Casefile True Crime - Case 337: Test A.rtf (Part 1/4)

Episode Date: March 7, 2026

[Part 1 of 4]*** Content warning: child victims ***The quiet suburban life of Wichita, Kansas, was shattered in 1974 when four members of the Otero family, Joe, Julie and their two youngest children, Josie and Joey, were found brutally murdered in their home. Nine months later, a letter was discovered inside a public library book that contained detailed, accurate, insider-knowledge about the crime. Worse still, the writer claimed responsibility for the murders and threatened to kill again.---Narration – Anonymous HostResearch & writing – Milly RasoProduction & music – Mike MigasAudio editing – Anthony TelferSign up for Casefile Premium:Apple PremiumSpotify PremiumPatreonFor all credits and sources, please visit https://casefilepodcast.com/case-337-test-a-rtf-part-1-4 Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

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 and for a more detailed list of content warnings, please see the show notes for this episode on your app or on our website. Today's episode involves crimes against children and won't be suitable for all listeners. Hello, Charlie O'Tero called out. Is anybody home? It was around 3.30pm on Tuesday, January 15, 1974, and 15-year-old Charlie had just returned home from school. The Otero family of 7 lived on the corner of East Murdoch Avenue and

North Edgemore Street in the quiet eastern suburbs of Wichita, Kansas. Their modest whitewood frame bungalow should have been full of life that afternoon. 38-year-old patriarch Joe Otero was taking time off work as an airplane mechanic and flight instructor to recover from a car accident that had left him with several cracked ribs. His 33-year-old wife, Julie, had been temporarily laid off as an assembler at a camping equipment factory until business picked up again. The couple's four youngest children, 9-year-old, Joey, 11-year-old Josie, 13-year-old Carmen, and 14-year-old Danny should have been home from school

by the time Charlie arrived. Instead, he was met with an inexplicable silence. A few other things had struck him as odd. His mother's beige 1966 Oldsmobile Vista Cruiser station wagon was missing from the driveway, but the garage door was wide open, allowing the blustery winter winds, to sweep snow inside. Charlie figured she must have rushed out and forgotten to close it, though it was unlike his meticulous mother to be so careless. He also noticed Lucky the Otero's large, short-haired, brown boxer dog had been left outside alone in the backyard.

Lucky disliked the cold and was usually only let out when guests visited since he was protective and barked at strangers. The inside of the Otero home appeared mostly neat and orderly, though several items were noticeably out of place. A gallon of milk had been left out on the kitchen sink's drainboard with the receiver of the wall-mounted telephone next to it. Open cans of fruit and meat spread were set out on the nearby table next to a knife and an unsealed half-loaf of bread. Several slices had been smeared with the meat spread, a staple duly often. packed for her children's school lunches, though Josie's lunchbox was in the kitchen empty. It appeared the family had abruptly vanished mid-breakfast, leaving behind several important belongings.

Josie and Joey's winter coats were draped over a chair, and Joe's shoes were tucked under the kitchen table. Stranger still, Joe's wallet had been stripped of its contents and tossed on the stovetop, while Julie's brown leather purse lay up turned on the living room floor, its belongings scattered across the carpet. Julie Otero was a tidy woman. She would never have left her house in such disarray. When Charlie called out asking if anyone was home, a sound emerged from deeper inside the house. It was the urgent and confused voice of one of his younger siblings.

Charlie, they yelled, Mum and Dad are playing a bad trick on us. Charlie bolted down the hallway and into his parents' bedroom. There he found the eldest of his siblings, Danny and Carmen, who had arrived home together only moments earlier. What they had stumbled upon hit Charlie with such crushing force that it felt as though his heart was being ripped from his chest. Further along North Edgemore Street, local resident Del Johnson was shoveling snow outside his home

when Danny Otero came running up to him in a panic. The Oteros were relatively new to the neighbourhood, having purchased their home just 10 weeks earlier. Though they hadn't yet fully settled in and were mostly homebound due to the frosty winter weather, the Oteros had already established themselves as a kind and happy family. They fit seamlessly into Wichita's carefree community of about 260,000 residents, where doors were kept unlocked and keys left in cars overnight. To the honest, pious people of Wichita, a stranger was just a friend they hadn't met yet. Against this safe and idyllic backdrop,

Del Johnson was stunned when Danny Otero gasped, Come quick, my father's dead, I think. Dell rushed to the Otero House and went inside. He approached the main bedroom belonging to Joe and Julie, only to stop short of the doorway. Upon seeing what lay within, he carefully backed away and went to use the family's telephone to call the police, but the line was dead. He then ran home and contacted authorities from there. Two officers arrived on the scene minutes later.

As their cruiser pulled up, Charlie Otero barreled toward them, frantically explaining that his parents were in the house and had been tied up. Charlie was instructed to stay outside with his two siblings as the officers entered the home. They proceeded down the hallway to the main bedroom and pushed the ajard door wide open. Joe Otero lay face up on the floor at the foot of the bed, his face bruised and streaked with the blood from his nose and mouth. His ankles were bound tightly with white cotton braided cord. Although his hands were loose, his wrists featured deep patterned impressions showing they had also been restrained at one point and he had struggled fiercely to break free. Similar marks encircled

