Killer Stories with Harvey Guillén - “The Most Prolific” Pt. 2: Samuel Little

Episode Date: April 9, 2020

By the 1990s, he had spent twenty years murdering dozens of women across the United States. Decades after his crimes, Samuel Little was finally brought to justice—and soon revealed to have one of the highest victim counts of all time. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

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In February of 1994, Detective Sergeant Snow Robertson of the Odessa, Texas Police Department, pulled his patrol car into the vacant lot at 2,700 Van Street. He'd been dispatched to the sun-baked West Texas Industrial Park, after the police department received a call from a distressed trucker. Robertson's men had already blocked off the lot by the time he arrived. Yellow caution tape quarantined an area where a large mass was lying, covered by a tarp. The detective bent down, stealing himself before he peeled away the covering.

Underneath was the face of a woman, late 30s with dirty blonde hair. Denise Brothers, a local sex worker. The Odessa PD knew her well. Considering the bruising around her throat, Robertson immediately suspected. foul play. He walked the crime scene by himself, photographing every inch, tagging every piece of possible evidence. He placed plastic bags around her hands, zipped her into a black body bag, and lifted her gently into the back of the coroner's fan. Detective Robertson spent the next few weeks combing through evidence. He interviewed suspects, Denise Brothers pimp, various boyfriends, but no promising leads

materialized. As a last resort, he submitted the details of brothers' death to the violent criminal apprehension program, or Vycap, an FBI database for unsolved murders, rapes, and assaults. Snow Robertson had only scratched the surface of a dark discovery. Denise Brothers was just one of dozens of sex workers whose grisly deaths spanned thousands of miles and multiple decades. But they all stemmed back to one killer, Samuel Little. Hi, I'm Greg Poulson. This is serial killers, a parkast original. Every episode, we dive into the minds and madness of serial killers. Today, we're continuing the story of Samuel Little, believed to be responsible for the murders of at least 93 women, making him the most prolific

serial killer in American history. I'm here with my co-host, Vanessa Richardson. Hi, everyone. You can find episodes of serial killers and all other Parcast originals for free on Spotify, or wherever you listen to podcasts. To stream serial killers for free on Spotify, just open the app and type serial killers in the search bar. At Parcast, we're grateful for you, our listeners. You allow us to do what we love. Let us know how we're doing.

Reach out on Facebook and Instagram at Parcast and Twitter at Parcast Network. Last week, we explored Samuel Little's background and followed his insidious progression from petty criminal to serial killer. This week, we'll cover how detectives picked up Little's trail decades later, joined forces with law enforcement across the country, and eventually brought him to justice. By 1994, 54-year-old Samuel Little had strangled and killed dozens of women in a ravenous 20-year-year-old. killing spree. His exploits left a trail of bodies scattered across the United States. Though his first confirmed victim wasn't discovered until 1982, Little claims he started killing as early as the 1970s. Little sought out vulnerable women, living in economically depressed towns and inner city neighborhoods. Some were sex workers. Many were drug users, and a good

number were women of color. But all of Little's victims were living in a time when being any one of the three meant their disappearances went almost unnoticed by investigators. And this wasn't a coincidence. Vanessa is going to take over on the psychology here and throughout the episode. Please note, Vanessa is not a licensed psychologist or psychiatrist, but she has done a lot of research for this show. Thanks, Greg. According to sociologist Zhu Young Lee and psychologist Sasha Reed, serial killers are often self-aware about the ecology of violence in the places they operate. Doctors Lee and Reed define this concept as the ecosystem that surrounds a violent act. With any crime, there's more than just the perpetrator and victim.

There are also bystanders, interveners, and investigators, and a successful serial killer will often consider these different ecological elements in their crimes. This is why they target marginalized women working in or participating in illegal trades, such as sex work or drugs. Killers know these individuals are less likely to report instances of assaults, but perhaps more importantly, they know police are less inclined to investigate their disappearances, because they led high-risk lifestyles. And this is even more true in areas where class, sexual, or race discrimination run rampant, which is why Little often killed sex workers or vulnerable women of color in the South.

Wherever he killed, few if any consequences followed, and this only made Little bolder. The world was his killing field. Little's favored method of hunting women followed a fairly consistent pattern. Wherever his itinerant lifestyle took him, he typically sought out the local Red Light District as soon as he arrived. There he would case the joint, sometimes over the course of several days. He chatted up locals and even some of the women working the area.

