True Crime Campfire - Because They Were Home: The Dartmouth Murders Pt 1

Episode Date: June 7, 2024

Schopenhauer wrote, “Fate shuffles the cards, and we play.” Every day, every decision we make sparks a chain reaction of others, leading us down a particular path. And with every choice, a universe of other un-choices spins away behind us, forgotten. We all like to think we’re the master of our own destiny, but sometimes…we fall to the whims of chance instead. This is one of those stories—of two boys whose monster egos sent them down a path of destruction, and two innocent victims whose only crime was being there.Sources:Judgment Ridge by Lehr and ZuckoffFollow us, campers!Patreon (join to get all episodes ad-free, at least a day early, an extra episode a month, and a free sticker!): https://patreon.com/TrueCrimeCampfirehttps://www.truecrimecampfirepod.com/Facebook: True Crime CampfireInstagram: https://gramha.net/profile/truecrimecampfire/19093397079Twitter: @TCCampfire https://twitter.com/TCCampfireEmail: [e-mail]! https://true-crime-campfire.myspreadshop.comBecome a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/true-crime-campfire--4251960/support.

Hello, campers, grab your marshmallows and gather around the true crime campfire. We're your camp counselors. I'm Katie. And I'm Whitney. And we're here to tell you a true story that is way stranger than fiction. We're roasting murderers and marshmallows around the true crime campfire. Schumannhauer wrote, Fate shuffles the cards and we play. Every day, every decision we make barks a chain reaction of others. leading us down a particular path.

And with every choice, a universe of other unchoices spins away behind us, forgotten. We all like to think we're the master of our own destiny, but sometimes we fall to the whims of chance instead. This is one of those stories, of two boys whose monster egos

sent them down a path of destruction, and two innocent victims whose only crime was being there. This is because they were home, The Story of the Dartmouth Murders So, Campers, we're in the sleepy town of Vershire, Vermont, on July 19, 2000. Andrew Patty and his 11-year-old son, Andy Jr. were cozying up on the couch at around 10 p.m., reading bedtime stories and listening as the wood stove crackled. He and his wife had purchased the house as a vacation home in 1999 and worked hard to make it a home away from home. They wanted somewhere to escape to when the bustling city life of New York got to be too much,

and it was important to Andrew to instill a love of nature in his son. The plan for this trip was to spend the week with his son and their standard poodle, Roxy, hiking and fishing and playing cards and generally doing the mountain man thing. This area of Vermont was safe in that there was very little crime. But like every small mountain town, most townies tend to resent big city folks coming in and appreciating their town a little too much. The patties were the target of a bit of hostility from one particular resident. Andrew wasn't sure exactly who it was, but they drove a silver Audi, and every time they'd pass, they'd yell something hostile but unintelligible.

It happened often enough that Andrew kept his head on a swivel and actually tried avoiding the driver in his mouth. That unpleasantness was out of mind, though, as Andrew sat comfortably on the couch, but Roxy was restless. She kept barking at something outside, and while Patty shushed her, he felt a little uneasy. He felt like he was being watched. Almost instinctively, he unholstered his 9-millimeter gun and went to go look outside. His son giggled and said, you're going to shoot a hole through the window, Dad. Patty shook it off.

He was being silly. He holstered the gun and settled in. After a while, he was starting to feel a little sleepy as he read to his son, an old-timey adventure story about a hunter. But then there was a sharp wrapping on the front door. Visitors weren't uncommon in this area, even strangers. Twice, Andrew had answered the door to a couple of unlucky drivers and helped them out without question.

But something about this put him on edge. It was too late, and the knocks were aggressive. insistent. He motioned for his son to stay quiet, and as he approached the door, he reached for his nine-millimeter pistol that he kept at his hip, especially out in the country. Keeping the gun out of sight, he pushed aside the curtain covering the door's windows. Standing on the front stoop was a tall teenager, wearing a white shirt, black pants, and combat boots. The stranger was too close to the window, and he was holding himself oddly, his hands halfway to fists. Andrew asked what he wanted.

