How ya doin',
Bobby Taylor?
If I ever turned you down seven times
for lewd proposals,
I haven't turned you down once.
- Well...
- If I were you, Holly,
I'd have taken this man in
and had him neutered!
Oh, and, Holly, honey...
- Night.
- Thank you.
Or Max's Liquor Store
is gonna come and take your home
for the booze bill.
And Mr. Kirby Baker,
our fine real estate executive.
Baker Realty.
Honesty.
Honesty since 1938.
Your secretary,
poor little Gladys Wilmett,
she had to leave town awful sudden.
Had to see
a special kind of doctor in Cincinnati.
I know, I know the nights are just so warm
that poor Willie May just had to leave
her shades open an inch.
Detective Drowatzky?
Bill Tench.
Bernie.
My kids say I look like a cop.
Don't we all?
I'm this way.
Where do you stand on active leads?
Nobody.
Or everybody.
But every time we get a letter,
we get a new detail.
Right now, we're tryin' to trace
the Xerox machine he uses
by signature marks on the paper edge
and... ink diffusion.
Sophisticated work.
I got 20-year street cops who know more
about toner than the copy guy.
Could be us spinning our wheels again.
When we get to the station,
you can see the letters.
Any of the crime scenes accessible?
All of 'em. They're still vacant.
But we've combed through them
pretty good over the years.
It really helps
to put the photos in context.
If you don't mind.
Might as well start at the beginning.
Otero.
Bit of a drive.
I hope you don't mind
a little Willie Nelson.
Not at all.
♪ Angel flyin' too close ♪
♪ To the ground ♪
803 North Edgemoor.
The Otero house.
January 1974.
They'd just moved in two months prior.
It was a school day.
Neighbors were comin' and goin'
all morning.
One of 'em even saw BTK drive off
in the family car afterwards.
Women around here come home,
first thing they do is check
the phone still works...
five years later.
We think he came in here.
The two kids making their lunches.
The older three had already gone
to school.
They had five kids in this house?
Retired m*llitary.
Used to base housing.
No forced entry.
The dog was in the yard when we got here.
It makes no sense to come into a house
with an adult male and a dog.
Nothing makes sense.
He took the money
out of Mr. Otero's wallet,
emptied her purse,
and stole Mr. Otero's aviator's watch.
- But clearly, robbery was not his motive.
- And the driver's licenses were missing.
- Yeah.
- He was taking souvenirs.
And he already knew what he wanted
on his very first k*ll.
So the dad would've been about here,
tied to the foot of the bed.
Police report said he was suffocated
with a plastic bag and a T-shirt?
Later,
we found there was a hole in it.
Mr. Otero managed to rip it
with his teeth.
The k*ller took the plastic bag off,
put the T-shirt on over his head
so he couldn't tear it again,
and then put the bag back on.
Agonizing.
And Mrs. Otero was on the bed.
She had double ligature marks.
Must have come to,
so he had to do it again.
We think that since it was his first try,
he botched it.
The kids must've been in here.
They had to have seen everything.
We found the youngest boy on the floor,
suffocated.
Two T-shirts and a bag.
So, the k*ller learned, took no chances.
He would've brought the little girl
in here too. Couldn't leave her alone.
There was a chair here
with deep carpet indentations.
We think he sat to watch the boy die.
That would have taken...?
Between four and six minutes.
My partner and I were first
on the scene.
It was completely dark down here.
He was feeling for a light
when something bumped him.
That's when we found the little girl...
hanging from this pipe.
Oh, Jesus.
What happened to the older Otero kids?
Any chance I could talk to them?
Relatives
in Albuquerque came and got 'em.
They won't let the kids relive
any part of it.
They were the ones who found the bodies.
Cut the ropes
from their parents' necks,
tryin' to save 'em.
They call now and again.
Five years later...
I got nothin'.
♪ I love a rainy night... ♪
We kept thinkin'
we'd catch him...
just around the corner.
That first week after Otero,
not one of us went home.
We turned over every parolee,
every sex offender.
My partner and I even stayed over
the first three nights.
In the house?
Hoping the k*ller would come back.
- See anything?
- Nothin'.
A month later,
we stayed the night in there again.
With a psychic.
You consulted Uri Geller
before the FBI?
We were graspin' at anything.
That poor guy got so freaked out.
