smith. Larry cried, but he didn’t confess.

Interrogators had tried to persuade Larry that he had dissociative identity disorder in the hopes that he’d spill his story. The suspect said that “the bad Larry Gene Bell” committed the crime, but he didn’t reveal anything else.

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Criminals like Larry “make it seem dreamlike. They did a crime, but they don’t remember doing it,” John Douglas said during an interview with A&E. “It’s like two sides to their personality. They have a good side and the bad side.”

Born in the Deep South. So who was this sadistic killer?

Larry Gene Bell came into the world on Oct. 30, 1949, in Ralph, Alabama.

He played baseball at Eau Claire High School. But apparently participating in a team sport didn’t act as a conduit to popularity, or at least to a group of friends, as it usually does.

Bad breakup. Larry’s parents later referred to him as a loner.

Although it didn’t cite a source, the Daily News would later report that young Larry sometimes fell into “psychotic trances” and, as a teenager, sexually abused some of his female relatives.

Shari's car left in front of the Smiths' mailbox
Shari Smith stopped at the mailbox most days

As an adult, he worked for Eastern Airlines in Charlotte for a time. True to the profiler’s theory, Larry had married and gone through a bitter divorce. He lost custody of a son.

Criminal history. It’s not clear whether it started before or after his failed marriage but, by the time he reached the age of 26, Larry had begun a history of “assault and battery of a high and aggravated nature,” according to The State.

In one instance, he used a knife during a failed attempt to abduct 19-year-old Dale Sauls Howell behind a Super Duper after telling her, “Let’s go to Charlotte and party.” Another time, he flashed a start gun in an attempt to grab a female University of South Carolina student. He committed a third, similar crime, but served time for only one of the attacks. He spent three years in the Central Correctional Institute, and Judge Owens T. Cobb urged him to get psychiatric help.

He didn’t follow through on all the counseling recommended over the years, but he did spend some time at a VA hospital, where a psychiatrist concluded he had schizoid personality disorder, a condition marked by limited social interaction and minimal emotional engagement.

Vengeful public. At the time of his arrest in 1985, he was living with his parents— whom a local newspaper described as a respected couple — in their house on a cul-de-sac on Old Orchard Road in Lake Murray. Larry’s brother was a lawyer.

Unless you count Bells’ admission that Larry kept to himself in his youth, no one offered any hints to explain the genesis of his depravity. Neighbors described Larry as kind and helpful, according to The State.

Those who knew Shari Smith, however, didn’t feel too charitable toward Larry. One suggested tying him to a stake in a field and letting “people to do him what he did to those girls.”

Stalked and attacked. Larry went on trial in 1986. He showed up in court wearing a forest green prison uniform with his auburn hair cut close to his head.

Larry Gene Bell in police custody
Larry Gene Bell in custody

“Larry was just — well, our Larry,” his mother testified. “We accepted him the way any family would accept a child. They say all children are different.”

Prosecutors made a case that Larry had spotted Shari outside a drugstore, then followed her home in his Buick and grabbed her when she stopped at the mailbox. He took her to the Sheppards’ house, where she wrote the note. Then he tied her to the bed, raped her, and suffocated her with tape.

Larry acknowledged that the voice on the taped phone calls with the Smiths belonged to him.

“At different points while the tapes were played,” the Columbia Record reported, “Bell shook with laughter, cried silently, watched the courtroom clock, and cracked his knuckles.”

Nutty prisoner. As if Larry hadn’t already freaked out the courtroom with his previous antics, while he was testifying, he did such things as turning to the jurors, cackling, and referring to his defense lawyer as his “professional teddy bear” who “takes care of me.”

During Larry’s evenings at the Berkeley County Jail, he paced, talked to himself, and sang “Amazing Grace” to the tune of “Silent Night,” according to The State.

So was Larry a lunatic who couldn’t control his own actions? A psychiatrist testified that she believed Larry’s antics were all an act — he wasn’t crazy at all, just a sadistic sociopath looking to escape severe punishment.

Show’s over. The fact that he never asked his victims’ families for ransom suggested that what he really craved was the thrill of frightening them, giving them false hope, crushing them, and then further tormenting them.

In 1975, Larry Gene Bell tried to abduct Dale Sauls Howell, seen here in a Rock Hill Herald clipping

After deliberating for 47 minutes, the jury found Larry guilty of kidnapping and first-degree murder. He was sentenced to die. (In a separate trial, he would receive the same sentence for killing Debra May Helmick.)

With the trial ended, “it was a little like the circus leaving town,” according to The State. The crowds of spectators disappeared, leaving Route 17 no longer jammed, and the “supply of short bottle Classic Cokes at the county courthouse didn’t run out for a change,” wrote reporter Margaret N. O’Shea.

And more disturbing behavior. Larry made numerous post-conviction salvos, including an appeal to the South Carolina Supreme Court in 1987, a post-conviction relief request in 1991, and an appeal to a U.S. district court in 1995.

His lawyers claimed he was schizophrenic, thought he was Jesus Christ, and was too mentally ill to face capital punishment. His behavior in prison included defiling himself with feces and drinking his own urine, according to UPI.

Still, all of Larry’s legal efforts failed.

Dustup with protestors. He turned down the option of dying via lethal injection and asked for electrocution instead. John Douglas said that he suspected Larry was playing tough guy by choosing the drama of the electric chair.

“Now, maybe I can get a rest,” said Donnie Helmick, Debra Helmick’s father. “Kill the son of a bitch.”

Donnie tangled with some of the anti-capital punishment demonstrators gathered outside the prison on Oct. 4, 1996 – the day when Larry Gene Bell became the second-to-last person killed in South Carolina’s electric chair.

