Berry-Dee - Talking with Serial Killers: the Most Evil People in the World Tell Their Own Stories

CHRISTOPHER BERRY-DEE

Lest we not forget the suffering these beasts of humanity
cause, this book is dedicated In Memoriam to:

Leanna Williams (died 23 August 1994)

Now on Death Row, Ellis Unit, Texas, Santiago Margarito Rangel Varelas (#999159) is a revolting human monster even when viewed alongside the rebarbative exploits of other killers of our children. His victim was Leanna Williams, his two-year-old stepdaughter. Varelas had been married to Leannas mother for less than four months when the child died. But during that short time he had carried out an unrelenting barrage of violence and sexual abuse on the infant; the violence alone would have been enough to kill a healthy adult, and this started almost immediately after the wedding.

Leanna died of multiple brain haemorrhages after repeated kicks to the head. Most of her ribs were broken and she had been sodomised. Varelas told police that the child had fallen inside their home at 4415 2nd Street in Bacliff, Texas. However, it is even almost as repugnant and difficult to believe that Leannas mother told sickened investigators that she was unaware of what was going on, especially since Varelas was also indicted on charges of indecency involving Leannas sisters aged five and nine.

A s Professor Elliott Leyton, the worlds most widely consulted expert on serial killing, and former FBI Special Agent, Robert Ressler, the worlds most renowned offender profiler, both agree, that unless you are a police officer or a psychiatrist, both of whom have unique access to the penal system, it is almost impossible to gain access to interview a single serial murderer, let alone two such creatures. I have interviewed, at length, over thirty.

Apart from the financial outlay, which may cost many thousands of dollars, only for the offender to change his or her mind at the last minute as you arrive at the prison gate, one has to build up a relationship with a killer over many years of correspondence before they begin to trust you. But, this is only a fraction of the work involved.

Even to begin to understand the subject under study, one has to research their history back to birth. Meet with their parents, relations, friends, schoolteachers, work colleagues, the victims next-of-kin, the police, attorneys, judges, psychiatrists and psychologists, even the correctional staff who are charged with their welfare while in custody, often on Death Row. Then, like the razor wire that forms an impenetrable barrier around the prisons, one has to negotiate a way through the red tape that wraps up our killers. Without the permission of the Department of Corrections, you go nowhere. Only when each of the above has been tick-boxed do you get to meet them the most dangerous human predators on Earth.

As Sondra London says in her excellent book Knockin on Joe, Getting involved with these people is a dangerous matter, because when you concentrate deeply on any personality for an extended time, you find yourself drawn into their world And while you are in their cages studying them, they are studying you.

I have often had cause to contemplate the words of Friedrich Nietzsche: Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And when you look into the abyss, the abyss also looks into you.

Non-fiction is not possible without a collective effort by many people, and the study of violent crime on a first-hand basis can be, at once, rewarding, exciting and distressing. But at the end of the road, the time comes to reflect on that journey and to remember all those individuals and organisations who, in their various capacities, helped to make this book possible and, hopefully, worthwhile.

Many of their names already appear in the main text. Others do not, but they were equally important in the development, research and writing of Talking with Evil.

I would particularly like to thank, where appropriate, the victims next-of-kin. The killers featured in this book have taken their revenge on society and there is no adequate measure for the agony they have wrought. Death is tangible, grief less so. Yet, despite the tragic losses of loved ones, those left behind have shown compassion for the killers of their children. Without their help, without their anguish, without their indelible pain, this book could not have struck the emotional balance it is hoped it has achieved.

I also thank the many Departments of Corrections for allowing unrestricted access to their penal systems and the offenders who were interviewed. Numerous law enforcement officers, attorneys and judges who have honourably discharged their professional duties, not only in bringing the offenders to justice, but in assisting, where they could, in the detailed research for this book. And, strange as this may seem, thanks are also due to the serial killers and mass murderers who allowed me into their dark worlds, for if society is to learn anything about how these beasts tick, we must, however abhorrent it may seem, listen to their words, their truths and lies.

As always, I am indebted to my close friend, Robin Odell. A superb writer and editor in any event, Robin knows this subject better than most. He has taken much of my raw manuscript, and polished it into the completed work sitting before you now.

For their personal support, perhaps now is the moment to thank a few of those who were patient enough to listen to my thoughts on serial homicide for months on end. Therefore, I extend much gratitude to my father and mother, Patrick and May. Great friends, Jackie Clay, Graham Williams, David Elvis Murphy, Ace Francis, Bob Noyce, Phil Simpson, Barbara Pearman, and Tony Brown, who kept my spirits up when they were low. My television producer, Frazer Ashford, and my staff at The New Criminologist. Colleagues, Elliott Leyton (Professor of Anthropology, Memorial University of Newfoundland, who will be as critical as always and is bound to argue the toss about XYY chromosome disorder; and David Canter (Professor of Applied Psychology). Also thanks to Adam Parfitt and John Blake of Blake Publishing, who were brave enough to publish this book.

Finally, a very special thanks with much love to my special PJ, because it did work out all right for you in the end, and I will always miss your company, and Alyona Minenok from Novosibirsk, Russia. The late night talks with you helped me immensely.

Christopher Berry-Dee

Director Criminology Research Centre

Southsea 2003

The guys the fuckin Devil. They should have fried him years ago, period, an they would have queued up to pull the switch. When he was dead, they should have driven a stake through his heart and buried him, digging him up a week later to ram another stake in, just to make sure he was fuckin dead.

RUSSELL J KRUGER
CHIEF INVESTIGATOR, MINNEAPOLIS PD

I t was 24 September 1974 and early morning in Minneapolis. The sun was up and patrolmen Robert Nelson and Robert Thompson were cruising along 1841 E 38th Street when they spotted the 1968 black-over-pea-green Chevrolet Caprice. It was parked across the road from a diner. Thompson made a slow circuit of the block, while his partner checked the police bulletin details issued the day before.

Thats it, said Nelson. That looks like the car. All we gotta do is find the driver. Hes a big guy and, according to this, hes built like a gorilla.

The two officers peered through the Caprices window and scrutinised the interior. Sure enough, there was the red plaid car rug, pornographic magazines, and a bible. By the gearshift, they noticed several packs of Marlborough cigarettes; all items that had been detailed by a previous rape victim of the man the police were searching for.