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Cold Case Homicides
Practical Investigative Techniques
 CRC SERIES IN
PRACTICAL ASPECTS OF CRIMINAL
AND FORENSIC INVESTIGATIONS

VERNON J. GEBERTH, BBA, MPS, FBINA Series Editor

Practical Homicide Investigation: Tactics, Procedures, and

Forensic Techniques, Fifth Edition
Vernon J. Geberth
Practical Homicide Investigation Checklist and Field Guide,
Second Edition
Vernon J. Geberth
––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––
Cold Case Homicides: Practical Investigative Techniques,
Second Edition
Richard H. Walton
Practical Bomb Scene Investigation, Third Edition
James T. Thurman
Analyzing 911 Homicide Calls: Practical Aspects and Applications
Tracy Harpster and Susan H. Adams
Practical Aspects of Rape Investigation: A Multidisciplinary Approach,
Fifth Edition
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Munchausen by Proxy and Other Factitious Abuse: Practical and
Forensic Investigative Techniques
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Forensic Footwear Evidence
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Practical Analysis and Reconstruction of Shooting Incidents,
Second Edition
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Gunshot Wounds: Practical Aspects of Firearms, Ballistics,
and Forensic Techniques, Third Edition
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Informants, Cooperating Witnesses, and Undercover Investigations:
A Practical Guide to Law, Policy, and Procedure, Second Edition
Dennis G. Fitzgerald
Practical Military Ordnance Identification
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Practical Cold Case Homicide Investigations Procedural Manual
Richard H. Walton
Autoerotic Deaths: Practical Forensic and Investigative Perspectives
Anny Sauvageau and Vernon J. Geberth
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Practical Crime Scene Investigations for Hot Zones
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Sex-Related Homicide and Death Investigation: Practical and Clinical
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Handbook of Forensic Toxicology for Medical Examiners
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Practical Crime Scene Analysis and Reconstruction
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Serial Violence: Analysis of Modus Operandi and Signature
Characteristics of Killers
Robert D. Keppel and William J. Birnes
Bloodstain Pattern Analysis: With an Introduction to Crime Scene
Reconstruction, Third Edition
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Tire Tread and Tire Track Evidence: Recovery and Forensic Examination
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Officer-Involved Shootings and Use of Force: Practical Investigative
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Cold Case Homicides: Practical Investigative Techniques
Richard H. Walton
Principles of Bloodstain Pattern Analysis: Theory and Practice
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Global Drug Enforcement: Practical Investigative Techniques
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Practical Investigation of Sex Crimes: A Strategic and Operational
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Principles of Kinesic Interview and Interrogation, Second Edition
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Practical Criminal Investigations in Correctional Facilities
William R. Bell
Practical Aspects of Interview and Interrogation, Second Edition
David E. Zulawski and Douglas E. Wicklander
Forensic Pathology, Second Edition
Dominick J. DiMaio and Vincent J. M. DiMaio
The Practical Methodology of Forensic Photography, Second Edition
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Quantitative-Qualitative Friction Ridge Analysis: An Introduction to
Basic and Advanced Ridgeology
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Footwear Impression Evidence: Detection, Recovery, and Examination,
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The Sexual Exploitation of Children: A Practical Guide to Assessment,
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Practical Aspects of Munchausen by Proxy and Munchausen Syndrome
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Cold Case Homicides
Practical Investigative Techniques

R. H. Walton
CRC Press
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Library of Congress Cataloging‑in‑Publication Data

Names: Walton, R. H., editor. | Walton, R. H. Cold case homicides.

Title: Cold case homicides : practical investigative techniques / edited by R. H. Walton.
Description: Second Edition. | Boca Raton : CRC Press, 2017. | Revised edition of Cold case homicides, 2006. |
Includes bibliographical references and index.
Identifiers: LCCN 2016041250| ISBN 9781482237900 (hardback : alk. paper) | ISBN 9781315228259 (ebook)
Subjects: LCSH: Criminal investigation. | Homicide investigation. | Forensic sciences.
Classification: LCC HV8073 .W345 2017 | DDC 363.25/952--dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2016041250

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 Dedicated to

In memoriam
Newsome James “Jim” Gibson
S/Sgt. USMC Pacific Theater
My chief…my mentor…my friend.
http://taylorandfrancis.com
Contents

Preface xiii
Acknowledgments xvii
Introduction xxiii

Part I
INVESTIGATION

1 The Cold Case Problem 3

R. H. WALTON

2 Case File Review 27

R. H. WALTON

3 Reading the Book: Learning the Case 69

R. H. WALTON

4 Investigation 103
R. H. WALTON

5 Long-Term Missing-Persons and No-Body Cold Case Investigations 139

TAD DIBIASE AND R. H. WALTON

6 The Prosecution of Cold Case Murders 151

ANNE MARIE SCHUBERT

7 Databases: ViCAP, HITS, and TracKRS 165

R. H. WALTON

8 FBI Criminal Justice Information Services and the National Crime

Information Center 187
R. H. WALTON

9 Interviewing Senior Citizens 205

R. H. WALTON

ix
x Contents

10 Death Certificate, Obituary, and Coroner’s Inquest 229

R. H. WALTON

11 Cold Case Investigation Units 247

R. H. WALTON

12 The Media in Cold Case Investigation 267

R. H. WALTON

Part II
TECHNOLOGY

13 Friction Skin Impressions 295

EDWARDO PALMA

14 Automated Fingerprint Identification Systems 317

PETER D. KOMARINSKI

15 From Serology to DNA in Cold Case Investigations 327

MICHAEL J. GRUBB

16 Trace Evidence in Cold Case Investigations 343

JAY W. HENRY

17 The National Missing and Unidentified Persons System (NamUs) 357

R. H. WALTON AND SILVIA PETTEM

18 Combined DNA Index System (CODIS) 365

CONNIE MILTON

19 National Integrated Ballistic Information Network (NIBIN) 371

KATHARINE DYER AND R. H. WALTON
Contents xi

20 Forensic Anthropology in Cold Cases 381

MADELEINE HINKES

21 Forensic Dentistry in Cold Cases 401

NORMAN D. SPERBER AND ANTHONY R. CARDOZA

Part III
INVESTIGATIVE TOOLS

22 Forensic Exhumation 421

R. H. WALTON

23 Criminal Investigative Analysis in Cold Case Investigations 453

SHARON PAGALING HAGAN

24 Warming Up with Wiretaps 471

ROBERT P. HICKEY

25 Bloodstain Pattern Analysis in Homicide Cold Case Investigations 477

TOM BEVEL

26 Blood Enhancement 491

ROD ENGLERT

27 Forensic Document Examination 503

MARIE DURINA

28 Forensic Art in Cold Cases 519

KAREN T. TAYLOR

29 Cold Case Polygraph 553

PAUL REDDEN

30 Geographic Profiling in Cold Case Investigations 559

D. KIM ROSSMO
xii Contents

Part IV
RESOURCES AND CONCLUSION

31 “Who You Know”: Resources in Cold Case Homicide Investigation 585

R. H. WALTON

Concluding Thoughts 601

Index 603
Preface

The criminal justice system, indeed, the world, has changed dramatically since the first edition of Cold
Case Homicides became the “seminal text” (Brief Amicus Curiae for Former and Current Law Enforcement
Officials in Support of Respondent Greg McQuiggin v. Floyd Perkins USSC 12-126) on cold case homicide
investigation, precipitating an upsurge in the research and writing on cold case homicide investigations.
Then, as well as now, the book provides practical and convenient information to investigators, detec-
tives, prosecutors, and others responsible for the investigation and resolution of previously investigated
but unsolved cold case homicides. The content is based on my more than three decades of experience in
California law enforcement as a deputy sheriff, district attorney investigator, and instructor in cold case
homicide investigation techniques, years that overlapped extensive networking and research with some of
the finest homicide investigators in the United States.
In presenting this material, I also draw upon a 13-year quest in which I reactivated one of America’s
oldest active homicide investigations, revealing a series of murders and alleged rapes set amidst official cor-
ruption during the heart of the Prohibition era. In this endeavor, in which I obtained perhaps the nation’s
first innocence pardon of its kind, I came to experience the same factors that the later Innocence Project
identified as critical failures leading to convicting the innocent. I just did not know it at the time.

Homicide Investigation: Hot or Cold

Homicide investigation has long been considered to be the zenith for an investigator dedicated to solving
violent crime. Not all who enter police work strive to be a detective or an investigator, and not all possess
the drive, the energy, or the zeal to succeed in this duty slot. Nor do all possess the ability. Chief among
them is the ability to look, to see, and to think independently of others. To think outside the box.
Investigation of the death of another human being is unlike any other responsibility. Whereas a homi-
cide investigator must be able to look at a live crime scene and read it, a cold case investigator may do so
only through photographs or informational documents and perhaps revisiting the locale many years later.
Each must have that ability to see beyond the obvious, i.e., to “feel” it. Likewise, homicide investigation
calls for strategies in approaching the investigation and approaching and interacting with people. Yet these
strategies and approaches must be elastic and allow the investigator necessary freedom of thought and
movement in the quest to seek the truth. This is true whether the homicide is hot or cold. Throughout, the
investigator must balance education, training and experience, flexibility, understanding of human nature,
and common sense with a knowledge of applicable law and techniques.
Investigators faced with a hot homicide confront situations that the unaccustomed cannot comprehend.
These investigators see human tragedy set in violence, in an environment that often encompasses bloody bod-
ies and intense human emotions. In this arena, they must sort out the basic elements of investigation—the
who, what, why, how, when, and where. They ponder questions such as MOM, which translates to motive,
opportunity, and means. In fulfilling their obligations, investigators dedicate themselves and sometimes even
their relationships with their own families.

xiii
xiv Preface

An investigator’s duty, however, is to conduct a professional and intelligent investigation that seeks to
bring a sense of justice to the deceased and to that person’s surviving family through identification of the
perpetrator and accountability through the criminal justice system. If the investigator is unable to do so,
someone else may pick up the case years later. In such cases, our predecessors tried hard and did their best,
but they just didn’t have that one piece of evidence, that one cooperative witness, or that one bit of informa-
tion. As a result, the case went cold.
The mission of today’s cold case investigators is the same. Although the blood has been cleaned up and
the body buried, new investigators relive the crime through photographs, reports, and follow-up inter-
views. What was the past is now once again the present. Like hot homicide investigators, they must detach
themselves clinically and then objectively concentrate on a variety of topics, which may or may not be
answered in available reports. They begin by reading a case built upon the rules and framework of another
time, perhaps one far different than today. Then they must review and investigate the case with today’s
increased understanding of the fallibility of eyewitnesses and awareness and understanding of false con-
fessions, as well as close scrutiny in the legal arena. Modern cold case investigators spend a lot of hours
reviewing and thinking, both on and off duty. In this realm, they must struggle against personalizing
the case and, instead, strive to remain objective and focus solely on the dynamics of the event. The mod-
ern cold case detective must blend experience and street knowledge with knowledge of computer systems,
databases, and rapidly changing advances in forensic sciences. He/she must think forensically and still be
able to exhibit skilled interview and interrogation skills with all segments of society, from hardened cons
to senior citizens.
Additional frustrations for modern investigators include lost files and reports; unaccounted-for evi-
dence; and previously unfollowed, but viable and obvious, leads. In some instances, the attitudes and unof-
ficial policies of law enforcement agencies may appear to downplay the need to reinvestigate these most
heinous of crimes. Cold case investigations demand time and fiscal, personnel, or other resources that may
far surpass a hot homicide investigation. This can confound and annoy those in management. At other
times, sheer incompetence or bureaucracy can stonewall the investigations. Some administrators have even
suggested they see no need to go back and revisit older murder cases.
With most cold cases, the media (that fourth estate of government) is not standing in the chief’s office
demanding to know why these crimes are not being solved. The reality is that public pressure is sometimes
a solvability factor when law enforcement agencies dedicate resources to solving a particular, high-profile
crime. When I defended the proposal for my doctoral dissertation on identifying solvability factors in cold
case homicide investigations, one of my professors asked why law enforcement agencies don’t allocate more
resources to solving cold case homicides. Another professor, a retired chief of police for a major American
city, interjected, advising that he once had a group of women come into his office, asking him to allocate
more resources to combat domestic violence. Because the women were proactive, the chief agreed. Soon
he was running a successful domestic violence program. When asked if a similar group of people had
ever demanded that he allocate more resources to solving his backlog of older unsolved murders, “No,” he
replied. They had not.