Early victim’s memories. “We are relieved that the sentence has been carried out,” said Rick Cartrette, Shari’s uncle, as reported by UPI, “but just because it has been carried out, don’t forget Shari or Debra.”

A recent picture of Shari's sister, Dawn Smith Jordan
Shari’s older sister, seen here in an image from her website, is known as Dawn Smith Jordan today. Dawn became Miss South Carolina of 1986 and is now an inspirational speaker

Also present that day was Dale Sauls Howell, one of the women Larry attempted to abduct in the 1970s. She would later tell The Rock Hill Herald that he held a knife to her stomach before her screams elicited help. After the attack, she started sleeping with a baseball bat next to her in bed. Now, she was able to watch the hearse carry away Larry Gene Bell’s body.

He would never again torment his victims or their loved ones.

Tomes on the case. Forensic photographer Rita Y. Shuler, who worked on the murder case, interviewed Dale and other victims for Murder in the Midlands: Larry Gene Bell and the 28 Days of Terror that Shook South Carolina (The History Press, 2007).

Shari’s mother also wrote a book, The Rose of Shari by Hilda Cartrette Smith, which was published in 2001 and got good Amazon reviews, but is hard to find for sale online. (Hilda, who Forensic Files viewers will remember for maintaining a calm demeanor under duress, died in 2003 at the age of 61.)

The murder also inspired the CBS movie Nightmare in Columbia County, which tells the story from Dawn’s perspective. The 1991 effort got 5.6 out of 10 stars on imdb.com — but has miraculously landed on Netflix under the name Victim of Beauty, so you can check it out and form your own opinion if you like.

That’s all for this post. Until next time, cheers. R.R.


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Collier Boyle Today: Moving Past Murder

John and Noreen Boyle’s Son Reveals More of His Story
(‘Foundation of Lies,’ Forensic Files)

When Noreen Boyle suddenly disappeared from her home in Mansfield, Ohio, her husband, John “Jack” Boyle, told friends and family that she simply had gone off on a jaunt. No big deal.

Collier Landry Boyle wearing a black t-shirt
Collier Landry

But their 11-year-old son, Collier Boyle, immediately went into overdrive.

He sensed something terrible had happened. Collier pushed for an investigation that ultimately led to the discovery of Noreen’s body buried beneath the concrete floor of a new home in Erie, Pennsylvania that Jack hoped to share with his pregnant mistress.

In 1990, Collier served as the star witness for the prosecution at the sensational murder trial. A jury convicted Jack Boyle, M.D., a popular doctor with a huge practice, and he’s lived behind razor wire ever since.

His son, now known as Collier Landry, grew up to become a freelance cinematographer out of Los Angeles and pitched the idea for the documentary A Murder in Mansfield, which first aired on the ID Network in 2018.

In 2021, Collier started a podcast series. He aims to make Moving Past Murder not just a vehicle for storytelling but also therapy and outreach for listeners.

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Collier recently answered some of my questions about his work and life. Edited excerpts of our conversation appear below:

Forensic Files and the ID documentary told the story of your mother’s homicide. Where does the podcast fit in? It’s a true-crime podcast from someone who knows about murder. My message is that you can come through extraordinary things and be a functional person. I’ve stared at the nadir and survived. My mother gave me resiliency. I don’t want her death to be in vain.

What was your mother like? My mom was a kind, giving, wonderful person who often put the needs of others before her own. Every year for Christmas, I would have to donate half my toys to other children because I was fortunate and I should share with others who need it. 

She disappeared on New Year’s Eve 1990. How did your father explain that to you? He said she took a little vacation. I knew my mother would never leave my sister and me.

What did you do first? I stored notes with her phone numbers in a Garfield. I was secretly calling her friends to find out where she was. That’s how everyone knew she was gone. People were devastated. She was the light of people’s lives and they were shocked this could happen to her.

Noreen Boyle in a pink Polo shirt with the sea in the background
Noreen Boyle was sweet but ‘didn’t suffer fools,’ according to her son

How did the disappearance transition from a missing-person case to a murder investigation? A Mansfield police officer named Dave Messmore saw the case cross his desk over a holiday when there wasn’t a lot going on. I told him, “She’s dead.” Dave didn’t care if my dad was a doctor — he was going to investigate him like any suspect.

It turned out that my father had been accused of molesting my uncle’s daughters and the Maryland police were about to arrest him for that crime, but the girls couldn’t go through the trauma again. The police in Maryland believed he killed my mom.

What happened to you after they finally arrested your dad? My entire family abandoned me. My father’s side didn’t want anything to do with me. And my mother’s side didn’t either because I look like my father. I went into foster care before I was finally adopted.

Your sister, Elizabeth, was just a toddler when this happened. Where did she go? When my sister and I were playing together in a foster home, they would take her away and say we weren’t bonded so they could adopt her out. I haven’t been able to find her.

Can your listeners relate to your history with your father? The manipulations by my father are incredible. He’s written around 500 letters to me from prison. I read the letters on the podcast and people say, “This is just like my abusive father and husband.”

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You’ve said you can relate to the emotional side of sheltering in place during the Covid-19 crisis. How so? When I was 12 years old, for six months, I was basically not allowed to talk to anyone because I was preparing to testify.

So I get it with the pandemic. There are kids in abusive homes for whom school is their only relief. Now they’re stuck at home.

Have you ever found yourself attracted to someone who shares your dad’s traits? I got involved with a woman and then realized she was narcissistic and a horrible person. And when I broke up with her, she wanted to destroy me. I’m glad we ended it before the pandemic because if I’d been stuck with her in the same place, I think I would have offed myself. True narcissism is so insidious.

