Read Online Behind the Yellow Tape: On the Road With Some of America's Hardest Working Crime Scene Investigators by Jarrett Hallcox, Amy Welch - Free Book Online
Authors: Jarrett Hallcox, Amy Welch
Tags: General, True Crime
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Patricia Volpenhein’s killer might never have been found.
Snow and Volpenhein’s relationship had been borne out of necessity—she needed heroin, which Snow willingly paid for; he needed sex, which she gave in exchange for the drugs. So they worked out a barter. But it’s hard to have a monogamous relationship when you are an addict in constant need of that next high. Unfortunately, John Snow was a very disturbed and jealous person, and when Patricia failed to call him back one day, he decided then and there that he would kill her.
The next day, Volpenhein made the call that she had promised the day before, wanting what she always wanted—more heroin. And Snow obliged, driving her over into Cincinnati, a growing hotbed for heroin ever since the feds had tightened the drug laws for possession of crack. Once she got her fix, they headed to a field for what Volpenhein thought would be her sexual payment for the heroin. Little did she know that it was a place Snow had considered, from the moment he’d seen it years earlier, “a good place to whack somebody.” They drove up to the secluded spot and parked the truck. At some point when the two of them had left the vehicle, he casually shot her in the head, and when she went down—“flipping,” as he put it—he shot her again in the left temple. “She kept snoring,” Snow told the detectives, agitated. Her “snoring” was actually her agonized breathing. She was still clinging to life, despite being fatally wounded by two bullets to the brain. It was clear from watching the interview that the “snoring” had driven Snow crazy; he rocked back and forth as he talked about it. He’d then pulled a cheap knife from his pocket and tried to slice her throat lengthwise like cutting an Easter ham, but the knife was too dull to penetrate the skin deeply enough to finish the job. Instead, he turned to brutally stabbing her several times in the throat. Yet she continued to breathe and “snore.”
Feeling that he’d wasted too much time on killing Volpenhein, Snow crawled on the ground, looking for those damn shell casings that he would never find. Panicked, he decided that he couldn’t take the chance of those shell casings being found with his fingerprints all over them, so he had to get her body out of that field. His mind raced. In a manic frenzy, he went on a shopping spree, buying plastic tarps, clothes, gloves—all in preparation for disposing of Volpenhein’s body. Little did he realize that his actions created more evidence, tying the murder to him.
After purchasing the items he thought he would need, Snow waited for darkness to fall before he went back to the field to retrieve Volpenhein’s body. When he arrived, Volpenhein had finally ceased breathing, and he began to carry out his ill-fated plan. He wrapped her in both of the tarps and struggled to get her into the bed of his truck. Once that was complete, he headed down River Road to the mighty Ohio. “I wanted to throw her in the river,” Snow told the detectives. The Ohio River has long been a repository for many a perp’s victims, harking back to the days when the mob influenced the area. But “I couldn’t find a spot on River Road,” Snow lamented. Fishermen dotted the banks at various intervals along the river, so he couldn’t find a safe spot to stop his truck and dump the body. Frustrated, Snow gave up on his original plan and kept driving in the darkness. And then another fear overwhelmed him. He remembered he had a taillight out. He began to panic even more as he rounded the bend on River Road, which connects Kenton County to Boone County. When his headlights hit the “Entering Boone County” sign, his heart sank. He knew he was in trouble. So he pulled over immediately, swerving to the left into an open field. He jumped out of his truck, ripped down his tailgate, and pulled Volpenhein’s body onto the ground. Having been so afraid of leaving his fingerprints on the shell casings, he
Snow and Volpenhein’s relationship had been borne out of necessity—she needed heroin, which Snow willingly paid for; he needed sex, which she gave in exchange for the drugs. So they worked out a barter. But it’s hard to have a monogamous relationship when you are an addict in constant need of that next high. Unfortunately, John Snow was a very disturbed and jealous person, and when Patricia failed to call him back one day, he decided then and there that he would kill her.
The next day, Volpenhein made the call that she had promised the day before, wanting what she always wanted—more heroin. And Snow obliged, driving her over into Cincinnati, a growing hotbed for heroin ever since the feds had tightened the drug laws for possession of crack. Once she got her fix, they headed to a field for what Volpenhein thought would be her sexual payment for the heroin. Little did she know that it was a place Snow had considered, from the moment he’d seen it years earlier, “a good place to whack somebody.” They drove up to the secluded spot and parked the truck. At some point when the two of them had left the vehicle, he casually shot her in the head, and when she went down—“flipping,” as he put it—he shot her again in the left temple. “She kept snoring,” Snow told the detectives, agitated. Her “snoring” was actually her agonized breathing. She was still clinging to life, despite being fatally wounded by two bullets to the brain. It was clear from watching the interview that the “snoring” had driven Snow crazy; he rocked back and forth as he talked about it. He’d then pulled a cheap knife from his pocket and tried to slice her throat lengthwise like cutting an Easter ham, but the knife was too dull to penetrate the skin deeply enough to finish the job. Instead, he turned to brutally stabbing her several times in the throat. Yet she continued to breathe and “snore.”
Feeling that he’d wasted too much time on killing Volpenhein, Snow crawled on the ground, looking for those damn shell casings that he would never find. Panicked, he decided that he couldn’t take the chance of those shell casings being found with his fingerprints all over them, so he had to get her body out of that field. His mind raced. In a manic frenzy, he went on a shopping spree, buying plastic tarps, clothes, gloves—all in preparation for disposing of Volpenhein’s body. Little did he realize that his actions created more evidence, tying the murder to him.
After purchasing the items he thought he would need, Snow waited for darkness to fall before he went back to the field to retrieve Volpenhein’s body. When he arrived, Volpenhein had finally ceased breathing, and he began to carry out his ill-fated plan. He wrapped her in both of the tarps and struggled to get her into the bed of his truck. Once that was complete, he headed down River Road to the mighty Ohio. “I wanted to throw her in the river,” Snow told the detectives. The Ohio River has long been a repository for many a perp’s victims, harking back to the days when the mob influenced the area. But “I couldn’t find a spot on River Road,” Snow lamented. Fishermen dotted the banks at various intervals along the river, so he couldn’t find a safe spot to stop his truck and dump the body. Frustrated, Snow gave up on his original plan and kept driving in the darkness. And then another fear overwhelmed him. He remembered he had a taillight out. He began to panic even more as he rounded the bend on River Road, which connects Kenton County to Boone County. When his headlights hit the “Entering Boone County” sign, his heart sank. He knew he was in trouble. So he pulled over immediately, swerving to the left into an open field. He jumped out of his truck, ripped down his tailgate, and pulled Volpenhein’s body onto the ground. Having been so afraid of leaving his fingerprints on the shell casings, he
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