Casefile True Crime - Case 137: Arlis Perry

Episode Date: February 22, 2020

19-year-old Arlis Perry took her Christian faith seriously. After fighting with her husband Bruce on the night of October 12 1974, she decided to clear her head by stopping in at the Stanford Memorial Church to pray. When she still hadn’t returned an hour later, Bruce checked the church but the doors we locked. He waited a few more hours before reporting Arlis missing.  --- Episode narrated by the Anonymous Host Written by Elsha McGill Researched by Jessica Forsayeth Additional writing and editing by Milly Raso Creative Director: Milly Raso For all credits and sources please visit casefilepodcast.com/case-137-arlis-perry

Our episodes deal with serious and often distressing incidents. If you feel at any time you need support, please contact your local crisis centre. For suggested phone numbers for confidential support, please see the show notes for this episode on your app or on our website. The Californian city of Stanford lies in the northwest corner of Santa Clara County, just under an hour's drive from San Francisco. Covering an inland area of 2.8 square miles, Stanford is adjacent to Palo Alto, one of the principal cities of the affluent and progressive

Silicon Valley, which has served as an incubator for many prominent and influential technological enterprises over the years, including Apple, Google, Facebook and Tesla. Stanford is home to the prestigious 8000-acre Stanford University, a private, co-educational and non-denominational college and research institution. Many of the city's residents are students or faculty members who live on or around campus in a range of accommodations, including gulmitries, co-ops, row houses, fraternities, sororities, single-family homes and condominiums. Established in 1885, the university was founded by railroad magnate and California

Senator Leland Stanford and his wife Jane, in memory of their only child, Leland Jr, who died of typhoid fever at age 15. The land began as a stock farm with oak-dotted fields and soon developed into one of the largest university campuses in the United States. Despite sustaining heavy damage from two separate earthquakes in 1906 and 1989, the university has managed to maintain its original California mission architecture from the late 1800s, characterized by embellished yellow sandstone, long, low and wide colonnades, open arches and red terracotta-tiled roofs.

At the heart of the campus is the main quadrangle, the university's oldest structure. Stretching over 17 acres, the main quad is reached via a mile-long palm tree-lined road and has an inner and outer section, both of which feature sprawling lawns, courtyards and interconnected buildings housing various departments, classrooms and administration offices. Regarded as a national center for research, Stanford features more than 120 research institutes exploring a range of topics, from particle physics to international studies. Given its proximity to Silicon Valley and its impressive academic and athletic

performance records, it is renowned as one of the top universities of the world. Many students go on to have illustrious careers in their field of expertise, with past alumni including Nobel laureates, Pulitzer Prize winners and Presidential Medal of Freedom recipients. 150,000 visitors are drawn to the famed grounds annually to explore its many features, including eateries, shops and gardens, as well as a stadium, golf course, satellite dish and church. Hiking trails around the campus outskirts offer views of the rolling countryside and attract by more than 50,000 visitors a year.

In the early 1970s, just over 11,000 students were enrolled at Stanford University, and the counter-culture movement that had started in the mid-1960s was still a major aspect of college life. Students fighting for social and political change would often stage protests, sit-ins and formed community action groups for issues such as racism, women's liberation and gay rights. Leslie Marie Perlov graduated from Stanford in 1972 with a bachelor's degree in history. By the beginning of the following year, the 21-year-old was working as a clerk at the North Santa Clara County Law Library in Palo Alto. Leslie hoped to become a lawyer and had recently been accepted into law school at the University of Pennsylvania, though classes had yet to begin.

At 3 p.m. on Tuesday, February 13, Leslie left work for the day, driving off in her 1972 Orange Chevrolet Nova. Her co-workers presumed she was heading directly to her home in the Los Altos Hills, where she lived with her widowed mother Florence. But Leslie never arrived. Leslie always called ahead to let her mother know if she was running late. But by nightfall, Florence still hadn't heard from her. Overcome with worry, she reported her daughter missing. As the search for Leslie commenced, her friends contemplated her possible whereabouts, and suggested that she might have gone to the wooded foothills of the Santa Cruz Mountains in Stanford South. The scenic area was popular with hikers and joggers, and as Leslie loved to

paint, it was thought that she may have gone there looking for a picturesque landscape to capture as a gift for her mother. At 10 o'clock that night, police scanning the foothills of Old Page Mill Road on the southern cusp of the university campus discovered Leslie's Chevrolet abandoned at the gate to an old quarry, just off the Interstate 280 exit. The car was in operable condition, but its key was missing. Leslie's blue shoes and part of the blue outfit she had been wearing that day were found inside. Officers immediately suspected foul play, as Florence Perlov had made it clear that her daughter had never done anything like this before. An off-duty Palo Alto policeman had sighted Leslie's car parked at the same location

four hours earlier at approximately 6pm. He was passing by the area when he observed Leslie in her car speaking to a young man with long, sandy-coloured hair who was standing by her window. A beige or grey-coloured car, presumably belonging to the man, was parked nearby. Over the following days, an intensive search of the old quarry was carried out. The landscape consisted of tree-lined, semi-rural roads, pockets of dense woodland, long stretches of grassy pastures, and steep hillside. The canine unit conducted a ground search, but was unable to detect Leslie's scent beyond her vehicle. At about 10.15am on Thursday, February 15, a police helicopter scanning the area caught

sight of something down below. Officers were sent to the location and discovered the body of a man with a severe chest wound and a sawn-off shotgun in his hand. It was initially believed that the man was linked to Leslie's disappearance, though a connection was quickly ruled out by the police. When he was identified as 24-year-old Palo Alto resident and former Stanford University student, Mark Rospold, a coroner concluded Mark had died the day after Leslie vanished and ruled his death a suicide. The discovery of his remains in the area was a mere coincidence. The following day of Friday the 16th, authorities on horseback searching unkempt wooded pastures

west of Leslie's vehicle came across her body laying face down under an oak tree. Her blue skirt had been pulled up around her waist and her pantyhose had been removed and stuffed into her mouth. It appeared as though Leslie's attacker had intended to rape her, but had been unable to carry out the act when she put up a fight. During the struggle, he used the multicoloured scarf Leslie was wearing to strangle her to death. A coroner determined Leslie's time of death as late afternoon on Tuesday, February 13, several hours after she was last seen alive. There was no sign of a struggle or drag marks along the path to where her body was found, leading investigators to believe she had walked

