Table of Contents
INTRODUCTION
I HAVE BEEN INTERVIEWING AND CORRESPONDING with serial killers for more than 20 years. This exceedingly strange occupation started with a 12-part series of TV documentaries, for which I was researcher and interviewer. British publisher John Blake persuaded me to develop the televised material into a pair of books, which Ulysses Press in Berkeley, California, later consolidated into Serial Killers: Up Close and Personal (2007).
I am pleased to report that these previous books became international bestsellers, translated into many languages, and are still popular today on both sides of the Atlantic. They are now required reading for students at the Behavioral Science Unit of the Federal Bureau of Investigation Academy in Quantico, Virginia.
In all of these books, the concept was to tell stories in the killers own words as much as possible, for while their vile crimes may be well-known, thanks to lurid reports broadcast throughout the world by the news media, it is only through their own perceptions that we may hope to understand the motives of such monsters in human guise. And so it was through interrogations, court transcripts, personal correspondence, and face-to-face interviews that such notorious fiends as Killer Clown John Wayne Gacy, Monster Aileen Wuornos, and Amityville Horror Ronald Joseph DeFeo Jr. became parts of my lifebefore they were executed by various state departments of corrections.
Somewhere along the way, I realized that I had interviewed more serial killers than any other journalist on the planet.
Month after month, year in, year out, I receive e-mail from students and professionals interested in criminology. Many of their questions are about serial killers, particularly, In your opinion, Christopher, what makes them tick? Honestly, if I knew the empirical answer to that question, I would also be clever enough to be able to get fingerprints from running water. But I dont, and I cant.
Of course, there are legions of psychiatrists and psychologists who do claim to be able to answer this question. Unfortunately, most of these experts have never met a serial killer in the flesh, let alone spent years corresponding with such a person. Those who think they know what makes a serial killer tick in reality do not. I do not. And of course, you, dear reader, could never conceive of committing such terrible acts on a fellow human being, so you cannot know either. The only ones who do know are the killers themselvessometimes.
So, throughout this book, in their own words, the killers will tell you, either consciously or subconsciously, exactly what made them what they are. We might be able to conclude that what these monsters think and say today must be more or less the same as what they thought when committing their crimes.
This book stands out from my other works on the subject in that, for only the third time in my career, I advocate for the innocence of a wrongly convicted man: Frederick L. Waterfield. I will allow you to form your own conclusions about Fred, balancing his story and the hard facts presented in his favor against correspondence from his diabolical cousin, the sadistic, self-confessed cannibal aptly named David Alan Gore. In these pages, Gore admits for the first time how he strung up several of his victims like deer and cut em, raped em, then gutted them while they were still alive. Then he framed Fred, who is presently serving life in a California penitentiary.
Another chapter in this book concerns a very unusual predator indeed. Dubbed by the media The Remorseful Serial Killer, Wayne Adam Fords life story is, as he would say, as tragic as the suffering he caused to the prostitutes he killed and butchered. Yet he walked into a police station carrying a severed womans breast in his pocket and gave himself up. For the first time, Wayne confesses all from death row.
The religious, morally salted butter Robert Joe Long eats wouldnt melt in his mouth, or so he would have the world believe. But this book lays bare the sexually perverted mind of Bobby Long today. His shocking correspondence reveals the true nature of a deviant serial murderer who killed eight womenand allowed one kidnapped woman to go free, an action that predictably led to his arrest and current residency on Floridas death row.
Gary Ray Bowles is a hustler and serial killer of six homosexuals. Candid, often smiling impudently, Bowles tells his life story from the cradle to his grim Florida penitentiary cell just a short walk from his place of expected execution.
Serial killers, both men and women (along with a few of confused gender), represent social monstrosities of the most terrifying variety. We may view them as some kind of beastly, homicidal objets dart, but to those who fall afoul of them in lonely places far from the prying eye, they are human predators, often cannibals in a figurative and even a literal sense, uniquely subversive to societys carefully constructed behavioral tenets.
They frighten us because they are part uspart monster, yet humanoid in form. They are without the social conscience that, for many, defines humanity. They are morally dead. But they capture public attention because they terrify the neighborhoods in which they troll and prey on victims. They elicit a sort of through-the-peephole curiosity, their behavior so gruesome that the media and motion picture industries feed off their crimes with the same gluttonous ferocity as vultures feeding from carrionour beloved dead. These murderers personify the human capacity for evil, for they are the stuff of our worst Hannibal Lecter, Norman Bates, Freddy Krueger, Leatherface fears. Stories like theirs put butts on seats in movie theaters around the world.
This book gets up close and personal, very close indeed. Nightmares, anyone?
CHAPTER 1
GARY RAY BOWLESGAY AND YOU ARE DEAD!
I had sex with thousands of men for money, probably at least 50 women for money, and I probably had sex with at least 100 women on my own. I had a lot of fun, but I also ended up spending over half of my life in prison.
GARY RAY BOWLES, IN A LETTER TO THE AUTHOR, SEPTEMBER 30, 2009
Mere words cannot even begin to depict the brutal murders committed by Gary Bowles. The killer wasnt just cooking on gas; he was cooking on avgas injected with nitro. The crime scenes were blood baths.
the author, after viewing many of the crime scene photographs
GARY BOWLES WAS BORN JANUARY 25, 1962, in Clifton Gorge Hospital, West Virginia. He was the second son of a miner, William Bill Franklin Bowles, whose wife was 16-year-old Frances Carole Price. Bill died of black lung disease on July 22, 1961, while Gary was still in his mothers womb. Garys older brother, William Franklin Jr., had come into this world on February 2, 1960.
Not one to let the grass grow under her feet, Frances, an alcoholic, quickly moved 50 miles west to the village of Rupert (pop. 940). Here, she fell in with one William Bill Otto Fields, who, according to her, was a fine-looking man, with a good physiquesix feet tall and weighing around 210 pounds. The couple then moved to Kankakee, Illinois, where they married and raised the boys. Frances had two more children, Pamela and David. Up until he was the age of six, Gary and his brother believed that Bill Fields was their true fatheruntil they paid a visit to their dying grandmother, who told them,... boys, he aint!