All the while, his cold, calculating mind evaluated his potential victims, determining who was the most vulnerable, the easiest to isolate and kill. Were they loners? Did they have a history with the local police? Were they addicted to drugs? Other times, when a good opportunity presented itself, Little killed for the sake of killing. Any woman, regardless if she was a sex worker or drug user, would do. He might stumble upon a potential victim while she walked home alone from work

or drank with friends at a club. He would pull up beside her in whatever car he was driving at the time and invite her on a date. If the woman was unlucky enough to get in the car with Little, he drove her to a deserted part of town. usually an alley or empty lot. He then stopped the car, hit his victim savagely over the head, and tossed her limp form in the back seat.

Once in his clutches, little strangled and sometimes raped his victims. If he did not sexually assault them, he often masturbated while throttling them, earning him the gruesome moniker of the stroke and choke killer. And in 1994, Denise Brothers' murder was highly emblematic, of Little's M.O. Brothers was a sex worker in Odessa, Texas, who was walking to meet her pimp when Little pulled up alongside her in his car. He picked her up, and the two took copious amounts of drugs over the next few hours. But in the end, Little abided by his usual routine. He drove

brothers to a deserted alleyway, beat her, tossed her into the back seat, and strangled her. Then he dumped her body in an empty parking lot and skipped town. It was from that, that same parking lot that Detective Snow Robertson took DNA samples from Brother's body and entered them into the Vicar system. They sat dormant and unexamined for over a decade, and in the meantime, Little continued killing. Not much is known about Little's activities in the years immediately following the murder of Denise Brothers, but police have been able to confirm he killed at least two women over the next decade and a half. He murdered 40-year-old Daisy McGuire of Homa, Louisiana in 1996, just two

years after killing Denise Brothers. And then, nearly a decade later in 2005, he murdered 46-year-old Nancy Stevens near Tupelo, Mississippi. But given what we know about Samuel Little's habits, he most likely killed many more unknown victims during that time period. Once again, Little's ability to exploit a system of discrimination and injustice paid off. Any other women he may have killed likely slipped through the cracks. Their disappearances never investigated or perhaps never even noticed. But years later, Little's seemingly invisible life as a killer came to a shuddering halt. In 2012, 18 years after Texas Detective Snow Robertson entered Little's DNA into Vycap, a different investigator picked up where he left off. Mitsy Roberts was an accomplished homicide detective with

years of experience, working her way up the LAPD's totem pole. As a woman traversing a department long regarded as a boys club, Roberts spent years fighting an uphill battle. But she proved herself an astute investigator with a talent for seeing connections that even some of her most seasoned male colleagues missed. In 2012, the LAPD received a grant from the National Institute of Justice to screen DNA evidence from cold cases. Roberts joined the team. The city of Los Angeles had thousands of cold case files lining the walls of its records room. Many of them were committed during the 1980s and 90s, a time when crime was high throughout

the metropolitan area. But for Roberts, the mountain of seemingly directionless cases was an exciting challenge. She felt strongly that the families of these victims deserved answers, and she disagreed with conventional wisdom among law enforcement that investigating the deaths of people with high-risk lifestyles was a waste of time and resources. Roberts dove in head first and ran hundreds of DNA profiles through VyCAP, a time-consuming and usually fruitless task.

But one morning, in April 2012, Roberts struck gold. ViCap had identified positive results in the LAPD Cold Case backlog. Genetic information from the murders of two L.A. women, Audrey Nelson, and Guadalupe Abadaca, were matched to Samuel Little. His DNA had originally been put on record after the 1984 assault and attempted murder of another woman in San Diego. Nelson and Apodaca were sex workers operating in L.A. South Central Neighborhood in the late 1980. before both were killed by strangulation. Little left DNA in the body of Abadaka in the form of ejaculate. Meanwhile, the samples found on Nelson were taken from skin cells collected under her fingernails. Mitsi Roberts was fairly certain she had identified a serial killer. There was literally

