Gloria Killian - Full Circle: A True Story of Murder, Lies, and Vindication

Full Circle

Full Circle

A True Story of
Murder, Lies and Vindication

Gloria Killian and Sandra Kobrin

New Horizon Press
Far Hills, New Jersey

Copyright 2012 by Gloria Killian and Sandra Kobrin

All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form whatsoever, including electronic, mechanical or any information storage or retrieval system, except as may be expressly permitted in the 1976 Copyright Act or in writing from the publisher. Requests for permission should be addressed to:

New Horizon Press

P.O. Box 669

Far Hills, NJ 07931

Killian, Gloria and Kobrin, Sandra
Full Circle: A True Story of Murder, Lies and Vindication

Cover design: Wendy Bass
Interior design: Susan Sanderson

Library of Congress Control Number: 2011928841

ISBN-13 (eBook): 978-0-88282-403-1
New Horizon Press

Manufactured in the U.S.A.

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Authors Note

T his book is based on the experiences of the authors and reflects their perceptions of the past, present and future. The personalities, events, actions and conversations portrayed within this story have been taken from interviews, research, court documents, letters, personal papers, press accounts and the memories of some participants.

In an effort to safeguard the privacy of certain people, some individuals names and identifying characteristics have been changed. Some characters may be composites. Events involving the characters happened as described. Only minor details may have been altered.

Dedication

This book is dedicated to the victims of injustice
and to the women who suffer behind bars.

Contents

E d Davies stepped out of his sports car and ambled toward the supermarket in the leafy Rosemont suburb of Sacramento.

Its him! Stephen DeSantis yelled to his partner, Gary Masse. The thirty-two-year-old first cousins had been following the coin collector and casing his house for the past month. Now they sat in the supermarket parking lot in a telephone repair truck DeSantis had stolen, drinking coffee, listening to heavy metal music and waiting for Davies to come out of the store. When he did, they put their plan into action. DeSantis changed into his telephone repairman attire, shoving his new .22 down the front of his pants. Masse started the truck and drove to the parking lot exit. It was time.

DeSantis was wired on caffeine. He needed the intense energy to keep him focused and moving forward. Next to him in the front seat of the stolen repair truck, his partner and cousin Gary Masse popped another tranquilizer. He was out of heroin, highly nervous and couldnt function without the pills.

Masse drove them to Davies house, parking on the street in front of the home.

Around 2:00 P.M., in broad daylight, DeSantis walked up the couples flower-lined walkway and knocked on the front door. Ed was in the kitchen with his wife Grace, who was fixing lunch. Grace went to the door.

Hello, maam, said DeSantis, smiling broadly at the petite, grey-haired woman. Im from the phone company. Weve gotten reports youve had trouble on the line. May I come in?

He was smiling and earnest.

Well, I dont know, Grace Davies said. She was hesitant to let a stranger into her house. They were not expecting a repairman.

DeSantis pressed. Weve gotten reports

Oh, thats right. Mrs. Davies remembered her friend had said she had trouble getting through to Grace on the phone earlier that day. And the repairman wasnt a particularly threatening-looking individual. He was short, barely five feet four inches, and his face was calm, with sad eyes, dark hair and a drooping mustache.

Come on in, Mrs. Davies said, opening the front door wide and leading him to the kitchen where their telephone was located.

Exactly the way DeSantis had planned it.

DeSantis smile disappeared as he pulled his gun on the woman and her husband, who was sitting at the kitchen table. His face tightened into focused anger.

Get down on the floor! he barked at the couple, shoving them down. He placed them facedown, pulled handcuffs out of his pocket and grabbed a rope from his belt.

Youre hurting me! Grace Davies cried out in pain as he tightened the knots to hog-tie her feet.

Shut up! DeSantis screamed. He knew he had to be a badass and scare the couple quickly. The faster he put fear into them, the quicker they would give up the whereabouts of the loot. After securing their hands and feet, he hog-tied them together and threw dishtowels over their heads so they couldnt see.

A whimpering Mrs. Davies shook off the dishtowel, lifted her head up and looked with frightened and pleading eyes at DeSantis. It only made him angrier. He didnt like being stared at. The last thing he wanted was to be identified. Im going to shoot you! DeSantis yelled at her. He raced into the living room, grabbed a throw from the sofa, rushed back and tossed the heavy blanket over both Graces and Eds heads.

He ripped the phone out of the wall and pulled down shades and closed curtains all around the house as the couple writhed on the kitchen floor.

Outside in the truck, Masse was getting nervous. Almost half an hour had passed and DeSantis hadnt come out to get him. Masses drug addiction had given him an enormous tolerance and even seven or eight tranquilizers didnt calm him anymore. He popped another pill and decided not to wait any longer. He put on a white hard hat, walked up to the door and rang the bell. DeSantis ran to answer the door.

What, um, whats going on? Masse asked.

Everything is under control. You get rid of the truck. Ill work on them, DeSantis told him. Masse nodded, happy that things were going as planned.

Inside the house, the couple wriggled on the floor, whispering to each other for the few moments DeSantis was gone.

Grace, are you okay? Ed Davies asked his whimpering wife.

My wrists hurt, his wife said. She was trying not to cry. She was concentrating on the pain in her hands, trying to think it away.

Just give them what they want, Ed, and theyll leave, she whined.

Try and be calm, Davies told her firmly. Ill take care of things.

Please, she pleaded.

DeSantis walked back into the kitchen as Masse drove the truck a few blocks away, parked it and raced back to the house. DeSantis ransacked the house, rifled through the kitchen drawers and eventually found a huge knife. Masse returned and the two criminals stood over the frightened couple. Time was of the essence. They had been there for over an hour, had scoured the house and still had no idea where the gold and silver they were told Davies had was hidden. DeSantis wielded the knife, took the blanket off the couple on the floor and circled them, barking orders at Ed Davies.

Tell me where the gold and silver is or Ill kill you! he yelled.

I dont have anything here. Its all at Virgils store, Davies replied.

DeSantis didnt have a clue who Virgil was, but Masse knew Davies was talking about Virgil Fletcher, the owner of a coin and pawn shop in downtown Sacramento. Masse liked coins and had been in the store once or twice.

No way. We know its here, Masse said from behind the couple. Weve been watching you.

Its not here. Its at the coin store, Davies repeated. I swear.

Youre lying, DeSantis said. He grabbed Grace Davies and placed the knifes blade to her throat. Ill slit your wifes throat if you dont tell me the truth.

Ed Davies flinched when he saw the guy manhandle his wife. His eyes filled with tears.

The garage, he cried, breaking down. Theyre in the garage. Davies told Masse and DeSantis the exact location of seven safes, some hidden behind a workbench, others buried under two-by-fours in the garage floor.

DeSantis threw the woman down to the floor as her husband breathed a sigh of relief.