I have car trouble, the kid said. Can you help me out? Mr. Patty weighed his options for maybe a millisecond before deciding. No. There was something he didn't like in the boy's eyes. Not to be deterred, though. The kid continued, well, do you have jumper cables? No.

Let me in. Can I use your phone? No. Come on, let me use your phone. The kid kept his face close to the window, close enough to fog up the glass. Andrew motioned to get his son close to him, blocking him from the windows. Roxy had retreated, hiding somewhere in the cabin. He drew the gun out from behind his back and made sure the kids saw it.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, the stranger said, upset, but something about the reaction was capital W wrong. He wasn't scared. He was angry. I just want to use your phone. Patty hedged, okay, I'll tell you what I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll call Ward's garage for you. Okay, the kid said, but please do that. Please do that now. The phone

was in the kitchen, maybe 20 feet away. As he rushed over there, his son followed closely behind him. When he picked up the phone, there was no dial tone. The phone was dead. Shit. He ran upstairs to the other phone, but it was dead too. His son started to panic. What's going on, dad? Andrew had figured it out. They've cut the wires. He threw a wrench in the stranger's plans when he didn't open the door, and the kid's insistence on him going to the phone was weird. Did he want Andrew to know that the phone lines were cut? Did he want Andrew to come outside and

check them, exposing him to a surprise attack? No, Andrew decided they'd stay inside. He'd be on watch. He and his son huddled together on the floor. Eventually, Andy Jr. drifted off to sleep, but Andrew Sr. did his best to stay alert, fighting off exhaustion. He sat on the hard floor, gun in hand, waiting for someone to burst in or for sunrise, whatever came first. Andrew Patty understood that he and his son, and their sweet dog, were in danger that night. He'd felt sure that if it weren't for his gun, the stranger would have come in and robbed them. What he had no way of knowing is exactly how bad it could have been. He couldn't have known that the stranger wasn't alone, and he was armed.

In his combat boot, the stranger had hidden away a hunting knife. And in the bushes next to the door, his best friend was also hidden, wearing a ski mask and clutching another hunting knife. At his waist was a utility belt carrying duct tape, a jackknife, and zip ties. Before arriving at the Patty home, the pair had dug a shallow grave at an abandoned house a few miles away. It would be another seven months before Andrew Patty and his family would have any idea what kind of horror they missed, a horror that would befall another innocent family and forever shatter the illusion of safety for an idyllic town. So who was this unhinged stranger at the door? Who was his friend, obediently sitting in wait to murder a man and his child for the crime of being at home?

Let's talk about it. The path that James Parker took to end up crouched outside the paddy home was a winding one. Chelsea, Vermont is one of the smallest towns we've discussed on this show. Their population in the early 2000s was about 1,200. It's the kind of town that Keith Morrison would wax poetic about on Dateline. He'd use adjectives like peaceful, quiet, safe. And for the most part, it was. People moved there to give their kids an opportunity to live a simpler, outdoorsy life.

He was born to a stereotypical Vermont couple, Joan Essery and John Parker. They moved to Chelsea from San Diego when their kids were young. Joan was a vegetarian, hippie, athletic type with a passion for the environment, and John was a thoughtful, gentle man who was deeply involved in the community. He was a youth basketball coach, owned his own construction business, and was the chair of the recreation committee. They had two children, a daughter, Diana, and a son. Their son, James, Jim, to his friends, was a bright theatrical kid.

His parents took care to encourage his talents, sometimes to the detriment of his education. One teacher recalled that he had a penchant for jumping on his desk in the middle of class. She observed, he was clearly looking for attention, and he was getting it. One thing that his friends consistently described about Jim was that he wanted to stand out. Once, after his elementary basketball team won every game but won, he suggested that they let the other team win, seemingly as an attempt to seem different. His teachers called him needy, but he'd later say that he acted out because school was often too easy for him. He described himself as a truly intelligent person, and I just started thinking that I could be doing better things. Well, bless your heart.

school's just too easy for you. I think I've told you all this before. And, you know, I got to say I'm a former, you know, high school teacher. I hate that BS. Not that it can't be a real thing. I mean, it is for some kids. Some kids are smarter than school. But that whole like, oh, I'm going to act like a jackass because I'm just not challenged enough.