to the area of her own accord or without sensing any danger. Officers spent days collecting physical evidence from the crime scene which was sent to the state crime lab in Sacramento for analysis. However, DNA profiling was still a decade away and nothing obtained could immediately identify a suspect. A special task force comprised of 15 deputies from the Santa Clara County Sheriff's Department was assigned to investigate Leslie's murder full-time and spent the weekend following up on numerous leads. One passerby claimed to have seen a group of Stanford University students near the side of the murder laid on Tuesday afternoon. Another reported seeing a woman walking with a man up the hill from the abandoned quarry. None of these inquiries generated any

results and, despite requests, the blonde-haired man, witnessed speaking to Leslie at the quarry gate by the off-duty police officer, never came forward. By the ninth day of the investigation, over 1,300 work hours had gone into the case but not a single clue or suspect had emerged. The task force was gradually whittled down to just two part-time officers. By April 8, 1973, the San Francisco Examiner newspaper was reporting that there was little chance that Leslie's murder would ever be solved. On Sunday, March 24, 1974, Janet Ann Taylor was having dinner at a friend's place on the Stanford University campus when she announced that it was time for her to leave.

Janet lived in a cabin in nearby La Honda and wanted to get home to feed her two pet dopamine pinches and let them out for a run. The 21-year-old had recently attended Canada College in nearby Redwood City and had taken time out of her studies to work with the Stanford Research Institute and a local photography studio, and had just started a new job as a teletypist with a marine weather forecasting service in Palo Alto. Janet had strong family ties to Stanford University. Her father, Charles Chuck Taylor, was a star football player for Stanford in 1942 and went on to become the school's head football coach and athletic director. Janet elected the Hitchhike home, even though it wasn't a long journey from the campus to her

house. Her friends begged her to reconsider and stay overnight, but the strong-willed, independent Janet dismissed their concerns. At 7.05pm, she was spotted trying to hitch a ride at the intersection of Mayfield Avenue and Hunapero-Sara Boulevard south of the university. By 7.35pm, she was gone. The next morning, a milk delivery driver traveling across a bridge on Sand Hill Road, three miles west from Stanford University, caught sight of a young woman's body in a roadside ditch. Bruzmarks around her neck matched the design on her knitted turtleneck sweater, suggesting something had been pressed hard against it.

Meanwhile, Janet Taylor had failed to show up to work that day, causing her colleagues to become increasingly concerned. Janet's roommate had also noticed her unexplained absence and called the friends she'd had dinner with the evening prior. News reports were spreading about the discovery of the woman's body, and consumed with a feeling of unease, Janet's friends contacted the sheriff's office. Following this, authorities reached out to her parents and asked them to identify the body. Janet's parents confirmed that the victim was their daughter. She was mostly clothed except for her raincoat, belt and shoes, which were scattered every quarter mile along the roadside from her body.

There was no evidence of rape, though investigators suspected the crime was sexually motivated. They believed the perpetrator had picked Janet up the previous night under the guise of offering her the lift she desired, before attacking and killing her in his vehicle. He then disposed of her body into possessions along the stretch of road where she was later discovered. Janet had been hitchhiking less than a mile from where Leslie Perlov's car was discovered abandoned 13 months prior, and their bodies were found two miles apart. Both young women had been partially undressed, strangled and to left barefoot. Despite the parallels between the two murders, an inspector for San Mateo County Sheriff's

Department told the press no direct link had been established, stating, There are some circumstantial similarities and some dissimilarities. At this point, you can just about draw any conclusions you want. Nevertheless, many members of the public believed the two women shared the same killer. Investigators explored several leads in Janet's case, including a witness report of a nervous man seen near the entrance to Searsville Lake, not far from where Janet's body was found, at about 12.15am on the night of her abduction. A witness saw the man standing next to a white 1964 Pontiac Catalina and stopped to ask if he

had any problems with his car. When he said he did not, the witness drove away. Regarded as a slim lead, this inquiry went nowhere. By the next month of April, police conceded there had been no progress in the investigation, with one officer remarking, We don't know who we're looking for. We have no motive. Located in the main quadrangle at the center of Stanford University is the Memorial Church, regarded as the campus' architectural crown jewel. In 1903, the university's co-founder, Jane Stanford, dedicated the building to the memory of her husband to Leland.

She had two objectives for the church, to ensure that students had an opportunity to develop their ethics as well as their studies, and to provide comfort and strength to the wider community. The Stanford's were religious, but did not follow a particular denomination, and decreed the church to be open to all. Jane Stanford was deeply committed to the church's design, stating, While my whole heart is in the university, my soul is in that church. At her instruction, inspirational messages and religious inscriptions were carved into its walls and enclosed in its frameworks. One quotation, located in the church's east

transept, reads, Religion is intended as a comfort, a solace, a necessity to the soul's welfare, and whichever form of religion furnishes the greatest comfort, the greatest solace. It is the form which should be adopted, be its name, what it will. Built from buff sandstone and laid out in the shape of a cross, the ornate building has a terracotta tile roof, round turrets, low arches, and a colourful facade featuring artwork of Jesus Christ surrounded by worshipers. The interior is decorated with mosaic murals, stained glass windows, and purple velvet tapestries covering the walls. The church can seat 1,200 people and houses five organs,

rows of wooden pews, and a lectern. Students use the quiet, serene building as a place of reflection, and Catholic services are held there several times a week. Shortly after 5.30 am on Sunday, October 13, 1974, a Stanford University night watchman crossed the main quad and arrived at the memorial church to open its doors for the day. He entered the building via the west side door and walked through the nave of the church into the rear eastern transept. To the left of the altar, underneath a stained glass mosaic of a cross, he found the body of a young woman. When he phoned his supervisors to report the discovery, he remarked, Hey, we've got a stiff in here.