Teamwork and Organization

The days of the singular, jack-of-all-trades homicide investigator is over. All homicide investigations reflect
modern, professional investigation methods and techniques. Both entail positive interpersonal relation-
ships between working professionals in the law enforcement, legal, and forensic spectrums. Investigators
must exhibit teamwork that fosters a positive exchange of information and knowledge and disregards per-
sonal ambition or personality differences. After all, cops are human too.
Preface xv

A professional homicide investigator strives to adhere to modern standards, remain objective, and
seek the truth. In cold cases, however, he/she may be confronted with vestiges from the past, along with
practices and attitudes that were more commonplace decades ago. Today’s professional must refrain from
being opinionated, tainted by racial prejudice, or prone to prejudgment. He/she must let the facts guide the
actions and course of the investigation. Patience and flexibility are requisites for professional and personal
success. The cold case homicide investigator must be open to new suggestions, ideas, and concepts that
might be out of sync with his/her counterparts in previous investigations. As the world has changed, so
have we.
Almost daily, current news reports tell us of another solved cold case. What once was uncommon is
now almost common, reflecting a successful integration of these team members and their skills. Each solved
case is a win and a resolution of which those involved may be justifiably proud. But another revelation has
been an increased awareness of the fallibility of the criminal justice system, that in our drive to convict the
guilty, we have convicted the innocent. As a result, various disciplines within the accepted forensic sciences
as well as investigative procedures have been closely scrutinized. When this occurs, not only do innocent
persons and their families suffer; the real perpetrators go undetected and are free to continue.
Criminal homicide generally has no statute of limitations. In the past, however, law enforcement agen-
cies routinely investigated homicides to the degree thought possible, and when no further action was avail-
able, they filed and shelved the cases. Then, as new homicides drained department resources, many of
the older homicide cases were left behind, but not forgotten by the victim’s family and the perpetrators.
Evidence was deliberately destroyed, and investigators moved on or passed away. During the past 30 years,
we have seen the reactivation of some of the cases, however, and their solutions are presented in this book
as examples of the issues and the means and methods of investigation by which such cases are resolved.
Experience is a great teacher, and in these pages, we seek to learn from that of others.
Focus also is directed toward two major elements, which, when combined, offer the opportunity to
solve cold case homicides. These are changes in technology and changes in relationships as enveloped in
the passage of time. While the advent of DNA and other advanced forensic techniques has breathed new life
into many of these old cases, modern forensics will never replace the homicide detective. A test tube can-
not testify. Shoe leather, knowledge of the human character, and basic criminal investigation will continue
to solve cases. These traditional methods (combined with advances in forensics) serve to ultimately bring
justice to those who thought they got away with murder.
It is the purpose of this book to aid and assist the good guys in their pursuit of the bad guys.

Contents and Updates

In this updated edition of Cold Case Homicides, Part I addresses the background of the cold case homicide
problem in America, along with an overview of previous forensics and an explanation of some of the older
technology that cold case investigators may encounter when reviewing decades-old files. In addition, this
segment defines and identifies cold case homicides and explores the experiences of cold case detectives in
reopening and understanding their case files. Included, too, are forensic and legal considerations.
This edition features updated systems that may further assist in the identification of other cases
through discussions of the Violent Criminal Apprehension Program (ViCAP), Homicide Investigation and
Tracking System (HITS), and Taskforce Aimed at Catching Killers, Rapists and Sexual Offenders (TracKRS).
Presented, as well, are the advances of NCIC and the National Criminal Justice Information Service, along
with specialized techniques and resources involving areas not regularly encountered in homicide investiga-
tions. Since the first edition, the FBI has significantly redefined and upgraded investigative resources, and
Next Generation Identification (NGI) is likewise offered here. Also revisited are techniques for interviewing
xvi Preface

senior citizens and/or others (often decades later), a review of death certificates and coroners’ inquests, and
the use of specialized cold case squads. The increased role of social media as well as the more traditional
forms of media in the investigation of cold case homicides is similarly explored.
This updated edition also includes material on the unresolved disappearances of long-term missing
persons, what the National Institute of Justice calls “the nation’s silent mass disaster.” Many of these cases
are, without a doubt, homicides but were never investigated as such. In addition, expanded coverage is given
to the investigation and prosecution of no-body murders. As the criminal landscape changes, so must we.
Part II presents technological changes that have contributed greatly to law enforcement’s abilities to
solve cold case homicides. What were once lumped under a general label of “fingerprints” are now “friction
ridge impressions,” a greatly expanded field and encompassing the role of automated fingerprint identifica-
tions systems. Building on this, the segment presents the evolution from the groupings of serology to the
specificity of DNA and the future this science holds in the identification of criminal suspects. This portion
also explores databases including the Combined DNA Index System (CODIS), National Integrated Ballistic
Information Network (NIBIN), NGI, and the newest, the National Missing and Unidentified Persons
System (NamUs), relating how they help to link people, cases, and crimes. Also provided is an expanded
discussion on trace evidence in cold cases.
Part III presents additional tools and techniques that may be utilized in the investigation of cold case
homicides. The contributing authors for this, and the other sections, are outstanding practitioners in their
respective fields, allowing this text to be a grateful acknowledgment and recognition of their expertise,
dedication, and professional excellence. There is no one-size-fits-all method of homicide investigation, nor
is there a similar process for cold case investigations. Each brings with it a different set of circumstances
and, in cold case investigations, a surviving level of documentation, original people, and evidence. The tools
these authors present can contribute enormously to making an unsolved, cold case homicide a solved cold
case homicide or resolved long-term missing-persons case.
Experienced investigators know that, not uncommonly, it is not what you know but whom you know.
Part IV presents expanded resources that may be available to law enforcement in the course of cold case
investigations. While many of these may be known to those who investigate homicides, their role in cold
case investigations may be more significant. These resources and organizations are representative of the
willingness of others who contribute to help their fellow citizens and to solve unsolved crimes.

This preface cannot conclude, however, without a tribute to Vernon Geberth, and my acknowledg-
ment and profound gratitude to this one individual who has contributed so much to the betterment of law
enforcement, and especially to professional homicide investigation. Vernon had the wisdom, foresight, and
the vision for this original textbook. Throughout more than three decades in law enforcement, and after
his retirement from the New York City Police Department as a lieutenant commander, Vernon Geberth
has continued to raise the bar for those who seek to conduct criminal investigations, especially in sexual
assaults and homicides. In addition to numerous professional recognitions, accolades, and achievements,
Vernon Geberth has published extensively on topics relating to practical criminal investigation and forensic
techniques and applied psychology. He is a nationally, and internationally, renowned author, lecturer, edu-
cator, consultant, and expert witness on the subject of death investigation. I am proud to call him a friend.
Acknowledgments

I wish to express my deepest appreciation to the many persons and agencies that have contributed to this
second edition of Cold Case Homicides: Practical Investigative Techniques. I wish to acknowledge each indi-
vidual for his/her professional expertise, suggestions, comments, photos, and case histories, which have
encouraged and aided me in the completion of this first-of-its-kind book. The pages that follow are a testa-
ment to the quality of law enforcement, forensics, and their supporting disciplines in the United States, so
exemplified by the following individuals. I have listed them alphabetically and apologize earnestly to any
whom I have unintentionally omitted.
James Adcock, U.S. Army CID (retired), coroner and professor, Memphis, Tennessee. Detective Steve
Ainsworth, Boulder County Sheriff’s Office, Boulder, Colorado. Officer Robert Anderson (retired), El
Cajon Police Department, El Cajon, California. Michael Arena, Criminal Intelligence Bureau, California
Attorney General’s Office, Division of Law Enforcement, Sacramento, California.
District Attorney Investigator Steve Baker, San Diego County District Attorney’s Office, San Diego,
California. Justin Bechaver, Utah Department of Public Safety. Frank Bender (deceased), forensic sculp-
tor, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Capt. Tom Bevel (retired), Oklahoma City Police Department, Norman,
Oklahoma. Detective Gerry Biehn, Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department Unsolved Unit, Commerce,
California. Deborah Bloch, PhD, University of San Francisco, San Francisco, California. Bennett Blum,
MD, Tucson, Arizona. Fred Bornhofen, chairman, Vidocq Society, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Sgt. Ana
Peñaloza-Brackpool, Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department Homicide Bureau, Commerce, California.
Tim Bradshaw, Deputy District Attorney, King County District Attorney’s Office, Seattle, Washington.
Detective Dave Brewer, Carbon County Sheriff’s Office, Price, Utah. Chief Investigator Barry Brown
(retired), Humboldt County District Attorney’s Office, California. Brian Burritt, San Diego Police
Department Crime Lab, San Diego, California.
Maj. George C. Cadavid (retired), Miami Police Department, Miami, Florida. Tom Callaghan, chief,
CODIS Unit, Federal Bureau of Investigation, Quantico, Virginia. Detective Victor Caloca, San Diego
County Sheriff’s Department, San Diego, California. Anthony R. Cardoza, DDS, forensic dentist, San
Diego, California. William Casper, laboratory director, California Department of Justice, Division of Law
Enforcement, Bureau of Forensic Services, Eureka, California. (Late) Sgt. Alfredo Castro, Unsolved Unit,
Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department, Commerce, California. Sara Chaikin, Victim-Assistance Unit,
Cold Case Program, Denver Police Department, Denver, Colorado.
(Late) Judge George Clark, San Diego County Superior Court, San Diego, California. Lt. Craig
Cleary (retired), El Segundo Police Department, El Segundo, California. Bonnie Collins, analyst,
California Department of Justice, Sacramento, California. Detective Bob Conrad (retired), Chula Vista
Police Department, Chula Vista, California. District Attorney Steve Cooley, Los Angeles County District
Attorney’s Office, Los Angeles, California. Gary Cordner, PhD, Eastern Kentucky University, Richmond,
Kentucky. Special Agent Brad Cordts, Kansas Bureau of Investigation, Topeka, Kansas. Investigator Carl
Craig, Richland County Sheriff’s Department, Columbia, South Carolina. Al Crnich, Eureka, California.
Heather Davies, PhD (formerly of Police Executive Research Forum, Washington, District of Columbia),
Alexandria, Virginia. John Dehaan, chief (retired), Bureau of Forensic Services, California Department of
Justice, Vallejo, California. Duayne J. Dillon, DCrim, chief criminalist (retired), Alameda County Crime