It's just so gross to me. Look, I'm going to sound like an old man shouting at a cloud here, but not everything in life is fun. Kids, you're not always going to be challenged. Okay? Sometimes you got to do the laundry or work out a math problem. Life can't be a constant frickin' gumdrop orgy of joy, okay? At some point, we have to develop some self-discipline or else, you know, we're going to crash and burn. So anyway, that's my rant of the day, TM. I'm sure that was fun for everyone. Mr. Truly Intelligent had an interest in community theater, just like I did as a kid, and he had a blast on stage. James was a natural-born performer, and he'd always find

some way to do it. It wasn't until he was in middle school that he met Robert Tulloch, the boy who would eventually try to talk Andrew Patti into opening his front door. If the Parkers were the ideal Vermont family, the Tullochs were their photo negatives or dramatic foils. His parents, Diane and Mike, had four kids, two girls and two boys. They moved to Vermont from New Jersey, trying to find a better place to raise their family. Their marriage wasn't built on the sturdiest foundation. Mike, shortly after their wedding, struggled with depression and suicidal ideation and found solace in the bottom of a bottle. He eventually cheated on his wife, but they worked it out, and it seemed to strengthen what little bond they had. They were never quite comfortable anywhere

they settled. They moved around a lot, initially staying in Vermont. Robert, their third child, was born in a homebirth on a farm in the town of Sharon. He'd later go on and on about how special his birth was. He wrote, No hospitals, no doctors, no medicine, a pure birth, just like the days of old. I was born in the same manner as Jesus or Moses. Jesus and Moses? These early years, he continued, were the humble beginnings of an intellectual giant.

Ooh, boy. Put your galoshes on, y'all. It's about to get knee deep up in here. Actually, you know who he reminds me of, don't you? Oh, yeah. Elliot Roger, the supreme gentleman. He wrote just like this. Yep, same pompous. The world wasn't ready for my magnificence, kind of shite. By the age of two, I had traveled to four countries. How special am I? this little prick is up there with the most annoying losers we've ever covered. He's like the most annoying amalgamation of Rod Farrell, Dyson Koft, and, yeah, smelly it. And here's the thing. Robert was definitely smart, but I don't think he's the kind of smart he thinks he is. I think he's good with people. He's a manipulator.

And I think he has some book smarts. But it's soon going to become exceedingly clear that our boy had a big storm a coming when it was time for him to leave the sheltered little town of his youth. and joined the world at large. Robert Tulloch was always more slick than substance. When Robert was about six years old, his family moved to Florida to be closer to Diane's parents. Robert would later say that he despised living there, but he did make some friends,

despite some of his weirder interests. For example, the experiments he liked to perform with his toy chemistry set. One such experiment found him and a friend making a concoction to poison lizards. Fortunately, the lizards weren't hurt, but the intention was there. He was just bad at it.

How hard is it to poison a lizard? I'm just saying, like, Robert, bless your heart. You guys will find this as the episode goes on, but he's such a fail whale. He's just, he just, like, failure describes him perfectly. He just sucks. A legend in his own mind. Nowhere else. Robert was a callous kid by nature.

To the sunshiny Florida families, the tollocks were strange. Diane and Mike were antisocial, which isn't the worst crime in the world, but they also seemed to not care about their house or their kids. They were never home and really didn't have any idea what their kids were getting up to. Their daughter Julie had a neurological disorder that caused developmental delays and pretty much eliminated any impulse control. She had free reign of the neighborhood and often stole things from the neighbors. When asked about a missing item, she'd deny taking it, even if she was playing with it at the time. Robert also had issues keeping his hands to himself.

