Glenn Puit - Father of the Year
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Father of the Year: summary, description and annotation
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Everybody in Las Vegas knew Bill Rundle. A story by his son Richie earned the former casino guard the title Las Vegass Father of the Yeara bittersweet honor in light of Richies tragic death at age eleven. He was killed by a drunk driver while waiting for the school bus, but not before saving the life of another child. The story of his courageous act made Richie a high-profile local hero, and the entire city mourned with Bill and his wife, Shirley.
Fifteen years later, the couple vanished from their Vegas home. Authorities were at a lossuntil they found Shirleys corpse and learned that Bills mother was missing as well.
The trail led to a Bill Rundle no one knewa manipulative con man, professional thug, and savage killer whose crimes reached back through the decades. A man whose cold-blooded lies exposed the real, and terrifying, face of the Father of the Year.
Fifteen years later, the couple vanished from their Vegas home. Authorities were at a lossuntil they found Shirleys corpse and learned that Bills mother was missing as well.
The trail led to a Bill Rundle no one knewa manipulative con man, professional thug, and savage killer whose crimes reached back through the decades. A man whose cold-blooded lies exposed the real, and terrifying, face of the Father of the Year.
Glenn Puit: author's other books
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Table of Contents
Berkley Titles by Glenn Puit
WITCH:
THE TRUE STORY OF LAS VEGASS MOST
NOTORIOUS FEMALE KILLER
THE TRUE STORY OF LAS VEGASS MOST
NOTORIOUS FEMALE KILLER
FATHER OF THE YEAR:
BILL RUNDLE: ALL-AMERICAN JEKYLL AND HYDE
BILL RUNDLE: ALL-AMERICAN JEKYLL AND HYDE
This book is dedicated to the memory of Layne Staley
INTRODUCTION
I first came into contact with Bill Rundle and his murder case in 2002 as a reporter for the Las Vegas Review-Journal newspaper. I spent fourteen years in the news business and covering crime for Nevadas largest newspaper. While the experience made me jaded about violent criminals, I must admit I was fascinated with Rundle during his murder trial. He did not seem like other hardened, violent criminals. He sniffled in a tissue in front of a jury. He appeared kind and courteous. It bothered me to think of him that way, though, because I knew what Rundle was: a notorious con man and cold-blooded killer, suspected of two murders, a man against whom the authorities were seeking the death penalty.
I concluded later that this was what Bill Rundle does. Its his MO. He cons people into liking him. He could con you even when you knew he was a killer. He wants everyone around him, including a jury, to think of him as just some average guy who somehow, some way, ended up in the middle of a horrific murder case, due to fate and circumstances beyond his control.
I met with Bill Rundle in 2006, and interviewed him extensively. It was one of the most interesting interviews Ive ever conducted, because Rundle didnt hold back. He talked extensively about the death of his wife, Shirley; and the disappearance of his mother, Willa; and his life as a con man. He told one hell of a story, and when I was done with the interview, Id confirmed my initial suspicions of Rundle: Hes an extremely rare person. He has an ability to lie and deceive that is far beyond your average con mans. The man is a cold-blooded killer, and yet his social skills are so advanced that he can look you in the face and make you feel like hes an okay guy.
The facts of this book were gathered through interviews and public record materials, including trial transcripts, grand jury transcripts, police reports, and police actions. There were some people involved in this case who declined my requests for an interview. I respect their decision to do so. In those instances, as allowed for under the First Amendment and Nevadas open records laws, I used their comments to law enforcement and in trial proceedings to provide an account of their experiences with Rundle.
Youll note as well that this book is dedicated to the memory of Layne Staley, whose incredible musical talents changed my life. If you are struggling with addictions or severe setbacks in life, stay strong and keep the faith in yourself. I know you can make it. If you would like more information on how you can help people struggling with heroin addiction, please visit www.laynestaleyfund.com.
Finally, I want to thank you for reading my books.
Glenn
1... VANISHED
For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness.