xvii
xviii Acknowledgments

Laboratory, Martinez, California. Joseph Di Zinno, DDS, deputy assistant director (retired), FBI Laboratory,
Quantico, Virginia. Detective Bob Donaldson, San Diego Police Department, San Diego, California. Paul
Dougherty, chief criminalist (retired), San Mateo County Sheriff’s Department laboratory, Ojai, California.
Capt. Jorge Duran, San Diego Police Department, San Diego, California. Marie Durina, senior forensic
document examiner, San Diego County Sheriff’s Department Regional Crime Laboratory, San Diego,
California. Jeff Dusek, division chief (retired), deputy district attorney, Cold Case Homicide Unit, San
Diego County District Attorney’s Office, San Diego, California. Katharine Dyer, NIBIN Specialist, San
Diego County Sheriff’s Department Regional Crime Laboratory.
(Late) Detective Paul Edholm, Beverly Hills Police Department, La Palma, California. Louis N,
Eliopulos, Naval Criminal Investigative Service, Virginia. Rod Englert, Chief Deputy and Commander
Operations Division (retired), Multnomah County Sheriff’s Department, Portland, Oregon. Julio Estrada,
senior medical examiner investigator, San Diego County Medical Examiner’s Office, San Diego, California.
Deputy Sheriff Dale Falicon, Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department, Los Angeles, California. Detective
Sgt. James Ferguson, Cold Case Homicide Unit, El Cajon Police Department, El Cajon, California. Special
Agent Carlos Field, Orange County District Attorney’s Office, Santa Ana, California. John Firman,
International Association of Chiefs of Police, Washington, District of Columbia. Stephen Fischer, Unit
Chief, Multimedia Group, Criminal Justice Information Services, Federal Bureau of Investigation,
Clarksburg, West Virginia. William Fleisher, commissioner, Vidocq Society, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.
Detective Vivian Flores, Los Angeles Police Department, Los Angeles, California. Gary Fong, San Francisco
Chronicle, San Francisco, California. Kenneth Foote, PhD, chair, Department of Geography, University of
Colorado, Boulder, Colorado. Melitta Franceschini, South Tyrol Museum of Archaeology.
Norman Gahn, assistant district attorney, Milwaukee District Attorney’s Office, Milwaukee,
Wisconsin. James Gannon, deputy chief of investigations, Morris County Prosecutor’s Office, Morristown,
New Jersey. Professor Elizabeth Gardner, Department of Justice Sciences, University of Alabama,
Birmingham. Detective Ron Garvick, Sacramento County Sheriff’s Department, Sacramento, California.
Zach Gaskin, CEO, United Forensics, Inc., Rockwood, Pennsylvania. Capt. Duino Giordano (retired), Los
Gatos Police Department, Los Gatos, California. David Godfordson, news producer, KFMB television,
San Diego, California. Scott J. Goetz, Department of Geography, University of Maryland. Officer Anna
Gonzales, Miami Police Department, Miami, Florida. Detective Frank Gonzales (retired), Unsolved Unit,
Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department, Commerce, California. David Griffith, commander (retired),
Texas Department of Public Safety, Austin, Texas. Richard Grzybowski, ATF laboratory, Walnut Creek,
California. Michael Grubb, crime laboratory director, San Diego County Sheriff’s Office Regional Crime
Laboratory, San Diego, California.
Sharon Pagaling Hagan, supervising special agent (retired), California Department of Justice, Bureau of
Investigations, Rancho Cordova, California. Thomas Hargrove, Scripps Howard Newspaper. Rockne “Rock”
Harmon, senior deputy district attorney (retired), Alameda County District Attorney’s Office, Oakland,
California. Capt. Murl Harpham (retired), Eureka Police Department, Eureka, California. Detective
Steve Harshberger, Michigan State Police, Alpena, Michigan. Lt. Joseph Hartshorne, Homicide Bureau,
Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department, Commerce, California. Michelle Hassler, Biology Section, San
Diego County Sheriff’s Regional Crime Laboratory, San Diego, California. Tori Heflin, Museum of Man,
San Diego, California. Detective Wally Hendricks, Carbon County Sheriff’s Office, Price, Utah. Jay Henry,
laboratory director, Utah Department of Public Safety.
Capt. John Hennessey, San Francisco Police Department, San Francisco, California. Robert Hickey,
deputy district attorney, Gang Prosecutions Unit, San Diego County District Attorney’s Office, San Diego,
California. Madeleine Hinkes, PhD, D-ABFA, forensic anthropologist, San Diego, California. Detective Steve
Hodel (retired), Los Angeles Police Department, Los Angeles, California. Bryan Holden, Utah Department
of Public Safety. Sgt. William Holmes, Robbery Division, San Diego Police Department, San Diego,
Acknowledgments xix

California. Professor Frank Horvath, PhD, School of Criminal Justice (retired), Michigan State University,
East Lansing, Michigan. Detective Neil Hubbard, Eureka Police Department, Eureka, California. Detective
Technician Lisa Hudson, Wauwatosa Police Department, Wauwatosa, Wisconsin. Sgt. Mike Huff, homicide
unit supervisor, Tulsa Police Department, Tulsa, Oklahoma. Harold Hunt, Burnt Ranch, California. Mary
Ann Hunt, homicide analyst, Robbery–Homicide Division, Los Angeles Police Department, Los Angeles,
California. Robert Hutton, chief of police (retired), Coronado Police Department, Coronado, California.
Jack Irvine, MD, Eureka, California. Sgt. John Jackson, Cold Case Homicide Unit, Kansas City Police
Department, Kansas City, Missouri. Detective Rick Jackson, Cold Case Homicide Unit, Robbery–Homicide
Division, Los Angeles Police Department, Los Angeles, California. (Late) Earl James, JD, PhD, Michigan State
Police, Lansing, Michigan. Timothy Keel (detective lieutenant, Baltimore Homicide, retired), major case
specialist, FBI Behavioral Analysis Unit, Quantico, Virginia. Capt. David Kelly, commander, Investigative
Services Bureau, New Hampshire State Police, Concord, New Hampshire. Robert Keppell, PhD, chief
investigator (retired), Washington State Attorney General’s Office, Seattle, Washington. Principal criminal
attorney Eric Kindall, Sacramento County District Attorney’s Office, Sacramento, California. Venetia King,
Criminal Information and Transition Unit, Federal Bureau of Investigation, Clarksburg, West Virginia.
Supervising Special Agent Lisa Kincaid, ATF. Peter Komarinski, manager (retired), Automated Fingerprint
Identification Systems, New York State Division of Criminal Justice Services, Rotterdam, New York.
Eugene J. LaChimia, criminalist, Forensic Science Section, San Diego Police Department Crime Lab,
San Diego, California. Detective Dave Lambkin (retired), Cold Case Homicide Unit, Robbery–Homicide
Division, Los Angeles Police Department, Los Angeles, California. Daniel G. Lamborn, deputy district
attorney (retired), Cold Case Homicide Unit, San Diego County District Attorney’s Office, San Diego,
California. Gerry Laporte, U.S. Secret Service Laboratory, Washington, District of Columbia. Lt. Tony Leal
(retired), Texas Rangers, San Antonio, Texas. Dr. Henry Lee, chief emeritus, Connecticut State Crime
Lab, Meridian, Connecticut. Paul Levikow, public affairs officer, San Diego County District Attorney’s
Office, San Diego, California. Darren Levine, senior deputy district attorney, Los Angeles County District
Attorney’s Office, Los Angeles, California. John Lewin, deputy district attorney, Los Angeles District
Attorney’s Office, Los Angeles, California. Detective Dave Lewis (retired), Homicide Bureau, Los Angeles
County Sheriff’s Department, Commerce, California. Steve Loftin, forensic imaging specialist, National
Center for Missing and Exploited Children, Alexandria, Virginia. Sgt. Richard Longshore, Unsolved Unit,
Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department, Commerce, California. Sheriff Leon Lott, Richland County
Sheriff’s Department, Columbia, South Carolina. Detective Kevin Lowe (retired), Homicide Bureau, Los
Angeles County Sheriff’s Department, Commerce, California. Special Agent Ray Lundin, Kansas Bureau
of Investigation, Topeka, Kansas.
Detective Tim Marcia, Cold Case Homicide Unit, Robbery–Homicide Division, Los Angeles Police
Department, Los Angeles, California. Dan Martell, PhD, clinical assistant professor of psychiatry and behav-
ioral sciences, Neuropsychiatric Institute, UCLA School of Medicine, Newport Beach, California. Ranger
John Martin (retired), Texas Rangers, San Antonio, Texas. Special Agent Mike Matassa, ATF, Los Angeles,
California. Todd Matthews, director, case management and communications, UNT Center for Human
Identification, Fort Worth, Texas. Jamie Sigler McDevitt, Federal Bureau of Investigation, Clarksburg,
West Virginia. Detective Dan McElderry, Homicide Bureau, Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department,
Commerce, California. Sgt. Mitch McKay, Coronado Police Department, Coronado, California. Terry
Melton, PhD, president and CEO (retired), Mitotyping Technologies LLC, State College, Pennsylvania.
Jennifer McNair, Utah Department of Public Safety. Glen Miller, supervisor, Forensic Imaging Unit,
National Center for Missing and Exploited Children, Alexandria, Virginia. Connie Milton, supervising
criminalist, San Diego County Sheriff’s Department Regional Crime Laboratory, San Diego, California.
Matthew Mitchell, PhD, University of San Francisco, San Francisco, California. Patricia Mitchell, PhD,
University of San Francisco, San Francisco, California.
xx Acknowledgments

Sgt. Paul Mondry, Unsolved Unit, Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department, Commerce, California.
Sgt. Tim Morgan, Los Gatos Police Department, Los Gatos, California. Mitch Morrissey, district attorney,
Denver, Colorado. Jeff Muckenthaler, crime analyst, Kansas Bureau of Investigation, Topeka, Kansas. Ander
Murane, Rocky Mountain News, Denver, Colorado. Capt. Tim Murray (retired), Boston Police Department,
Boston, Massachusetts.
Gerald Nance, case manager (retired), Special Case Unit, National Center for Missing and Exploited
Children, Alexandria, Virginia. Linda Nance, Criminal Justice Statistics Center, California Department
of Justice, Sacramento, California. Sgt. John Neff, Cold Case Homicide Unit, Austin Police Department,
Austin, Texas. David O. Norris, PhD, Forensic Botany LLC, Boulder, Colorado. Patrick O’Donnell, supervi-
sor, DNA Unit, Crime Lab, San Diego Police Department, San Diego, California. Marcutris Otani, analyst,
California Department of Justice, Sacramento, California.
Edwardo Palma, certified latent print examiner (retired), Latent Print Unit, San Diego Police
Department, San Diego, California. Paul Pane, information services manager, California Department of
Justice, Sacramento, California. Detective Sgt. Todd Park, Salt Lake Unified Police Department, Salt Lake
City, Utah. Detective David Parris (retired), Eureka Police Department, Eureka, California. William Paul,
assistant civil engineer, City of San Diego, California. Capt. Raymond Peavy (retired), Homicide Bureau, Los
Angeles County Sheriff’s Department, Commerce, California. Sgt. Brian Pendleton, Cold Case Homicide
Unit, San Diego Police Department, San Diego, California. Silvia Pettem, cold case researcher and author,
Ward, Colorado. Sheriff Gary Philp (retired), Humboldt County Sheriff’s Department, Eureka, California.
Sgt. Darrell Price, Charlotte-Mecklenburg Police Department Cold Case Unit, Charlotte, North Carolina.
Lt. Ray Rawlins, San Diego County Sheriff’s Department, San Diego, California. Tommy Ray, special agent
(retired), Florida Department of Law Enforcement. Paul Redden, polygraph examiner (retired), San Diego
Police Department, San Diego, California. Tony Ribera, PhD, chief of police (retired), San Francisco Police
Department, San Francisco, California; Institute for International Justice, University of San Francisco, San
Francisco, California. Detective Edward Reynolds (retired), Phoenix Police Department, Phoenix, Arizona.
Jeff Rose, assistant chief deputy district attorney, Sacramento County District Attorney’s Office, Sacramento,
California. Detective Richard Rouleau (retired), Cold Case Unit, El Cajon Police Department, El Cajon,
California. D. Kim Rossmo, PhD, university professor and director, Center for Geospatial Intelligence and
Investigation, School of Criminal Justice, Texas State University, San Marcos, Texas.
Detective Arnold Sauro (retired), Los Angeles Police Department, Los Angeles, California. William M.
Schneck, Microvision Northwest-Forensic Consulting, Inc. Anne Marie Schubert, district attorney,
Sacramento County District Attorney’s Office, Sacramento, California. Special agent Katie Schuetz,
Kansas Bureau of Investigation, Topeka, Kansas. Sgt. Christopher Serritella, San Diego County Sheriff’s
Department, San Diego, California. Bonnie Shaffer, CJIS, Federal Bureau of Investigation, Clarksburg,
West Virginia. Investigator Ron Shave (retired), Orange County District Attorney’s Office, Santa Ana,
California. Pilar Shortsleeve, Utah Department of Public Safety. Scott Snow, program director, Victim-
Assistance Unit, Cold Case Program, Denver Police Department, Denver, Colorado. Susan Snyder, Bancroft
Library, Berkeley, California. Norman “Skip” Sperber, DDS, forensic odontologist, forensic dental consul-
tant, La Jolla, California. James Stam, supervising criminalist (retired), Crime Laboratory, San Diego Police
Department, San Diego, California. Chief Deputy Cletis Steele, Carbon County Sheriff’s Office, Price, Utah.
David Steitz, public information officer, National Aeronautics and Space Administration.
Ann Stewart, FBI Laboratory, Press Section, Washington, District of Columbia. John Stewart, PhD,
DNA Laboratory, Unit II, Federal Bureau of Investigation, Washington, District of Columbia. Clay Strange,
attorney at law, Austin, Texas. Karen T. Taylor, forensic artist, Austin, Texas. District Attorney Investigator
Ron Thill (retired), San Diego Police Department H.E.A.T. Cold Case Homicide Unit/San Diego County
District Attorney’s Office, San Diego, California. Assistant Director Larry Thomas, Kansas Bureau of
Investigation, Topeka, Kansas. Investigator Paul Tippin (retired), Orange County District Attorney’s Office,
Acknowledgments xxi