Arliss K. Dykema was born on February 22, 1955, in the town of Linton, North Dakota. She was the youngest of three children to parents Marvin and Jean, devout Christians who raised their children to be closely connected with the Presbyterian Church. In 1963, the Dykema family relocated to the state capital of Bismarck, a small, isolated city on the eastern banks of the Missouri River, surrounded by forests and an extensive network of hiking trails. Marvin and Jean ran an automotive company named Dykema's Standard and helped found the Bismarck Reformed Church, later renamed the Bismarck Community Church, where Marvin served as an elder and Sunday school superintendent. Arliss attended Bismarck High School, where she was

selected for the cheerleading squad three years in a row. She was described by her coach, Marge Hill, as a bubbly and enthusiastic cheerleader, but also was self-contained girl, who was easily frightened by violence and hostility. She was a popular student and often baked cupcakes for her fellow cheerleaders and the school's basketball team. Arliss inherited her parents' religious devotion and was deeply involved with her church community, which led to a somewhat sheltered life. She had a sense of naivety and was extremely trusting due to always seeing the best in people. On weekends, Arliss taught Sunday school and worked for Young Life, a Christian youth organization dedicated to spreading the word of Jesus Christ to adolescents and helping teenagers to develop

their faith. She was also a member of the International Non-Prophet Sports Ministry Fellowship of Christian Athletes, or the FCA. It was through the FCA that Arliss met and fell in love with Bruce Perry, a fellow Bismarck-high student who shared her religious beliefs and athletic prowess, setting state records in track and field for the 100 and 220-yard sprints. Bruce was born and raised in Bismarck as the second of four children to his homemaker-mother Donna and dentist father, Dr Duncan Perry. His childhood was one of comfort and he grew up into a fun-loving, popular teenager who was fascinated by anthropology and different cultures. In 1973, Arliss and Bruce graduated high school. Based on his athletic performance,

Bruce was accepted into Stanford University and enrolled as a pre-med student majoring in human biology. Arliss remained in Bismarck, attending classes at junior college and working as a receptionist at the dental clinic owned by Bruce's father. The young couple maintained a long-distance relationship and in May of 1974, Bruce returned to Bismarck to ask for Arliss's hand in marriage. The dichomers had mixed feelings about the engagement as they weren't happy about Arliss having to move far away from family and friends to California. However, when they saw how thrilled the young couple were, they supported the marriage wholeheartedly. The wedding was held on August 17, 1974 at the Bismarck Reformed Church. Afterwards, the 19-year-old newlyweds enjoyed a one-week

honeymoon in a rustic log cabin owned by the dichomers and in September, Arliss embarked on the 1600-mile journey to Stanford with Bruce. They moved into Quillen Hall in Stanford's Escondido Village, an apartment block designated to house married couples, and Bruce began his sophomore year. It was the first time Arliss had ever been away from home and she missed her support network. While Bruce was busy studying and working part-time, Arliss struggled to adjust to her new life. She was used to living in a small, close-knit community and found Stanford lonely and isolating. She wrote a letter home which read, Friends are hard to find here. Many times I've been tempted to go knock on doors asking if anyone

needs a friend. But I guess we just have to appreciate each other and trust the Lord for new friends too. Arliss accepted a job as a receptionist at a Palo Alto law firm and slowly began to adapt, becoming a member of the Stanford Church and spending time with Bruce whenever their schedules allowed. When her husband was busy, Arliss took long walks or jogs around the University campus and occasionally visited the Memorial Church to pray. Oftentimes she would head out alone at night but stopped after Bruce warned her it wasn't safe to do so. On the evening of Saturday, October 12, 1974, Arliss busied herself around the apartment while Bruce studied. At around 11.30pm, Bruce agreed to accompany Arliss to post some letters addressed

to her family and friends in Bismarck as it would afford the couple some time together and he didn't want her going out alone at night. It was Columbus Day, a national holiday marking the anniversary of Christopher Columbus' arrival to America and the University was a hive of activity with rowdy people milling about and music playing loudly from student residences. As Arliss and Bruce walked across campus, they got into a minor argument over their car tyre which had been losing pressure lately and disagreed over who was responsible for pumping it up. By the time they had posted the letters, it was approximately 11.50pm. Still upset by their argument, Arliss told Bruce she wanted to visit the Memorial Church alone to

pray. This was not unusual as they both visited the church when they needed to reflect and ask for guidance. The building was open until midnight and located only half a mile from the Perry's apartment. Back at the apartment, Bruce awaited Arliss's return but by 12.30am there was no sign of her. He returned to the church but it was now closed for the night and all the doors were locked. He fruitlessly searched the campus before going home again, finding their apartment empty. At 3am, he reported Arliss missing, expressing his concern as he knew she had no friends in town and there was nowhere else she could have gone. He suggested that she might have accidentally fallen asleep inside the church and been locked in by mistake so some officers were dispatched

to check the building. As it was still securely locked, they were only able to survey its exterior but noticed nothing suspicious. The situation appeared to be a relatively benign domestic dispute and the officers presumed Arliss would reappear once she had calmed down. Approximately two and a half hours later, Stanford University night watchman Stephen Crawford came across Arliss's body in the memorial church. She was on her back with her arms folded across her chest and her legs spread. Her head was facing the altar and her body was partially underneath the first pew with a kneeling pillow nearby. She was still wearing her dark brown jacket though her tan sweater had been pushed up to expose her chest. Her underwear

and blue jeans had been removed with the pants draped over her lower body and the legs facing towards her head. Markings on her neck were consistent with an attempted strangulation and her glasses were missing. Given they were a valueless item, it was speculated her killer had taken them as a morbid trophy. Arliss had been sexually assaulted using two 36 inch long altar candles, one of which was still partially inserted inside her body. The other had been placed between her breasts. There was no sign of a struggle indicating Arliss had been caught off guard by her killer. Her time of death was estimated to have been around midnight, shortly after she entered the church. The assault with the candles was believed to have

occurred afterwards. The pointed end of an ice pick was still embedded in an open head wound just above her left ear, though the weapon's handle had snapped off. As it was not bound at the crime scene, it was presumed the killer had taken it away. Although a small bone in Arliss's neck had been broken, it was determined that the ice pick injury had caused her death. A partial palm print of unknown origin was also found on one of the altar candles, a significant find before the introduction of DNA analysis, although it was indistinct. The police arrived at the Perry's apartment just after dawn. Bruce answered the door, wearing a blood-covered shirt. He explained he had used his clothing to stop a nosebleed,

which he was prone to getting during times of high anxiety. He wasn't immediately informed of Arliss's murder, but was asked to attend the police station to file a missing person report. Bruce was questioned for two hours, with investigators presenting him with different scenarios to see how he would react. He was staunchly defensive when it was suggested that he had lashed out at Arliss upon discovering she was having an affair or had fallen pregnant. Bruce voluntarily provided his fingerprints and agreed to undergo a polygraph test, all the while repeatedly asking, where's my wife? When he passed the polygraph, the police finally informed him that Arliss had been killed.