a one in 450 quintillion chance that the genetic material could belong to someone other than Samuel Little. But it still wasn't a smoking gun. A DNA match only proved that the suspect and victim shared physical contact at some point. And given that Nelson and Abadaka were sex workers, they likely had multiple DNA profiles on their bodies at the time of their deaths. The genetic evidence alone wouldn't be enough to convict for murder. So Roberts brought in reinforcement in the form of a partner, Detective Rodrigo Amador. Amador was a veteran homicide detective known for being a dog-es-a-lawful,

with a bone when it came to puzzling crimes. And though Amador, like Roberts, was certain Samuel Little was their culprit, they needed to find him in order to prove it. Coming up, police tracked down little, but their search is far from over. Are you looking for support in your weight management journey? Zepbound terseptide may be able to help. Zepbound is a prescription medicine used with a reduced calorie diet and increased physical activity to help adults with obesity, or some adults with overweight who also have weight-related medical problems to lose excess body weight and keep the weight off. Zepbound is approved as a 2.5, 5, 7.5, 10, 12.5, or 15 milligram injection. Zepound contains terseptide and should not be used with other terseptide-containing products or any

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or visit zepbounds.lily.com. This episode is brought to you by Prime. Obsession is in session. And this summer, originals have everything you want. Steamy romances, irresistible love stories, and the book to screen favorites you've already read twice. Off campus, L, every year after, the love hypothesis, Sterling Point, and more. Slow burns, second chances, chemistry you can feel through the screen. Your next obsession is waiting. Watch only on Prime. Now back to the show. In April of 2012,

12, Los Angeles police detective Mitzi Roberts was hard at work. After discovering 72-year-old Samuel Little's genetic profile matched DNA found on two murdered women, Roberts was sure she had uncovered a serial killer. But before she could convict Little of murder, first Roberts had to find him, and Samuel Little would prove to be a hard man to track down. Roberts dug into Little's criminal record that noticed a string of peasant, petty crimes committed in cities across the country. She could see that Little was habitually itinerant.

He never stated one place for long. The odds that he was still in LA were slim to none. To pinpoint his current location, Roberts and Amador built a dossier on Little. They noted his aliases, Samuel McDaniel, Samuel McDowell, Willie May Clifton, Willie Lewis. Then they scoured rap sheets again and again, pulling his aliysses. up more arrests under his assumed names. They found records in Texas, Louisiana, Florida, Ohio. It seemed there was nowhere that Little didn't commit a crime.

He was like a ghost, everywhere and nowhere at once. As files on Little's criminal past piled up on her desk, Roberts felt herself growing angrier. Among his typical shoplifting and burglary charges, there were dozens of allegations and convictions for violent sexual assaults scattered throughout his record. And yet, decades later, Little was still on the streets. Roberts realized Little wasn't hiding from the law. He simply didn't need to. The system allowed him to rape and murder in plain sight,

with almost no consequences for decades. Little had no fixed address, no car registered to his name, and no lines of credit. Roberts' lieutenant wanted to release a wanted poster, but she feared if Little found out that police were looking for him, he'd disappear for good. But just as she was about to give up hope, Roberts found a lead. An outstanding California narcotics warrant for Little's arrest from 2007.

Even though they were five years late, it was still the freshest lead they had. They clung to it. The L.A. County District Attorney agreed to extradite Little, But the department was stretched too thin to spend resources on an unproven murder case. If Roberts wanted him back in California, she was going to have to find him herself. But soon after, the LAPD Robbery Homicide Division turned up an unlikely clue. They discovered that Little received his federal Social Security payments through a prepaid Walmart card.

Pulling up the card's records, Roberts found that it had last been used in a Walmart in Louisville, It was the break they'd been praying for for months, but there was just one problem. Louisville was far outside of the LAPD's jurisdiction. So Roberts and her partner, Rodrigo Amador, contacted the U.S. Marshal's Fugitive Task Force, an elite federal law enforcement body specializing in tracking down violent criminals across state lines. As soon as Roberts called, a team was dispatched for Kentucky. In September of 2012, the marshals located Little at the Wayside Christian Mission, a homeless

shelter in Louisville. It was housed in a nondescript red brick building a few blocks south of the Ohio River, taking no chances they stormed the shelter fully armed. But there was no need. Inside, the marshals found that their violent serial murderer was a pitiful old man. Samuel Little, now 72, was sickly, overweight. and had difficulty breathing. He hardly looked like someone responsible for the deaths of dozens of women. But whether 32 or 72, Little was still a killer, and Marshalls took every precaution as they escorted him from the shelter.