Santa Ana, California. Katie Tobin, student intern, San Diego County Medical Examiner’s Office, San
Diego, California. Sgt. Frank Tona, Charles County Sheriff’s Department, La Plata, Maryland. Detective
James Trainum (retired), Metropolitan Police Department, Washington, District of Columbia. Maj. Larry
C. Turner, commander, Criminal Investigative Division, Indiana State Police, Indianapolis, Indiana. Calvin
Vine, supervising medical examiner investigator, San Diego County Medical Examiner’s Office, San Diego,
California.
Detective Tom Wagner, San Diego Police Department, San Diego, California. Special Agent Stanley
Walker (retired), FBI, Eureka, California. William Walser, evidence technician (retired), Eureka Police
Department, Eureka, California. Richard Walter, prison psychologist (retired), Montrose, Pennsylvania.
Shelly Webster, Biology Section, San Diego County Sheriff’s Regional Crime Laboratory, San Diego,
California. Director Larry Welch (retired), Kansas Bureau of Investigation, Topeka, Kansas. Capt. Phil
West (retired), Boulder County Sheriff’s Department, Boulder, Colorado. Jane Whitmore (retired), ViCAP/
FBI Academy, Quantico, Virginia. Eric Whitzig, major case specialist (ViCAP), FBI Academy, Quantico,
Virginia. Glen W. Wildey Jr., major case specialist (ViCAP), FBI, Quantico, Virginia. Dan Williams,
mortuary manager, Greenwood Memorial Park and Mortuary, San Diego, California. Sheriff Jeff Wood,
Carbon County Sheriff’s Office, Price, Utah. Detective Jon Woodell, El Cajon Police Department, El Cajon,
California. Capt. Paul Ybarrondo (retired), San Diego Police Department, San Diego, California.
In addition, I wish to extend my deepest appreciation to the editors and staff at CRC Press for their
untiring efforts in the design and production of this textbook. I wish to especially thank Misha Kydd, edito-
rial assistant; Jay Margolis, project manager; my former senior editor, Becky McEldowney-Masterson; and
my editor, Mark Listewnik, for their guidance, kindness, and support throughout the writing, editing, and
publishing process; as well as Adel Rosario of MTC.
I especially wish to extend my deepest gratitude to Vernon Geberth, author of Practical Homicide
Investigation: Tactics, Procedures, and Forensic Techniques, for his unfailing confidence, wisdom, and sup-
port. I hope he is as proud of this book as I am.
http://taylorandfrancis.com
Introduction

My introduction to cold case homicide investigation began one afternoon in the early 1980s in a rural vil-
lage on the north coast of California, the result of a chance conversation on a street corner while on patrol.
A woman had recently died and, before passing, recanted her accusations of rape against a young Native
American six decades before. If true, it meant a man had gone to prison for crimes he did not commit and
justice had not been served. Everyone knew Jack Ryan was railroaded, I was told. If this was true, I won-
dered, did he deserve to have his name cleared?
There were no records remaining, and the current homicide rate and administrative philosophy pre-
cluded any official interest in revisiting such an old crime. Certain questions immediately needed answers.
Where to go? How to start?
I knew nothing of this local legend, but only blocks from that street corner lived an elderly, retired
newspaperman. With just a few months to live, Andy Genzoli listened to my information, retired to his
study, and came back with a handful of papers. They were a start. “The law was crooked, and so was the
district attorney,” he told me as he handed me the bundle. The carbon paper documents were the district
attorney’s written account of his solution to a series murders and rapes that had occurred in the heart of
Prohibition, crimes reported nationwide in the sensational journalism of the day.
As I was to learn, these events ultimately led to the imprisonment of a young Native American whose
only crime was being in the wrong place at the wrong time. For this, Jack Ryan spent more than 40 years
in prison and on parole for crimes later proven he did not commit. For him, justice was slow. He was com-
muted to time served in 1969 by Governor Ronald Reagan and granted perhaps America’s first innocence
pardon of its kind by Governor Pete Wilson in 1996. Posthumously. In between lay a period in which the
real killers lived out their lives in freedom. Yet always looking over their shoulders.
My interest was piqued. The next 13 years would be spent reading old newspaper accounts, tracking
down surviving participants or their descendants, and reconstructing a case that was never meant to be
reopened. Removed and destroyed by the chief prosecutor when he himself later went to federal prison. In
all, more than 400 interviews, well over half with people 65 years young or more.
For the following two years, I found myself in the newspaper morgue on my off-duty time, reading
each issue of the area’s two daily newspapers. These were the only surviving records that detailed what hap-
pened, the trial proceedings, and subsequent events. I copied the yellowed, dusty pages and noted names of
individuals. Who they were and what they did. In this manner, I unknowingly began to build what would
ultimately become, perhaps, America’s oldest active homicide case. As the months became years, I filled file
folders and ultimately learned to operate a revolutionary new machine—the personal computer.
The series of events that transcended the decades began with the murders of a beautiful 17-year-old
girl, Carmen Wagner, and her 21-year-old male companion, Henry Sweet. The couple was shot to death
while deer hunting in the remote mountains in October 1925. Jack Ryan and his half-brother, Walter David,
“half-breed” Indians as they were reported in the press of the day, were arrested on “suspicion.” David was
later released, but Ryan was held to answer for shooting the girl. The preliminary hearing took place one
month after his arrest, and trial began three months later. Events moved quickly in the 1920s.
I learned from the newspaper accounts that Ryan was acquitted in less than 24 hours after a lengthy
trial by a jury of white men, a trial marked by perjury and planted evidence. This case was my introduction

xxiii
xxiv Introduction

to Edward Oscar Heinrich, perhaps America’s first academically trained forensic scientist. He collected
and examined the evidence. Decades after his death, Heinrich’s records allowed an in-depth review of this
aspect of these events. In these pages, I saw the infancy of forensics as we know it today. The idea of blood
spatter analysis and of the ability to allegedly match a fired shell casing or bullet to a specific firearm.
After the trial, Ryan returned to being a cowboy. But the politics of Prohibition had doomed him. A
new DA was elected and immediately set out to solve the crimes, all the while running the biggest bootleg-
ging ring in the county from inside the district attorney’s office. Walter David was murdered shortly there-
after in a torture killing, most likely committed by bad cops. Ultimately, Ryan was arrested and charged
with several rapes of young girls. To stay alive, he pled guilty to the rapes. Held overnight in the county jail,
Ryan was interrogated under conditions and circumstances not uncommon for the period. Shortly after
daybreak on September 14, 1928, Jack Ryan confessed to the murders. Within hours, he was given a pre-
liminary hearing and, later that same afternoon—without an attorney—pled guilty to the murder of Sweet
and was immediately sentenced to life in prison. By 7 p.m., he was en route to San Quentin State Prison,
where he would spend the next 26 years before parole in 1953.
Ultimately, my efforts would officially reactivate this homicide case. The rape victim’s role in a series of
Prohibition-era murders, rapes, and political corruption became apparent, as indeed, the guilty suspects
escaped, while an innocent Indian served time. As events unfolded, I found myself going to lengths not
encountered when conducting a current homicide investigation, yet, which complement modern homicide
investigation techniques.
Homicide cases can rise or fall on tiny bits of information or evidence. Without realizing it, I found
myself combining current homicide investigation techniques with the fields of history, anthropology, and
perhaps archaeology. I was digging up the past, events that more than a few wished left undisturbed. My
landscape was not only the remote mountain crime scenes but also state and federal archives. City direc-
tories and assessors’ maps, civil and probate files, and other arenas not normally encountered in a homi-
cide investigation were exhumed to reveal the hidden skeletons left behind by parties identified in my
investigation.
And, of course, years of daily newspaper review as each article was photocopied, its contents computer-
ized for informational purposes, time line content, and value. I found myself searching for photos in old
family photo albums, diaries and notes, crime scene maps, and evidence files. Coloring outside the box to
find remnants of aged official records filed far from the scene of the crime. Original investigator notebooks
were uncovered in the attics of time. In the course of this, I began to meet people who wanted to tell me
what they had known but never told anyone else. I found myself interviewing people with direct, firsthand
knowledge. Original witnesses from a series of events 60 years in the past. Slowly, the truth, and the cover-
up, began to emerge.
From the White House to Wall Street, and from the governor’s office in Sacramento to university
archives and an old mining town in Idaho, I found myself compiling information from a myriad of sources
that seem distant from those events that occur when a homicide has just been reported. Like a current
homicide, however, I was looking for evidence. I was looking for witnesses, physical evidence, and persons
with direct, firsthand knowledge. But there were no patrol cars with flashing lights, no crime scene tape,
and no crime scene specialists responding to recover trace evidence.
I did not have the benefit of face-to-face interviews with major original participants in which I could gauge
reactions to my questions or watch the body language. I did not have the benefit of experienced investigators
leading me through the steps involved in my undertaking. There was no mentoring that told me I was on the
right track or off on a wild goose chase. This was my first homicide investigation. Indeed, some whispered
about my sanity, and certainly, the department had no interest in supporting my investigation. The more
questions I asked, however, the more wrong everything seemed to be. People were evasive, and some were
downright untruthful. Even my own captain of operations. Why? I wondered. It was so long ago. Who cares?
Introduction xxv

