The first picture is of the Northcott Ranch where Gordon Northcott raped and murdered several young boys in the 30’s. It is located at 3660 Wineville Avenue, Mira Loma, CA. Just had the chance to stop by today. Do not trespass as it is a current residence of someone’s and is not an abandoned property. They say the original chicken coop is still on the property but I didn’t see it. The second picture is what it used to look like.
This newspaper clipping of a 1947 article tells the story of an estranged husband, Morley Vernon King, who killed his wife, Helen King, and stuffed her corpse in a trunk. He then fled a couple days after and room service discovered the body in the trunk under the back porch. He was caught by FBI agents in Philadelphia using the alias “William Wilson”.
King could say “I hid my wife’s corpse in a trunk under the porch” fluently in four different languages.
7 number of women who have appeared on the list
6 number of fugitives who have appeared on the list twice
37.4 average age of a top tenner
5’10” average height of a top tenner
168.5 average weight of a top tenner
316 average number of days fugitives spend on the list
2 shortest fugitive run, in hours
6,800 longest fugitive run, in days (and still counting)
11 number of the FBI has made a “special addition” to the Top Ten Most Wanted list, pushing the number above 10
16 the most fugitives to ever appear on the Top Ten list at once
13 number of fugitives captured thanks to magazine articles
3 number of fugitives captured thanks to radio broadcasts
21 number of fugitives captured thanks to TV shows
134 number of fugitives captured thanks to tips from the public
9 number of fugitives killed during capture
10 number of fugitives who died before capture
21 number of fugitives who surrendered before capture
25 number of fugitives captured in foreign countries
47 number of states where fugitives have been captured (missing states: Alaska, Maine, and Delaware.)
1,000 average number of miles from the crime scene from where a fugitive is arrested.
In September, I recieved an official list of all the things that had been collected from Jeff’s apartment. Sixty-nine separate sheets, all of them headed POLICE INVENTORY, listed the residue of my son’s life.
There were the videos he had watched, some innocuous, like Blade Runner and Star Wars, some darkly suggestive, like Hellbound and Exorcist III, and still others that were grimly pornographic, Hardmen II, Rock Hard, and Tropical Heat Wave.
There were things he had read, all of it pornographic, with the exception of four books on the care of fish.
There was the music he had listened to, Motley Crue and Def Leppard’s “Hysteria”.
There were the food supplements that had strengthened him: Yerba Prima, Vita, and Anabolic Fuel, incongruously assembled with the junk food of a careless life, Doritos and Ruffles chips.
There were the things that had helped destroy him: bottles of rum and cans of beer, an alcoholic’s indiscriminate collection, Budweiser, Pabst Blue Ribbon, Miller High Life.
There were chemicals he had used to clean: Clorox bleach, Woolworth Pine Cleaner, and Lysol. There were chemicals he had used to preserve: formaldehyde and acetone. And there were chemicals he had used to kill: chloroform and ether and halcion, as well as to break down the flesh of the newly dead, Soilex, six boxes. There were even chemicals he had used to conceal the things that he had done: Odor-sorb, also six boxes.
There were utterly neutral things, suddenly made sinister: three black-handled forks, two butcher knives, a pair of chemical-resistant gloves, a handsaw with five detachable blades, and a three-quarter-inch drill.
There were ordinary things, suddenly made unspeakably perverse: barbecue sauce and a meat tenderizer.
There were the few things he used to beautify his life: an ornamental driftwood, artificial peacock feathers, and a lighted fish tank.
There were symbols of the modern world: a computer and a software manual, a guide to learning DOS, a blue-and-white laptop box cover. And there were artifacts from an ancient world: two plastic griffins and an incense burner.
There were things he had used to sustain life: a box of fish food. And the things he’d used to take it: a pair of nickel-plated handcuffs.
There were, at last, the inescapable remnants of the awesome damage he had done, each item grimly listed in the same terrible inventory:
1 Pillow White w/Light Blue Flowers w/Bloodstain
1 Pillow Black Case & Pillow w/Bloodstain
1 Bed Sheet Black Fitted w/Bloodstain
1 White Mattress Cover White w/Bloodstain
1 Pillow Case Black w/Bloodstain
1 Mattress w/Blue Flowered Pattern w/Bloodstains both sides
1. 1975 Dodge pickup, Washington license PR-5996, maroon in color with a black hood and numerous rust-colored primer spots. This pickup was known to have two canopies associated with it, one white and the other black. The truck was purchased on 6/5/77 by Gary Ridgway and totaled in an accident on 2/21/84. This vehicle has since been destroyed.
2. 1973 Plymouth Satellite, 4-door, brown in color, Washington license FRD275. This vehicle was purchased by “Girlfriend C” on 12/2/83 and sold to Gary Ridgway on 2/22/84. “Girlfriend C” was Ridgway’s girlfriend during 1982, 1983, and early 1984.
3. 1970 Dodge pickup, blue-green (aqua) in color, with a white cab-high canopy, Washington license A48731. This vehicle was later painted dark blue by Gary Ridgway. The vehicle was purchased on 7/9/81 by Gary Ridgway’s brother, Thomas E. Ridgway.
