Read Online TRACE EVIDENCE: The Hunt for the I-5 Serial Killer by Bruce Henderson - Free Book Online
Authors: Bruce Henderson
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higher priority than the investigation into her murder. She deserved better.
“Sure,” Bertocchini said, standing. He suddenly wanted to be upwind as far as possible.
Back at his desk, Bertocchini phoned the south Sacramento field office of theCalifornia Highway Patrol, intending to leave a message for the officer who had tagged Stephanie’s car at 9:40 A.M. on July 15. As it happened, the officer’s shift had just ended and he was in the office, so he soon came on the line.
Bertocchini explained his interest in the abandonedDodge Colt that the officer had recently tagged at Hood Franklin.
The CHP officer,Joseph Payne, remembered the abandoned vehicle. He explained that his shift started at 5:45 A.M. and that the first time he had driven by the location that morning was when he had tagged the car.
Bertocchini asked whether the officer had noticed if the keys had been in the car.
“They weren’t in the ignition.”
“What about a purse or wallet?”
“I didn’t see one.”
“Did you notice if the headlights were on?”
“There were no outside lights on.”
By then—five hours or so after Stephanie had been abducted—the battery was no doubt already drained.
“I did notice a map on the ground.”
That was something new. “Where?”
“At the rear of the car,” said Officer Payne. “It was kinda crumbled up. Made me think that someone must have been lost.”
“Did you pick it up?”
“I left it.”
No map had been found at the location, but Bertocchini recalled how windy it was out there.
“See anything else?” he asked the patrolman.
“No, nothing. I tagged the vehicle and left.”
Bertocchini and Rosenquist went back to theHood Franklin exit. They meticulously searched both sides of the highway this time, eventually finding a crumbled map about a quarter of a mile away. It was a Mobil road map of California, folded open to the Sacramento area.
On July 19, Bertocchini and Rosenquist were invited guests at Stephanie’s big Catholic funeral. It wasn’t uncommon for a murderer to show keen interest in a victim’s funeral or grave. In one case, a killer had visited the grave site of a victim on the anniversary of her murder and incriminated himself into a recording device hidden by police near the headstone. Now, the two detectives doggedly took down the license numbers of all 123 vehicles present.
Afterward, they hung back in the church, not going forward to visit the open casket as the mourners did following the services. The detectives had already spent their time with Stephanie. It was time now for her family and friends to say good-bye.
A few days later, Jo-AllynBrown called Bertocchini and asked for directions to the crime scene, explaining that she and her husband wanted to see where their daughter had been found. “We just want to be in the last place she was. Somehow, we think it will help.”
“Please don’t go by yourselves,” cautioned Bertocchini, who could only imagine how difficult the trip would be for the bereaved parents. “If you’ll give me a couple of days, I’ll take you myself.”
That Saturday, he took theBrowns where they wanted to go. They drove the route from where Stephanie’s car was found on I-5 to the ditch off Highway 12. Her mother commented ominously on what a long ride it was. “I hope she was already unconscious,” added Stephanie’s father.
Bertocchini hadn’t the heart to tell them.
T HE WEEK after Stephanie’s murder, the detectives were ready to turn over her Dodge Colt to her parents. The entire vehicle had been dusted inside and out for latent fingerprints. Unfortunately, the only ones found belonged to Stephanie.
Rosenquist drove the Colt, with Bertocchini following. At one point, Bertocchini had to stop for gas, but Stephanie’s car had plenty.
They had found in the car a credit slip for a Sacramento Union 76 station. It was dated the night of Stephanie’s disappearance. The next day, they measured the distance from the
“Sure,” Bertocchini said, standing. He suddenly wanted to be upwind as far as possible.
Back at his desk, Bertocchini phoned the south Sacramento field office of theCalifornia Highway Patrol, intending to leave a message for the officer who had tagged Stephanie’s car at 9:40 A.M. on July 15. As it happened, the officer’s shift had just ended and he was in the office, so he soon came on the line.
Bertocchini explained his interest in the abandonedDodge Colt that the officer had recently tagged at Hood Franklin.
The CHP officer,Joseph Payne, remembered the abandoned vehicle. He explained that his shift started at 5:45 A.M. and that the first time he had driven by the location that morning was when he had tagged the car.
Bertocchini asked whether the officer had noticed if the keys had been in the car.
“They weren’t in the ignition.”
“What about a purse or wallet?”
“I didn’t see one.”
“Did you notice if the headlights were on?”
“There were no outside lights on.”
By then—five hours or so after Stephanie had been abducted—the battery was no doubt already drained.
“I did notice a map on the ground.”
That was something new. “Where?”
“At the rear of the car,” said Officer Payne. “It was kinda crumbled up. Made me think that someone must have been lost.”
“Did you pick it up?”
“I left it.”
No map had been found at the location, but Bertocchini recalled how windy it was out there.
“See anything else?” he asked the patrolman.
“No, nothing. I tagged the vehicle and left.”
Bertocchini and Rosenquist went back to theHood Franklin exit. They meticulously searched both sides of the highway this time, eventually finding a crumbled map about a quarter of a mile away. It was a Mobil road map of California, folded open to the Sacramento area.
On July 19, Bertocchini and Rosenquist were invited guests at Stephanie’s big Catholic funeral. It wasn’t uncommon for a murderer to show keen interest in a victim’s funeral or grave. In one case, a killer had visited the grave site of a victim on the anniversary of her murder and incriminated himself into a recording device hidden by police near the headstone. Now, the two detectives doggedly took down the license numbers of all 123 vehicles present.
Afterward, they hung back in the church, not going forward to visit the open casket as the mourners did following the services. The detectives had already spent their time with Stephanie. It was time now for her family and friends to say good-bye.
A few days later, Jo-AllynBrown called Bertocchini and asked for directions to the crime scene, explaining that she and her husband wanted to see where their daughter had been found. “We just want to be in the last place she was. Somehow, we think it will help.”
“Please don’t go by yourselves,” cautioned Bertocchini, who could only imagine how difficult the trip would be for the bereaved parents. “If you’ll give me a couple of days, I’ll take you myself.”
That Saturday, he took theBrowns where they wanted to go. They drove the route from where Stephanie’s car was found on I-5 to the ditch off Highway 12. Her mother commented ominously on what a long ride it was. “I hope she was already unconscious,” added Stephanie’s father.
Bertocchini hadn’t the heart to tell them.
T HE WEEK after Stephanie’s murder, the detectives were ready to turn over her Dodge Colt to her parents. The entire vehicle had been dusted inside and out for latent fingerprints. Unfortunately, the only ones found belonged to Stephanie.
Rosenquist drove the Colt, with Bertocchini following. At one point, Bertocchini had to stop for gas, but Stephanie’s car had plenty.
They had found in the car a credit slip for a Sacramento Union 76 station. It was dated the night of Stephanie’s disappearance. The next day, they measured the distance from the
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