Sunday mass at the memorial church went ahead at 11 o'clock the following morning. The congregation, which included journalists and grieving students, were seated on folding chairs placed on the front lawn to preserve the crime scene inside. They were told of Arliss's murder and asked to join in a silent prayer. According to reports, Dean of the Stanford Chapel, Reverend Robert Hamilton Kelly, had seen Arliss's body and expressed his belief that its treatment appeared symbolic as though the murder had been part of a satanic ritual. He told the congregation that he refused to let evil triumph and church services would continue as normal. That evening,

a Catholic priest blessed the building to cleanse it of malevolent forces. The FBI constructed a profile of Arliss's killer, describing him as a loner with a possible military background, aged between 17 and 22, who kept a detailed diary and collected his victims' possessions as trophies. When asked what he remembered about the night of Sunday, October 13, Bruce Perry couldn't recall anyone watching or following him or Arliss when they went their separate ways in the main quad. Two people who were in the memorial church when Arliss Perry entered said she had walked to the front pews on the left-hand side of the altar, then knelt down to pray. She was still

deep in prayer when they left at midnight. A passerby who had been outside reported seeing a Caucasian man with sandy-colored hair parted to the left and to the church around this time. He was approximately 25 years old, had a medium build, and was casually dressed in a royal blue short-sleeved shirt. Night watchman Stephen Crawford said he had been running late to lock up the church, arriving at ten minutes past midnight. He entered the rear of the building and couldn't see anyone inside, but just in case he yelled out, we're closing for the night, the church is being locked. If anyone is here, you'll have to leave. When nobody responded, he closed and locked the doors.

Due to the extent of Arliss's injuries, it seemed unlikely that her assault occurred in the ten-minute window between when the other churchgoers left and the building was secured. That was plausible that when Stephen Crawford called out to see if anyone was still inside, the perpetrator may have already confronted Arliss and forced her silence. This theory aligned with a statement given by another witness. Sometime between 12.15 and 12.30 a.m., a man passing the church thought he heard a noise coming from inside the building towards the choir loft. He paused to listen, but heard nothing further, so assumed he'd imagined it and kept walking.

When Stephen Crawford returned to the church at around 5.30 a.m. to open it up again, he approached the west side door and noticed it was partially open. The lock appeared to have been broken open from the inside and he suspected a robbery had taken place. After entering cautiously, he discovered Arliss's body, though no one else was inside. Investigators were also informed there was a window in one of the church restrooms that didn't lock and might have provided a covert access point for Arliss's killer. It was possible they entered via the unlocked window and then broke out through the west side door. Crawford claimed that during his shift he entered the church at 2.00 a.m. to conduct a routine check.

At that time, the west side door was locked and he noted nothing of concern inside. As Arliss was killed shortly after midnight, this assertion didn't fit with the police timeline, as Crawford would have encountered her killer or her body if he entered the church at 2.00 a.m. It was believed that Crawford did not conduct his 2.00 a.m. check, but claimed he did, so to cover up his own negligence in failing to carry out his duties. Due to his ability to access the building, Stephen Crawford was considered a suspect, but was ruled out after passing a polygraph test and when it was determined that his palm print didn't match the one on the altar candle found with Arliss's body.

Robert Hammett and Kelly, dean of the Stanford Chapel, raised suspicions as he too had access to the building at all times, but he also passed a polygraph and his palm print wasn't a match. In total, more than 100 palm prints were lifted from various surfaces throughout the church, but none matched the one on the candle. Seven people were identified as having visited the memorial church on the night Arliss was killed, including Arliss herself. Each person of interest was identified and subsequently cleared, except for the sandy-haired man in the royal blue shirt. The Arliss Perry case marked the third unsolved murder of a young woman on or near Stanford

University in less than two years. A $10,000 reward resulted in a few tip-offs from the public, but none offered any useful leads. On Tuesday, October 15, a memorial service was held for Arliss inside the memorial church, where the crime scene was still cordoned off with rope. Reverend Hammett and Kelly told the 180 people in attendance, Arliss Perry died in this church, the victim of violence and perversion. We are in a conflict with evil, there is a battle going on, but only love can win that battle. If it were to turn us from love to hate, from love to bitterness, then evil would have triumphed. The Reverend described how Arliss was now a part of their place of worship, stating,

she fills the church with her glorious presence, before detailing her devotion to Christ and how she and her husband planned to embark on missionary work upon Bruce's graduation from Stanford. From his seat in the front pew, Bruce Perry maintained his composure, but eventually broke down when music by the German composer Bach was played on one of the church organs. He managed to join in singing the final hymn before the Reverend told the mourners not to be overcome with sorrow, bitterness or a vengeful spirit. Upon the conclusion of the service, Bruce hastily left the church through a rear door. Three days later, Arliss's funeral was held in her hometown at the Bismarck Reformed Church,

where she and Bruce were wed just two months earlier. For many of her family, friends and community, the celebration had been the last time they saw her alive. Reverend Don de Cock officiated, reading passages from Arliss's personal Bible that she had underlined and marked with the word nice, including the phrases, the Lord is my shepherd, the Lord is my light and my salvation, whom shall I fear? Arliss's close friend Peggy, who had been a bridesmaid at her wedding, told the press. Arliss was a good friend. I loved her a lot. She was serious and quiet, but she cared a lot about people, and what mattered to her most was her Lord and Bruce. I have watched her grow.