You can hear the Moving Past Murder podcast, including an episode in which Collier interviewed me about my blog, on Spotify or Audible or YouTube or Apple Podcasts.

That’s all for this week. Until next time, cheers. RR


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Gerald Mason: A Rapist and Killer Self-Reforms

He Got Away With It — But Only for 46 Years
(“Marked for Life,” Forensic Files)

“Marked for Life” is one of just a handful of Forensic Files episodes involving a respected retiree harboring a horrible secret from his own ancient history.

Gerald Mason as an old man
Gerald Mason as a young man

Howard Elkins, for example, a long-married former factory owner, committed suicide a day after police showed up at his house in 1999 bearing evidence that he killed his pregnant girlfriend in 1967.

The Blowback. Gerald Mason, the subject of this week’s post, caused an even greater tragedy and eluded the law for longer. During one night in 1957, he terrorized and robbed four teenagers, sexually assaulted one of them, and shot two police officers to death. Investigators didn’t identify and track him down until 2003.

But instead of taking his own life, he admitted to his crimes and went to prison.

In cases like Mason’s — in which most of those involved have either died or stopped talking to the media — I like to look into the reactions that friends and neighbors had upon first learning about the past of the once upright-seeming man who lived peacefully among them.

Happy days. I also searched for more information about what Mason did between the time he vanished into a prosaic life and the day the law exposed him as a rapist and double murderer.

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So let’s get going on the recap of “Marked for Life” along with extra information from internet research:

The episode starts out with black & white footage of Eisenhower-era police cars, beachgoers in swimsuits that didn’t require Brazilian waxing, and several scenes from Leave It to Beaver. It sets the stage for what Forensic Files calls a simpler, more innocent time (although it was probably pretty much like today except the ugly things stayed beneath the surface).

An El Segundo street scene with palm trees
El Segundo lies in Los Angeles County just 10 minutes from the dimly lit murder scene

Fateful foursome. As if the producers weren’t already going above and beyond with the great retro clips, they found and interviewed one of the teenage robbery victims, Robert E. Dewar, a man well into his AARP years by the time the episode first aired in 2005.

On July 22, 1957, Robert and his buddy and their dates were parked at a lover’s lane on Van Ness Avenue in Hawthorne, near El Segundo, California. When Robert rolled down a window, a man pointing a firearm at him suddenly appeared. The gunman took their money and jewelry and made all of them undress, bound them, raped one of the girls inside the car, and then stole their 1949 Ford sedan.

Parting shot. About an hour and half later, two police officers — who had no idea that Mason had committed violent felonies earlier that night — stopped him for going through a red light on Rosecrans Avenue and Sepulveda Boulevard, and prepared to give him a ticket. Mason should have just taken the summons and gone on his way. Instead, he pulled out his gun and shot the officers three times each. Richard Phillips, 28, radioed for an ambulance, but he died before it got there, as did partner Milton Curtis, 25.

Milton Curtis with his wife and son and daughter
Rookie police officer Milton Curtis with the family he left behind

Ballistic evidence at the scene suggested that Phillips, known for his marksmanship, had shot the attacker once before he fled.

But the mystery man had vanished after ditching the stolen vehicle.

Police found skirts belonging to the female victims inside the car.

Random finds. Robert Dewar described the assailant as soft spoken and uneducated with a Southern accent. Charlie Porter, a police officer who had driven past the scene where Phillips and Curtis had just stopped Gerald Mason, described him as about 6 feet tall, having short hair, and appearing arrogant (apparently a law officer can spot that from a distance), according to the 48 Hours episode “The Ghosts of El Segundo.”

Investigators lifted a thumbprint from the stolen car’s steering wheel but found no matches in their files.

Progress on the case stalled.

Richard Phillips' wife and three young children
A newspaper clipping showing Richard Phillips’ survivors

Three years later, Manhattan Beach homeowner Doug Tuley turned over two watches and a .22 caliber handgun he found while digging up weeds on his property. The timepieces belonged to the robbed teenagers. The attacker had apparently dropped the items while fleeing after abandoning the stolen car on that night in 1957.

Lots of legwork. Police traced the gun’s serial number to a Sears in Shreveport, Louisiana, which recorded the buyer’s name as “G.D. Wilson.” The gun, the least expensive one the store carried, cost $29.95.

Investigators discovered that a “George D. Wilson” had rented a room in a YMCA near the Sears store, but he’d given a fake address in Florida.

Police spent years checking up on every George D. Wilson they could find, but none panned out.

The case even made a 1958 issue of True Detective magazine, which appealed to the public for help catching the so-called Lover’s Lane Bandit (although “bandit” sounds like a rather light suggestion of his crimes). But that and other media efforts never yielded a viable suspect.

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Confronted by his past. Then, in 2002, a woman told El Segundo police that her late uncle had bragged about killing two police officers. It turned out to be a dead end, but it kick-started interest in the case again. Investigators used the newly available Automated Fingerprint Identification System, also known as AFIS, to run the fingerprint from the teenagers’ stolen car. Up popped the name of Gerald Fiten Mason, a prosperous retiree who lived in South Carolina.

His handwriting matched the signatures on the YMCA and Sears records.

Police, who surveilled him for weeks and observed him playing golf with friends and enjoying other innocent diversions, finally knocked on his door on Jan. 26, 2003. Depending on which media account you read, his response was utter disbelief, denial, annoyance, or cockiness.

“His jaw dropped to his knees,” officer Dan McElderry told the The Times of Shreveport Louisiana.