He was gone the second the sun came up.
So, is that true?
Do these guys return
to the scene of the crime?
We were just going on
what we'd always heard.
Old detective stories.
The psychopath feels guilty or somethin'.
Ed Kemper, the Coed k*ller...
Yeah?
He told us he went back.
But not out of anything like guilt.
He considered those places
somehow sacred,
if you can imagine that.
Truthfully, we haven't been asking
that question, but we probably should.
Tell me about his letters.
They were all sent to the press?
Cops actually got spooked.
We wondered:
did he know who was workin' the case?
Would he come after us? Our wives?
I had this one sergeant.
Ten-year guy, tough.
Slept on his sofa with a shotgun
for a year.
Finally, he and his wife relocated.
We've lost a lot
of the original task force over the years.
- I bet.
- It's hard on guys.
What about the lady he missed?
Could I speak with her?
Anna?
She moved the next day.
Left everything behind.
- Furniture, everything.
- He's clearing out the town.
He's got the whole city twitchin'
like prey.
Kathy Bright's brother,
- he's still around.
- He's around.
We think that's why BTK never named her
as a victim.
He knew he left a witness.
If he hadn't claimed seven,
we would never have connected her.
MO's wrong.
She was stabbed, Kevin was sh*t.
But the son of a bitch wants credit
for every single one.
I'd like to talk to Kevin.
He took three b*ll*ts in the face.
- Spent a year in the hospital.
- Is he... reliable?
- He's all we got.
- ♪ Yeah, I love a rainy night ♪
You know, I've done undercover drug deals
with less skullduggery than this.
He doesn't wanna be seen talkin'
to cops.
The safer he feels, the longer he'll stay.
Kevin has good days and bad days.
I'm hopin' this one's good.
- That loaded?
- Always.
Don't worry, Kevin wouldn't hurt a fly.
Jesus improve your aim?
I'm a woodworker.
If I'm pullin' a shotgun,
it's 'cause I'm in a situation
where aiming is not an option.
At that point,
I'll take all the help I can get.
- This our guy?
- That's him.
Can't be a buck-forty soppin' wet.
He's lost a lot of weight.
Nerve damage from the sh**ting.
Remember to face forward.
Hey, Kevin. How you doing?
Could you, uh,
please turn the mirror?
I'm, uh... doin' all right...
I guess.
This is Agent Tench.
I'm gonna let him ask his questions.
I don't know what else I can tell you.
Thank you for coming, Kevin.
What I'd like to do is ask you
some questions,
some of which you've heard before.
Some may be new.
I'll listen to your story,
but I'm gonna focus
on the suspect's behavior.
I'm gonna ask you to go
into a lot of detail.
Everything is important.
All right.
On that Thursday,
your sister left her car in the driveway,
is that right?
We were in Dad's truck.
I was bringin' her home.
As you approached the house,
did you notice anything different
or strange?
No, sir.
Kathy and me were just laughing,
talkin' when we walked in.
Then he came out.
Was he aggressive?
Did he seem angry? Jumpy?
Just... real matter-of-fact.
But... like he could be mean underneath.
What do you remember of his clothes,
how he was dressed?
I... gave a description.
Black... golf gloves, green jacket.
But how did they seem to you?
Clean, dirty, cheap?
Didn't seem cheap.
The jacket was bulky.
Nice.
Everything was clean.
A lot of pockets.
Did he say anything else?
He said he was a wanted man.
He said,
"I'm wanted in California,
and I need to get to New York."
Were you afraid,
or did you think
he was telling you the truth?
I figured it was just a robbery.
I gave him the truck keys.
I thought he had what he wanted,
so he'd go.
But he didn't.
Did he force you to tie Kathy up?
Didn't... force.
- Just told me.
- Told you how?
Real simple.
He made everything sound... reasonable.
Like if we just did this,
he was gonna leave.
Where did he get the cord
he tied you with?
From his pockets.
I tied Kathy pretty loose.
He made me lie down,
and he tied my hands behind my back.
He tied my feet to the bed.
And what was he like when he tied you?
Was he... nervous, flustered?
Uh... not at all.
I watched him tie my feet.
He was fast with knots.
- Like he'd done it before.
- Mm-hmm.
Was he rough? Angry?
Did he tie you tight?
He was almost... gentle.
Gentle?
It seemed.