4. 1977 Dodge pickup, brown and gold in color, Washington license XS5535. This vehicle was purchased on 10/18/78 by Gary Ridgway’s father, Thomas N. Ridgway, and sold on 8/11/86.
5. 1983 Ford pickup, red and white in color, with cab-high canopy, Washington license HZ6684. This pickup was purchased on 8/11/83 by Gary Ridgway’s father, Thomas N. Ridgway, and sold on 8/15/86.
6. 1970 Ford pickup, off-white or very faded light green in color, Washington license A01419. This pickup was previously owned by “Girlfriend C” and her ex-husband, who signed off his interest in the pickup on 8/17/82 as a part of a divorce settlement. “Girlfriend C” sold the pickup on 5/7/83.
7. 1977 Ford pickup, brown in color, Washington license PZ9609. This pickup was purchased by Gary Ridgway on 4/16/84 and occasionally had a gold-and-white 8-foot camper on it.
8. 1969 Dodge Dart, 2-door, beige/brown in color, Washington license OLF212. This vehicle was purchased by Gary Ridgway on 2/13/85 from his brother, Thomas E. Ridgway, who purchased this vehicle from his brother, Gregory L. Ridgway, on 3/24/75.
9. 1992 Ford Ranger pickup, red in color with red canopy, Washington license 75935Y. This vehicle was last registered to Gary Ridgway.
10. 1992 Mercury Sable, 4-door, tan in color, Washington license 721EXO. This vehicle was last registered to Gary and Judith Ridgway.
11. 1992 Flair Motorhome, beige in color, Washington license 131EKO. This vehicle was last registered to Gary and Judith Ridgway.
A task force detective managed to locate the person Ridgway stabbed some forty years later. Now living in California, the man confirmed Ridgway’s account of the incident without any prompting from the detective. He said that he was six years old at the time and in the first grade. He was playing near a wooded area close to his house and an adjacent school. He was wearing a cowboy hat, cowboy boots, two “six guns”, and a toy rifle—and he was playing with a stick. The victim said he was approached by a boy who, he estimated was eight or ten years older than he was. This boy asked him if he wanted to build a fort, and the victim agreed. According to the victim, the boy who approached him said, “You know, there’s uh, there’s people around here that , that like to kill little boys like you.” He led the little boy to the wooded area behind the school and stabbed him through the ribs and into his liver. The victim reported, “And I asked him why he, why he killed me…I watched too many cowboy movies, you know!…And the, you know, and I saw all the blood pumpin’ outta me…It was , it was profusely. I mean, it was already runnin’ down my leg into my boots…And, uh with every heartbeat it was just pumpin’ out…It was the whole front a’ my shirt was soaked….And he stood uh, started laughin’, and he had a smile on his face and he stood there for a minute and he had his knife in his hand, and I didn’t want him to stab me again, but he reached toward me and he just wiped the knife off—both sides of the blade, so he wiped it once across my shoulder and twice across my shoulder on the other side a’ the blade….Folded [the knife] back up, and he says, ‘I always wanted to know what it felt like to kill somebody.’” According to the victim, Ridgway seemed rather pleased with the experience, “Then he started walkin’ down that knoll and he was laughin’, you know, kinda puttin’ his head in the air, you know, and laughin’ real loud.”
As evidence of his morbidity, Ted readily admitted that he was preoccupied with the cyanotic hue of a corpse’s fingernails, discoloration of the skin after death, necrophilia, and possession of the female corpse. In psychological terms his behavior can best be described as compulsive necrophilia and extreme perversion.
I guess I've really done it this time. I'm sorry. How's grandma?
She's doing OK. She sends her love.
I'm really sorry for all the trouble I've caused her.
Well, she's going to be all right. We've had some trouble at the house, though. There were a lot of reporters around, that sort of thing.
So they're really bothering you?
They have been, yeah. We had some eggs thrown at the house. The police are helping us. They do the best they can.
Well, maybe the reporters will go away after a while.
Maybe. The roses look good...the ones you planted.
The yellow ones and the red ones.
That's good. It's a nice garden.
The cat's doing fine. She always wants to be brushed. You know how she likes that.
She's always trying to be brushed. Remember how you used to do it?
I don't know what to say.
I don't either.
I really screwed up this time.
Yes, you did.
I really blew it.
Well, you can still be treated, Jeff. I didn't really realize how sick you were. You need help, Jeff.
We just need to make sure you get some help. You know, mental help.
I guess so.
Maybe you can get better, Jeff.
With professionals, people who can help you.
She sends her love.
She's at home in Ohio.
She didn't come up?
No, not yet.
The food is bad here.
And it's hard to sleep. There's a lot of screaming.
Well, just do your best.
They keep the lights on all the time.
Well, try to sleep.
You need to sleep.
I really messed up.
Yes, but Shari and I will stand by you, Jeff.
However unfortunate, it is the natural order of life. We live and we die. It is unfortunate, as we were very close, so thank you for your kind words. Peace.
There’s been a death in the family, so until we can get everything settled, I probably won’t be on for a few more days.