It was a strange picture, so many heavily armed officers leading a shackled and wheezing old man out of a homeless shelter. But though Little was in no condition to put up a fight, he wasn't giving up. up. Hunting him down was the easy part. Getting him to talk was an entirely different matter. After he was extradited to California, Little sat in jail, silent, refusing to speak with anyone. This wasn't his first rodeo. Little believed that if he didn't give police anything to go on, he'd be out in a matter of days, just like so many times before. He couldn't have been more wrong. As Little awaited trial on the California drug charge, Roberts frantically gathered evidence to charge him with murder. She and Amador entered more files into the Vicarp system for weeks, desperate to find a match.

One more victim would clinch the case against Little, and Roberts knew there were more women out there, just waiting to be uncovered. All she had to do was find them. And she was right. In November of 2012, seven months after she began her investigation into Samuel Little, Roberts got another hit. Little's genetic material was collected from the bra and fingernails of a woman named Carol Alford. Just like Audrey Nelson and Guadalupe Abadaca, Carol had been strangled in South Central L.A. in 1987.

It was just the break they were looking for. Finding Little's DNA and the bodies of three women killed in the same. in the same part of Los Angeles during the same year was more than just circumstantial. It was evidence a judge and jury couldn't ignore. It was a pattern, an M.O. Finally, Los Angeles Assistant District Attorney Beth Silverman agreed to bring murder charges against Samuel Little. Roberts was relieved, but she knew her job was far from over.

It wasn't enough to put Little in front of a judge. That had been done, and he'd still wriggled out of Justice's grasp. Roberts needed to make sure that this time she put him behind bars for good. So she had to keep searching, keep building the case against Samuel Little. Roberts knew that the three DNA matches she'd found only scratched the surface of his crimes. Roberts and her new partner, Rick Jackson, traveled to Pascagoula, Mississippi to interview two of Little's known living victims. Women he'd tried to kill and failed. The detectives had dug up their names in Little's old assault records.

Hilda Nelson and Layla McLean were both former sex workers, both black women, and both had been attacked by Little in 1982 in Mississippi. The two detectives hoped that if they spoke to Nelson and McLean in person, they could persuade them to come to Los Angeles and testify on the prosecution's behalf. But the two women were skeptical. After all, Little had escaped justice the first time. Why should they trust the system now? Roberts and Jackson attempted to convince Nelson and McLean that this time would be different. Roberts, herself a woman of color, assured Nelson and McLean that she valued their stories.

She was serious about holding Little accountable for what he'd tried to do to them. After many conversations, both Nelson and McLean finally agreed. The detectives arranged to bring the two women back to the two women back. to California, along with a local police sergeant named Darren Versaaja. Versaja had initially investigated Little's assaults on Nelson and McLean, as well as the 1982 murder of Mindy LaPrie. He never felt right about how the unsolved attacks on the sex workers in his town were handled. But when Roberts and Jackson asked him to testify against Little, Versaaja finally found the chance to redeem himself.

In 2013, Versaaja, Nelson, and McLean flew from Mississippi to Los Angeles to tell investigators their story. By then, it was a familiar one. Layla McLean recounted how little approached her on the street, offered her $50 for a date, and coaxed her into his vehicle. She then described how he attempted to knock her out. When she finally escaped the car, she was forced to run across four lanes of traffic, wearing nothing but she. shorts and flip-flops. Hilton Nelson's story was a variation on the same theme. She told investigators how she invited Little into her apartment,

at which point he started beating and strangling her. Nelson slipped in and out of consciousness throughout the attack. At one point when she came to, Little was attempting to drown her in her own bathtub. Eventually, she was discovered unconscious on top of her bed by her parents. Little had inexplicably left her alive. Perhaps he thought she was dead. Nelson reported her assault to the Pascagoula police, but they neglected to follow up,

and McLean hadn't even bothered to report. It wasn't until Darren Versaaja approached her during the investigation of Mindy-Lapri's death that she even mentioned to the cops that she was attacked. McLean told detectives that until a white sex worker died, no one cared about the deaths of black sex workers in Mississippi. Darren Versaaja had to agree. He told them it wasn't really possible to commit a crime against a black sex worker. It just wasn't a crime.