He took a pillow from the bed
and put it under my head.
That's interesting.
I want to come back to that,
but please continue.
He took Kathy into the other room.
I... couldn't tell what was going on.
Then I heard noises.
What kind of noises?
Not... moans,
almost little cries.
Then it got real quiet.
And I couldn't hear him anymore.
All of a sudden,
a radio came on in my room, loud.
And he put something around my neck,
and he started pulling.
It was so fast.
What did you do?
I just started kicking
and twisting.
I... I knew right then,
he was gonna k*ll me.
When he was strangling you,
did he say anything?
Uh... no.
Kevin, this is important.
At any time, when he was tying you up
or when he was strangling you,
could you tell if he had an erection?
Uh...
I don't know.
I... I couldn't see.
That's all right.
How'd you get away?
I was thrashing around so much,
my feet broke loose.
I stood up. I got my hands free.
I saw him go for the g*n.
I grabbed at it.
We fought for it.
I got it turned.
I had it right at his stomach.
I... I pulled the trigger twice,
as hard as I could,
but it wouldn't go off.
He'd have had the safety on.
Everything would be different
if I had only sh*t him.
There's no way
you could've gotten the safety off
and sh*t him with him pulling on the g*n.
I guess it slipped out of my hands
'cause he had it,
and he pulled the trigger.
First b*llet grazed my face.
The second one went
in the side of my head.
That's when I...hit the floor.
- Did you pass out?
- Uh-uh.
I never did.
I was awake the whole time.
I decided to play dead.
- What did you hear next?
- Kathy... moan.
I heard him grunting.
And I was in there playing possum.
It's okay, Kevin.
He must have heard me move
because he was on me again.
He sh*t me. Blew my teeth out.
Then he went back to Kathy.
I... could barely stand.
The radio was so loud.
There was blood everywhere.
I looked around, you know,
for something to hit him with,
but I thought...
...the best chance was to get help.
So you ran.
Uh-huh.
- Yeah.
- It's the best thing you coulda done.
I coulda gone back in there!
We would've lost you both.
Kevin, thank you.
If you think of anything else,
any detail...
No.
Um... He wore a watch.
Yeah, a... a big, steel,
m*llitary kind.
Was it at all similar to this one?
It looked like that.
Joseph Otero's watch.
That's that family, right?
It's him, isn't it?
BTK.
He bragged about a fifth victim,
but he never named her.
We think it was Kathy.
I told you, he'd done this before.
He knew what he was doing!
I... I don't have brain damage
like they say.
- I just get tired!
- We believe you.
- And we'll catch him.
- I can't wait for that.
- What do you mean?
- I saw his face!
He knows I'm out here.
Every time I walk into a store,
every time somebody walks into a room.
- Even at church.
- This guy does not go to church.
- Where are you gonna go, Kevin?
- Just... away.
Can't say that I blame him.
Nance?
- Uh, what's wrong?
- Nothing.
It's okay.
Honey, did you leave the back door open?
I was taking out the trash.
Brian couldn't sleep.
Are you... Are you coming to bed?
- I'll be in soon.
- All right.
Wendy's almost ready to meet
for those Georgia interviews.
Right.
- BTK.
- He's a new animal.
- Lots of interesting contradictions.
- You mind?
He brought the little girl to the basement
and constructed a ritualized execution.
That took time.
This was a big risk.
Her scene is the only one
with semen present.
She was clearly his primary interest.
The rest of the family is just...
collateral.
He only expected the mother
and youngest daughter to be home.
But he learns.
After the Oteros,
all of his victims are women.
None of the men were at home,
except for your witness, Bright's brother.
Kevin wasn't expected either.
So BTK changes his MO,
and that's why he stabs the sister.
What's amazing is
even though he was surprised
during the Bright and Otero murders,
he somehow manages
to overcome his own panic.
Imagine the adrenaline.
You've planned for a petite woman
and an eleven-year-old girl.
And all of a sudden,
you got a barking dog,
another child,
and a retired master sergeant.
But he didn't run. He took his time.
Maybe Otero wasn't his first.
Too many rookie mistakes.
It was his first.
But I also think
that he was exceptionally prepared.
He practiced?
Remember Kemper practiced on dolls,
animals.
He spent years fantasizing,
so he knew
exactly how he was going to do it
when the time came.