It would be years, however, before I learned that my supervising captain was related to the woman who
had recanted her statements before death. “You’re on your own in this one,” he admonished me sternly.
Interestingly enough, while never revealing what he did know, he never attempted to discourage me either.
In one of the many quirks that can happen over the years in these cases, I would come to learn that a sole
surviving grand juror who participated in the investigation of this case in the late 1920s had recently been
murdered. He and his wife were bludgeoned to death in their farmhouse. By a nephew of the recently
deceased “rape” victim.
As I tried to combine a current homicide investigation with historical research, I had one luxury. I had
no TV cameras or media looking for sound bites and film clips for the evening news. Years later, I would
realize how much this helped me recreate a series of infamous events that polarized the community and
that saw numerous reinvestigations, state and federal, in the succeeding decades. The case was written up
in the true crime magazines over the decades. Few believed, it seemed, that Ryan was guilty.
As I conducted scores of interviews with people in their 70s through their 90s, I learned a lot about life
and the human experience as we age. I learned what worked and what did not when trying to elicit informa-
tion under these circumstances. Theirs was a different perspective on life than it was six decades before. I
came to understand that I had to overcome perspectives of the police formed in an era of the Keystone Cops
and Jimmy Cagney movies, a period of well-known corruption.
Naively at first, I thought they would open up for me. After all, the 1920s were a long time ago, and the
past was the past. Wasn’t it? Surely, they did not harbor hard feelings, or fears, from so long ago. Did they?
I came to realize that, yes, they did. Some were still terrified of a man who had died decades before. For
some, including a killer who sat in the backseat of my car, it was yesterday. Over the years, I felt like I had
one foot on a banana peel and the other on their graves as my interviews accelerated. I came to see, and to
try to identify with, the emotions of those who are caught up in the fabric of murder so long ago. I didn’t
need clinical research and “data” to tell me that the pain and the hurt are just below the surface. It always
has been and always will be, and it was increasingly visible for me. Slowly, some opened up and revealed
what they knew. It was a lot.
For those with something to hide, the fear of buried events coming to the surface brought forth a ter-
ror, and a danger, which I did not immediately recognize. The fear was multifaceted. It was a fear not only
for themselves but, perhaps more importantly, that their children and grandchildren would find out about
their terrible secret. Grandfather executed a terrified, 17-year-old girl with two shots to her head in a remote
canyon. A life spent running and hiding was in danger of exposure. I learned that although blood can be
thicker than water, there are those who know something and, given the right circumstances, may come
forward. Others, related to one of the victims, told me to “let it be.” They did not want the case reopened.
Ultimately, I would learn why.
Something else happened during this inquiry. I also began to uncover information on other murders,
or secondary homicides, as former bootleggers and others who did not have long to live cautiously opened
up. I had reviewed these cases as tangential issues to my case and came to believe that they were telling some
truths as they fed me bits and pieces of information about crimes they participated in, or seemingly had
firsthand knowledge of. I began to wonder, How many other unsolved murders were out there? How many
killers were undetected, and still alive? Perhaps still plying their horrible crimes.
I realized that investigation of the crimes entailed understanding the era—the time, place, and cir-
cumstance in which the crimes occurred. I learned about Prohibition and the effects upon local, state, and
national politics. One consequence was the trickle-down effect into the courtroom. I came to appreciate
how far law enforcement practices have come in the last 25 years, a sequence of fitting the suspect to the
evidence instead of fitting the evidence to the suspect, a practice once not uncommon.
DNA has brought forth a whole new chapter in our ability to identify perpetrators of violent crimes.
Fingerprint and DNA databases are tremendous resources. It was not that long ago, however, when science
xxvi Introduction

could only tell us whether the blood on the suspect or victim came from a human or an animal, and not
much else. Only in the mid–twentieth century did the science of blood pattern analysis gain a positive
foothold in forensic circles.
Forensics. A mainstay of current police investigative practice, it was not many decades in the past that
anyone with a camera and a test tube could call himself/herself an expert and consult on criminal cases for
significant fees. Notorious criminal trials in the first half of the twentieth century, and some into the second
half, have focused on the reliability and competency of the forensic evidence and the forensic practitioners.
Junk science truly was junk science, and we do not know how many wrongful convictions resulted. Or how
many guilty were never exposed.
Since 1930, the FBI has maintained extensive records on crime in America, including homicide. The
annual FBI uniform crime report (UCR) details murder in all its categories, including victim–offender
relationship, time of day, weapon, and more. Similarly, state criminal justice agencies have kept a myriad of
records and publish their own annual reports about murder and other crimes. Academics, policy makers,
the news media, and more can review these data in furtherance of their specific task. In doing so, we see
that murder is reported both in the numbers of murders that occur each year and in the percentage of those
reported that are cleared.
Missing from these reports, however, is any finding or reporting of the numbers of murders that remain
open and unsolved. Some murders are solved quickly, even within hours. Others may take weeks, months,
or even years to compile enough evidence to identify the suspect, link him/her to the crime, and make an
arrest.
Despite our best efforts, however, some murders are not solved. When all viable leads have been fol-
lowed up, and fresher cases compete for scarce resources, cases are suspended from active action. When
this occurs, they are filed, pending new information. They become cold cases. There are no national statis-
tics of unsolved cases. These reside within the domain of the responsible investigating agency and are not
reported.
As the years pass, these cases grow colder. Investigators move on in their careers. They retire, but they
do not forget. Time, once an enemy in homicide investigation, slowly becomes a friend. Technology and
relationships change. In the past decades, we have seen a resurgence of interest in cold case investigations
as more and more agencies dust off old files and utilize our newfound knowledge in pursuit of justice for
those who cannot speak. These cases become a passion for those homicide cops who investigate them, an
obsession to see justice done for the victim and their family. Sometimes, we find the wrong person went to
jail. We need to work just as hard to exonerate the innocent as we do to convict the guilty.
There is no magic checklist, no one-size-fits-all method of cold case homicide investigation. No text can
cover all the bases or consider every potential scenario involved. Some cases involve more effort than oth-
ers. But in the end, they boil down to dedicated cops and prosecutors who seek justice. And their partners
in the crime lab.
This text attempts to discuss some of the means and techniques used in practical cold case homicide
investigation, and to present the experiences of detectives who have solved cold cases. I hope that their
experiences inspire and assist those who come after.
Investigation
I
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 “Did he turn to and help when you landed, and found so much to do?”
asked Dick.
“Just what he did, as well as he could with his dainty ways. You see,
Dick, it’s got to be second nature with him to be eternally brushing himself
off. He hates the sight of dirt, which is just the opposite of some boys. But
then Humbert has been made a sissy by his uncle and his aunts. He should
have been called Geraldine or something like that. Still, I will say he did a
heap better than I ever thought he would.”
“Give him half a chance, Leslie,” urged Dick. “In spite of his superior
airs and high-flown language I think he’s a boy after all. What you saw was
a glimpse of the real nature showing under all the veneer they’ve plastered
on him. For years this thing of ‘cultuah’ as he calls it has been drilled into
the poor chap, so that he just can’t help it if he acts the way he does.”
“Well, I certainly hope he wakes up real soon then,” asserted Leslie;
“because some of the fellows say they won’t stand for his lofty ways much
longer. A ducking a day would wash some of it out of him, according to my
notion. My father says that true culture brings simplicity, and what
Humbert’s got is snobbery.”
The afternoon wore on, and much was accomplished. It is true the camp
did not present such a trim appearance as Mr. Bartlett intended should be
the case; but then they would have most of another day before Mr. Holwell
arrived.
Supper was prepared amidst much confusion, which would also have to
be remedied.
“‘Too many cooks spoil the broth,’” the camp leader quoted, “and I’ll
arrange it so that those who know something about the business of getting
up meals will have regular turns helping Jim at the job.”
“What about the greenhorns, sir?” asked Asa Gardner.
“For the moment they get off scot-free,” laughed Mr. Bartlett. “But they
will have to act as scullions and wood-bearers to the cook. That’s the
penalty for ignorance. The one who understands things always gets to the
top of the heap, and the one who doesn’t know beans, except when he tastes
them, has to do the drudgery in this world. So if you’re wise, Asa, hang
around when the meals are being prepared and pick up all the information
you can.”
“I certainly mean to, sir. And I want to say right now that I’ve eaten
twice as much supper as I would have done at home. It was just bully!”
“Oh! you’ve come by your camp appetite in a hurry it seems,” laughed
Dick.
They sat around for a long time afterwards, chatting, and singing some
of their school songs. For the first evening Mr. Bartlett meant to be easy
with the campers, he told them. The real discipline would begin in the
morning.
It was a novel experience for some of the lads who had never camped
out before. The fretting of the water along the shore; the mysterious
murmur of the soft wind through the tops of the pines and hemlocks; the
cries of certain night birds, such as an owl and a heron and a hawk, foraging
for food; gave them an excuse for looking half fearfully around at times,
and wondering if the darkness were peopled with all manner of strange
creatures. And the boys had not forgotten Mr. Nocker’s remarks about
watching out for a thief.
“What did he mean by looking out for a thief?” asked Leslie.
“I don’t know,” answered Peg. “Maybe we’ll find out some day.” And
they did—as we shall learn later.
Then came the moon, a little past her prime, peeping over the hills far to
the east, and looking down upon them, as though questioning in a mild way
their right to the occupancy of that island camp.
It was all very romantic, and even Asa Gardner confessed that he liked
it. The day, however, had been a strenuous one for all of them, and several
of the boys could already be detected slily yawning when they thought no
one was looking; so Mr. Bartlett concluded it would be wise for them to
think of taking to their blankets.
Before the order was given for retiring at nine o’clock, however, Mr.
Bartlett announced the programme for the early morning.
“At sunrise reveille will be sounded, when every boy is expected on the
campus, as we shall call this open space here. Mr. Rowland will put you
through the usual United States Army setting-up exercises. After that the
flag will be raised on the flagpole we’ve prepared, and will be saluted. Then
comes the morning bath and swim in which all are expected to join. After
breakfast we will have a brief chapel service in the big tent. At that time I
expect to announce the programme for the first day in camp. And now good
night to you all, boys. I hope every one of you will sleep well.”
After a little confusion, all sounds gradually died away, and only the
crackling of the fire could be heard, together with the wash of the waves
against the rocks. Camp Russabaga was asleep.
 CHAPTER IX
THE RULE OF ORDER AND DISCIPLINE