But it was. And in 2014, Samuel Little finally went to trial in Los Angeles for three counts of murder. And McLean, Nelson, and Versaaja were all there to see it. When it came time for McLean to test it, testify, she was visibly shaking. Halfway to the witness stand, she fell to the floor, sobbing. Nelson and Versaajasja rushed to her side and escorted her from the courtroom. After a short pep talk in the hallway, she squared her shoulders and headed back in. Determined to put the man who tried to take her life behind bars for good.

The trial stretched on for weeks, as witness after witness was paraded to the stand. The court heard her heard testimony from criminalists, expert witnesses, pathologists, police officers, and other living victims, and through it all, Little sat at the defense table, stone-faced. It was as if he were there by accident, a passer-by, calmly observing the trial of another man, accused of the most deadly murder spree in American history. But his stoicism had little effect on the proceedings. The jury listened to McLean and Nelson's moving testimonies, but after an empowered closing argument from assistant DA Beth Silverman, Little's fate was sealed. According to researchers, Steve Wood, Lori Sikofuse, Monica Miller, and Juliana Chomos, an attorney's closing argument is vital to a trial's outcome.

In fact, it's the one part of the proceedings that impacts jury members the most. an attorney's closing can sometimes be so persuasive that it becomes the deciding factor of whether a jury chooses to convict. And in turn, a closing argument has a substantial impact on the verdict itself. Before the judge even announced his sentence to the courtroom, it was clear that little was guilty. Ultimately, he was convicted on three counts of murder in the first degree and sentenced to three consecutive lifetimes in jail. According to journalist Jillian Lauren, who profiled Little in 2019 for The Cut, Mitzie Roberts picked an M&M out of a bowl at the prosecutor's table when the verdict was delivered. She popped it into her mouth and winked at Little.

She had won. But detectives weren't done with Little. With the murders of Carol Alford, Guadalupe Apodaca and Audrey Nelson solved, they still knew others were out there. They were determined to seek justice for Little's other victims. They weren't alone. Now that his first convicted murders had hit the news, investigators across the country started realizing that Samuel Little

could be the answer to some of their most puzzling cold cases. And soon they began to put together the pieces, only to find that the final picture was even more horrific than they imagined. Coming up, investigators attempt to eliminate. elicit a confession from little and begin uncovering even more victims. Yamava Resort and Casino at San Manuel is California's number one entertainment destination for today's superstars. Catch the Jonas Brothers return to the Yamava Theater stage on April 30th, the powerful vocals of Demi Lovato on May 17th,

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In 2014, 74-year-old serial killer Samuel Little was tried and convicted on three counts of murder in the first degree. But Detective Mitzi Roberts knew he was likely responsible for many more deaths across the U.S. Soon investigators throughout the country realized that Little may be responsible for unsolved murders of women in their states. and before long they were all clamoring to get him extradited to their own jurisdictions. But Texas got there first, specifically investigator James Holland. Holland looked every bit the Texas Ranger.

Standing at six foot three, he favored tall cowboy hats and an antique ivory-handled pistol attached to a double-rig belt. He had a reputation for eliciting confessions from killers. and he looked forward to trying his hand on Samuel Little. Holland heard about Little after speaking at a homicide investigators conference in 2018. There, a cold case detective from Florida approached him with suspicions about a murder in his state. Holland was intrigued, but he was a busy man. He couldn't take on an investigation without a related case in his own jurisdiction.

So, like Mitzi Roberts, he turned to Vycap to see if he could find one. With the help of FBI crime analyst Christy Palazolo and Angela Williamson of Vycap, Holland identified not one but three unsolved murders in Texas, possibly linked to Little, including the case of Denise Brothers. From that point forward, James Holland picked up where Mitzi Roberts left off. Holland officially requested Samuel Little's extradition to Texas, and in 2018, California authorities, granted transfer.

Howland knew Little hated Mitzi Roberts, and he intended to take advantage of that. He brought her out to Texas, hoping that having Roberts around would infuriate Little so much, it would spark an outburst that would break his stoic facade. Little's hate for Roberts went further than the fact that she'd put him behind bars. Given how much pleasure he got from dominating his female victims, it's likely he was particularly humiliated by being brought down by a woman investigator. Criminologist Jennifer Murray found that there's a sizable subset of violent criminals who are motivated by grossly misogynistic sexual and sadistic fantasies.