There's no way our guy doesn't have
a rap sheet.
Animal abuse,
maybe peeping neighborhood girls,
assaulting prostitutes.
So what have we got so far?
White male, late 20s to early 30s,
rap sheet, possible as*ault complaints.
High school education at best.
Has difficulty holding
more than a menial job.
Kevin said he smelled "clean."
His clothes were nice.
He wasn't angry or harsh.
He sounds almost as ordinary and suburban
as the victim pool.
Everyone we've interviewed
is a product of a difficult home
and a string of adult failures.
- Hmm.
- They're all emotionally scarred.
The only one who managed to keep a job
was Brudos, and he was blue-collar.
What about his letters
that he writes to the newspaper?
He's equating himself with famous K*llers.
"Son of Sam," "Jack the Ripper,"
"Ted of the West Coast."
That's gotta be Bundy. Who's Glatman?
Harvey. Famous for binding
and strangling women in the '50s.
- Of course you know that.
- He's studying them.
Modeling himself after them.
Look at this page.
He actually gives himself possible names.
"I like the following.
How about you?
'The BTK Strangler, '
'Wichita Strangler, '
'Wichita Executioner.'"
He's christening himself for the media.
Like Zodiac,
or Berkowitz naming himself "Son of Sam."
Berkowitz also courted the press.
He wrote directly to Jimmy Breslin.
Berkowitz also gave himself a symbol
with initials.
He used it on every letter he wrote.
Right.
It had a cross on the top.
Like this.
Look at our guy.
We have to talk to the chubby behemoth.
This is what we're doing now?
Rearranging our interviews
to service investigations?
Because all of our subjects are important.
Berkowitz has been on the list
since the beginning.
Maybe, but we need to discuss
where he fits into our analysis.
I mean, he's a diagnosed schizophrenic.
So was Kemper as a juvenile.
We need to at least consider
that Berkowitz is a blitz k*ller.
He exhibits none of Kemper
or Brudos' psycho-sexual motivations.
By his own account, he walked up to cars,
fired five sh*ts, and then ran.
I can't see how anything lasting
19 seconds
could allow for sexual gratification.
Well,
we know BTK is inspired by Berkowitz.
And we know BTK kills
for sexual fulfillment.
And he's active. Seven so far.
And he's hunting again.
Either of these Georgia boys
up for the chair?
- Hance is on death row.
- On appeal.
Plenty of time.
We'll push them off a week.
I'll put together the research. Gregg,
- can you change the flights?
- Sure.
This is what we're doin' now.
What?
This doesn't seem like your scene.
Holden brought me here.
Doesn't seem like Holden's scene.
Look, I won't usually betray a confidence,
but when Holden disappeared
those two days,
he went to see Kemper.
Now, whatever happened
during that visit precipitated...
Panic att*cks.
- You knew?
- I had to retrieve his ass.
I'm really sorry I didn't tell you.
I thought the last thing we need
is for Holden to have everyone
walking on eggshells around here.
Quite frankly, Bill,
this demands our attention.
He had an episode. Even the doctor said
it feels worse than it is.
Panic att*cks may not be brought on
by anything real,
but their effects are very real.
Whether you think Holden deserves
your sympathy or not,
this could have serious consequences
for us
and very real physiological consequences
for him.
You're right.
- Does Gunn know about this?
- No.
He's based his vision and his largesse
on the Holden Ford miracle.
I couldn't tell him
Boy Wonder has the vapors.
- We might not be worth salvaging...
- With this Berkowitz interview,
you have got to take the lead.
He's gonna be walking in there
in a heightened state,
knowing that he's got one sh*t
at the k*ller on the cover of Newsweek.
He'll be anxious, vulnerable,
and that could prime him for an episode.
The last time he was in the room
with a serial k*ller,
he ended up chained to a hospital bed.
What do I do?
Be observant.
Apart from the obvious physical cues,
an att*ck can manifest dozens of ways.
So if he seems manic
or overly nervous, fragile...
Should I carry smelling salts?
It's not a joke.
If you see one hint,
you get him out of there.
Whatever you feel about Holden's health,
if he blows this with Berkowitz,
Gunn will rethink his investment.
And from now on,
there needs to be transparency between us.
Whatever is going on with him,
we both know about it.
Two-way street.
Deal.
I'll get our next one.
- I feel like I owe you.