He once stole a friend's holographic Marvel trading card. Remember those? The friend, who noticed the card missing right away, went to Robert's house to see if he had taken it. Robert copped to it right away, calmly admitting that, yeah, I took it. So what? The friend was furious, took back of the card and demanded $20, and the kid was bigger than him. So Robert was like, okay, yeah, here you go. Like the whole thing didn't matter.

After about two years of Florida living, the Tulloch's decided to leave. Robert recalled being happy and noted that he hated it there. This time, they'd be moving to Chelsea. Robert wrote, beautiful Chelsea, my last American home. Lord, have mercy. Shut up. You pretentious little dweeb like he's frigging 17-year-old Garrison Keeler all of a sudden. Whereas in Florida, Robert was an outcast.

He had to like scrape around for friends. In Chelsea, he seemed to gather people around himself. His group called themselves The Crew, a name that Robert sneered at, but sometimes he used all the same. The crew was Robert, Casey Purcell, Kit Batty, Zach Courts, Colter Savage. What a name. I know, isn't it awesome? Colter Savage. God.

And eventually, Jim Parker. The crew set themselves apart by being the smart kids. They excelled at school and were generally good. They didn't party. they didn't drink. They did occasionally participate in teenage shenanigans, but they weren't out and out troublemakers. Yeah, they weren't like hanging out on street corners, wearing leather jackets, smoking siggies, and menacing the townsfolk or anything. Less street tuffs and more bored teenage boys who were dumb enough to let the ringleader talk him into any dipshit thing. The ringleader being

Robert, yes. Robert impressed his teachers with his reading habits. He had a particular interest in... Nichi. If we had a nickel for every time some wankstain had a weird fascination with Nietzsche, we could podcast full time. Every time. Every goddamn time. Like, I think this might be a little extreme, but maybe we add being fascinated with Nietzsche to the McDonald dodecahedron. You know what I mean? Like, just like it's not like a, it's like a yellow flag. Like caution.

Well, it's definitely going on the bingo card, right along with Mensa and, you know. So many other things. In middle school, Jim Parker met Kenan Tolik, Robert's little brother. Before long, Jim got close with Robert as well, until finally he just cut Keenan off entirely. Jim thought Keenan was immature and thought that he was above him. Where Keenan was quiet and still made fart and poop jokes, Jim found Robert matched his energy ideally, which, by the way, like, I think there's a time. So as a teenager, like, fart and poop jokes stop being funny.

and then as you get older, you're like, no, they're funny again. I think that's just a, you know, a phase of life. About Robert, Jim said, he's very intelligent. He's just ready, you know, to do something exciting. Side note, most of these quotes come from our primary source on this case, the book with Judgment Ridge by Dick Lair and Mitchell Zuckoff. Fantastic book, by the way. Like, brought me to tears at multiple points.

It's wonderful. For the dreamy and dramatically inclined, Jim, Robert was the idea guy. He had all kinds of thoughts about the world around him, about people and their failings. When Robert said jump, Jim asked how high and maybe added a heel click for flare. Yeah, as you often see with people who murder together, there's definitely a master and a blaster. Two people can't drive the murdermobile. Jim was 100% the follower and Robert was in charge. Like Jim's the little terrier trotting alongside the pit bull. What are we doing today, Spike? Actually, Pinky and the Brain would describe them almost perfectly, I think.