Their hatred of women is the engine that fuels their most violent impulses. Many times the violence is a manifestation of blame. Misogynistic killers see women as symbols of all their troubles and insecurities and seek to eliminate them. For Little, Mitzie Roberts wasn't only a woman, but a woman who embodied the end to his decades-long killing spree and his imprisonment. Little hated her with everything he had, and James Holland planned to use it to elicit a confession. Holland was practiced at fishing for confessions. He had a routine. First he began simply, Establishing a rapport with Little, contriving inside jokes and nicknames,

engaging with the killer's taste for gross profanities. This rapport would then progress to deeper discussions of childhood and families, disappointments, dashed hopes and dreams, leading to emotional revelations from both parties. Holland and Little became so familiar with one another during this time, they began calling each other Sammy and Jimmy. Holland preferred this more holistic approach. He found that positive conversations encouraged suspects to say more. And the more a suspect talks, the more likely he or she is to confess,

unintentionally or otherwise. But Little wasn't so easily manipulated. He was intuitive, surprisingly so. Somehow he knew Mitzi Roberts was in Texas consulting for Holland. And as long as Little thought she was nearby, why he refused to give Holland any useful information. So Holland decided to take drastic measures. He had Little transferred to another facility in the deserts of Southwest Texas.

He promised to fly Little there in the Texas Rangers' private jet. They would eat barbecue, he told him. It would be an adventure for just the two of them. No Mitzi Roberts. Once he was transferred, Little still had a sneaking suspicion that Roberts had followed them to the second, facility, and he wasn't wrong. As Little and Holland got settled into a new interrogation room, Roberts and a small team from

Los Angeles were gathered around a video feed in the room next door. Little wasn't fooled. He could feel he had an audience. When he turned to face the camera positioned in the corner of the room, his blood began to boil. In a flash, Little was up and out of his chair, a fist slamming down on the table's surface. He spat viciously into the camera lens. Roberts and her team watched from a TV monitor as little raved, calling the investigators dogs. He repeatedly refused to confess to anything, claiming the Mexican mafia had murdered Guadalupe Apodaca. Watching the man go from courteous to wild in a matter of mere moments was an eye-opener for Holland. It was the first time he saw a glimpse of

the stoic old man's darker side. Holland was getting a taste of the killer, Little once was. As Little spat and screamed at the surveillance camera, he vowed never to reveal the extent of his crimes. But through it all, James Holland simply watched and waited. He was a consummate interrogator, a master of connecting with subjects on an emotional level and slowly extracting invaluable information. And as soon as Little's rage died down, and undeterred Holland simply tried again. First he changed the subject. Holland talked about seemingly inconsequential things, the upcoming football season, dating, favorite foods.

His goal was to paint a picture of a world outside prison walls, a world where little could envision himself liberated. If Holland could get little to start thinking like a free man, Holland figured he might start talking like one. After hours of innocuous chatting between the two, Little's tantrum was long forgotten, and Holland's plan began to work. Bit by bit, Little confessed to the crime that drew James Holland into the investigation to start, the murder of Denise Brothers in nearby Odessa, Texas.

He recounted how he had picked up brothers as she walked along a deserted stretch of Industrial Park, how he had knocked her out, defiled her body, and ultimately dumped her corpse in an abandoned lot. In the other room, Mitzie Roberts smiled. Now they had it all on tape. With the confession secured, Ector County DA, Bobby Bland, wrote a letter to Little. If Little pleaded guilty, his office would waive the death penalty.

Little relented. Then, at trial in November of 2018, he pleaded guilty to first degree. murder. As he sat on the stand, Judge Den Waylon couldn't tell if Little was remorseful or simply resigned, but something had undoubtedly changed in him. The man before Judge Whalen was no longer the defiant killer who denied the murders of three different women in California.

Samuel Little was finally defeated. At the end of the trial, Judge Whalen announced his ruling and issued Little his fourth life sentence. But Holland and Roberts had little time to savor the victory. There were still potentially dozens more of Little's victims waiting to be identified. They got to work contacting law enforcement authorities in states as far flung as New Mexico, South Carolina, and Kentucky. In response, they received hundreds of profiles of unnamed female murder victims.