- I got it.
- Another round?
- Gorgeous.
- Mm!
- Yeah. Thank you.
Let me get that for you.
Leave her alone, Gary.
She's with General Patton over there.
Well, you keep blowing me off, Kay!
How else is a red-blooded American patriot
supposed to spend his hard-earned pay?
I'm sure you don't need any help
coming up with ideas.
What if I promise
to take you out of here
and away from all these assholes?
- What's your name, Marine?
- Eric.
Did you just get into Quantico, Eric?
Yes, ma'am.
Why don't you help me
through my first long night?
Oh, Eric, you are new here.
These boys put you up to it, didn't they?
Sadly, you are warming up the bat
all by yourself tonight.
I play for the other team.
If she's bent,
so are Christie Brinkley
and Brooke Shields.
- Well, I'd watch that pillow fight.
- Same tab?
No, I've got this one.
That really work?
People see what they wanna see.
Let me know
if I can get you anything else.
- Thanks.
- Thanks for dropping by.
Eyes forward, maggots.
Six k*lled, seven wounded.
Biggest manhunt in US history.
And he says a demon inhabiting
a neighbor's dog made him do it.
Do we really buy that?
On the surface, the crimes appear random,
but... I'm not sure he's the madman
he makes himself out to be.
There's just enough pattern
to show intention.
He always sh*t at women
or women in the company of men.
And when he sh*t at couples in cars,
he always sh*t at the passenger side.
That was used to support
the "random" argument.
It's the side closest to the sidewalk.
No planning, no strategy.
Just sh**t.
But in couples,
the male is usually the driver.
He never sh*t at the driver's side.
He unleashed everything on the...
woman's side of the vehicle.
I'm surprised the FBI hasn't come sooner.
The night I was arrested,
the mayor came to see me.
He came down to my cell
in the middle of the night.
We fit you in as soon as we could.
So, you're talking to other people?
A few.
But no one who's done what you did.
You held an entire city in thrall.
Girls got their hair cut
so you wouldn't single them out.
Discos closed early.
It was the largest task force
New York ever assembled.
A hundred years from now,
people will still know the name
Son of Sam.
I always say,
if you want to learn how to paint,
go straight to the artist.
- What does that mean?
- You got so much publicity,
there's a k*ller out in Kansas
who idolizes you.
He's writing letters to the press.
And he's writing about you.
- Is he sh1tting me?
- Guy's k*lled seven so far.
He even made a symbol.
Show him the thing.
What is that? Boobs?
It's a B.
- This is a complete rip-off.
- That's what we think.
How's he k*ll 'em?
He breaks into houses,
ties 'em up, strangles 'em.
Calls himself BTK.
For Bind, t*rture, k*ll.
David, why did you name yourself?
"I am the Son of Sam.
Go out and k*ll, commands father Sam."
The press had called me
the ".44 Caliber k*ller."
They had this absurd theory
the g*n somehow symbolized my penis.
I'm not some crazed sex k*ller.
I needed a name
that explained who I really was.
That I was being controlled
by a 3,000-year-old demon.
People need to know demons are real.
The Exorcist is based on actual sh*t.
You saw The Exorcist?
Everyone did.
You read a lot about demons
and exorcisms before the killings?
Maybe.
Let's go to the first att*ck.
We're fascinated by your mindset...
You're adopted, aren't you?
Yeah. Just before this all started,
I traced my biological mother.
- Found out she never wanted me.
- That must've been hard.
My adoptive mother
told me my real mother d*ed.
That often happens with adopted kids.
Well, I was illegitimate.
They both lied.
That's about when
I started hearing voices.
The "demons."
How do you know when you have a demon?
Are there symptoms?
Possession isn't just
what you see on the outside.
The torment inside is horrible.
Demons are powerful beings.
They use your own voice,
your own thoughts against you.
They make you think you're crazy.
When they get strong enough,
they speak their name out loud.
And once they've done that,
they are in complete control.
So, now you know you've got a demon...
What did you do?
I quit my job
and locked myself in my apartment.
For a month,
I stayed home listening, preparing...
Listening? To what exactly?
My neighbor, Sam, had a dog.
Every night,
this dog would howl.
He would not shut up.
He kept saying he needed blood.
He demanded blood.
I had no choice.
That writing on your apartment walls,
what was that about?