Oh, for sure, yeah. Pinky in the brain. For the crew, Robert's house was their main base of operations. The Tullochs were never home, and they didn't seem to notice that a gaggle of teen boys had taken up residence in their house. The freedom seemed to go to the crew's heads. Once, while Casey Purcell's family was out of town, Robert got something in his craw. You see, Casey borrowed one of Robert's computer games. and now Robert wanted it. He had a great idea. He and the rest of the gang could go to the Purcell

house and get it themselves. I mean, it was Robert's game after all, and they were pretty sure Casey wouldn't mind. So they loaded up into a car and headed over. Unfortunately for them, the doors were all locked. Annoying, but they found that one of the windows wasn't. Once inside, they quickly found the computer game, but also Robert found a VHS tape he wanted to watch. Then one of the boys grabbed a bag of chips and some sparkling cider. Then they played a game they called ball tag, which was some amalgamation of dodgeball and tag. Then they left a note and left. Except the Purcells lived in a duplex, and the other family just saw a group of boys scrambling through a window, so they called the cops. When the sheriff caught up to them,

only the driver of the car Zach was punished. Everybody else was sent home, while Zach had to do community service. To Robert, it was yet another lesson that he could do whatever he wanted without consequence. Great. Just what his personality needed. podcasts to Spotify. But the real game changer for me was Spreeker's monetization. Spreaker offers dynamic ad insert ad insert ads into your episodes, no editing required. And with Spreaker's programmatic ads, they'll bring the ads to you, and you get paid for every download. This turned my podcasting hobby into a full-time career. Sprinker also has a premium subscription model where your most dedicated listeners can pay for bonus content or early access, adding another revenue stream to what

you're already doing. And the best part, Spreaker grows with you. Whether you're just starting out or running a full-blown podcast network, Spreker's powerful tools scale effortlessly as your show grows. So if you're ready to podcast like a pro and get paid while doing it, check out Spreaker.com. That's S-P-R-E-A-K-E-R.com. Part of the problem was Chelsea's school system. They allowed students to work ahead in school

and accumulate credits ahead of their classmates. In his freshman year, Robert was taking an AP class on top of his packed regular schedule. For context, the students needed 23 credits to graduate, and Robert was done with nine of them by the end of his freshman year. Then his sophomore year, he did the same thing. Then all he had to do for his remaining two years was take one class a semester. The rest of the crew was ahead too, but not nearly that much, which posed a problem. For Robert, Jim, and the rest of their friends, that meant they had an overabundance of free time. And if you've ever met a teenager, you know that too much free time is pretty much a guarantee for shenanigans of the, you know, less than legal variety. Yeah, I was done with most of my required classes by my senior year as well, except instead of letting me just take one class, I could choose to do early departure or late Iraq.

and then I'd be in school for the rest of the day. So I was still in school from like, I'd say at the latest 10 until three. That's probably a more logical route to take instead of letting 16, 17, and 18-year-olds have a run of the town while their parents were working and everybody else was at school. Yeah, I can't imagine what they were thinking. That's just bonkers. When they were in school, Robert and Jim considered themselves to be better than everyone. They disrupt class, make fun of the other students, and in general, be smug little shit sticks all day long.

In an article written for the school paper, Jim wrote, in the third person, that, it's just insufferable, that if he had to choose a letter to be sewn onto his chest, he'd choose I for incredible. Quote, because really, honestly, he was just one incredible guy. An F might also do for Fabulous, but walking around with a big branded F on his chest might get get some funny looks, because it could also stand for demeaning words, such as failure, fraud, froth, fart face, fuck wit, ferret face, fucktastrophe. Anyway, I've been trying to figure out what on earth the article was about, and the only thing I can think of is maybe some piece on the scarlet letter, which shows a real deep misunderstanding of that book. Like, Hester Prynne did not get to choose the letter that

singled her out as a traitorous slut, okay? That's like the whole point of the book. Of course, I'm sure I just didn't understand it properly. How could I? I'm not near as smart as Mr. Incredible. Jim and Robert were the two members of the crew that were always together. They even looked kind of similar, tall, gangly, intelligent eyes observing you from under a mop dark hair. Secondhand clothes that didn't quite fit them right. You didn't really get one without the other. They'd drive around together, chafing at the constraints of the town they lived in. Inside Jim Silver Audi, they could dream about a life they believed would be worthy of them. By the way, remember Andrew Paddy's story from the beginning? How he was harassed by a driver

in a silver Audi? Yeah, we found our culprits. Anyway, Robert decided that he'd start running for president when he was 25, so that by the time he was 35, people would vote him in easily, recognizing his supreme greatness. He's so much like Elliot Roger. So much. Yeah, just take a second to throw up. I'll wait. From there, it would be an easy transition to world domination where everyone would worship him as a god among men. But before that, they would have time to join the British special forces as commandos, except that would require work. So maybe they'd just train themselves. Oh, sure. Why not? I'm sure you can. just Google all that stuff, right?