I've seen how the Lord has worked in her life, and I know she's with him. A temporary grave marker was placed on Arliss's burial plot, while her family awaited construction of a permanent tombstone. Two weeks after her funeral, the grave marker was stolen. This prompted theories that the killer was a Bismarck resident who'd followed Arliss to California with the intention of killing her, and had then returned to take the grave marker as another morbid trophy. The idea that Arliss knew her killer wasn't without merit, with some suspecting he was a scorned ex-boyfriend or an obsessed stalker. The day before Arliss's murder, a colleague witnessed her in the waiting room of their law office, having a serious and intense

conversation with a man in his early 20s. The co-worker originally thought it was Arliss's husband, but later saw Bruce Perry at a memorial service, and realized he was not the man from the waiting room. Arliss and the unknown man spoke for about 15 minutes, and when she returned to work, she seemed noticeably sad, but didn't mention the encounter to anyone. Her visitor was described as approximately five foot ten inches tall, with an athletic build, broad shoulders, and short curly blonde hair. This description bore similarities to the seventh unidentified person in the vicinity of the memorial church when Arliss was inside praying, the man in the royal blue shirt. Bruce confirmed he had never stopped by at Arliss's workplace, as she had specifically

asked him not to visit until she had settled in to her new job. She hadn't mentioned any strange encounters, though Bruce was certain that she would likely keep such an incident to herself to avoid upsetting him. He was unable to identify the man Arliss was speaking with. In their book Bloody Ivy, 13 Unsolved Campus Murders, authors Chris and Harry Babonich speculated that Arliss's killer may not have planned to commit murder that night, due to the opportunistic nature of her slaying and the fact that he left behind vital evidence. They proposed that the perpetrator might have been a vagrant who was using the church as a refuge, or a vandal who planned to desecrate the Holy Sanctuary.

Perhaps he was behaving suspiciously and Arliss confronted him. Perhaps he was attracted to her and an argument began. In any case, the confrontation had turned physical before Stephen Crawford entered to close the church. Hearing Crawford approach, the attacker subdued Arliss either by holding his hand over her mouth or by threatening her with the ice pick, and hid until Crawford left the church. Dean of the Stanford Chapel, Reverend Robert Hamilton Kelly, had since denied making statements that Arliss's murder resembled a satanic ritual, explaining that her injuries and the crime scene didn't have the elements one would typically expect from such a slaughter.

Nevertheless, the theory had stuck, and at one point, Sheriff Lieutenant Robert Barthou told the media that police were exploring all possibilities, including that the murder was carried out for this purpose. Some reports claimed her body was posed with her knees bent and ankles drawn together, creating the points of a pentagram. Others said her genes had been arranged in a manner that resembled the symbol of the world's largest secret society, the Freemasons. Investigators dismissed these assertions by clarifying that Arliss's legs were left straight, not formed into a diamond shape like many incorrectly believed. In Bismarck, word spread that during the year Bruce was living at Stanford on his own,

Arliss and a friend had travelled to the neighbouring town of Mandan, North Dakota. The pair aimed to convert members of a local satanic cult to Christianity as part of their work with the Young Life Organization. The alleged cult, the Process Church of the Final Judgement, was a religious group associated with Scientology and Satanism, and its members were rumoured to carry out rituals in parks and caves throughout Bismarck. One local recalled people visiting the town wearing priest robes with red collars and necklaces with upside-down crosses. Detectives ruled out this theory after it couldn't be confirmed that Arliss had ever visited the Process Church group. They publicly denounced the satanic ritual angle

with a spokesperson telling the press. It's a typical, if there is such a thing, sexual psychopathic slaying that has no cult-like overtones. It just happened to occur in a church. Arliss Perry's murder bore similarities to the unsolved murders of Leslie Perlov and Janet Taylor, as all three women were targeted in Stanford by a sexual psychopath. Furthermore, witnesses had described seeing a blonde-haired man at both Leslie and Arliss' crime scenes shortly before their murders. Yet, there were also notable differences between the attacks. Arliss was the only victim in which the killer employed the use of a weapon, whereas Leslie and Janet had been strangled with their own clothing or the perpetrator's hands. Additionally, Leslie and Janet were

considered low-risk attacks as both were confronted in isolated areas with few people about. Arliss' attack was the opposite. It was incredibly high risk, given the amount of foot traffic around the main quad on the public holiday, including a watchman whose role was to intermittently check the memorial church throughout the night. Despite this, many Stanford residents were unable to shake the feeling that a serial killer was active in the area. In the early hours of August 16, 1975, 10 months after Arliss Perry's murder, Utah Highway Patrol officer Bob Haywood was scouting the Salt Lake City community of Granger when he spotted a distinct, green-colored 1968 Volkswagen Beetle cruising down a residential

street with its lights off. Officer Haywood recognized the driver and ordered him to stop, but he fled the area at high speed. After a short chase, the car was brought to a halt, and a search of the vehicle uncovered a ski mask, a second mask fashioned from pantyhose, a crowbar, handcuffs, trash bags, a coil of rope, an ice pick, and other items assumed to be burglary tools. The driver, 28-year-old Ted Bundy, was a suspect in a long list of unsolved homicides of women and young girls that had taken place across several states throughout the preceding years. Bundy, one of America's most infamous and prolific sexual sadist serial killers, confessed to 30 homicides, though many believe the true number of his victims was higher.

Investigators for the unsolved murders of Leslie Perlov, Janet Taylor, and Arliss Perry suspected Bundy may have been responsible for those deaths as he had studied at Stanford University in the late 60s and was familiar with the area. Several of his crimes were committed on college campuses and he had visited California's Bay Area on multiple occasions between 1973 and 74, the time of the Stanford murders. Bundy was interviewed in relation to Arliss Perry's murder, but had an airtight alibi in the form of a credit card statement, proving he was filling up his Volkswagen at a gas station out of town at the time. He was also questioned about Leslie Perlov and Janet Taylor, but was ultimately ruled out as a suspect in those crimes too.