his neck. Julie Otero lay on her back on the nearby bed. She was fully clothed with her wrists bound behind her back and her ankles tied together. She had also been beaten. Beside her head was a blood-stained white cloth gag and lengths of white cord. Both the Joe and Julie were cold and without a pulse. The officers radio dispatched to report the grizzly discovery before returning outside to the three eldest Otero children. Within minutes, it seemed as if the entire Wichita police force had descended on the quiet suburban street, joined shortly after by members of the press and curious onlookers. The police were unusually tight-lipped, prompting reporters to conclude that whatever they had found inside the Otero House must have been truly horrific. As the crime scene

was being cordoned off, Charlie, Danny and Carmen were escorted to a police station to give their accounts of the day's events. From the moment the trio, were woken up by their mother that morning, everything seemed routine and normal. At 7.50 a.m., Joe drove Charlie, Danny and Carmen to school in his wife's station wagon, as his car still needed repairs following his recent accident. When Charlie went to close the garage door, his father told him to leave it open, explaining that he would return straight home to take Joey and Josie to elementary school. Because the family were down to the one car, Charlie, Danny and Carmen had to walk the two miles home from school in the afternoon.

Danny and Carmen walked home together and arrived first. The Oteros used the rear door as their main family entrance, reserving the front for guests and visitors. As the siblings approached the wooden gate leading into the backyard, they found Lucky outside in the cold. The house itself was eerily silent and still. Danny and Carmen noticed their mother's purse and father's wallet ransacked and tossed aside, then made their way to their parents' bedroom. Joe was face down on the floor with his hands bound behind his back and his feet tied to a bedpost. A plastic bag was constricted over his head.

Danny tore it open before retrieving a kitchen knife. to cut through the cords that bound his father. He then rolled Joe over. A brown belt was taut around his neck along with more cord. Danny struggled to loosen it all. Nearby, Carmen removed the gag from her mother's mouth and cut the cord tightly wound around her neck using a pair of toenail clippers. She and Danny attempted to perform CPR on their parents, but the but they didn't respond. Danny tried calling the police from the kitchen telephone, but there was no dial tone. He rushed downstairs to a second phone in the dark unfinished basement,

only to find that it wasn't working either. Charlie arrived soon after and managed to remove the belt from his father's neck, noticing Joe's tongue was half bit off and he had vomited. Believing the assailant might still be in the house, Charlie grabbed a knife and shouted, Whoever's in this house, you're dead. No one responded. He tried the kitchen telephone himself, but it still wasn't working.

Danny ran outside to seek help and encountered his neighbor, Del Johnson, who ultimately summoned the police. For Charlie, his biggest concern was his youngest siblings, Joey and Josie. They hadn't arrived home from school yet and would have no idea of the horror that awaited them when they did. As their protective older brother, he begged the police over and over to prevent the young pair from coming home to spare them the trauma of seeing what had happened to their parents. Eventually, a detective pulled Charlie aside and said gravely, Charlie, we got to tell you, Joey and Josie were in the house. The youngest Hotero child, 9-year-old Joey, was found in his bedroom.

He lay prone on the floor beside a bed, his wrists and ankles bound with the same white cord that was used to restrain his parents. A t-shirt, plastic bag and another t-shirt had been secured over his head, and a length of cord was taught around his neck. While already a horrific scene, what homicide detectives discovered next, left them with a chilling image that would haunt them for the rest of their lives. Imprinted on the carpet near Joey's body were four small, circular indentations arranged in the shape of a square. The marks had been made by the legs of a chair, pressed deeply into the fibers

by the weight of someone sitting on it. The implication was clear and disturbing. After restraining Joey and covering his head, it seemed the killer had pulled the chair up close to the boy to sit and watch. The last Otero Child, 11-year-old Josie, was discovered in the dark basement, hidden around a corner. She was suspended by a rough hemp noose attached to a sewer pipe with her toes just a fraction of an inch above the ground. Her hands were restrained behind her back, a white cloth was tied around her mouth, and her ankles and knees were bound with cord that extended up to her waist. Josie was wearing a blue short-sleeved knit sweater and socks, but was otherwise exposed. Her underwear was loose around her ankles and her bra had been cut open.

While she hadn't been raped, dried seminal fluid was found on her thigh and on the concrete floor below. Ligature marks on the victim's necks told a grahammed. grim story of a drawn-out torture. The killer had strangled each of them repeatedly, loosening his grip to let them gasp for air, before using the cord to finish the act. In Joe and Joey's case, the killer had secured plastic bags over their heads to prolong their suffering. Both were found to have died from asphyxiation and strangulation, while Julie and Josie were killed by strangulation alone. In the words of the district coroner,

all murders are unpleasant, but this is one of the worst I've seen. The quadruple homicide sent shockwaves through Wichita, which had never seen anything like it. Though the Oteros were newcomers, and few locals knew them personally, those who did were left reeling. I didn't believe it, one said,

in the direct aftermath of the crime. It didn't make it. any sense to me, and it still doesn't. The case dominated local newspapers and televised news reports as police held twice daily press conferences releasing what information they could. At one point, they were compelled to show crime scene photos to reporters to dispel the many false rumors circulating about the case, including claims that the victims had been mutilated and sexually assaulted. Meanwhile, Wichita's residents were gripped by a fear unlike anything they had ever known. Doors were now being locked.

Sales of firearms and security alarm system surged, and children were no longer allowed to walk home alone from school. Some people slept near their front doors, while others entered their homes armed with baseball bats or metal bars. A simple knock, now prompted cautious calls of who's there, a practice previously unheard of in the close-knit community. A local television station even cancelled scheduled programming to avoid airing the Boston Strangler, a film about the man who confessed to murdering 13 women in the 1960s.