When the boys were talking of retiring Asa Gardner, who had been
hovering near, approached Mr. Bartlett and Dick.
The former, of course, knew more or less about the strange lad whose
past had been of a character to make him unhappy. Dick had managed to
explain to both the young men who were in charge of the camp how Asa
was fighting his battle manfully, and consequently they sympathized with
the boy.
“Do you want to ask me anything, Asa?” inquired Mr. Bartlett, kindly.
“Just a little favor, sir,” came the hesitating reply, for Asa was easily
confused, realizing as he did that people looked on him in a different way
from what they did ordinary lads.
“Then don’t hold back,” urged the young man, “for you’ll always find
that both Mr. Rowland and myself are willing to accommodate any of you
when it can be done without disturbing the ordinary routine of the camp too
much.”
“It was only this, sir,” continued Asa. “According to the programme
mapped out by Mr. Rowland, and which he read to us, I’m selected to sleep
to-night in the cabin along with three other fellows.”
“And what objection do you have to that, Asa? I think Mr. Rowland
picked out those who were to occupy the cabin with a purpose in view,” the
camp leader remarked, kindly.
“I’m sure he did, sir, for he said as much,” Asa admitted. “But you see
it’s this way with me. I’ve been feeling a heap better ever since I took to
sleeping on that porch they enclosed with wire netting. It’s been nearly a
year now since I started to try that sort of thing, and I’ve got so used to it
I’m afraid I’d feel awfully choky and queer if I tried to sleep in a room
again.”
 “I reckon there’s a whole lot in that, too, Asa,” said Dick, with a quick
glance at the camp leader, who nodded in approval. “I’ve heard people say
they couldn’t bear to go to bed inside four walls after sleeping outdoors for
a long time. They complain that it seems to smother them.”
“Just so,” added Mr. Bartlett, “and I suppose that’s why gypsies who
used to come to Cliffwood trading horses and telling fortunes said no
winter’s storm could ever drive them to seek shelter in a house-dweller’s
place. I’ll make arrangements to have you exchange places with one of the
boys in a tent, Asa. And I’m glad you spoke of it in time. Remember, both
Mr. Rowland and I will be pleased to oblige any of you boys when the
request is as reasonable as yours.”
“I don’t suppose there’ll be any danger out here on this big island, sir?”
remarked Asa, a little uneasily, Dick noticed, as he glanced around at the
moonlit vicinity, and shivered.
“Oh! there’s very small chance that the island holds any wild animals
larger than raccoons and squirrels,” replied the camp leader.
“Besides, Asa,” Dick added, “you must remember that even a wildcat is
afraid of fire, and as a rule shuns the presence of human beings. The
chances are we’ll not be disturbed in any way while camping on Bass
Island.”
And so it came about that Asa found a place in one of the tents, where
he could make himself comfortable near the entrance, and breathe all the
free night air he wished.
Dick slept close to the opening of the tent he occupied in company with
three other campers. Mr. Bartlett had constituted him a sort of assistant
campmaster, to take charge whenever both he and the physical instructor
were absent. Besides this, everybody knew that Dick was better acquainted
with certain matters connected with outdoor life than most of the other
boys, since he had long made woodcraft a study.
Once, during that first night on the island, on awakening from a sound
sleep, Dick crawled softly out of the tent and took a look around. It was a
beautiful night, such as filled his boyish heart with delight.
The moon, almost full, was climbing up close to the zenith, and sent
down a flood of bright light on the slumbering world below. The soft night
breeze continued to whisper among the tops of the tall pine trees. The
gentle waves washed the rocky shore of the big island with a soothing
murmur never to be forgotten.
Just as the sun began to peep above the eastern horizon a gun was fired
and a bugle reveille followed immediately afterward. Those of the boys
who were not already up came dashing out of the tents and the cabin,
prepared to enter upon the duties of this, the first full day in camp.
They found both Mr. Bartlett and the physical instructor ready for them,
while Sunny Jim, who was never seen without a broad grin on his face, had
begun to bustle around amidst his pots and pans as though making
arrangements for starting breakfast.
“Every one in camp with the exception of our cook will be expected to
join in the programme for the early morning!” called out Mr. Rowland, who
was a splendidly built young man, the possessor of several medals won in
athletic matches. “The first of these will be the setting-up exercises, to start
your blood into full action, after which we will have a dip in the lake.”
A number of the boys did not know the least thing about swimming, and
were more or less timid about entering the water. Mr. Rowland soon gave
them to understand there was nothing to be afraid of. He intended that there
should be no skylarking, no ducking, no horse-play among themselves.
“We expect to have swimming classes,” he told them as they gathered
around at the edge of the water, clad in their bathing trunks only. “A life
saving crew will be organized, and no boy will be allowed to go beyond
certain bounds on penalty of having his privileges curtailed, or even cut off
altogether. There will be no accidents in the water at Camp Russabaga if we
can prevent it. Now listen while I lay down the law, and then every one of
you must enter the water.”
Three of the boys looked glum at hearing this talk. As may be easily
understood they were Nat Silmore and his two cronies, Dit Hennesy and
Alonzo Crane. They had finally decided to accompany the campers in the
hope of finding numerous chances to enjoy a joke at the expense of their
fellows. It appeared now as though they had deceived themselves and had
made a great mistake, and this realization caused them to look “sour,” as
some of the boys expressed it, understanding what was the matter with the
trio of tricksters.
The flag was already flying in the morning breeze, and it really looked
as if the camp had been inaugurated after the customary manner. All over
our land similar camps organized by enthusiastic members of the numerous
Y. M. C. A. organizations are being conducted along the same lines. Some
of these are run during the entire summer, detachments of young fellows
coming and going from time to time, and all benefiting greatly through their
brief stay in the open, under strict and sanitary rules.
Sunny Jim had been bustling around preparing breakfast. With that
broad smile on his ebony face he looked as though he meant to do his part
toward making the camp a success. The boys knew him very well, since
Sunny Jim had been a character in Cliffwood for many years. They were
also aware of his reputation as a first-class cook, and anticipated being
treated to many a sumptuous feast while they were in camp.
Some of the boys dressed more rapidly than others, and among the
clever ones were Dick, Peg Fosdick and Dan Fenwick. Peg, having a notion
that he would like to learn all he could about camp cooking as practised by
an experienced man like Sunny Jim, hovered around the fire, watching and
offering to assist whenever he saw the chance.
Breakfast was almost ready, and some of the other boys could be seen
thrusting their heads out from the tents to sniff eagerly the delightful odors
that permeated the camp.
It was just at this time that Peg, who had been looking around and
asking hurried questions of the colored cook, was heard to call aloud
indignantly:
“Say, I just want to know who’s gone and hid away that new aluminum
frying-pan I brought along. I borrowed it from our cook at home just
because it was so big and nice and shiny, as well as light. I carefully put it
on this nail here, and Jim says he never once touched it, yet you can see it’s
gone. Did anybody glimpse a sign of it around?”
“Here, who’s started to playing tricks in this camp so early?” called Dan
Fenwick, indignantly. “My nickel watch was in my vest pocket when I
undressed, but it’s disappeared like smoke. Mr. Bartlett, make the fellow
own up who took it, won’t you please?”
 CHAPTER X
THINGS BEGIN TO VANISH

“Are you fellows joking, or is all you’re saying true?” demanded Phil
Harkness; while the others began to crane their necks and stare at Dan and
Peg.
“Honest Injun, the frying-pan has cleared out, and if it doesn’t turn up,
why Sunny Jim and I will have to do the best we can with these common
sheet iron ones,” Peg grumbled. “And that isn’t the worst of it, either,
because just think what’ll happen to me when I get home again.”
“And you can see for yourselves that my vest pocket doesn’t show a
sign of my little nickel watch,” added Dan, with a shrug of his shoulders
and a quick look around, as though a suspicion had suddenly clutched hold
of him.
“But Dan,” interrupted Elmer Jones, “seems to me that before we
crawled into our blankets I saw you hang your watch on to that nail driven
through the tent pole.”
“Well, come to think of it, that’s just what I did do,” admitted the
mourning Dan. “But you don’t see any watch on that nail right now, do
you?” and he rubbed his eyes vigorously as though trying to discover
whether they could be playing a trick on him.
Everybody agreed that the nail was destitute of any such appendage as a
dollar nickel watch. Mr. Bartlett looked serious, but allowed the boys to talk
it over.
“Well, there’s no use mourning for lost things when breakfast is nearly
ready,” declared good-natured Fred Bonnicastle. “Mebbe the watch is just
having a little joke of its own, and will turn up later in some pocket of your
clothes, Dan.”
“I’m as hungry as a wolf!” called out Clint Babbett.
“Huh! I could eat my weight, and then not half try,” ventured Nat
Silmore.
 If the truth were told, Nat spoke up in this boyish way simply because
he fancied some of the others were commencing to cast queer looks in his
direction.
Dan did not say anything more but he did much thinking. Dick Horner
was bothered. At first he concluded that it must be some boyish prank, and
that presently the culprit would confess his guilt with shamefaced looks,
realizing that after all it did not pay to play silly jokes, especially in a camp
where strict discipline was to be maintained.
The more Dick thought it over, however, the less inclined he was to
view it in such a simple light. So far as the vanishing watch was concerned
that might pass current, for every one knew how much Dan thought of the
present from his father on his last birthday; but when the disappearance of
the cooking pan was considered, what boy would be silly enough to hide
that?
That the subject was in the minds of most of the campers was evident,
for while they were enjoying breakfast the thing came up again. It was Peg
who introduced it by saying:
“Seems to me Mr. Nocker knew what he was saying when he warned us
to beware of that thief up here on Bass Island. Looks as if we ought to chain
things down good and tight every time we go to sleep, because they do
seem to have a queer way of walking off.”
Humbert Loft was seen to curl his lip, and those close to him heard him
give a scornful sniff while he observed in his drawling, affected way:
“It’s simply shocking, that’s what I think. Why, right now every
individual in this camp is really under suspicion of being a vulgar thief! I
never dreamed that I should find myself amidst such dreadful surroundings.
I imagine some of my ancestors would turn in their graves with horror if
they knew a Loft had the finger of suspicion pointed at him.”
He looked as though his appetite had been taken away by the thought.
The boys, however, being no respecters of persons, only laughed.
“The walking’s good between here and the station, Humbert!” remarked
one.
 “And there’s sure to be a train for Cliffwood before night, you know,”
another told him in a mocking tone.
Humbert turned red, but for all that there was a glint of defiance in his
eyes, Dick noticed, when he flung back his answer.
“Oh! I suppose we’re all in one boat, boys, and if you can stand it I
ought to be able to do so. On the whole, I’ll reconsider your offer of some
of that bacon, Eddie. Perhaps it may start my sluggish appetite, who
knows?”
“But who can it be, hanging around here and stealing everything he can
lay his hands on?” persisted Phil Harkness.
“Might be some lunatic that’s escaped from the asylum and is hiding in
the woods and brush on the island!” intimated Peg.
The suggestion met with some favor, several of the boys agreeing that
there might be a grain of truth in such a thing.
The two camp leaders were amused, as well as puzzled, by all this talk,
and waited to see what would come of it.
“I’ve read a lot about the queer things people out of their minds keep on
doing,” Andy Hale asserted. “But it seems to me if a crazy man were
hanging around up here our grub would be the first thing he’d tackle.”
“Well,” Clint observed, sagaciously, “he might have done that if we
hadn’t been wise enough to stack about all of the grub in the other cabin,
and fasten the door.”
Dick said nothing, but did considerable thinking. For once he was ready
to admit that the mystery of the night gave birth to unusually puzzling
questions that would have to be solved if they hoped to enjoy their outing
on Bass Island, and he resolved to talk the matter over with Mr. Bartlett and
Mr. Rowland as soon as he had an opportunity.
“We might set some sort of trap for the rascal, and make him a
prisoner,” suggested Andy Hale, thoughtfully. “Now I reckon I could
manage to fix up a deadfall such as they trap bears with in the Maine
woods.”
 “But that’d be apt to hurt the poor fellow, or even kill him,” protested
Clint Babbett.
“With a rope and a bent sapling I can show you how they trap alligators
in some countries,” spoke up another boy eagerly. “I was reading about it
only last week, and actually tried it on our dog. Why, when the sapling was
released the noose in the rope tightened around both his hind legs, and the
first thing I knew there was poor old Carlo hanging head down, and yelping
to beat the band. I had to cut the rope in a big hurry because he acted like a
wild thing.”
“How would that sort of thing go, Dick?” asked Leslie, with a wink at
his chum.
“Well,” replied the other, with one of his smiles and a glance toward Mr.
Bartlett, “I hardly think any of us would want to be so cruel as to hang a
human being up by the legs, with his head down; and especially if, as we
suspect, he should be one who was out of his mind and not responsible for
what he did.”
Somehow in all the talk that flew around concerning the important
subject Dick could not but notice that there were two of the boys who
seemed to be tongue-tied.
These were Dan Fenwick and Asa Gardner.
Dick could easily comprehend why Dan should keep silent, because, as
the loser of the watch that had so strangely vanished, Dan was feeling more
or less morose. And then again, when Dick considered what the past
reputation of Asa Gardner had been he felt that there was some reason why
the new boy should not seek to draw attention to himself.
Asa certainly looked troubled. He listened to all that was said, turning
his eyes from speaker to speaker, but uttering not a word himself. When any
one addressed him, merely asking him if he would have another cup of
coffee or a little more bacon, Asa always gave a violent start and drew in
his breath with a sigh before replying one way or the other.
Breakfast was finally finished and the boys hung around waiting for Mr.
Bartlett to read the programme for the day.
 He and Mr. Rowland were busy with the details of that programme, and
Dick had not yet found the opportune moment for speaking to the camp
leader. Dan came over to Dick’s side the first favorable chance he had.
“I want to speak to you about something queer, Dick,” he remarked, as
he threw himself down and looked carefully around, as though to make sure
some one he had in mind was far enough away not to overhear what he
expected to say.
“All right,” Dick told him, “fire away. I can be keeping up my work on
this home-made broom of twigs which we’ll have to use to sweep with. Is it
about your watch?”
“Just what it is, Dick,” the other went on to say, gloomily. “In a nutshell
then, I happened to wake up in the night, and saw some one walking
between me and the fire. And Dick, it was Asa Gardner!”
 CHAPTER XI
MR. HOLWELL GETS THE WELCOMING CHEER