Four years after Arliss's murder in 1978, police in her home state of North Dakota received a letter from Attica Correctional Facility in New York. According to the letter, the process church of the final judgment hired a hitman to kill Arliss Perry after she had tried to convert them to Christianity. The author of the letter was identified as 24-year-old David Berkowitz, also known as Son of Sam. He was serving six life sentences for the murders of six women in New York between 1976 and 77. On October 23, 1979, Berkowitz sent a policeman from North Dakota a book about Satanism in which he had written, Arliss Perry, hunted, stalked and slain, followed to California, Stanford University. Two sergeants from the Santa Clara County Sheriff's Department

traveled to New York to interview Berkowitz. He denied any involvement with Arliss's murder, explaining that the only information he had about the crime came from newspaper articles that had been sent to him. When asked if he had spoken to the person who had murdered Arliss, Berkowitz became visibly nervous and avoided answering the question. After speaking with the police for 30 minutes, he expressed concerns that other inmates would think he was working as an informant and terminated the interview. The sergeants concluded Berkowitz had nothing of value to offer their investigation and disregarded his claims. Other notorious serial killers were investigated as possible suspects in the Stanford murders, including co-ed killer Ed Kemper, who was active

in the Santa Cruz region, 40 miles south of Stanford, up until his surrender in April 1973. Kemper's murder-sopper and I involved picking up hitchhiking female college students and taking them to isolated areas where he would kill them, sometimes via strangulation. Although the date of his arrest ruled him out for Janet and Arliss's murders, he was free at the time Leslie was killed. Two of his victims, 18-year-olds Mary Pash and Anita LaCassa, killed in May 1972, had accepted a ride from Kemper under the pretext of being taken to Stanford University. Kemper, who was infamously forthright and meticulous when speaking of his crimes to authorities after his capture, did not confess to killing Leslie.

In 1987, 13 years after Arliss's murder, a controversial book by investigative reporter Maury Terry titled The Ultimate Evil put the case back under the spotlight. Terry explored multiple theories and criticized investigators for not further exploring the possible link between Arliss and the process church. He proposed that she had been followed from Bismarck to California by a church member, and he was the man arguing with her at her workplace the day before her death. Terry honed in on son of Sam killer David Berkowitz as likely knowing pertinent information relating to the crime. According to Terry, on the night of her murder, Arliss may have intentionally picked a fight with Bruce as it gave her an excuse to request

time alone to pray. Instead, she had planned to meet the mystery man from her past in the church. Even though authorities had dismissed rumors that Arliss's killing was satanic in nature, Terry remained convinced that it had been a ritualistic slaying. He pinpointed a series of caves behind Bismarck's University of Mary as a favoured ritual site for the process church, prompting locals to search the location for evidence. Due to the influx of visitors, the caves had to be filled in, which in turn caused the panic as people assumed it confirmed that a satanic cult was operating nearby. The book sent shockwaves throughout the Bismarck community. Local bookstores quickly

sold out of their copies, and the library amassed a staggering waitlist, leading it to decrease its usual checkout time from four weeks to two weeks just to keep up with the demand. In the year after its release, the number of people on the waitlist stayed at about 50. In April of 1989, Maury Terry travelled to Bismarck to host a discussion about his book. The venue had to be changed at the last minute because the 1,000 capacity auditorium sold out, with lions circling around the block. Reverent Don de Coq, who had officiated Arliss's funeral, condemned the book, saying it offered no new information, but simply opened old wounds for her grieving family. Following his wife's murder, Bruce Perry took leave from Stanford

University and spent the subsequent months visiting friends interstate who urged him to return to his studies. Bruce later told the Chicago reader newspaper, I had to get in control of what had happened instead of having the event control me. When anyone is traumatized, they've got to make that transition away from being a victim. Something had happened that was completely out of my control. I had to get away from feeling that because unpredictable, uncontrollable things happen, I might as well not do anything. He returned to Stanford and resumed his course, but was overwhelmed by the sympathy he received. He then transferred to Amherst College in Massachusetts and studied neuroscience,

eventually obtaining a degree in medicine. In 1984, Bruce undertook a residency in psychiatry at the prestigious Yale University, where he studied the brain chemistry of war veterans with major depression. He accepted a fellowship in child and adolescent psychology at the University of Chicago and became a renowned psychiatrist specializing in PTSD, trauma, and empathy, publishing two books on the matter. He also remarried and had children. In 1992, he reflected on the impact of Alice's murder to the Chicago reader, quote, I couldn't imagine anything worse to experience and I saw I could live through even this and be happy. I felt older. I felt free to be whatever I wanted to be. I thought about the external

trappings of our culture and the things we value and don't value. I found that many of the things I cared about doing well at were really pretty empty. I put more effort into my relationships because I knew that's what's really enduring. Tests were carried out on the bloodstained shirt Bruce was wearing when police visited him the morning of Alice's murder. He claimed the blood was his own, sourced from a nosebleed, and results confirmed it didn't match Alice's blood type, nor did his palm print match the one on the altar candle. In 2004, any lingering suspicions that Bruce was responsible for Alice's death were finally put to rest when he submitted a DNA sample that proved conclusively he was not her killer.

In June 2016, an article published in the New York Post reported that a 64-year-old man named Bruce McCracken had come forward claiming he was in Stanford's Memorial Church on the night Alice Perry was killed. McCracken said he was walking past the church around midnight when he heard strange flute music coming from inside and entered to check it out. On the lectern, he saw a young, skinny white male whom he recognized as a member of Stanford's marching band. The male was wearing a light-colored Afro-style wig and playing a large silver flute. A young Caucasian woman was lying naked on the altar with candles burning on either side of her, looking upwards. The flutist didn't look happy to see McCracken, but the woman, who looked

very similar to Alice, turned her head towards him and smiled. Thinking they were playing some kind of game, McCracken left the church and didn't give it much thought. He later read about Alice Perry's murder, but failed to realize it had occurred the same night he interrupted the flute player and therefore never thought to report it to the police. Decades later, in 2011, while speaking to a retired police officer about strange things he had experienced while on the beat, Bruce remembered the incident at the Memorial Church. He searched online for a picture of Stanford's marching band from 1974, eventually finding a picture of the flutist. I finally saw his face and his eyes, those intense eyes. As soon as I saw the picture, I knew it was him.

Bruce informed the Santa Clara County Sheriff's Department, and two detectives tracked down the flutist as he played a concert in Thousand Oaks, California. The detectives posed as reporters and arranged to meet the man under the guise of wanting to interview him about his career. The musician mentioned the Afro wig he had worn during his days in the Stanford marching band, confirming he had owned the hairpiece described by Bruce McCracken. He soon became suspicious and ended the interview, saying he would never return to perform in California again. A spokesperson for the Santa Clara Sheriff's Department maintained that the musician was not being considered a suspect, but would reevaluate his status should DNA evidence come to light.