Successful entrepreneur. Yet a different publication said Mason’s attitude was basically, “Why are ya’ bugging me for that now?” Another article described Mason as acting as though he didn’t understand why they suspected him. But he immediately spoke of getting a lawyer once the lawmen materialized at his house, one source said.

A high school yearbook photo of Robert E. Dewar
Robert E. Dewar around the time Gerald Mason attacked him and his friends

Gerald Fiten Mason had made a small fortune by buying, selling, and operating gas stations and convenience stores, according to The Times of Shreveport. He was living quietly in Columbia, the same South Carolina city where he was born on Jan. 31, 1934. He had served a year in jail for burglary in 1956 but had no other criminal record whatsoever.

The army veteran was ensconced in a “comfortable suburban tract” with his wife, Betty Claire Blackmon Mason, the New York Times reported. The couple had two daughters and three grandchildren.

Loyal to Dad. A neighbor told the NY Times that the law must have the wrong man — why would a fugitive live out in the open as he had done for years in South Carolina?

A friend told CBS that the revelations were “flabbergasting.”

Jerri Mason Whittaker, daughter of the accused killer and rapist, would later tell People magazine that she “could not have had a better father.”

Richard Phillips in his police uniform
Richard Phillips

According to an LA Times account, Mason “was a genial fellow who checked up on neighboring widows and was always willing to lend them a hand with a man’s traditional chores: painting a mailbox or fixing an electrical glitch.”

Reunion of sorts. Dayton Sisson, who had lived next-door to Mason for 30 years, told the media that the two of them helped each other out when one needed to cut down invasive trees or renovate his garage. “If it hadn’t been for him, I wouldn’t have no garage like this,” Sisson told the Associated Press.

Mason went bowling regularly and was an “above average player.”

After his arrest, he was detained at a Columbia facility but ultimately returned to Los Angeles County to face a judge.

“Officers that hadn’t been around for 20 years came in walking on canes,” Assistant District Attorney Darren Levine told CBS.

Back bears evidence. Also in attendance was Howard Speaks, the investigator who had lifted the fingerprint off the steering wheel of the stolen car back in 1957.

In March 2003, Gerald Mason, who had a bullet-shaped wound in his back thanks to the dying Richard Phillip’s accuracy, pleaded guilty to two counts of murder. It’s not clear why he didn’t face any charges for rape.

Gerald Mason cries in court in 2003
Gerald Mason in court

He teared up while apologizing for his actions, saying they didn’t “fit in his life” and he didn’t know why he did it. Mason would later characterize the crime spree as a baffling anomaly. (But he certainly prepared for it like a pro, with surgical tape, a flashlight, and a gun. And a handy pseudonym.)

Deprived youngster? Mason said he had the gun only for safety while hitchhiking and that he ended up in the lover’s lane while drifting.

He said he didn’t remember why he raped the girl.

He also tried playing the unhappy childhood card, alleging that he had never had a normal family life (although he had two brothers who attended his hearing in South Carolina, according to the LA Times).

Sorry, fella. The families of his victims didn’t feel a whole lot of sympathy for the guy.

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“Your cowardly act shattered our lives forever,” said Carolyn Phillips, the daughter of Richard Phillips. “You caused our mother to become a widow with three babies to raise alone.”

The court honored Mason’s request to serve his sentence in South Carolina so he could be closer to his wife and children.

Mason lost a 2009 bid for parole.

On Jan 22, 2017, he died of natural causes in prison, never having quite explained how he rehabbed himself into a law-abiding neighbor and family man in the 46 years since he’d left trauma and tragedy in his wake.

That’s all for this post. Until next time, cheers. RR


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Forensic Files‘ 400 episodes are packed with elements we’ll always remember but still want to see again — and again.

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Roy Beck: Mullet-Wearing Maniac

Virginia Russell Exits Prison and Meets a Sociopath
(“Trouble Brewing,” Forensic Files)

If Roy Gene Beck Jr. had any redeeming qualities, they didn’t come across on Forensic Files or any other sources of intelligence about him. The young man from Columbia, South Carolina, financed his crack cocaine habit by robbing women. He raped at least one and killed another.

Roy Beck Jr.

Once the law caught up with Roy, he tried to blame his crimes on a friend — a nice guy who had helped him.

Speedy read. Fortunately, the criminal justice system sorted out the truth and convicted Roy.

For this week, I looked into where Roy Beck is today. This will be a quick update (which for my blog means 1,200 words) because the case didn’t get a huge amount of press coverage, although a tantalizing tidbit about Roy bubbled up.

So let’s get going on the recap of “Trouble Brewing,” along with extra information drawn from internet research. Because Virginia Russell is the murder victim in this episode, let’s start with her story:

Boyfriend killed. Virginia Russell had long struggled with a drinking problem, which played a role in a horrible accident.

While the South Carolina resident was driving her boyfriend home after a party, her car veered out of its lane, did somersaults, and ejected both of them.

He died.

Virginia, whose blood-alcohol level was twice the legal limit, got a six-year sentence for vehicular homicide.

Final page. In an effort to get back on her feet financially after she served her time, Virginia began working for an escort service, although she told her family it was a house-cleaning company that paged her when jobs came in.

Forensic Files notes that some names and images were changed for TV, but this shot of Virginia Russell, shown on more than one series, looks like the real deal

On Nov. 12, 1996, her beeper went off at 8:54 p.m. and she left for what she called a cleaning job.

While Forensic Files portrays Virginia as at home with family when she got the page, the New Detectives reported that she was at a hospital visiting a cousin’s sick baby.