Ephesians 6:12
On August 19, 2002, part-time Las Vegas housekeeper Janet Bertrand was pet-sitting at the home of a friend, Mary Truedsdale, in southwest Las Vegas, when Bertrand noticed something unusual across the road on Poppywood Drive.
The large, stucco home belonged to Bill and Shirley Rundle, and the couples garage door was open.
Bertrand is a pretty woman who, in addition to housekeeping, at times brought in an income pet-sitting and watching homes for those on vacation from the Las Vegas neighborhood near Tropicana Avenue and Buffalo Drive. Its a nice area, just down the road from big-money homes in the exclusive, gated community of Spanish Trails. The neighborhood on Poppywood Drive is one of big stucco structures, desert-and-grass landscaping, scattered skimpy trees in the front yards, sport utility vehicles in the driveways, and the brown mountains of the Mojave Desert in the distance.
Bertrand had previously worked at the Rundles home across the street, and when she saw the garage door open, she sensed there might be something wrong.
The Rundles never left their garage door open.
It just didnt look right, Janet said. They never leave the garage door open, even when they go to the mailbox.
Bertrand knew that the Rundles were former casino workers: Bill Rundle had been a security guard at the downtown Union Plaza casino and later at the King 8 casino, then a small-time gaming joint off Interstate 15, and Shirley Rundle had worked at the Union Plaza, the Stardust, the Hacienda, and the Luxor. The Rundles told neighbors theyd retired from the casino business and started a PostNet postal business in the upscale Las Vegas shopping center on West Charleston Boulevard.
They seemed like a normal couple.
The Rundles huge, new, three-thousand-square-foot house was a short drive down Tropicana Avenue to the Orleans casino, some low-rent weeklies, and second-rate gaming properties leading to the big names of the Stripthe MGM, the Luxor, and the Mandalay Bay to the southeast. It was a nice neighborhood in a big city, and it attracted some very decent people. David and Mary Truedsdale had moved into their house across the street around the same time as the Rundles in 1996.
Bill Rundle, fifty-seven, was a big, gray-haired man who could have easily passed for a typical Vegas retiree. He was tall, with a long but deep face, a modest roll around his waist, and he often wore shorts and a short-sleeve shirt on his aging but still large six-foot-four frame. He also wore very thick, rather dorky glasses on his sagging face, and often a baseball cap.
Bill Rundle had a good personality. He was funny, witty, and easy to talk to, although when Rundle was at home, he spent most of his time sitting in his living room in a creased leather chair watching sports on television and worshipping his gambling tickets.
Bills wife, Shirley Rundle, was a sixty-three-year-old Filipino immigrant who was, by all accounts, sweet, pretty, and very nice. She had jet-black hair and was five feet four inches tall. She was a dignified woman, and those who knew her said her nature was as soft as a butterflys flight. She wore colorful clothes, and she, too, wore big glasses.
Shirley Rundle kept a meticulous house. The kitchen in the home on Poppywood Drive was spotless. The furniture in the residence was high-end and dust-free. There were never any clothes or magazines strewn about. There was nice art on the wall, and there were throw rugs in the living room. Shirley had a specific place for each and every one of those throw rugs.
Janet Bertrand was particularly fond of Shirley Rundle, whom she considered to be a very kindhearted soul. And she knew that the Rundles had endured a terrible tragedy nearly two decades earlier when Bill Rundles little boy from a prior marriage, Richie Rundle, had been killed by a drunk driver. Since that day, the Rundles had kept a shrine to the dead child in an upstairs room of their home.
A glass cabinet with a lot of memorabilia and certificates and stuff, Bertrand said of the shrine to the child.
Neighbors and friends unfailingly described Shirley Rundle as a quality individual, a soft, loving woman who cared very deeply for her family. She was from a very large family in the Philippines, and she loved each of her brothers and sisters dearly. She regularly kept in touch with her relatives in the Philippines by phone even though she was more than 7,300 miles away from them. She cooked a Filipino dinner for one of her neighbors on a special occasion.
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