When confronted by the New York Post, the unnamed musician vehemently denied any involvement in Arliss's murder, quote, I've never been involved in anything criminal in my entire life. I've been very lucky that way. As forensic testing technology advanced over the years, items recovered from the Arliss Perry crime scene were routinely reanalyzed by the County Crime Lab. In 2016, in a much needed breakthrough, they located the DNA profile of an unknown male on the jeans Arliss had been wearing on the night of her death. Over the next two years, police from the Santa Clara County Sheriff's Office tracked down and re-interviewed everyone who was in the vicinity of Stanford's Memorial Church on the night of Sunday, October 12, 1974, obtaining fingerprints and DNA samples from each.

They ruled them out one by one, leaving just one possible suspect remaining. Former Stanford night watchman Stephen Blake Crawford was now 72 years old and in poor health. He lived alone in San Jose, approximately 25 miles from the university, surviving on social security and his leftover retirement funds. He had remained a person of interest in the Arliss Perry investigation over the years, but he had passed a polygraph. His palm print didn't match the one found on an altar candle used in her attack, and with no further evidence or motive to link him to the crime, police had no grounds to make an arrest. They kept in contact with Crawford, occasionally re-interviewing him, but nothing ever surfaced that implicated him.

Crawford had served in the US Air Force before working as a police officer for Stanford University's Department of Public Safety. In 1971, the department underwent a drastic reduction following the appointment of a new police chief. 75% of staff lost their jobs, including Crawford. He was forced to hand in his gun and was reappointed as a night watch campus security guard, a demotion that he bitterly complained about. He held the job until 1976, before leaving to work security elsewhere. Members of a square dance group Crawford belonged to nicknamed him the Prevaricator, for his habit of lying and exaggerating stories. In one instance, he told them his parents died

in a car crash when he was young, when in reality, they died in separate incidents when he was in his early twenties. In 1992, Crawford's ex-wife reported him for forging a fake diploma using a blank certificate he had stolen from Stanford University. A search of his home revealed he had also stolen up to 300 rare and valuable books from the university library, including leather-bound Latin texts dating back to the 16th century, as well as priceless photos and artifacts from the Department of Anthropology. Among the items were a cane belonging to the university's founder Leland Stanford and a skull. When asked why he stole the items, Crawford said he simply liked old things and took them in retaliation for being considered a suspect in the Alice Perry murder.

Given the books were valued in the hundreds of thousands of dollars, the theft was considered a felony. Crawford pleaded guilty to receiving stolen property and was given a six-month suspended sentence with two years probation. He began working as an insurance adjuster and lived a quiet, somewhat reclusive life, having no further run-ins with the law. On the morning of Thursday, June 28, 2018, detectives arrived at Crawford's ground floor studio apartment to place him under arrest and execute a search warrant in the hopes of gathering further evidence to link him to Alice Perry's murder. When they knocked on the front door, Crawford told them to wait a moment while he got dressed. After several minutes,

the detectives suspected he was intentionally stalling and let themselves in using a master key they had obtained from the building's manager. Inside, they confronted Crawford, who was sitting on his bed holding a handgun. The detectives immediately retreated and moments later, the sound of a gunshot rang out. Crawford was found on the floor with a self-inflicted gunshot wound to his head. A search of his apartment uncovered the dust jacket from a hardback copy of Maury Terry's 1987 book The Ultimate Evil in a folder with other papers. On a computer table a foot away from the bed was a hastily written suicide note dated two years earlier, indicating he had expected this moment for quite some time. The note was difficult to read

and made no mention of Alice, but coincided with a time period when detectives recommenced interrogating Crawford in relation to her murder. It was suspected that he had targeted Alice to exact revenge against Stanford University following his demotion years earlier. Stephen Crawford's DNA was compared to the DNA of Alice Perry's killer, resulting in a match, and the 44-year-old unsolved case was finally closed. That afternoon, police held a press conference to announce the news, with Sheriff Laurie Smith thanking the cold case detectives for their unrelenting work in solving the decades-old crime and finally obtaining closure for Alice's family.

Standing alongside an enlarged photograph of Alice, Sheriff Smith told the assembled reporters, this is a case that eludes us no longer. Lead detective Sergeant Richard Alanis kept this picture of Alice Perry with him as a constant reminder that her life and this case had value. Alice's sister Karen said she had no doubt the police would solve the case one day and wasn't surprised to learn that Crawford was the killer, as his story had changed throughout the years and he was a known liar. Alice's father Marvin had passed away three and a half months prior to the breakthrough. Her mother Jean, who was now 88 years old, was heartbroken that her husband had died without ever knowing who had killed their daughter, as he had been desperate to

find out the truth. Taking comfort in her religious beliefs, Jean said, I know there is someone far greater that will punish this person. I don't have to do that. Alice Perry's cold case file had long been associated with the unsolved murder of Leslie Perlov and Janet Taylor. Due to the similarities between crime scenes, many suspected Leslie, Janet and Alice had fallen victim to the same killer, though they were never formally linked. Santa Clara County Sheriff Laurie Smith initially stated that although investigators did not think Stephen Crawford was connected to any other unsolved local homicides, they left the possibility open. Quote, In homicides, even cold cases, we have a warehouse

of evidence. We keep the evidence for life, even when there's a conviction. Forensic evidence collected from Leslie Perlov's crime scene was submitted for re-analysis, and that too resulted in a key DNA discovery. The evidence was sourced from underneath Leslie's fingernails and was a mismatch for Stephen Crawford, ruling out the possibility that Alice and Leslie's murders were carried out by the same perpetrator. Using similar methods that helped identify the alleged Golden State killer in April 2018, detectives sent the sample off to Parabon Nano Labs, a Virginia-based medical lab that combines DNA testing with the genealogical databases to map an unknown suspect to their relatives and