An article explaining the cancellation cited the city's distress over the Otero murders, noting, A nervous city needs nothing more to add to its smouldering embers of unrest. An editorial in the Wichita Beacon newspaper urged. Crimes like this cannot go unsolved. They tear at the fabric of our society. Every one of us is involved until this ugly act is resolved. Over 70 detectives were immediately assigned to the Otero case to expert. the hunt for the killer. They worked round the clock fielding calls, examining evidence,

and debating possible motives and suspects. They concluded that the killer had entered the Otero house after Joe had dropped off his three oldest children at school at around 8am, but before he took the two youngest, who didn't leave until 9. It was possible the killer had confronted Julie while she was alone with the Josie and Joey, subduing them. before striking Joe by surprise upon his return. With no signs of forced entry or struggle, investigators considered the possibility that the killer had been let in. Whoever had been at the kitchen table preparing sandwiches

would have had a clear view of both the front and rear doors. If anyone had suddenly burst in or appeared threatening, the sandwich knife likely would have been used in self-defense rather than left neatly on the table. Perhaps the family's guard was down because the intruder didn't appear dangerous at first. Lucky the dog had been put outside, suggesting the visitor might have been familiar to the family,

or at least welcomed by them. If he had been an aggressive stranger, Lucky would almost certainly have made a commotion, yet neighbours heard nothing unusual. There was also the question as to how the captain managed to subdue the four victims. Joe Otero was a streetwise, physically fit, ex-champion boxer. He had also served 20 years in the US Air Force as a technical sergeant, including deployments to Korea and Vietnam. In fact, the entire Otero family had been trained in judo, with certificates

of their achievements displayed throughout their home. Perhaps more than one perpetrator was involved, or a firearm was used to ensure the victim's compliance. One family member might have been forced to bind the other three at gunpoint. Although the rummaged purse and wallet suggested robbery as a motive, nothing of significant value was missing from the Otero House. The only items unaccounted for were Joe's aviation-style wristwatch and the keys to Julie's station wagon. The Oteros were far from.

wealthy and made no pretense of being so. Their home was modest, comfortably within their means, and offered no indication of affluence. Nothing about the family suggested they would be a worthwhile target to an opportunistic robber. The sheer brutality of the murders left investigators certain they were dealing with a premeditated execution. The discovery that the property's phone line had been cut supported this theory as it had prevented the family from calling for help. Yet, experts consulted by police unanimously agreed that the murders were not the work of professional killers. Such individuals, they explained, preferred quicker, more efficient methods than strangulation. Torture was typically inflicted by offenders who had a deeply personal connection to their victims, as it was an intentional act that

required time and effort and served no purpose other than to provide the perpetrator with emotional gratification. Moreover, the presence of abnormal sexual acts reflected a level of perversion far beyond anything seen in routine home invasions or contract killings. Four independent witnesses had cited a man around the Otero home on the morning of the murders. The problem was their descriptions varied widely. His age was placed between 28 and 34. He was both tall and short, slender and bulky, and his complexion was varying shades of dark.

Some said he had bushy black hair, while others asserted he was wearing a crumpled floppy hat. Reporters were told he might have been Middle Eastern. When a sketch artist drew a composite image of the man, he looked to be Hispanic. Some people noted that, the sketch bore a resemblance to Joe Otero with a thin mustache. The times of death of the victims were estimated between 8.15 and 8.45 a.m. and the man was seen loitering around the Otero residents

between 8.45 to 10.30. This created around a two-hour window between the murders and when the suspect finally left the house. At 1030, he was witnessed back in. out of the Otero's driveway in Julie's station wagon seemingly alone. Julie's car was later found half a mile away in a grocery store parking lot and was believed to have been there from 11 a.m. onwards. The fuel tank was almost empty, the keys were missing and the driver's seat was positioned in a way that indicated whoever had driven the vehicle was short-statured. Foreign fingerprints were found on the vehicle, providing one of the few. major clues in the case. Another fingerprint was lifted from the chair it was believed the

killer sat in to watch Joey Otero die. It didn't match any member of the family or anyone who had entered the house after the murders, including responding officers. The restraints used by the killer provided another clue. He first used a role of adhesive first aid tape to subdue the victims, which he then reinforced with a white cord cut from a well-worn Venetian blind. The cord used to strangle the victims came from a clothes line, while the gags were fashioned from an old pillowcase. Given that none of these items originated from the Otero residents, the perpetrator must have prepared them in advance and brought them to the scene.

Both types of cord were common and could be purchased from numerous suppliers across the country, country. The plastic bags used to suffocate the victims couldn't be traced to any meaningful source either. The cords were expertly tied using a variety of knots, including slip, square, overhand and blood knots, as well as clove and half hitches. There were so many intricate knots that a detective had to consult an encyclopedia published by the Naval Institute press to correctly identify them, sparking the theory that the killer might have have had naval or sailing experience. The killer's seminal fluid was the only significant evidence investigators possessed, and they took meticulous care to preserve it. Some samples were carefully

dried, others were stored in fluid, and a portion was frozen. Tests revealed the killer had the most common type-o blood type, but this discovery didn't lead to any breakthroughs either. Nor did the desperate decision to let a psychic spend the night at the Otero house. She claimed to have once helped solve a crime by leading police to a body in the trunk of a car. Two officers watched in silence as she scribbled down notes, but nothing came of it. Investigators delved into the Otero's personal lives, searching for anyone who might have had a reason to target them. To others, Joe Otero was an outgoing jovial kind of guy who loved making people laugh with the self-deprecating humour.