Mm-hmm. Yeah, seems easy. It's not hard. It's like, what? Like, it's hard? From there, they could steal cars and boats and sail around, except they didn't know how to sail, but how hard could it be? Once they figured it out, they could go to abandoned islands and hunt with spears, except

Jim didn't like the idea of killing animals. Robert, on the other hand, liked the idea of practicing for killing people with animals. Ooh. Or maybe they could become cyborgs to preserve their body. or travel to Egypt to discover the secrets of immortality. It's really interesting to see the inner workings of their friendship because their whole worldview was really emotionally stunted. I mean, it's weird to think about a 16 and 17-year-old

that genuinely thinks that immortality is a serious life plan or that they could sail around committing crimes without any consequences. So, you know, it's clear that they had a very vivid fantasy life. And as we all know, when that fantasy starts to overtake reality, the consequences can be pretty severe. Mm-hmm. In the fall of his junior year, Robert decided that he wanted to become a contributing member of society. He and Casey ran and were elected student body president and vice president, respectively.

Jim, whipped up in school spirit, was elected a sophomore class rep. Robert took the election seriously. Every day, he dress up in his singular sport coat and a tie and schmooze his fellow students. He spoke to everyone he could, being charming and complimentary. Oh, my God. Wasn't there an enterprising young Nelson Muntz type at that school? He's just begging for it. I know. It's so weird. Like, I feel like in any other school, this kid would have been bullied. Exactly. Jim, who knew Robert better than anyone, knew that this was just a way of Robert proving a point, that he was better than everyone, and the world should bend the knee to his greatness.

The authors of Judgment Ridge wrote, Robert was not so much interested in governance as he was in looking for a stage to strut a stuff, show off, and win what he felt he was entitled to. That's kind of a perfect description of Robert. He wanted people to understand how smart and funny and perfect he was without doing any like work to achieve it. Speaking of working, Robert couldn't be bothered to do any for the student council. When he showed up, he and Jim would make a mockery of the whole thing. To students who cared, it was a slap in the the face. He also chose weird times to care. For example, he wanted the winter carnival to include a hacky sack event. Everyone else was like, uh, no, that's stupid. And he threw a little fit. He said, okay, let's stop. The meeting is over. We're done. Pumpkin. Did the other kids fail to acknowledge your greatness? It would be one of the least successful years for the

student council in school history. Finally, the other students, including Robert's running mate, Part of the crew, Casey Purcell, had enough. They told the administration that they wanted to impeach him. I love that that's a thing in the student council. So one of the teachers was like, I'm pretty sure they just wanted to impeach him. They used the word impeach because of the Clinton incident because it was around this time. Yeah, but it's so funny for like a student council president to be impeached. That's hilarious.

Oh, boy. The principal called him and his fellow council members into his office, and Robert was incensed. How could they do this to him? What a bunch of cowardly mutineers. He was their leader. He'd never done anything wrong in his whole life. He was a selfless leader, and they were blindsiding him. The principal ultimately decided that impeachment was a little too much, and Robert kept his title, but ultimately nothing improved.

The council wouldn't get anything done for the rest of the year. This was the first blow to Robert's ego at the end of his high school career. The second psychic wound would come from his foray into high school debate. Oh my God. Of course he was a high school debater. Look, no offense if you were on the debate team. Okay, most y'all are great. I had friends who were debaters, but I think y'all know the type I'm talking about.