Scattered evidence. Whatever the scenario, the next day, a man walking his dog found the body of a woman lying face down near Owens Field Park in Rosewood, South Carolina. Her hair was soaked with blood, her stockings had runs in them, and she was missing a shoe.

At the scene, investigators found two Michelob Light bottles, shell casings, a small purse with $2 in coins, and a handbag with no money inside.

Fingerprints identified the victim as Virginia Russell, age 30.

Ruse bought. Inside her car, which was abandoned in a parking lot in Olympia, police discovered Virginia’s blood, a bullet casing, the missing shoe, and a Michelob Light carton with one full bottle inside.

They theorized Virginia and the killer drank beer in the car before he shot her, dragged her to the soccer field, fired two more bullets into her, and stole the bills from her bag.

The victim’s aunt, who still believed the nighttime cleaning job story, mentioned to investigators that Virginia always had a lot of cash. They believed the murderer robbed her of hundreds of dollars.

Charitable pal. Police traced the pager call to an apartment occupied by a young man called Justin Bullard on Forensic Files (he’s referred to as Richard Bullard in court papers — it’s not clear what his real name is, so we’ll keep it at Justin for now).

Justin owned an aquarium-cleaning business and lived with a roommate, Trevett Foster. Lately, Justin had allowed his hard-up friend Roy Beck Jr. to stay there, too.

The Columbia-area athletic field where Virginia Russell’s body lay

Although Justin insisted he himself had no involvement in the murder, the forensics and circumstantial evidence suggested otherwise.

Yeah, right. First of all, Justin had no way of proving his alibi that he was home alone when the homicide occurred. He owned a Makarov semiautomatic 380-caliber, which ballistic tests showed was used to execute Virginia. At his apartment, police found a phone book with pages advertising escort services ripped out. And Justin’s black military-style boots had high-impact splatter of Virginia’s blood.

Police officers must have rolled their eyes out of their sockets upon hearing Justin’s explanation — that someone else must have used his stuff in the murder and then returned it to his apartment to frame him.

But tests on a hair found at the murder scene showed it more likely came from Roy than Justin.

Prior felony. And it turned out that a crime against another professional escort had taken place at Roy Beck’s former residence on Whitney Street in Olympia.

Inside, the call girl found the place was lit by candles, but it wasn’t because Roy was a romantic: His electricity had been turned off due to lack of payment.

Roy, who had used the name David Davis when requesting the date, held a knife to the woman’s throat, raped her, and robbed her of about $300, according to court papers. He told her to run away and not look back.

That guy. The escort, age 20, identified Roy Beck from a photo lineup. Cops found Michelob bottles in Roy’s place and confirmed they came from the same factory and batch as the ones from Virginia’s murder scene.

Roy Beck’s new
haircut was more
appropriate for
court but it couldn’t save his case

And Richland County South Carolina’s law officers already knew Roy Beck Jr. He had started committing burglaries to finance his crack cocaine addiction in his teens.

Under police questioning, Roy insisted that Justin Bullard — the kind-hearted friend whom Roy was freeloading off of — committed the murder.

Premeditated. But prosecutors had little trouble proving Roy did it.

An associate named Larry Barlow testified that Roy told him about a plan to rob and rape prostitutes and invited him to participate, but he declined.

Investigators believed that Roy and Virginia already knew each other before the night he robbed her, so she would have been able to ID him. After they enjoyed Michelob Lites together, he shot her, took her money, then abandoned the car and quietly returned the boots and gun to Justin’s apartment to transfer the blame to him.

Disobedient con. Prosecutors won a conviction against Roy, and in November 1997, Circuit Court Judge Thomas Cooper handed him a sentence of life without the possibility of parole.

Roy lost an appeal three years later.

Today, he’s still in prison and making his share of trouble on the inside.

Don’t Be My Guest. According to South Carolina’s Department of Corrections, Roy has committed 21 infractions involving possession of a cell phone or narcotics, plus one violation for possession of a negotiable instrument, which apparently means he got hold of a forbidden form of payment.

For those misdeeds, he’s received losses of visitation privileges for as many as 720 days (nonetheless he’s kept himself trim and presentable with just 124 pounds on his 5-foot-6-inch frame), plus revocations of canteen, TV, and telephone privileges.

Over the years, the state has moved Roy around to a number of prisons. Since 2017, he has resided in Perry Correctional Institution in Pelzer.

Roy Beck Jr. in a 2016 prison mug shot

Obscure fact. The DOC website lists Roy, who was born on Jan. 19, 1972, as ineligible for furlough, parole, or release.

There his story pretty much ends, but as mentioned, an interesting piece of trivia did pop up via a message board on the Columbia Closings website.

A commenter said that Roy is the son of Roy Beck Sr., who owned a gentlemen’s club called ChippenDolls that riled up some Columbia residents in 1990 by switching from topless entertainers to completely naked ones.

In December 2021, an email from a reader who worked at the (now-defunct) club as a cocktail waitress confirmed that the two Roys were indeed father and son — and Jr. was one scary dude.

That’s all for this post. Until next time, cheers. RR


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Margaret Rudin: A Gold Digger Craps Out

The Fifth Time’s Not the Charm for Las Vegas Millionaire Ron Rudin
(“For Love or Money,” Forensic Files)

If you’re looking for a sympathetic Forensic Files murder victim, you might prefer to read about Daniel McConnell or Charlotte Grabbe instead of Ron Rudin.

Margaret and Ron Rudin

The Las Vegas residential real estate developer wore garish jewelry, cheated on his wives, foreclosed on homes, and evicted tenants. He accrued so many enemies, whether avowed or suspected, that he maintained an arsenal of firearms and a pack of hunting dogs inside his house and a concrete wall and barbed wire fence outside.