Dick heard the other make this accusation with a sinking heart. Could it
be possible after all Asa Gardner was guilty of taking the things that had
disappeared?
“Why, when you stop to think of it, Dan,” he told his informant, “while
a boy given to pilfering might carry off a watch if sorely tempted, what
earthly use would he have for Peg’s new aluminum frying-pan?”
This seemed to be a poser, and Dan shrugged his shoulders and made a
whimsical face. A new idea came to him, however, and almost immediately
he spoke up again.
“Well it’s just this way, Dick. My mother always said that taking things
as some people do becomes a disease with them. I’ve read of wealthy
women who steal things in stores. They call them kleptomaniacs. That
means they take all sorts of things when they see a good chance, even if
they haven’t the least bit of use for the same.”
“Then your mother thinks Asa was influenced that way when some
people called him light-fingered, and some of them said he was a common
thief?” continued Dick.
“Yes, that’s what she thought,” replied Dan. “You know I’ve got the
dearest mother of any fellow in all Cliffwood, and she hates to think badly
of any boy.”
“And we mustn’t forget that Asa hasn’t any mother—now,” added Dick
softly, as he cast a pitying look across to where the object of their
conversation was helping Sunny Jim gather together the breakfast dishes
and pans, and acting as though he really liked the work.
“I hate myself for suspecting him, Dick,” honest Dan went on to say.
“And so far as my losing that watch goes I don’t mean to push the thing any
further. Whoever took it is welcome to his booty, for all of me.”
 “On my part,” said Dick, firmly, “I feel different about it. We can’t go
on this way, losing things, and even suspecting each other. The mystery
must be cleared up sooner or later. I’ll step over and get to talking with Asa.
Perhaps I can ask him if he happened to be up during the night. I’d like it if
we could go to Mr. Bartlett and tell him the whole thing was straightened
out.”
“Oh, what’s the use of going to Asa?” objected Dan. “He’s sure to deny
it. I wonder now,” he added, after a pause, “if there could be such a thing as
Asa, or any other fellow here, for that matter, being a sleep walker?”
Dick gave a little whistle of surprise at hearing such a startling
suggestion.
“You certainly do have the most original ideas of any fellow going,
Dan,” he remarked. “Such a thing might happen, of course, but there’d be
small chance of it up here, with twenty boys in camp.”
“Except for my waking up at the time I did,” urged the other, “nobody’d
have known about Asa’s being on his feet in the dead of night. But after
you’ve had your little talk with him tell me what comes of it, will you?”
“I certainly will,” promised Dick.
Shortly afterwards he joined Asa, and entered into conversation with the
boy. A little later on Dick came sauntering back to where Dan was sitting,
waiting for the summons to gather on the “campus” which had not yet been
given.
“Well, did he deny being abroad in the night, Dick?” eagerly asked the
other, taking care to speak in a low voice.
“Not a bit,” Dick told him. “I never even had to ask him. We were
talking about whether it would pay to keep the fire going at night when Asa
of his own accord remarked that it was still blazing feebly when he felt so
thirsty that he had to crawl out and go over to where we keep the bucket of
spring water with the dipper. And he added that while he was not quite sure,
because he had not got fully used to reading the time of night by the stars,
he thought it must have been somewhere in the neighborhood of one
o’clock.”
Dan looked thoughtful on hearing that.
 “Tell you what, Dick,” he said presently. “I’m going to try to forget all
about my watch. Let it go at that. So Asa is trying to be a real woodsman, is
he? Well, I wish him luck then.”
With that he walked away, and Dick, looking after him, said to himself
that Dan Fenwick had a heart in his breast several sizes too big for him.
Dick later on often found himself watching Asa Gardner when he
fancied the other was not noticing. He could see that the boy was not
wholly at ease for some reason. Still Dick would not allow himself to
believe that Asa was guilty.
“I can’t forget that day I saw him lying there on his mother’s grave and
promising her never to break his word if it killed him fighting off the old
temptation,” Dick kept telling himself again and again. “No, Asa can’t be
guilty, but all the same I’ll feel a heap happier when we do find out who the
thief is.”
Presently the boys were summoned into the big tent where Mr. Bartlett
carried out the usual short chapel service, for every camp of the Y. M. C. A.
is conducted on a religious basis.
“I am ready now,” announced the camp director, “to give you a part of
the duties of the day. At noon I shall have formed my plans for the rest of
the time, and by to-morrow we shall have gotten things to running
smoothly. In the first place this camp is going to be no place for idlers.
Every boy will have a share in the work and be expected to do his level best
in keeping the camp tidy, doing the chores, and, in fact, whatever is given
into his charge.
“Mr. Rowland, who will have entire charge of the athletic proceedings,
has arranged a splendid series of events that he expects will create a healthy
rivalry among many of the boys who are now with us. Prizes will be given
to those who excel in nature study, photography, swimming, diving, rowing,
life-saving feats, woodcraft, and a number of other things along the same
lines. And now if you listen I will read the programme for this morning, so
that every one may know just what he is expected to do.”
The boys showed a keen interest in what the camp director was saying,
although Nat and his two cronies still looked disappointed, because they did
not fancy the idea of being bound down to iron-clad rules and regulations
when they had expected to loaf and to have a roaring good time.
The vicinity of the camp soon took on a bustling atmosphere. Some
planks had been brought from the station on one of the wagons. These some
of the boys, who aspired to be amateur carpenters, managed to fashion into
a very good table, large enough to allow them all to be seated at the same
time, to replace the rougher one thrown together when they first landed.
This could be moved at will, so that in case of bad weather they would
be able to take their meals under the shelter of the big tent. Ordinarily,
however, they preferred dining in the open, for the charm of the thing
appealed to the campers.
A number of rude benches had also been put together, so that things
would look quite comfortable by the time another meal was ready to be
served.
Being appealed to by several ardent fishermen, the camp director had
given them permission to make good use of the handy little minnow seine
made of mosquito netting. The bait thus secured could be kept alive in a
basin constructed near the edge of the lake, into which water from a spring
trickled.
Having taken all the bait they needed with a few hauls, the boys were
given the privilege of going out in one of the boats to try the fishing.
Certain localities were selected that appealed to their instinct as places
where the wary bass would be apt to stay during these hot summer days.
When later on the fishermen returned it was discovered that they had
met with great success. Quite enough prizes had been taken to provide a
fish course for the entire party.
“Some of them are whoppers in the bargain,” remarked Peg Fosdick,
proudly, for he had been a member of the angling party. “Why, that big
fellow must weigh all of three pounds! And how he did jump and pull! I
thought he’d break my rod or line several times. I never before took such a
dandy bass.”
“This island is well named then, it seems,” observed Dick, with
something of satisfaction in his voice as he looked at the splendid strings of
fish. Dick himself dearly loved to spend an hour with hook and line, and
feel the thrill that always raced through his system when a gamy fish had
been secured, fighting frantically for freedom.
“Who’s going to meet Mr. Holwell this afternoon, sir?” asked Fred
Bonnicastle, as they sat around the new table that noon with one of the
camp heads at either end and eagerly devoured the lunch that Sunny Jim,
assisted by a couple of the boys, had prepared for them.
Harry Bartlett had been a boy himself only a few years back, and he
could easily understand what unasked question lay back of that remark.
“You may go, for one, Fred,” he told the other. “Take Asa along with
you. He seems to have taken a fancy to rowing, and has entered in that class
for a prize. The exercise will do him good in the bargain. I have other duties
I want the rest of you to attend to, there is so much to be done before Camp
Russabaga assumes the complete aspect we all want it to wear when Mr.
Holwell arrives this evening.”
Asa shot the leader a look of sincere gratitude, though he did not say
anything. As a rule Asa was not a talkative boy, and some of them noticed
that of late he had seemed to be brooding more than usual.
During the earlier part of the afternoon many things were accomplished,
for under the direction of the physical instructor the boys worked like
beavers.
“About time you were starting across to the landing, Fred and Asa,”
announced Mr. Bartlett, finally, as he consulted his watch.
The pair went off, heading for the mainland. Mr. Holwell had promised
to arrive on the train that reached the little station at four o’clock. He would
take a team to bring him to the camp, and hoped to be on hand long before
sundown.
It lacked a few minutes of five now, and dinner was being gotten ready,
though the fish would not be put on the fire or the coffee started until just as
the minister should arrive at the landing on the main shore.
Asa persisted in doing the rowing across, and even asked Fred to let him
handle the oars on the return trip.
“You see I need all this outdoor exercise I can get,” he explained, and
the request was so unusual that Fred, of course, obligingly granted him
permission.
“I ought to be satisfied to act as the skipper of the craft, and take my
ease, Asa,” he went on to say, laughingly, as he lay in the stern, and
stretched his long legs out comfortably; “so just please yourself. I’m always
ready to oblige a willing worker.”
After a while those on the island heard a series of loud shouts, and they
managed to make out a team that had arrived at the landing. Mr. Holwell
then had not failed them, and every one in the camp felt pleased at the idea
of having him with them. When a man loves boys from the bottom of his
heart it invariably happens that they regard him with something of the same
sort of affection.
“There, he’s getting into the boat now!” called out Clint Babbett, whose
keen eyes were able to keep track of passing events across that mile of
water better than most of the others. “And say! it looks as if he’s brought a
heap of packages along with him.”
“Sure thing,” laughed Peg Fosdick, rubbing his stomach vigorously.
“Mr. Holwell was a boy himself once on a time, and he’s never forgotten
that a fellow gets as hungry as a cannibal every little while. I reckon now he
concluded that we’d underestimated our holding capacity, and that we’d
nearly starve unless he brought along a new lot of supplies.”
“There they start,” said Mr. Bartlett, presently. “When the boat draws in
near our landing be ready to give our honored guest the glad welcome
cheer.”
Closer it drew, under the steady strokes of Asa Gardner. Finally, there
arose a roar of voices, accompanied by the violent waving of hats and
handkerchiefs, that made the minister’s heart beat a little faster than its
wont with pleasure.
 CHAPTER XII
HAPPENINGS OF THE SECOND NIGHT