We all know this guy, right? Like the one that would argue with a paperweight and like can't turn it off and thinks that anybody who doesn't want to debate all the time is dumber than them. And that's why that's the type we're talking about. Yeah. Jim, always following along, joined as well. Chelsea wasn't exactly a debate powerhouse, and the weekly practice sessions were more like the Robert and Jim show than genuine practices. Usually in debate, the students come up with their arguments, but the students were so disengaged that teacher came up with their position and did the whole script for their debate. Dang, that is a shitty teacher. Jesus Murphy. I would eat my own book bag before I would write a debate script for my students. You might as well just call it in, you know, bring a flask of vodka, let the kids watch TikTok all day. Just, you know, you're done. You're burned out. But for the all-flash, no substance, Robert, that was fine.

The teacher had zero control over his students, and he later admitted that a different teacher would have been more strict. But no one in Chelsea would punish the golden boys of the town. They were just so darn likable. Allegedly. Allegedly. In the book, Lear and Zuckoff point out that Robert had a tendency to start strong with things and then start to suck as time went on and he either lost interest or got too cocky. He and his partner won their first three debates, but after that they pretty much went down in flames. Judges would note that he was undoubtedly smart, but he was really rude and rarely had evidence to back up his claims. He'd fit in great on Twitter then.

Oh, you know it. He was before his time. In one debate, Jim and Robert were partnered together to argue that allowing ebonics in school, what we used to call African-American vernacular English, would be beneficial for education. Our twat man and Robin took the opposing stance, and in their infinite teenage wisdom, decided to speak in mock Ebonics accents the whole time, so badly that their coach noted they were skirting racism. Skirting?

Honey, I cannot with this debate coach. Oh, my God. Of course, they lost, but to them it was all just a hilarious joke. The whole drive home, they were crowing about how hilarious it was that they ruined the debate. I cannot fucking stand people like this. Like, wow, dude, you're so funny and ironic not caring about anything. You really showed us. Congratulations that you wasted your time proving a point that no one was paying attention to. Are you proud? of yourself? Do you think we should call the president? Should we announce a federal holiday for you? Twat. Tick or take parade. That was only the tip of the debate iceberg, though. Robert was the last debater standing by the state tournament since most of the students had gotten enough credits to graduate by then. So the coach managed to find a spare student from another school to partner with Robert. This was a freshman, Luke, and he took debate seriously, and initially he liked Robert. He was quick on his feet and seemed pretty laid back. In the first round, Robert and Luke beat a much

better school, but lost in the second round, which put Robert in a sour mood. That probably explains what happened next. The final round found Luke and Robert debating the affirmative about educational success. Their argument was that installing skylights and bigger windows would boost grades. Luke, who didn't have time to research an argument, followed the script written by Chelsea's coach, and considering he didn't know the argument, he did pretty well. Their opponent's team included a German exchange student named Johannes Gamba. He enjoyed debate and especially loved school in America. This would be his final debate before he left to go home at the end of the year.

The Chelsea argument baffled him. It seemed nonsensical, but he wasn't prepared. He kind of fumbled his response, and to Robert, that was as good as showing him his soft white underbelly. He smelled blood in the water. Now, typically, when you're super far ahead in a debate, you don't go for the jugular at that point. you continue to point out the inconsistencies and just cruise to victory, right? But subtlety was not Robert's style. He wanted everybody to know what a superior being he was.