Julie was equally well-liked. She was described as a very caring, loving Catholic woman who placed motherhood above all else. Teachers at Josie and Joey's school lauded them as model students who never caused any trouble. Prior to his death, Joe worked at Cook Airfield a few miles outside of Wichita, where he had access to private aircraft. Speculation about his possible involvement in illicit drug transport didn't hold up under scrutiny. He was an honest man, one acquaintance said of Joe. I can't visualize him mixed up in any kind of conspiracy. According to one investigator, the OTBes.

taros were like any other religious and god-fearing family in Wichita. No one in the family was found to have associated with so-called undesirable types or engaged in criminal activity of any kind. Everyone known to the family was heavily scrutinised and although Joe's history revealed a few interpersonal conflicts, none were linked to the murders. Investigators sifted through the family's belongings and pursued Leeds as far afield as Panama, Mexico, and the Otero's native Puerto Rico. They explored a range of theories including mistaken identity, jealousy, revenge, and even connections to other local crimes, but all were eventually ruled out. No one could think of a reason why anyone would want to harm any of the Oteros, let alone brutally kill four members of the family. The bodies

of Joe, Julie, Josie and Joey were flown to Puerto Rico for burial aboard an Air Force plane in honor of Joe's military service. While the Air Force typically didn't handle the transportation of retired personnel's remains, officials noted that the tragic and isolated incident called for the assistance of the country Joe had served so well. The gesture was described by the White House Deputy Press Secretary as entirely proper. Meanwhile, the three surviving Otero children went to live with extended family. The case became one of the most intensive criminal investigations in the history of the Wichita Police Department.

Early on, it became evident that the department was ill-equipped to handle its scale, notoriety, and complexity. Critical missteps occurred, including the loss of numerous crime scene and autopsy images. the lack of modern forensic and investigative tools added to the challenge. Computers, DNA analysis and national databases, such as those used for fingerprint matching, didn't exist in 1974. Recognising the enormity of the task, the Wichita Police accepted assistance from a wide array of agencies, including the County Sheriff's Office, the District Attorney's Office,

the Kansas Bureau of Investigation, the Air Force Office of Special Service, the Air Force Office of Special investigations, the Department of Justice's Drug Enforcement Administration, and the FBI. Psychiatrists and pathologists from across the country even volunteered their expertise. More than 1,500 people were questioned in the US and overseas, including those convicted of similar crimes. Hundreds of suspects and multiple false confessions were all ruled out based on the physical evidence. Despite an onslaught of tips provided by the public, police admitted they reached a dead end on concrete leads within weeks.

In time, the number of detectives assigned to the case was reduced from 70 to 30 to 10. Eventually, only one detective remained on the case full-time, with another five on standby to pursue any promising leads. By that point, the Otero file had grown to two. feet thick, as nothing uncovered during the investigation was discarded. Yet, after months of systematically working through the material, investigators felt they were no closer to solving the murders than on the day they were discovered. They admitted that their theories regarding who and why amounted to nothing more than guesswork, as they hadn't found

anything to conclusively answer any of the questions they had. We don't have a complete picture of what happened out there, Wichita Chief of Police Floyd Hannon had admitted. Every time we have a theory, something pulls it apart. It is a perplexing case with holes in it that we just can't plug. The investigation nevertheless stayed at the forefront of Wichita police work. One investigator told the Wichita Beacon, hardly a day goes by that we don't discuss the Otero case, and I know for myself that sooner or later, we will find the killer. To help generate leads, local newspapers launched a joint program with authorities called Secret Witness. The initiative allowed readers to submit tips about the Otero murders via mail or telephone,

which were forwarded directly to the police. The newspapers emphasised that the program was not a covert scheme to gather material for news stories, Tips could be submitted anonymously and all information remained confidential to be released only if an arrest was made or a warrant issued. By October 1974, nine months had passed since the Otero murders. That month, the Wichita Eagle reported an update on the case. Three local men aged 19, 26 and 30 had been questioned in connection with child sex. offenses. They were asked about the Otero case, which had become a standard line of inquiry in relevant investigations. The 19-year-old provided suspiciously accurate information about the crime

and implicated one of the other men who happened to be his brother. The brother then gave police the name of a close acquaintance who became the third suspect. Although police considered the Trio Strong Leeds, police chief Floyd Hannan clarified that none of the men knew the Oteros could be placed at the crime scene or matched the description of the man seen leaving the family's home. Efforts to verify the men's claims were complicated by the extensive media coverage, which had made many details of the crime publicly available. None of them were particularly reliable and all were placed in psychiatric care, adding further doubts about their credibility.

On Tuesday, October 22, four days after the article about the three men was published, Don Granger, a columnist for the Wichita Eagle, received a phone call. Don managed the Secret Witness program, and the tip line had been routed to a telephone on his work desk.

On the other line was a man with a Midwestern accent. He spoke aggressively as if issuing a command. Listen and listen good, he told Don. I'm only going to say this once. There is a letter about the Otero case in a book in the public library. Case File will be back shortly. Thank you for supporting us by listening to this episode's sponsors. Thank you for listening to this episode's ads.