Dating as far back as the 1970s, any one of them could have been yet as a another one of Little's victims. James Holland returned to the interrogation room with new details of unsolved crimes in hand. There, Little surprised him again and again with more confessions. A woman in Ohio, another in Arizona, several across the American South.

And Little's supposed photographic memory helped Holland immensely with the women's identification. There was just one problem. Though he never forgot a face, He had trouble with names. So when Little described the location of a kill, investigators would scour Vi-CAP and contact local law enforcement. But Little's descriptions were often too vague to point to one specific cold case out of dozens.

He often hunted in locations with high crime rates, after all. The backlog of unsolved murders in these places was long. Holland was struck by an idea. He would test Little's supposed photographic measurements. memory by having him draw his victims. He handed the killer a pad of paper and a handful of crayons. Little had always bragged about being an excellent artist. Why not use that to the investigation's advantage?

Little began to draw faces of women. Some were dark, others fair. Some had long hair, others quite short. There were strong-jawed faces and ones with delicate cheekbones, but all were drawn beautifully, even in their many differences. And this spoke volumes about how Little saw his victims. According to sexuality and gender expert Jane Caputti,

targeted violence against women is often rooted in objectification, or the valuing of women based on their looks and physicality. Though Little could recall his victims' faces with such clarity because of his photographic memory, the way he drew them wasn't just based off of raw recollection, They were almost romanticized. Each of his portraits highlighted their unique beauty, implying that was what inspired him,

what he valued in his victims the most. While Little continued to draw faces, investigators were doing everything they could to uncover more victims. And by 2018, Holland and his team managed to match 50 murders to Little through the FBI's VICEFIAP database. But more than 40 of these women remain unidentified. Investigators were floored by these numbers. Never before had they encountered a murderer so prolific.

It seemed Little had left no corner of the U.S. untouched by his bloody rampage. Today, Samuel Little is considered the most prolific serial killer in American history. And with many victims still unidentified, his body count can only grow larger. But now, as he lives the few years he has left behind bars, The most authorities can ask of the old man is for him to draw pictures. Portraits of dozens of alleged unnamed victims of Samuel Little are published on the FBI's website. There's the tall Cuban woman with long brown hair murdered in 1971 near Kendall, Florida. A white woman with dark, almost black hair and gray eyes in her 20s, killed in 1972, somewhere in Prince George's County, Maryland.

A black woman in her late woman in her late woman. A black woman in her late 20s with short hair and a broad smile, killed in Charleston, South Carolina, between 1977 and 1982. The list is exhaustive, the blank stares of the portrait subjects gut-wrenching. But James Holland and Mitzie Roberts are still determined to match faces with names and bring victims' families a sense of closure and justice. And so Holland continues to meet with 80-year-old. old Samuel Little to this very day. They sit together in that cramped interrogation room, going over every detail of Little's half a century of murderous exploits. Holland asks questions. Little's memory is jogged. He puts crayon to paper, sketching out eyes, a nose, a pair of lips.

Another victim materializes before both their eyes, and the gruesome, tragic story of Samuel Little gets another page. Thanks again for tuning into serial killers. We'll be back Monday with a new episode. For more information on Samuel Little, amongst the many sources we used, we found the article, The Serial Killer, and

the Less Dead, by Jillian Lauren, to be especially helpful to our research. You can find more episodes of serial killers and all other podcast originals for free on Spotify. Not only does Spotify already have all your favorite music, but now Spotify is making it easy for

you to enjoy all of your favorite Parcast originals like Serial Killers for free from your phone, desktop, or smart speaker. To stream Serial Killers on Spotify, just open the app and type Serial Killers in the search bar. And don't forget to follow us on Facebook and Instagram at Parcast and Twitter at Parcast Network. We'll see you next time. Have a killer week. Serial Killers was created by Max Cutler and is a Parcast Studios original. Executive producers include Max and Ron Culler, sound design by Juan Borda, with production assistance by Ron Shapiro, Carly Madden, and Freddie Beckley.

This episode of serial killers was written by Jake Flanagan, with writing assistance by Abigail Cannon, and stars Greg Paulson and Vanessa Richardson. A beloved 75-year-old man washing up getting ready for bed is brutally beaten and killed. Despite an exhaustive investigation, the killer avoids arrest and then strikes again. I'm Global News crime reporter Nancy Hicks.

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