When Mr. Holwell stepped ashore to shake hands heartily all around he
looked very happy indeed.
“I’m delighted to be with you, boys,” he told them again and again, in
his sincere way that always drew young people to him.
“The feeling is mutual then, sir,” spoke up Peg Fosdick, bluntly;
“because we’re just tickled half to death to see you up here at Camp
Russabaga. And now, you assistant cooks, suppose you get busy with
dinner. Mr. Holwell will be awfully hungry after his journey, and Sunny Jim
can’t do it all by himself.”
The camp director, accompanied by Dick as his assistant, took the
newcomer around to show him what had been accomplished. As Mr.
Holwell had never set eyes on the big lake before he was greatly impressed
with the picture he saw in the dying sunlight.
“Wait until sunset, sir,” said Dick, eagerly, “and if it’s anything like we
had last evening, with the whole sky painted in colors, you’ll surely say you
never saw the equal of it.”
“I want to remark right now, Mr. Bartlett, that your boys have done
exceedingly well to get this camp in the condition it is. I’ve been in camps
before now, and, as a rule, the campers are a happy-go-lucky set, willing to
shirk work so as to have what they call a good time. But here everything
seems to have a place, and to be where it belongs. Order is a fine thing for
any boy to learn; and cleanliness comes next to godliness.”
The minister watched the preparations for the meal with kindling eyes.
His memory took him back a good many years to the times when he was a
boy himself; and he could appreciate the enthusiasm with which Sunny Jim
and his helpers went at their pleasing task of getting the good things to eat
ready for the table.
And then that dinner—what a royal one it turned out to be! After the
simple and earnest grace the meal was served. Mr. Holwell showered
unstinted praise on everything that came before him. The fish were broiled
to a turn, the coffee was real ambrosia fit for the gods, the potatoes had
been baked just right, the succotash made him constantly feel like asking
for more. And, winding up with a dish of rice and milk and sugar, he
declared it to be better than any pudding he had tasted for years.
“I think Mr. Holwell is getting his camp appetite in order right away,”
suggested Peg, who, of course, was delighted to have the culinary efforts
praised in this fashion.
“To tell the truth,” admitted the minister, frankly, “I consider that I
showed most wonderful sagacity in fetching along additional supplies with
me, because if I stir up any more appetite than I seem to have to-night
there’ll be a terrible drain on your stock of provisions.”
“Oh! we know where there’s a farm only two miles away,” said Phil,
“and to-morrow half a dozen of us have been detailed by Mr. Bartlett to
tramp over there and get all the eggs and fresh butter and such things we
can lug back with us.”
“And as long as those dandy bass are willing to take our minnows,”
added Peg, “we ought to keep the wolf from the door, somehow or other.”
After the meal they piled high the campfire, and when the dishes had
been looked after every one sat around in various attitudes, either taking
part in the brisk conversation or listening to what Mr. Holwell and the camp
leaders said in the way of congratulation and advice.
Finally, several were discovered surreptitiously yawning, and Dick
realized that the bed hour had arrived. So interesting had the talk been that
none of them had paid any attention to the flight of time.
“Where am I going to sleep?” asked Mr. Holwell, when Harry Bartlett
explained that nine o’clock was the hour set in the camp for retiring.
Moreover, they had put in a strenuous day from before sunrise, and
consequently all the boys were tired.
“We have provided a cot in the tent we occupy, Mr. Holwell,” explained
the physical director. “Some of the boys have made us a small table for our
few toilet articles, shaving things, and such. Besides, we have a couple of
folding chairs. Only for a shortage of tents we should have been glad to
give you one to yourself, sir.”
 The minister shook his head vigorously at that.
“I am glad you didn’t,” he told them, smilingly. “I am no tenderfoot
when it comes to camping, you will find; for in days that are past I
wandered over many parts of the world, and even faced many perils. I have
slept in the igloo of an Esquimau, as well as under the haircloth tent of a
desert Bedouin. I would never stand for being given accommodations that
differed in any degree from those of the boys.”
When they heard him say that, some of the campers felt like shouting
their appreciation, only this early in the outing they had come to understand
that boisterous ways must be kept under control.
Somehow or other, there had been so much to talk about while they sat
around the bright crackling fire after supper that no one had thought to
mention the little mystery of the first night of their stay on Bass Island.
Dick remembered about it when he was undressing, and was half
tempted to break rules by crossing over to the tent where the three
gentlemen were to sleep, with the intention of speaking to Mr. Holwell.
“What’s the use?” he asked himself on second thought. “It would only
bother him more or less, and perhaps make him have a sleepless night;
because I’m sure he’d begin to think something about poor Asa. In the
morning I’ll watch my chance and tell him about it.”
Accordingly, Dick held his peace. His tent mates were Leslie Capes,
Peg and Andy Hale, all congenial companions, and Dick expected
considerable enjoyment during the nights they would be together.
Talking aloud was prohibited after half-past nine, so that if any fellows
like Nat and his cronies, who had their quarters together, wished to
converse they would have to do it in whispers.
Mr. Bartlett had laid down strict rules, and the penalties for breaking
these would fall heavily on the heads of the offenders. Curtailing all
privileges might cause the guilty ones to repent of having been so rash.
For once in their lives Nat, Dit and Alonzo found it necessary to do as
they were told; and they were already regretting their step in deciding to
accompany the campers on the outing.
 Dick had purposely chosen a particular spot near the exit when
arranging his blanket. He did this for several reasons. In the first place he
liked the idea of attending to the fire in case he happened to wake up during
the night, just as all old woodsmen and hunters were in the habit of doing,
Dick understood. Then again, if there came any sort of alarm, and he
wished to get out in a hurry, it would be more convenient for him than if he
had to stumble over several boys who were beginning to sit up and get in
the way.
Truth to tell, about this time the mysterious events of the preceding
night began to take hold of his mind. Much to his chagrin, for some little
time Dick could not banish them, try as he would.
“Here, this will never do,” he finally told himself after he had turned
over as many as four different times, his thoughts busy all the while. “Just
forget everything but the one fact that you’re sleepy, and it’s getting pretty
late.”
Resolutely holding his mind in check after that, the boy finally
succeeded in falling asleep though it required considerable force of
character to control his feverish thoughts.
Several hours must have crept by when Dick chanced to awaken. One of
his arms felt numb from the weight of his body which had been resting on
it.
“I suppose I might as well throw a log on the fire while I’m about it,” he
told himself, as, yawning, he commenced to push aside his blanket and
crawl forth. “And a few swallows of that cool water wouldn’t go bad either,
for I’m thirsty after all that salty ham I ate.”
The moon was well up in the heavens when he crept forth from the
shelter of the tent and was shining just as brilliantly as on the preceding
night. Without making any sort of noise calculated to disturb even a light
sleeper Dick crossed over to where the flickering fire lay.
As he did so something caused him to glance beyond, and he felt a thrill
as he believed he caught a glimpse of a crouching moving figure over by
the bushes.
 CHAPTER XIII
THE MYSTERY GROWS DEEPER

“Why, it’s gone!” muttered Dick, immediately afterwards, for the object
that he had seen so dimly had now vanished.
He stepped over to the red ashes and threw on some small stuff that,
taking fire immediately, blazed up brightly and allowed him to see much
better.
“I wonder if it slipped into those bushes, or went around another way?”
he asked himself.
Was it one of the campers he had seen slipping along in a bent-over
attitude, or could it have been a shadow moving? Dick’s heart was
thumping against his ribs, for he was more or less excited over the
occurrence, especially after what had happened on the preceding night.
“WHY, IT’S GONE!” MUTTERED DICK.
 “I’d like to see if anybody is missing from his blanket,” he continued to
mutter, “but to do that I’d have to wake the whole bunch up, and there
would be the mischief to pay. Perhaps I fooled myself after all, and just
imagined I was seeing things.”
So concluding to let the matter rest until morning came, Dick proceeded
to toss a couple of big pine-knots, that would burn for several hours, on the
fire. Then he glanced dubiously around him once more, after which he
returned to his blanket.
But not to sleep immediately, for his brain was too excited for that.
Indeed, the boy lay there, turning from side to side, until the morning star
had arisen above the horizon and shone in upon him, which fact announced
that it was three o’clock.
After that his tired brain allowed him to forget his troubles for a time;
and when he opened his eyes again the first peep of dawn had come.
Dick crawled softly out and proceeded to get into some clothes. There
was no need of arousing everybody in the camp at such an early hour, and
he knew very well that if he chanced to awaken some of the noisy ones
there would be no further peace until the last sleeper had been dislodged.
He was building up the fire a little later when Leslie appeared in his
pajamas, stretching himself, having evidently just awakened.
“Always the first to be on deck, Dick; there’s no getting ahead of you,”
he said. And then he added: “But why are you looking over our cooking
outfit that way? Peg made sure to hide the aluminum kettle he brought
along, if that’s what you miss. He said it was bad enough to lose his frying-
pan without having the kettle follow it.”
“I had forgotten,” remarked Dick, relieved, and it was evident that he
had feared the unknown thief had paid the camp another of his nocturnal
visits.
“Looks as if we might have another good day,” continued Leslie, as he
began to change from his pajamas to his “work clothes,” as he called the old
suit he had been wise enough to wear on this outing.
“I certainly hope we shall have a bright day,” Dick observed, “because
Mr. Rowland has a programme laid out that fills in the whole of it for
everybody.”
“I can see that they mean the boys sha’n’t rust out while we’re up here
on Bass Island,” chuckled Leslie. “They believe with the ant that every
shining hour ought to be improved, because there’s always lots to do.”
“Oh! it isn’t that alone,” he was told, calmly. “As Mr. Holwell says,
boys have just got to be doing something all the time or they’ll think up
mischief; so it’s policy to chain that restlessness to good works. Most of us
seem to like it first-rate in the bargain.”
“Haven’t heard the first whine so far,” admitted Leslie. “Those boys
from the mill are certainly doing great stunts. They never had a chance
before really to camp out decently, with plenty to eat along. And then
there’s Nat and his cronies behaving like human beings for once, though I
shouldn’t be surprised if they did manage to break out before we get home
again.”
“Let’s hope not,” said Dick.
Several other boys now made their appearance. They were not in the
habit of getting out of bed at such an early hour at home; but in camp the
surroundings were so entirely different that they could not get to sleep
again, once they opened their eyes at daybreak and heard whispering going
on outside. Besides, they expected the bugle to sound at any minute now.
Then again with some of them it was a case of hunger, for those terrible
appetites had taken complete possession of them, and hardly had they
disposed of one meal than they began to talk of what they would like to
have for the next one.
Eddie Grant and Ban Jansen, being the assistant cooks for the morning,
were soon helping Sunny Jim. Peg hovered near them, having first of all
hastened to where he had secreted his aluminum kettle which he brought
back to the kitchen department with considerable satisfaction, if the grin on
his face meant anything.
“Gave us the go-by last night, it seems, Dick,” he observed, as he
flourished the shiny article in which their rice had been cooked on the
preceding night.
 “I hope we won’t be troubled any more by having our things disappear,”
was all Dick remarked, for somehow he did not feel altogether certain that
the crisis had passed by.
Just then the loud notes of the bugle sounded, for Harry Bartlett had
practised the various army calls and had them down to perfection, from the
“reveille” to the “assembly” and “taps.”
Once again the boys went through the customary manual drill, while
Mr. Holwell, ready for his morning bath, stood and watched the display
with considerable interest.
“I can see that you mean your boys shall get the full benefit of their
outing up here, Mr. Rowland,” he told the athletic trainer as all started down
to the brim of the lake to enjoy a brief plunge. “I can easily understand now
what wonderful benefit any lad is sure to get from a few weeks spent in one
of the many Y. M. C. A. camps spread all over this broad land, especially if
they are being conducted on the same principles you and Mr. Bartlett have
instituted here.”
“Oh! this is only a very small edition, sir,” laughed the other, who had
had considerable experience in Y. M. C. A. camps. “I’ve been in camps
where there were as many as a hundred and fifty boys and young fellows
coming and going all summer.”
“When you have time,” said the minister, eagerly, “I wish you would
tell me more about how these wonderful camps are conducted. As you say
our attempt is only a small beginning, but if all goes well next season we
can have this camp running for two months. Mr. Nocker has become greatly
interested in the matter, and offers to erect a few buildings up here, such as
an ice-house, a dining hall, and the like, though tents would still be used for
sleeping purposes.”
“I am delighted to hear that, sir,” said the athletic instructor, warmly.
“From what I have seen I believe this to be one of the finest movements
ever started to give boys the right kind of outdoor life under clean and
religious surroundings. They can have all the fun necessary, and at the same
time build up both their bodies and their minds in a healthy fashion. Now if
you will watch I can show you some of the work of our life-saving corps.
You will see that with such well-trained helpers there will be no danger of
even the most timid or awkward bather incurring any risk of losing his life.”
Mr. Holwell was deeply interested.
“Tell me more about the life-saving crew, and what requirements they
must be able to meet before they are fully qualified to serve as members in
good standing,” he asked the athletic director, as they stood, after coming
out of the water themselves, watching all that went on.
“I shall do so with pleasure,” replied the other, his eyes sparkling. Truth
to tell, that was the very thing he took the keenest interest in. “You see the
crew in one of the big Y. M. C. A. camps is really an auxiliary branch of the
United States Volunteer Life-saving Corps. To become a member a boy
must pass through a stiff test. This consists of swimming one hundred
yards, using three different strokes; swimming on the back without the use
of his hands; swimming one hundred yards, starting with his clothes on, and
removing them while doing it; diving into water about eight feet deep for a
ten-pound rock, and bringing it to shore; knowing how to handle a boat, and
being familiar with its different parts, as well as tying various sailor knots.”
Mr. Holwell looked surprised.
“Quite an education in itself, I should say,” he remarked.
“Oh! that is only a beginning,” continued the other. “The candidate must
show himself capable of rescuing a drowning person, and must actually
carry him to safety. He must be able to break a ‘death-grip’ so as to be in a
position to keep himself from being dragged down by a frantic victim of
cramps. He must also know the best way to resuscitate a person who has
apparently been drowned. When a young fellow can pass this strict
examination with flying colors he receives a certificate from headquarters,
and is entitled to wear the official badge.”
“And that whistle which you have just given three times, calling the
boys up out of the water—does that stand for anything in particular?” asked
the minister, as the entire party hurried to their tents to rub down and dress.
“Yes, indeed, sir,” he was told. “That is the emergency whistle when we
are in camp. Whenever it is sounded every life-saver runs for the shore,
ready for business. It is on this account that scores of big camps are held