Sometimes the voices came
from inside the walls.
So, not from a dog?
I'm just trying to keep it all straight.
They tormented me.
I would tear the walls open
looking for 'em.
Was that about the time you saw
The Exorcist and read your books?
- Around then.
- I'm curious.
You had this history of demonic voices,
psychotic episodes.
Why not plead not guilty
by reason of insanity?
Why plead guilty and never get a trial
where you could explain your demons?
Because I am not insane.
I can't pretend to be insane.
I knew it was wrong,
but they made me do it.
Hearing demons is quite possibly
the textbook definition of insanity.
They came to me, not from me.
Sorry to dwell on it,
but it is the part that fascinates people.
You know, two people are writing books.
Your neighbor and some guy
you gave your life rights to
for whatever reason.
I'm in a legal dispute with him.
That book is gonna move like Big Macs.
A guy who talks to dogs, hears demons.
Crazy sells, man.
He makes any proceeds off the book, right?
- The guy with your life rights?
- Like I said, it's a legal dispute.
I can't discuss the details.
Oh, I bet it is.
The voices don't interfere
with talking to your lawyer, do they?
It's a crock, isn't it?
There's no voices, no demon.
The dog doesn't talk.
You saw a movie,
read some books, and made it all up.
So if everything went to sh*t...
you'd have a way out.
Do you want to forever be known at the FBI
as the guy who let a Labrador land him
in jail for the rest of his shitty life?
They all bought it, David, didn't they?
Even the shrinks.
Especially the shrinks.
Hell, I believed some of it.
I'm very suggestible.
Did you wanna hear voices?
I kept reading about 'em.
They got kinda tied up
with my fantasies.
What fantasies are those?
Girls. Revenge.
I'm what you call
a "sex-starved daydreamer."
That... That's just me.
That's not clinical.
- When did these fantasies start?
- When I was a teenager.
But even now,
I still spend most of my time fantasizing.
My killings were not sex crimes.
I never wanted to r*pe anybody.
I just wanted to k*ll 'em.
Voices helped me justify
what I already wanted to do.
How did you find them? Your victims?
Just started driving.
- Driving?
- All the time.
Lookin' for girls.
So you never picked anyone out in advance
and surveilled them?
No. I never knew who it would be.
Is that what Kansas does?
We think so from his letters.
I just drove and drove.
I'll bet he does too, Kansas.
Gotta have a reliable car.
And I was cunning.
I studied maps, escape routes.
I carried my g*n,
a roll of quarters for parking.
You never know
when it might come together.
How did you know
what nights to go hunting?
Did it have anything to do
with lunar cycles?
f*ck no. I hunted every night.
- Every night?
- That's what it takes.
Commitment.
You go out every night,
but... maybe once every few weeks,
you find the right girl
in the right place, at the right time.
I never knew what I was lookin' for,
but I knew her when I saw her.
You ever take souvenirs?
Something from the scene?
- Maybe something from one of the girls?
- No, I ran.
The copycat, he takes things?
Yeah.
David, did you ever go back
to any of the crime scenes?
All the time.
Was it because you felt guilt or remorse?
Nah.
If I struck out
or there were too many cops,
I'd go back to where I did a job.
You'd relive it.
Every detail.
Sometimes, I rolled around in the dirt
where they d*ed, just to feel it.
Did you...?
Masturbate?
Oh, yeah.
But not there. At home.
Again, I never fantasized
about sex with v*olence.
Those two things were always separate.
Of course.
Even if he takes souvenirs, your guy,
I guarantee you he goes back.
You can't resist it.
Maybe he just drives by.
Maybe.
His own narcissism forces him
to admit that the demons were fabricated.
The thought of someone else profiting
from his fame was unbearable.
Your instincts were right.
A schizophrenic wouldn't be able
to turn the voices on and off.
Crazed k*ller or possessed,
what's the difference?
He can't tolerate his image
tarnished by insanity.
The demons make him special.
A warrior battling insurmountable evil.
Crazy's just weak.
You know what's really surprising
is that despite appearances,
his crimes are psycho-sexually motivated.
He kept making the point
that his sexual fantasies were separate
from the v*olence.
He did not want his g*n mistaken
for his penis.
He did choose a .44.
That goes back to public image
conflicting with self-image.
Sex offenders are perverts.
He's a tormented genius.