Bid for bucks. Of course, that doesn’t mean he deserved to be shot four times in his sleep and then thrown in the desert so that spouse No. 5 Margaret Rudin could claim her share of his $10 million to $12 million estate.

On “For Love or Money,” the Forensic Files episode about Ron Rudin’s murder, one of his ex-wives mentioned he’d done good things for people during his life — but she didn’t specify what.

For this week, I checked around and found redeeming information about the human being behind the bling. I also did background research on the elegant and proper-looking Margaret — one of many Forensic Files villains (Craig Rabinowitz, Janice Dodson) whose plans to become independently wealthy by eliminating a spouse backfired.

Illinois boy. So let’s get going on the recap of “For Love or Money” along with information from internet research:

Ron Rudin was born an only child on Nov. 14, 1930, and grew up in Joliet, Illinois. His mother, Stella, stayed at home and enjoyed a close relationship with him, according to the book If I Die by Michael Fleeman. His father, Roy, had a high-paying job as a chemical company executive.

A look behind the barricades: Ron’s house was nice, not grand

Still, Ron didn’t live a charmed life.

At the age of 10, he saw Roy die of a heart attack.

Veteran returns. As a student, Ron tried to avoid the Korean War draft by joining the ROTC and later serving in the Illinois National Guard — but the government nabbed him anyway.

He survived overseas duty and moved to Las Vegas to make his mark on the world.

After gaining experience as a construction worker, Ron started his own real estate business, building houses and also buying and flipping existing ones. He became a gun dealer and amassed a collection valued at $3 million.

Affinity for alcohol. Ron shared his success with his mother, moving her to Nevada so they could spend more time together. He liked taking her out to dinner at the Las Vegas Country Club.

In his off hours, he enjoyed hunting and flying airplanes.

Ron and Margaret married in Vegas

But Ron had another favorite pastime that wasn’t so wonderful: alcohol consumption. Loyal ex-wife Caralynne Rudin — who gave interviews to multiple true-crime shows — defended him, saying drunkenness didn’t make him abusive. But Margaret would claim otherwise.

Shiny, shiny. On the bright side, Ron had no interest in gambling. He stayed out of Sin City’s casinos.

Still, he did delight in flashing his wealth. He wore a six-carat diamond ring and drove a perpetually spotless black Cadillac with vanity plates reading “RRR-1.”

Another of the handsome, olive-skinned entrepreneur’s favorite accessories was a wife — five of them in all.

Wife commits suicide. He met the first two, secretary Donna L. Brinkmeyer and insurance agent Caralynne Holland, through his work. His union with Donna, whom he married in 1962, barely lasted a year. He had better luck with the glamorous-looking Caralynne. They made it work from 1971 to 1975 and stayed friends despite that Ron had cheated on her.

Next up came a horrible tragedy. Ron’s third wife, hairdresser Peggy June Rudin, shot herself in the master bedroom inside Ron’s fortress-like house at 5113 Alpine Place. She reportedly suffered from depression.

A couple of sources referred to Peggy as Ron’s one true love. (Of course, it’s possible that she died before he had a chance to get tired of her.) After Peggy’s death, which happened around Christmastime, Ron would always feel distressed when December rolled around, according to “Vegas Black Widow,” an episode of the TV series Sex, Lies & Murder

Ron Rudin circa 1974 (in a photo from the Southern Nevada Jewish Heritage Project libraries) and
shortly before his death

New squeeze. Media accounts didn’t mention the identity of Ron’s fourth wife, but she was inconsequential compared to his fifth, Margaret.

The pair met at the First Church of Religious Science. “She was outgoing. She was vivacious, very sociable and dressed nicely,” Michael Fleeman told KTNV-TV.

Margaret was slender and had blue eyes and a fine-boned face. Some YouTube viewers commented that she looked like Meryl Streep. Newspapers described her as a socialite.

Modest abode. The couple married in 1987, when Ron was in his late 50s; Margaret was 12 years younger and had two adult children.

Like all of Ron’s wives, Margaret lived with him in the two-bedroom two-bath abode behind the seven-foot barrier. The house lacked curb appeal but — location, location, location — it sat right behind Ron Rudin Realty’s office in a strip mall, so Ron could walk to work.

Margaret and Ron had their ups and downs.

The guy had charm. “They loved each other passionately, but they had these very, very volatile fights,” Fleeman told ABC-KTNV. “At one point [in 1988] there was gunfire, literally. A gun went off. Nobody got shot, but that’s how this relationship was.”

A gun with a legal silencer ended Ron Rudin's life
The gun that ended Ron Rudin’s life

The couple split up and then reconciled.

Margaret would later tell 48 Hours that Ron was charismatic and mysterious and she wanted to make their relationship work in spite of his imbibing and his affair with a woman named Sue Lyles.

Kept at a distance. Ron cared enough about Margaret to bankroll her when she decided to open her own antiques shop. He bought her a Lincoln Continental.

But that didn’t mean he trusted her. One of his guns outfitted with a federally registered silencer went missing during the first year of their marriage and at some point, he suspected Margaret of taking it. Ron reported the theft to the police — his gun business was lawful and legitimate.

Ron didn’t let Margaret too close to his finances. She received an allowance.

Insidious plot. After discovering that Margaret was eavesdropping on his conversations at work, Ron removed the phone line between the house and the real estate office. She and her younger sister, Dona Cantrell, later secretly installed hidden recording devices there.

Peggy Rudin, Caralynne Rudin

Just weeks before Christmas in 1994, Ron made a disturbing discovery, according to his best buddy John Reuther.

