THE STRANGER BESIDE ME- Ted Bundy biography.pdf

THE STRANGER BESIDE ME

Ann Rule

ANN RULE'S GRIPPING TRUE-LIFE STORIES OF PASSION AND MURDER . . .

D LUST KILLER. One of the most terrifying true-crime stories of our

time ... One by one the young women vanished. Pretty Linda Slawson

disappeared while selling encyclopedias door to door. College girl Jan

Whitney never completed her two-hour drive home ...

Updated with

shocking new material about the monstrous murderer.

(154770-$4.95)

D POSSESSION. In a savage wilderness, a psychopathic killer sets out

to make a woman his sexual slave ... Joanne Lindstrom was a beautiful

young wife on a camping trip with her husband in the Northwest when

Duane entered their lives. Then her husband was gone and the only man

in her life was this stranger who demanded total possession.

(128966-$4.95)

D THE WANT-AD KILLER. The terrifying true tale of a master manipulator

of women. Brilliant and warped, he mocked the law in his orgy of savage

sex and slaughter from Alaska to Washington State to Minnesota.

(142039-$3.50)

D THE STRANGER BESIDE ME. Working on the biggest story of her life,

journalist Anne Rule didn't know that Ted Bundy, her friend and co-worker

at a psychological counseling hotline, was the slayer she was hunting.

Today Bundy is in prison, convicted of mass sexual abuse and murder;

here Rule tells the shocking story of this "allAmerican boy" turned

killer. (137116-$4.50) *Prices slightly higher in Canada.

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This is an authorized reprint of a hardcover edition

published by W. W. Norton and Company, Inc

The hardcover edition was published simultaneously in

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First Signet Printing, July, 1981

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Printed in the U. S. A.

PUBLISHER'S NOTE

For legal reasons, some of the names in this book have been changed.

This book is dedicated to my parents:

Sophie Hansen Stackhouse and

the late Chester R. Stackhouse ...

for their unfailing love and support,

and because they always believed.. . Æ

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Acknowledgment

I have been fortunate indeed to have had the support of many individuals

and organizations in writing this book. Without their help and emotional

backing, it would have been impossible, and I would like to thank them:

The Committee of Friends and Families of Victims of Violent Crimes and

Missing Persons; the Seattle Police Department Crimes Against Persons

Unit; the King County Police Department Major Crimes Unit; former

Sheriff Don Redmond of Thurston County; Lieutenant James Stovall of

the Salem, Oregon Police Department; Gene Miller of the Miami Herald;

George Thurston of the Washington Post; Tony Polk of the Rocky Mountain

News; Rick Barry of the Tampa Tribune; Albert Govoni, editor of True

Detective; Jack Olsen; Yvonne E.W. Smith; Amelia Mills; Maureen and

Bill Woodcock; Dr. Peter J. Modde, and my children, Laura, Leslie, Andy

and Mike, who gave up months of their mother's companionship so that

I might write.

And tortures him now more, the more he sees Of pleasure not for him

ordained: then soon Fierce hate he recollects, and all his thoughts

Of mischief, gratulating, thus excites:

"Thoughts, whither have ye led me? with what sweet

Compulsion thus transported to forget

What hither brought us? hate, not love, nor hope

Of Paradise for Hell, hope here to taste

Of pleasure, but all pleasure to destroy,

Save what is in destroying; other joy

To me is lost... ."

Paradise Lost: Book IX (Lines 469-79)

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Preface

This book began a half dozen years ago as an entirely different work.

It was to have been a crime reporter's chronicling of a series of

inexplicable murders of beautiful young women. By its very nature, it

was to have been detached, the result of extensive research. My life,

certainly, would be no part of it. It has evolved instead into an

intensely personal book, the story of a unique friendship that has

somehow transcended the facts that my research produced. As the years

passed, I learned that the stranger at the very vortex of an

ever-spreading police probe was not a stranger at all; he was my friend.

To write a book about an anonymous murder suspect is one thing. To write

such a book about someone you have known and cared for for ten years

is quite another. And yet, that is exactly what has happened. My contract

to write this book was signed many months before Ted Bundy became the

prime suspect in more than a dozen homicide cases. My book would not

be about a faceless name hi a newspaper, about one unknown out of the

over one million people who live in the Seattle area; it would be about

my friend, Ted Bundy.

We might never have met at all. Logically, statistically,

demographically, the chance that Ted Bundy and I should meet and become

fast friends is almost too obscure to contemplate. We have lived in

the same states at the same timenot once but many times-but the fifteen

years between our ages precluded our meeting for many years.

When we did meet in 1971, I was a plumpish mother of four, almost forty,

nearing divorce. Ted was twenty-four, a brilliant, handsome senior in

psychology at the University of Washington. Chanfce made us partners

on the crisis lines at Seattle's Crisis Clinic on the Tuesday night

late shift. Rapport, an almost instant rapport, made us friends.

I was a volunteer on the phones, and Ted earned two dollars an hour

as a work-study student. He looked forward to

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