ancestors. They matched the DNA sample with members belonging to the Getru family, prompting investigators to search through the Getru family tree to identify someone whose history aligned with the circumstances surrounding Leslie's murder. In 1973, John Arthur Getru worked as a medical technician in Stanford University's campus hospital in the heart transplant unit. Getru had a violent criminal history dating back to 1963, when his family were stationed in Germany for his father's work with the United States military. On the evening of June 8, 18-year-old Getru encountered 15-year-old Margot Williams, the daughter of the Army chaplain, as she was leaving a church dance on base. The following morning, Margot was found strangled and raped in

a field behind the church. Getru was identified as a suspect immediately, and his arrest soon followed. He admitted to the crime in court, stating, I raped her, but it did not occur to me that I could have killed her. I just wanted to knock her out. He was convicted and sentenced to 10 years in prison. Yet, because he was a foreigner and considered a juvenile under German law, the court said that he could be released on parole after serving two years and returned to America. By 1972, Getru was living and working in Palo Alto as a security guard for California Plant Protection Services. His criminal past was a secret to those around him. In 1975, two years after Leslie Perlov was murdered, Getru targeted a 17-year-old member

of the Scouts Explorer troupe in Palo Alto. Getru became involved in the group as a scout leader, taking the children to dances and other events while acting as their guardian. He had befriended his latest victim over a six-month period and on the night of January 19, arrived at her home while her parents were not there. After talking to her for about two hours, Getru pushed her under the couch and began assaulting her. When she threatened to cry out for help, he put his hand around her neck and squeezed, threatening, don't do that. I have my hand at your throat and I could hurt you. Getru pleaded guilty to statutory rape and was sentenced to six-months jail, five of which were suspended. He was ordered to pay a $200 fine and served his remaining 30

days in jail on weekends. John Getru's DNA was obtained from items he discarded and was compared to evidence recovered from the Leslie Perlov crime scene. Not only was there a match, the subsequent DNA report stated, The probability that a random, unrelated individual could be included as a possible contributor to this deduced profile was approximately one in 65 septillion. This figure would be the number 65 followed by 24 zeros. On November 20, 2018, the now 74-year-old grandfather, carpenter and scout leader was placed under arrest at his home in Haywood, approximately 21 miles from Stanford and charged with the first-degree murder of Leslie Perlov. Over the past 45 years, cold case detectives

had remained in touch with the Perlov family, updating them on their efforts to find Leslie's killer. As the eldest of three children, Leslie was regarded as her sibling's protector. She had once shared a bedroom with her sister Diane and the pair traded clothes, secrets and laughter. When she left for Stanford, Diane had cried. Leslie's brother Craig told the media, I still miss Leslie. She was a brilliant, kind and loving person. Leslie's mother Florence had died four years earlier and never sought grief counseling as she felt the hole in her heart could never heal. In November 2018, Diane received a call from a detective sergeant informing her, we got him. She attended Gertrude's bail hearing that same

month and pleaded to the court that he'd be denied bail. Diane looked directly at Gertrude, who steadfastly averted his gaze and told him the scarf tied around Leslie's neck that day was mine. Diane went on to explain how she could no longer walk alone in the woods, wear a scarf or let anyone touch her neck. Quote, I want you to know that murder does not just affect the deceased. It changes many lives. It takes many lives and impacts a family forever. And while justice doesn't heal all wounds, it is the least we can do. The presiding judge agreed with Diane and refused Gertrude bail, instead ordering that he be held in the Santa Clara County Jail to await trial.

While Gertrude was in custody, clothing belonging to Janet Taylor was also re-submitted for a more thorough forensic examination, and semen staining was discovered within a torn seam in the crotch of the green corduroy pants she was wearing at the time of her death. The DNA profile obtained from the staining was found to have a 1 in 34,800 chance of coming from anyone but John Gertrude. On May 16, 2019, Gertrude was also charged with Janet Taylor's murder. In a statement, Janet's family said, Janet lived life with enthusiasm and courage. As a spunky, fun-loving, youngest of three children, she added much laughter and joy to our family. She loved animals and

cherished her friends. We have missed being able to have her in our lives. Janet's future was bright. It would have been wonderful to see what she would have done. We can't ever know all that we missed, but whatever she pursued, Janet would have served others with passion and kindness. We're grateful today for the diligent, meticulous work of the law enforcement officers whose efforts have resulted in today's announcement. They've done this difficult work with integrity and excellence and with compassion for our family. Gertrude has pleaded not guilty to wall charges and is currently awaiting trial.

He will be held to penalties in effect at the time of the murders, with the maximum sentence for homicide in the early 70s being seven years to life. Given his age and the amount of time that has lapsed since the crimes, court officials are prioritizing his cases. He will first stand trial for Leslie Perlov's murder in September 2020. John Getru is also being investigated as a suspect in other run-solved crimes. Senator Clara County Sheriff Laurie Smith expects that the modern DNA techniques used to capture Stephen Crawford and John Getru will help solve the 100-plus cold cases in the county dating back to 1946. Quote,

Because we have this technology, we want to hit all of these cases while the suspects are still alive. Shortly after Arliss was murdered, Bruce Perry spoke of his late wife to the Chicago Reader. Quote, I had long periods of pain and sadness and of thinking how unfair it seemed. I tried to think about what it was that would make a human being do this. There was a lot of anger initially, but I didn't know where to direct it, since I didn't know what exactly had happened. You sort of had to make something up to get angry at. Then I just quit doing that. It was getting in the way of me being able to move on.

When I accepted the fact that death was a part of life, it did not matter that much anymore what the person who killed her looked like or was like. Bruce Perry is currently a senior fellow of the Child Trauma Academy in Houston, Texas, and an adjunct professor in psychiatry and behavioral sciences at Chicago's Feinberg School of Medicine. He has worked as a consultant with the FBI on many high-profile cases involving traumatized children and has appeared on the Oprah Winfrey show speaking about how adverse early experiences can lead to physical and mental challenges later in life. He believes his ordeal helps him identify and empathize with his patients.

Arliss Perry was late to rest at the Sunset Memorial Gardens in her hometown of Bismarck. On the day of her funeral, Reverend Donda Koch told the gathering of 300 mourners. Somebody is going to say that Arliss didn't have a chance to learn what life is all about. On the contrary, Arliss knew exactly what life is all about. That it is full of joy and full of sorrow, of victory and trials, and that man is a mere breath, his days like a passing shadow.