“He says he’s found a piece of paper in the house, ‘Margaret is diagramming out how she’s going to split up all my money, the estate with her relatives and her friends,'” Reuther told ABC-KTLV.

Nomadic upbringing. Yikes, so who exactly was the woman who Ron had taken to the altar?

Margaret Frost was born in Memphis circa 1942, and by the time she got her high school diploma, her family had moved to 15 states and she’d had to change schools 22 times, according to an interview from jail she gave to the TV series Mugshots for the episode “Margaret Rudin: Death in the Desert.”

She described her father as stern and fanatically religious.

Eager to leave home, at the age of 18, Margaret married a 20-year-old carpenter. They settled in Winthrop Harbor, Illinois, and had a son and a daughter. That union lasted 10 years and Margaret went on to acquire and divorce two more husbands before she took her act to Vegas.

Margaret Rudin with her first husband and two children
She wasn’t always glam: Margaret with her first husband and their children

No jackpot. There, she married a boat dealer, but that relationship sank quickly.

Although Margaret had snagged progressively wealthier men, she didn’t score lucrative settlements in any of her divorces, according to American Justice. (Her daughter, Kristina Mason, who appeared on Mugshots, denied that Margaret was a gold digger.)

Ron’s extramarital girlfriend, Sue Lyles, said her children had received threatening anonymous letters about the affair. Sue suspected Margaret sent them in hopes she would end the relationship.

Lateness unusual. But Margaret didn’t need to worry about Ron cheating on her for much longer. He disappeared on Dec. 18, 1994.

His employees at the real estate office got worried immediately when he didn’t show up for work — Ron always got there on time — and notified authorities.

Margaret also reported him missing but not until two days after he vanished.

Names of the disgruntled. A week later, police located his Cadillac in the parking lot of the Crazy Horse Too, a local gentlemen’s club. The car’s exterior was covered with mud, a worrisome sign because Ron liked to keep his autos glistening. Inside the vehicle, they found some small blood spots too degraded for DNA testing.

Ron Rudin owned the strip mall that housed his real estate office. Margaret’s antiques store was just down the way

Investigators got a list of all Ron’s evicted tenants in case one of them had gone homicidal. (His buddy Jerry Stump, however, would later tell the Las Vegas Sun that Ron was a kind landlord who gave tenants extra time to come up with their rent money.)

No solid leads came until three weeks later, when hikers reported finding a skull near Lake Mojave. The discoverers knew right away it didn’t come from an animal. They could see fillings in the teeth. Lying near the scene, they found a white-gold bracelet with diamonds that spelled “Ron.” Caralynne had bought it for Ron during their marriage.

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Cleanliness compromised. Someone had incinerated the remains of the corpse from the neck down.

Dental records proved the skull belonged to Ron Rudin, dead at 64.

The skull had four bullet wounds from a .22-caliber Ruger. Knife marks suggested that whoever killed Ron Rudin decapitated him.

Cosa Nostra? Investigators came to believe that someone other than Ron had left his car at the strip club (he never patronized the establishment) to throw them off course. A manager there allegedly had ties to organized crime.

Margaret’s daughter,
Kristina Mason,
stayed loyal to her

Ron reportedly brushed up against the mafia in a conflict with Tony Spilotro — later portrayed by Joe Pesci in Casino — over a real estate auction, according to “Vanished in Vegas,” an episode of The Perfect Murder.

But the bedroom Margaret and Ron shared told a much more relevant story than the Crazy Horse Too.

Sounds like Scott Peterson. Margaret had recently had the room recarpeted (flaming-red flag). Her contractor, Augustine Lovato, contacted police later and said that he found sticky bloodlike residue on the old rug. The walls and ceiling lit up when detectives sprayed luminal.

She suggested the blood came from Ron’s sneezing during his frequent nosebleeds or that it was left over from Peggy’s long-ago suicide.

Police noticed Margaret referred to Ron in the past tense and started renovating the master bedroom into an office before anyone knew he was dead.

Special conditions. But she wouldn’t get much time to enjoy the remodeling job. As the investigation continued to crawl along in 1995, trustees of Ron’s estate booted Margaret out of the house and seized cars and other assets in Ron’s name. They cut off her checking account.

A fake ID with Margaret in a brown wig while she claimed to be a nurse
Margaret, pictured on a fake nurse ID, had books about disguising identities

In Ron’s will, he stipulated that if he died by violent means, there should be an investigation into any person with financial reasons for wanting him gone —and he instructed the trustees to disinherit such an individual.

Margaret, however, didn’t know about those directives in the will. As far as she knew, Ron’s demise would mean she’d inherit millions.

Discovery in the water. That never happened, but after haggling with the trustees, Margaret received a $500,000 to $600,000 settlement in 1996.

The murder investigation continued.

A scuba diver had found Ron’s missing gun with its silencer in Lake Mead. Police determined the old-timey firearm (“That gun looks like you have to walk 10 paces before you shoot it,” wrote YouTube commenter Katelyn Young) was the murder weapon.

Dona Cantrell testified against her sister

Gone girl. Margaret didn’t seem too worried yet. According to Las Vegas Metro Detective Phil Ramos’ interview with American Justice, she had once remarked that a “Clark County grand jury couldn’t indict a ham sandwich.”

Law officers generally don’t appreciate that kind of talk, and Margaret was indicted on charges of first-degree murder, accessory to murder, and unlawful use of a listening device.

Detectives moved to arrest her on April 18, 1997, but she had disappeared.