By supporting our sponsors, you support CaseFile to continue to deliver quality content. The caller explained to Don Granger that the letter would prove that the three men currently suspected of the Otero murders were innocent. He said the letter could be found in a book titled Applied Engineering Mechanics, then abruptly hung up. Don was perplexed. Despite a $7,500 reward for pertinent information on the case having long since expired, the caller made no mention of it, leaving his motives unclear. Furthermore, hoaxes and pranksters had made it difficult to determine if the tips Don received were even genuine. He faced a tough choice. He could locate the letter himself, and if it

existed, copy it for the newspaper for a major scoop. But committed to the integrity of the Secret Witness program and convinced that aiding the police was more important than personal gain, he relayed the information from the call to law enforcement instead. A detective went to the Wichita Public Library downtown and located a two-page, single-spaced, typed letter tucked inside the aforementioned book. It was addressed to the Secret Witness Programme and riddled with misspellings and poor grammar. It began.

I write this letter to you for the sake of the taxpayer as well as your time. Those three dudes you have in custody are just talking to get publicity. They know nothing at all. I did it by myself and with no one's help. The letter went on to provide an accurate account of the Otero murders, including what the victims were wearing, how their bodies were positioned, the cords and knots used to bind them, and even the item the killer took as a souvenir.

I needed one, the author wrote about Joe's wristwatch. So I took it. Runs good. The letter correctly stated that 11-year-old Josie's eyeglasses were in the southwest bedroom and her green pants were left at the bottom of the basement stairs. This information was significant as it was only known to the police and the perpetrator. The author confirmed that the murders were premeditated but said that he didn't know the family personally. He had stalked them prior to the attack, referring to the process of targeting, following,

waiting and checking up on them as a big, complicated game. He went on to claim that he had a monster in his head that compelled him to commit the crime, before warning ominously. Where this monster enter my brain, I will never know, but it here to stay. I can't stop it, so the monster goes on, and hurt me as well as society. Maybe you can stop him. I can't.

He has already chosen his next victim or victims. I don't know who they are yet. The next day after I read the paper, I will know. But it too late. Good luck hunting. The unsigned letter ended. Yours truly guiltily. The letter had invalidated

every theory the investigators had spent months developing, and it left them stunned. In the words of the writer, the crime had been driven by a psychotic sexual perversion. Given how Josie Otero had been treated, she appeared to have been the killer's primary sexual fixation. A complete stranger to the family, he had been observing them for some time before deciding to strike on January 15. Police conducted a re-enactment and concluded that, while improbable, it was still possible for a single person to have executed the attack. Although the letter offered no clues to his true identity, the author provided authorities with a name by which to refer to him. At the bottom of the letter he had written, P.S., since sex criminals do not change their MO, or by nature cannot do.

so, I will not change mine. The code words for me will be bind them, torture them, kill them, B.T.K. While the multiple writing errors suggest that the killer was mildly illiterate or had a learning disability, investigators were more inclined to believe it was a deliberate attempt to disguise his identity. After all, he had no trouble correctly spelling and using words such as psychotic, complicated and perversion. A personality profile of the killer compiled with input from 30 Kansas-based doctors suggested he was small in stature and likely had limited formal education in fields such as engineering, bookkeeping or accounting.

The correction marks throughout the letter resembled those taught in Wichita vocational schools, indicating he was a long-established member of the community. Investigators believed he might have lived or worked near the Otero home, as it seemed unlikely he would attempt to meticulously planned and high-risk quadruple homicide in unfamiliar territory. Psychiatrists noted the killer was probably insecure and definitely mentally ill, observing that his reference to the monster inside him aligned with common assertions made by psychopaths. His compulsion to bind to the victims likely stemmed from a sexual fetish, and he might also have necrophilic tendencies, experiencing sexual arousal from corpses. The question remained. Why did he choose to confess nine months later, long after the case had faded from the headlines?

It seemed that news of three other men claiming responsibility for his crimes had irritated the killer. Rather than quietly fading into obscurity, grateful to have gotten away with it, he sought recognition. After all, he had directed a member of the press to the letter instead of the police. Investigators suspected he might have been inspired by heavily publicized events earlier that year. In January, San Francisco authorities received another cryptic letter from the elusive Zodiac killer, as covered in episode 200 of Case File. Despite having relied heavily on the press to generate leads, police chief Floyd Hannan chose to keep the existence of BTK from the public.

He feared the news might inspire hoaxes or copycats and plunged the city into hysteria. The publicity could also provoke BTK to strike again. Still, the police needed to signal to the killer that they were taking him seriously and were willing to cooperate in order to prevent any further deaths. BTC's initial contact columnist Don Granger was asked to run a discrete classified ad at the top of the Personals column in the Wichita Eagle over the following week. It would be vague enough to go unnoticed by most readers, yet specific enough to catch the killer's attention. The brief message read,

help is available. The ad included a phone number manned by the police, but BTK never called it. Investigators enlisted Don Granger's help again, this time requesting that he addressed BTK directly in a personal plea through his widely read commentary column, Talk of the Town. It began. For the past week, Wichita Police have tried to get in touch with a man who has important information on the Atero murder case, a man who needs help badly. Don didn't mention that he had received a call from the killer or that the police had a confession authored by him. While he referred to BTK by his desired moniker, he didn't divulge what it stood for. Don wrote that the phone number provided in the Personals column was being monitored by police who were willing to help

BTK, but if BTK preferred, Don said he was willing to speak to him personally. He provided both his office and home phone numbers, writing, this may expose me to a certain amount of crank-prank calls, but the nuisance is worth the trouble if we can only provide help for a troubled man. Don's personalised plea went ignored by BTK as well. Meanwhile, police continued to keep his presence under wraps as they contemplated their next move. Before they could reach a decision, one was made for them. Two months after BTK's letter was received, an up-and-coming rival newspaper to the Wichita Eagle called The Wichita Sun went to print with a shocking headline. The paper was only two months old when staff writer Kathy Henkel broke the full story of the BTK in its 10th issue.