Robert cross-examined Johannes like a hardened 1960 detective. Johannes, who wasn't a native English speaker, had a hard time understanding because Robert was going so fast. At one question, Johannes paused for a second and Robert said, you're just a German. How can you know? Wow, charming. The mood in the room immediately shifted. Luke and Robert had a pretty easy win, but now, with that one xenophobic remark,

the debate slipped out of his hands. Luke begged Robert to apologize, but Robert, of course, refused. Then, Luke had to use his remaining time to apologize on his partner's behalf. How freaking embarrassing. For his part, Johannes wasn't really hurt. He just observed that Robert seemed pretty uppity.

which I love, and out of control, yeah. The judge, who was a local politician, said that his first instinct was to disqualify Chelsea as soon as the incident happened, but he let the debate continue. He thought that Robert was an arrogant little prick, my words, not his, and that Robert's statement about his opponent's nationality was, quote, chilling. His words, not mine. Instead, he declared that Johannes' team won and that Robert's remark was, quote, tantamount to watching a boxing match and having one of the boxers bring a fist into his opponent's groin. Robert was furious. Afterwards, he stomped over to his coach and said,

We're smarter than those guys. How could he do this to us? This second humiliation put things in perspective for Robert. He was too good for Chelsea. Too good for the U.S. He wanted to be somewhere that his genius would be appreciated. And of course, any trip wouldn't be complete without his trusty sidekick. Jim and Robert decided that they'd move to Germany.

Or maybe Australia. And I have to wonder if the Germany thing was because he wanted to hunt down Johannes. Like I genuinely believe that it was a revenge fantasy. Because like he had no interest in, he doesn't speak German. He has no idea what he's fucking talking about. The problem was, of course, money. How did two little geniuses get the cash to go on an international adventure? They hatched a plan.

They would con their way into someone's house, murder them, and rob them. They had a few targets, one being the patty home. Their initial attempt was in July of 2000, and they wouldn't try again until January of the next year. Once that failed, they had to regroup. Maybe they'd try Hanover in New Hampshire. The boys hated Hanover. It was a wealthy town about 40 minutes away from Chelsea

and home to the imminent Dartmouth College. It was filled with a bunch of squares who were obviously inferior to these giants of intellect. Hanover would give them what they needed. Obviously, the preppy residents kept oodles of cash under their beds. It would be enough to start over. Two such residents of Hanover were Holf and Susanna Zantop. They were German immigrants who brought their two daughters over to the U.S. on a boat in 1976.

Holf, 37 at the time, had gotten hired as a professor of geology at Dartmouth College. After her children were over, Susanna finished her Ph.D. and took a job as a professor of German and comparative literature. Hulf and Susanna are the platonic ideal of professor. They were thoughtful, passionate, lifelong learners. Everyone around them adored them. Their students regularly ranked them at the top of their list of favorite professors. They were in big time, all-consuming romance movie love.

When he was out on geology field trips, Hulf would almost immediately find a place to plug in his laptop so he could email his wife to tell her how much he missed her. Two of their friends wrote, Their mutual devotion was based on the respect they held for each other's ways of being. She, for Hulf's methodical, exacting attention to detail, for his calm and thoughtfulness, his ingenuity and expertise, he for Susanna's tireless energy, critical and quick mind, her strong opinions, her intensity and passion for her work, what they had in common was their

endless generosity, the openness of their home, their commitment to social justice, and the high standards they set for themselves. Yeah, these people were absolute goals in every possible way. The kind of people you would love to have as friends or parents. Saturday, January 27th, was a normal day. Hulf, ever the early riser, usually brought tea to bed for his wife. When she was ready to take on the day, Susanna would listen to NPR and do some chores. Then they'd email their friends or send messages to their local representatives.

That's not a joke. They literally were so politically involved. I'm obsessed with these people. Around 11.30, they'd sit down for lunch together. Today, their meal preparations were interrupted by a knock at the door. Hoff was greeted by two tall and gangly teenage boys. They identified themselves as students from a private school just over the border in Vermont. They had to do an environmental survey for school, and did Hoff have time to speak with them for a little bit?

Holf hesitated. He and his wife were just about to sit down for lunch. Sizano was chopping vegetables. He asked them to wait just a moment while he consulted his wife. One thing the Xantops were supremely passionate about was the environment. Who better to teach these young men about something so important? Smiling, Hoff opened the door wide, allowing Jim Parker and Robert Tollick to step inside. And we're going to leave it there for part one.

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