When the media got that wrong,
he corrected the narrative.
So is he getting off on publicity
more than the killings?
It's both.
The killings were foreplay,
but he was just as concerned
with how he was perceived.
Naming himself,
communicating with the media.
It all adds up to control.
And Berkowitz can't control
how women treat him
or how he fits into his family.
So he creates this monstrous persona,
but really he's just a dumpy,
awkward mailman.
If we go by what Berkowitz said,
BTK trolls every night.
No one could hold down a real job,
have a family,
hunt, visit their crime scenes.
He's got a menial job at best.
- And no real relationships.
- Certainly not with women.
Based on Berkowitz,
we're gonna have to open up
an entire new category.
We've been looking at whether K*llers
follow their stories in the media,
like Kemper did.
But now we have to consider how they use
the media to create their own mythologies.
So Berkowitz, what is he?
He's not schizophrenic.
Does virtually no preplanning.
Has an absurd supernatural explanation
if caught.
And there are definite sexual components
to his crimes.
Organized or disorganized?
Does he get a promotion
now that he's not talkin' to dogs?
Overall, I'd say
he's more organized than not.
Who'd have thunk?
Hey, Bill.
How was he?
A little stiff at first.
But then back to his old cocksure self.
- You read it.
- Hmm. Still think we need to be cautious.
I think he's back.
Good night.
Good night.
Good evening. Uh, is Nancy Tench home?
I'm her husband. Can I help you?
I'm Detective Spencer
with Fredericksburg PD.
Special Agent Tench.
FBI.
What can I do for ya?
I'm so sorry.
Detective Art Spencer.
Mrs. Tench, are you the Realtor
for 1159 Cimmaron Court?
Yes.
You need to know that the residence is,
unfortunately, a crime scene.
- What? Has there been a break-in?
- No, there's been a...
body found in the garage.
Oh, my God.
We're investigating it as a homicide.
Um... I'm afraid I can't disclose...
Forgive me.
May I come in?
Of course.
- Can I get you some water, anything?
- No, thank you.
I've just come from notifying next of kin.
- That is rough.
- Oh, my God.
I'm sorry, how can we help?
I need to ask a few questions.
Ma'am, who has access to
or has recently entered the premises?
Um, just me and the owner.
I've only shown it twice.
There's a lockbox.
The combination is the street address.
I know that's not very secure.
Is it possible any of the doors
may have been left open by mistake?
No, I'm always so careful.
What about the yard?
Do you have a regular crew?
That's supposed to be me,
but I'm afraid I never got there.
I'll need to get the names of anyone
that you've taken through the house.
Of course. Um...
Please, sit down.
This one's got me a little shook up,
Agent Tench.
Bill. I get it.
I work in a special homicide unit myself.
I've seen plenty of things
that kept me up at night.
Anything you wanna share?
I really shouldn't discuss
the particulars.
Understood.
I didn't wanna scare
your wife,
but I do need to get her shoes
from when she was last in the garage.
We have a lot of latent evidence,
and we need to eliminate her.
Absolutely.
Can I drop 'em by in the morning?
We'll be there.
Here are their names and numbers.
They all seemed perfectly nice.
Thank you, ma'am.
I'll let you know as soon as we're out.
I'm so sorry to have barged in
on your evening.
Not a problem.
Let me know if I can do anything.
Wow.
He was rattled.
I can't imagine.
It's... awful.
That just doesn't happen around here.
It happens everywhere, Nance.
♪ Why don't you ask him
If he's gonna stay? ♪
♪ Why don't you ask him
If he's goin' away? ♪
♪ Hey ♪
♪ Why don't you tell me what's goin' on? ♪
♪ Why don't you tell me ♪
♪ Who's on the phone? Oh, oh, oh! ♪
♪ Why don't you ask him what's goin' on? ♪
♪ Why don't you ask him ♪
♪ Who's the latest on his throne? ♪
- ♪ Don't say that you love me ♪
- ♪ Ah-ee! ♪
- ♪ Just tell me that you want me ♪
- ♪ Ah-ee! ♪
♪ Yeah! ♪
♪ Tusk! ♪
- ♪ Just say that you want me ♪
- ♪ Ah-ee! ♪
♪ Don't tell me that you... ♪
♪ Tusk! ♪
Real savage-like!
♪ Tusk! ♪