Border crossing. Despite that America’s Most Wanted aired segments asking for help finding her, Margaret remained on the run for years and had quite a fantastic voyage, thanks to her adeptness at changing her appearance and making fake ID cards. She used the names Anne Boatwright, Susan Simmons, and Leigh Brown.

She lived among a community of U.S. retirees in Mexico, stayed in a YMCA while working in a gift shop in Phoenix, and ended up about as far away from Las Vegas in miles and culture as one can get in the U.S. — Revere, Massachusetts.

Whatever post-Ron life Margaret hoped to attain, it probably didn’t look like the drab apartment complex where police found her after tracing packages sent between her and her family members. She was living with a retired firefighter she met in Guadalajara.

Self-protection. He and the rest of the buddies she acquired while on the lam couldn’t believe the grandmotherly lady in the black wig was a felon. “She’s just too sweet,” friend Carol Reagor told the Las Vegas Review-Journal. “It’s not in her nature.”

Joseph Lundergan, another friend Margaret met in Mexico, let her stay with him briefly in Massachusetts and accepted her collect calls after she went to prison.

Margaret with her legal team

Margaret said that she concealed her identity because she feared her late husband’s business associates. When you’re helpless and you’re totally alone, you do tend to, maybe, panic,” she told 48 Hours in 2001.

Israeli connection. Prosecutors made a case that while Ron Rudin lay sleeping, Margaret shot him three times on one side of the head and once on the other, put his 6-foot-tall body into the missing trunk and burned it, then left his bracelet nearby for identification.

Forensic Files didn’t mention it, but before Ron Rudin’s disappearance, Margaret had been spending a lot of time with a 40-year-old Middle Easterner named Yehuda Sharon. Police suspected the two were having an affair and that he had helped her carry Ron — how else could the featherweight Margaret haul Ron’s 220-pound body?

Yehuda, a former Israeli intelligence officer, denied everything.

Cue the violin music. The trial of the so-called Black Widow of Las Vegas kicked off in March 2001. Although the dramatic, self-indulgent storytelling used by defense team Michael Amador and Tom Pitaro annoyed the judge so much that he appointed additional defense lawyers to dilute their irritating effect — and they ultimately lost the case — they did put up a valiant fight for Margaret.

Apartment where Margaret hid in Massachusetts
The apartment where Margaret
hid in Revere, Massachusetts

“The entire state’s case is nothing but a house of cards waiting for just a slightest breeze to knock it down,” Amador told 48 Hours.

Amador (pictured with Margaret in the image at the top of the page) portrayed his client as a “poor widow left out in the cold.” He suggested that Ron’s trustees Sharron Cooper and Harold Boscutti had reason to kill Ron. Harold alone gained $1.5 million from the estate, Amador said.

Sister vs. sister. And women rarely mutilate victims, Amador argued.

Margaret trotted out the inevitable victim-smearing, claiming Ron trafficked drugs and evaded taxes and might have fallen victim to a business associate he double-crossed.

Unfortunately for Margaret, she herself ended up double-crossed when her lookalike sister served as a witness for the prosecution.

The verdict. Dona Cantrell confirmed that the two of them had planted the listening devices and testified that Margaret was romantically involved with Yehuda Sharon and was crazy about the guy.

Yehuda admitted in court that he had rented a van around the time of Ron Rudin’s disappearance, but said it had nothing to do with the murder and he and Margaret were just friends; he helped her with her taxes.

A jury convicted Margaret of first degree murder. She showed no emotion upon hearing the decision.

Margaret exits prison, where staff members called her a model inmate

High proof. Juror Coreen Kovacs mouthed the words “I’m sorry” to Margaret after the verdict. She later said the other jurors pressured her to vote guilty.

A different juror, however, told American Justice that the evidence against Margaret was so great that no lawyer could have won an acquittal.

Amador later admitted that the reason Margaret looked scared, feeble, and weak during the trial had more to do with staging than any real circumstances. “That was no accident,” Amador told American Justice. “That was a $450-an-hour makeup artist I hired from a modeling agency”

Sprung! On August 31, 2001, Judge Joseph Bonaventure gave Margaret a life sentence.

She served some of her time at Southern Nevada Women’s Correctional Facility, later renamed Florence McClure Women’s Correctional Center.

An old classified ad from Ron Rudin 's real estate business
As this old classified ad shows, Ron Rudin created jobs — or at least gigs — thanks to his success in real estate development

In 2020, the Nevada Department of Corrections agreed to release Margaret early to settle her lawsuit over alleged civil rights violations stemming from the way she was treated in prison.

Enterprises no more. She told the media that she planned to move in with her daughter in Chicago and write books about her time in captivity. Margaret again proclaimed her innocence, blaming the Las Vegas police for her “wrongful” conviction. They “testi-lyed,” she said.

Yehuda Sharon made the news again in 2020 after he accused police of neglecting to investigate a burglary in his residence. The Las Vegas resident remains a fuzzy character who has said he supports himself as a software developer or as a seller of holy oils for church use. Some speculated his main occupation was gigolo, according to true-crime author Suzy Spencer, who appeared on Sex, Lies & Murder.

Margaret shortly before her
release

As far as an epilogue for the Rudins’ businesses, they appear to be no more. A check-cashing business moved into Ron’s old real estate office and Margaret’s nearby antiques shop was replaced by an X-rated video store.

Wait, there’s more. The house on Alpine Place, which was fortified outside but couldn’t protect Ron Rudin inside, was torn down. A commercial building now occupies the space.

You can watch the Mugshots episode on Ron Rudin on YouTube. You can see the Sex, Lies & Murder for free if you sign up for a trial subscription to Reelz.

That’s all for this post. Until next time, cheers. RR

Watch the Forensic Files episode on YouTube

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