Claiming to have obtained a copy of the library letter from a trusted anonymous source, Kathy published portions of it and revealed that BTK stood for bind, torture, kill. She revealed that the killer intended to strike again and had already begun hunting his next victim, information that the police had deliberately kept from the public. When asked why she published the letter, Kathy, who had grown up at just a mile from the Otero family home, explained that she believed the people of Wichita had a right to know they were being stalked by a killer. She said she had consulted with private sector psychologists who disagreed with the police's strategy.

While authorities feared that publicity might provoke BTK to strike again, the psychologists argued the opposite. it. They believed that keeping him secret when he craved attention might actually increase the likelihood of another attack. The day after the story ran, police chief Floyd Hannon fronted a press conference, describing the publication of the letter as one hell of a risk. He warned that it might prompt the author to reaffand just to prove he had committed the Otero murders, calling BTK a sick man who needs help, Hannon urged the killer to turn himself in. If he doesn't, Hannon admitted, I could not guess what might happen. The publicity triggered another wave of tips as residents accused

husbands, boyfriends, neighbours and co-workers. Despite growing fears that BTK would strike again, the one-year anniversary of the Otero murders passed in January 1975 without incident. By then, the telephone tip line had gone quiet and all the leads following the publication of his confession letter had dried up. No further murders appeared to bear BTK's signature and no new letters surfaced. Thursday, March 17, 1977 marked a little over three years after the Otero murders. At around noon on South Hydraulic Avenue in southeast Wichita, six-year-old, Steve, Even Relford walked up the block to a grocery store to buy canned soup for lunch. On his way back home, he noticed a man at the front door of a nearby house.

Tall, heavily built and well-dressed in slacks, a tweed sports jacket and dress shoes, the man carried a large blue briefcase. He looked to be aged in his 30s or 40s, with dark hair and a paunchy stomach. He knocked on the door. but no one answered. The man then turned and noticed Stephen. He approached holding a photograph of a woman with a baby boy and asked, Have you seen these people?

Stephen looked at the picture and said no. Are you sure, the man pressed? Stephen said yes and turned away. From the doorway of his home, Stephen glanced back to see the man watch. watching before heading inside. His older brother, 8-year-old Bud, was playing with their four-year-old sister, Stephanie. Stephen went into the main bedroom where their mother, 26-year-old Shirley Vian, was resting in bed with the flu. He crawled under the blankets and nestled beside her. Moments later, there was a knock at the front door. Stevens sprang out of bed and

race toward the front door with Bud hot on his heels, turning it into one of their impromptu brotherly competitions. Stephen reached the door first and opened it just enough to peek outside. The well-dressed man with the briefcase towered over him. A weary and unwell Shirley Vianne emerged from the bedroom in a robe. When the man saw Shirley, he pushed his way into the house, claiming to be a private detective and flashing an ID card that bore his photo. He closed the door behind him before reaching into a shoulder holster and pulling out a pistol. Don't hurt us, Shirley pleaded. I'm not going to hurt you, the man replied calmly.

He said that he had a problem with sexual fantasies and he intended to tie Shirley up, have sex with her and take photographs. He admitted it would not be pleasant for her, but insisted everyone would be all right if she cooperated. He then paced around the living room, turning off the television and closing the blinds. In an attempt to dissuade him, Shirley explained that the family was sick with the flu. The man replied harshly that it was going to happen and that he had done this before. Suddenly, the telephone rang. Shirley said it was likely someone checking in as she had kept her children home from school that day.

Stephen asked whether to pick up the phone, but the man told him, No, leave it alone. The call rang out unanswered, but it seemed to have spooked the man as he began moving with increased urgency and nervousness. He explained that he would tie up the children first. Shirley begged him not to, but he insisted it had to be done. He unzipped his briefcase, took out a length of white cotton-braided cord, and began tying Bud's hands together. Bud screamed, cried and struggled.

This is not going to work, the man said, frustrated. He then ordered Shirley to lock her children in the bathroom. Shirley instructed Bud Stephen and Stephanie to follow the man's orders as she gathered blankets, pillows and toys for them. Meanwhile, the man set about making sure the children couldn't escape. The bathroom had two doors. He tied rope from the doorknob of one door to a pipe under the sink, jarring it. The other door led into the main bedroom.

Shirley was made to block it by pushing her back. bed against it. Inside the bathroom, Bud, Stephen and Stephanie screamed and pounded on the door. When Stephen threatened to untie the rope from under the sink, the man barked a threat that he would blow Stephen's head off. Bud then picked up something heavy and used it to smash the bottom pane of the bathroom window. He crawled out, followed by Stephen. The boys dropped to the ground, ran to the front door and into the house. By the time they reached the main bedroom, the man was gone. At around 1pm, Wichita Police Officer Raymond Fletcher received a cryptic message over his radio. Call me back on a telephone. He understood immediately.

Dispatches only made such requests when they needed to share information too sensitive to be broadcast over public scanners. Fletcher was given a residential address on South Hydraulic Avenue, where there had been reports of a homicide. He arrived at the house to find four-year-old Stephanie Relford sitting on a couch in the living room, crying. Her older brothers, Bard and Stephen, had run to a neighbour for help who had called the police. Fletcher made his way to the main bedroom. The blinds were drawn, casting the room in near darkness. A bed had been pushed up against the bathroom door, and atop it lay Shirley Vianne. She was naked and faced down with her head at the foot of the bed. Her arms and ankles were restrained with black electrical

tape, while a white cord and a pair of nylon panty hose bound her hands behind her back. A pink nighty was pulled over her. head, which was encased in a white plastic bag. It was tightly secured by another length of white cord that was wrapped multiple times around her neck. The cord extended down to bind her wrists and ankles and reached the head of the bed where it was tied tautly to a bedpost. Officer Fletcher hastily removed the nighty plastic bag and cord from Shirley's head. Her face was smeared with vomit, which was also splattered across the bedroom floor. A small amount of blood trickled out from one of her ears.

Feeling for a pulse, Fletcher detected a faint twitch and immediately began CPR. As additional emergency personnel arrived, they carried Shirley into the living room to continue life-saving efforts, but it was too late. Officer Fletcher surveyed the scene. He observed the cord and observed the cord and other restraints, the intricate knots and the plastic bag secured over Shirley's head. He picked up his radio and reported.

It looks like the same thing as the Otero case. Case File will be back shortly. Thank you for supporting us by listening to this episode's sponsors. Thank you for listening to this episode's ads. By supporting our sponsors, you support CaseFile to continue to deliver quality content. The parallels between the murders of Shirley Vayan and Theoteros were not lost on Richard LaMunion. LaMunion was Wichita's newly appointed chief of police, taking over from his retired predecessor Floyd Hannon. He had previously served as captain of the Vice Unit, overseeing investigations into public safety offences such as illegal gambling, drug and firearms violations, human trafficking and sex work.

At 36 years old, Richard Lemunion was nicknamed the Boy Chief for being the youngest chief of police in Wichita's history. His rapid rise up the ranks puzzled many of the city's more seasoned officers, who wondered why someone with such little seniority or experience had been chosen to lead the department. But Le Munion viewed his youth as an asset. He believed it gave him a fresh perspective that others hardened by years in the force. had lost. Former police chief Floyd Hannon left the position burdened with regret over never having brought the Otero's killer to justice. It was an outcome Le Munion was determined to avoid for himself, and the BTK investigation became his top priority. He studied the Otero files in exhaustive detail, the haunting image of 11-year-old Josie's body forever etched in his mind. Bind them, torture them, kill them, were the code words the family's killer had provided

in his written confession to link authorities to his crimes. Now, three years later, Shirley Vianne had been bound, tortured and killed. Two small, round bruises at the base of her throat were consistent with finger pressure, and like Joe and Joey Otero, she had died from strangulation and asphyxiation. Despite the crime's depraved sexual undertones, Shirley had not been raped, mirroring the treatment of Josie Otero years earlier. If Shirley's killer was BTK, posing as a detective to gain access to her home provided a possible explanation as to how he could have entered the Otero residents without incident. He also had access to a firearm, a weapon long suspected to have been used against the Otero. to ensure their compliance.

Although Chief Le Munion wasn't a detective by trade, he felt all signs pointed to Shirley's killer being BTK. Older, more senior detectives, were not convinced. They noted several key differences to the Otero murders, including the lack of semen at the Vian scene and the fact that her phone line hadn't been cut. Shirley's children had also been spared and left alive as witnesses. They described their mother's killer as a tall, nicely dressed white man in his 30s or 40s,

with dark hair and a flabby belly. Descriptions of the Otero killer varied, but he was generally reported as younger, shorter and leaner, with a darker complexion and a more disheveled appearance. B.TK had warned in his Otero confessional. letter. B.TK, you see, he added again, they will be on the next victim. Shirley Vianz killer left no evidence behind, making any connection to BtK purely circumstantial. Even the lead-up to the two crimes was markedly different. Before Shirley's murder, her killer had been roaming the neighbourhood armed with the tools of his craft, searching for a suitable target.

The house Stephen Relford saw him visit beforehand was occupied by three young women, but none happened to be home at the time that he knocked. It therefore appeared that his decision to walk two doors down to Shirley Vianne's residence was impulsive, triggered by his encounter with six-year-old Stephen. This stood in stark contrast to how BTK described selecting DeOtero family, which he claimed was a premeditated attack. preceded by a lengthy period of planning, stalking, watching, and waiting. It was also noted that BTK's methods had appeared in many other unrelated crimes,

and finding a victim restrained didn't automatically prove his involvement. The FBI shared this skepticism. At the time, the Bureau had only just begun exploring the psychology of serial killers through behavioral science. Combining insights from fields such as psychology, criminology, neuroscience and sociology, behavioral science examines how and why humans behave the way they do. Early research suggested that serial killers couldn't simply stop once they started, let alone take a three-year hiatus between murders. The investigation into Shirley Vianne's murder zeroed in on other possible suspects,

including her ex-husband. Robbery gone wrong emerged as the leading motive as two checks were missing from her home. The case received a minimal press coverage, buried among reports of other violent murders that week, including the stabbing of a co-ed and the shooting of a man kidnapped from a liquor store. Days, weeks and months passed without any breakthroughs. As Shirley's case grew cold, police chief Richard Lemunion found himself at a cell. similar crossroads to his predecessor. If his gut instinct was correct and surely was a victim of BTK,

the public needed to be warned about the emerging serial killer among them. The publicity might provoke another attack, but the increased awareness might also deter him. If LeMunion was wrong, his authority and legitimacy would be questioned, and public trust in the police might be irreparably damaged. With these stakes in mind, he erred on the side of caution and made no public announcements. A little under nine months later, at 818am on Friday, December 9, 1977, a call was placed to Wichita emergency services. The unidentified male caller spoke bluntly, his diction slow and staccato. You will find a homicide at 843 South Pershing.

Nancy Fox The dispatcher couldn't quite make out the man's muffled voice. I'm sorry, sir, they replied. I can't understand you. What was the address? Another dispatcher listening in interjected. I believe he said 843 South Pershing. That is correct, the caller confirmed.

The dispatchers tried to gather more information, but the man didn't reply. Almost a minute passed until a different voice suddenly came down the line. Who are you, one of the dispatchers asked. The new voice identified himself as an off-duty Wichita firefighter. He was at a pay phone outside a grocery store on the corner of Central and St. Francis in the heart of downtown. He'd gone to use the phone after noticing the booth was empty and found the receiver dangling from the hook. The previous caller had dropped it mid-call, leaving the line open before fleeing the area. Less than five miles away, police officer John DiPietra arrived at the South Pershing Street address,

a single-story pink-painted duplex southeast of the city centre. The neighbouring unit was vacant, meaning if anything suspicious had occurred at the residence, there was no one around to notice. D'Pietra knocked on the front door of number 843. No one answered and it was locked. As he walked around to the back of the property, he noticed the severed cord of the phone line swaying in the breeze. He also saw that the screen on a rear window had been removed.

Primark scored the lock and the glass had been broken. The interior drapes were drawn, preventing Depietra from seeing inside. Is anyone home? He called out. When no one replied, he leaned into the window and pulled the drapes aside.

A small bedroom came into view. Face down on the bed lay a half-naked woman in a pink sweater with her underwear pulled down exposing her lower half. A yellow nightie had been used to tie her ankles together

and her wrists were bound behind her back with a pair of red nylon panty hose. Another two pairs of pantyhose were wrapped around her neck. Just as the anonymous caller had stated to 911, the woman was 25-year-old Nancy Fox. Nancy lived alone while working as a secretary for an architectural firm. She had recently taken a part-time job at a local mall jewelers to earn extra money for Christmas gifts. She was last seen leaving the jewelers at 9pm the night before and was murdered shortly after arriving home.

Although she led a vibrant social life going to nightclubs with France visiting her mother every Sunday, doting on her two-year-old nephew and dating her boyfriend. On South Pershing, Nancy mostly kept to herself and rarely had visitors. None of her neighbours saw or hurt anything suspicious on the night. she was killed. Therefore, no one reported the crime until the 911 call the following morning. Investigators were certain that the caller was Nancy's killer. As per standard practice, the call had been recorded and playback revealed some peculiarities. The man's muffled voice suggested he had covered the receiver to disguise his tone. He also pronounced the word homicide as

homicide. Either he was unfamiliar with the term, or he said it that way to mislead investigators into thinking he had an accent, or that English wasn't his first language. Regardless, his voice was unrecognizable. Based on the recollections of witnesses near the payphone where the call was placed, the man was white, aged in his 20s and about six feet tall, possibly with blonde hair. He wore what appeared to be a grey industrial style uniform and a hat with ear flaps and he drove a late model windowless van with indistinct advertising painted on it. Examination of Nancy's apartment revealed the moments leading up to her murder. For the most part the space was neat and tidy, just as she always kept it.

Her white parker was folded over the couch, a cigarette she had half smoked to lay in an ashtray by a chair, and her eye glasses sat upside down on the dresser beside her bed. These homely details stood in stark contrast to the violent mess her killer had left behind. Clothing had been strewn across the floor, and the telephone receiver had been pulled off the wall and tossed aside. Nancy's purse had been emptied onto the kitchen table, and the contents of her jewelry boxes were scattered, yet only her driver's license was noted as missing. The lingerie drawer from her dresser was on the bed beside her, laid out next to a blue nightgown stained with seaman. Once again, police chief Richard Le Munion faced the growing dread that BTK had claimed another victim. Like Shirley Viand before her,

Nancy Fox's murder bore the hallmarks of BTK's crimes. She was partially naked, restrained on her bed. strangled to death, and her killer derived sexual gratification from the act without committing a sexual assault. Her phone line had been cut and her belongings ransacked, but the killer seemed less interested in valuables and more focused on taking trivial items as souvenirs. Between both cases and the Otero murders, there were no worthwhile suspects. Yet, detectives still remained hesitant to draw a direct link, despite admitting to the press that they were not even close to a break in any of the cases. Chief LeMunion considered whether they should attempt to communicate with BTK again, giving his willingness to divulge information previously. He consulted the FBI for guidance,

but since the study of serial killers through behavioural science was still in its infancy, the Bureau had insufficient data to offer a definitive strategy. Ultimately, the decision on how to proceed was left to Le Mnion. He was torn. BTK was inconsistent and unpredictable, seemingly striking at random intervals, both when he received publicity and when he didn't. People could die no matter how the police handled the situation. But one thing was.

certain, BTK craved notoriety. He wasn't the type to let his crimes go unnoticed or to allow others to claim responsibility. If he was indeed responsible for Shirley's, Nancy's or any other deaths, he would inevitably seek recognition for them. La Munyon ultimately chose to sit back and wait, anticipating that BTK would eventually expose himself in pursuit of publicity. And he didn't have to wait long. To be continued next week.