It was October 1, 1979. The time was 2 a.m.
The victims were awakened by a male voice ordering them “Wake up, wake up.” The intruder’s foot was shaking the bed. As they awoke a flashlight beam streaked across their eyes. “Get on your stomachs. Don’t move, motherfucker, or I’ll kill you. Don’t move or turn your head.”
They obeyed quickly.
“I gotta have money.” He threw shoelaces on the bed. “Tie his hands,” the intruder snarled. “Tie it tight or I’ll kill you.”
Wife, though naked, did as intruder had ordered. Then he ordered her: “Get on your stomach.” He tied her wrists and retied the man’s wrists. He tied their ankles but he tied the woman’s loosely.
“Where’s the money? Don’t look at me, motherfucker.”
The woman replied that her purse was in the kitchen.
The assailant then leaned over them and said with a sinister whisper: “I’ll kill you, you motherfuckers.”
They heard him rummaging in other parts of house. When he returned he was more threatening. “I can’t find your purse. One move, motherfucker . . .” he warned with deadly intent. He left and ransacked the house. He came back again. “Where’s your purse. I can’t find it.” Once again, she told him that it was “on the kitchen sink.” Assailant untied her ankles. “Show me.” He pulled her up from the bed and pushed her out of the room and down the hall. When they entered the living room, he ordered her to lie down. He retied her ankles.
“Turn over,” he ordered. From the way the flashlight beam moved, she knew he was coasting it over her naked body. Then she heard him lubricating himself. He walked away and she heard him in the kitchen, then walking down the hall, and suddenly, without sound, he was there standing over her again. He knelt by her shoulder and pulled shorts over her head as a blindfold.
“Now, I’m going to kill you. Cut your throat.”
The assailant walked back to the kitchen. The victim heard him repeatedly mutter. “I’ll kill ’em, I’ll kill ’em, I’ll kill ’em, I’ll kill ’em.”
It was now that she heard him walking down the hall, muttering some more. She rolled and got up to her feet and start hopping for the front door. She tripped and fell against the wall. She still couldn’t see, but she hopped to the front door area. She was able to open the door and then the ankle bindings feel free. She bolted, screaming.
Victim then slammed into the side of the house. Assailant had approached her silently. She only knew he was there when he now grabbed her and pulled her by the arm to the ground. His gloved hand clutched her mouth. He hissed into her face: “I told you to be quiet.” He pressed a knife against her throat. He pulled her to her feet and directed her to the house. Inside, he pushed her on the floor and tied her ankles.
Having heard the screaming, the man believed she was being killed. He swung out of the bed and got to the sliding glass door (hopping). He got outside and hopped into the bushes in the dark shadows of the fence. He tried to break down the fence by throwing his body into it, but it was too secure. He fell down and hid in the shadows.
No sooner had he done this when the assailant’s flashlight beam coasted about the backyard, trying to locate him. No luck. The assailant couldn’t see him. He turned and went back inside the house. His neighbor’s lights came on and he began to yell.
During this time the woman freed her ankles again. She heard a vehicle leave. Believing it was the assailant she went down the hallway to find her boyfriend. Her blindfold began to fall off and she could partly see. She tried to put a bathrobe on over her shoulders, enough for modesty; then she ran down the hall and out the front door. Her robe fell off but she kept running. She
ran naked in front of a passing car, screaming for help.
At this time an off-duty FBI agent was in pursuit of a male whom he had seen darting off from the house down the long driveway. This male was wearing a ski mask. The agent had chased the masked biker down Queen Ann Lane, then left on Kellogg Drive and then right on San Patricio, where he lost him. The masked biker had dumped the bike, jumped over fences and must have run across the school grounds north again to Queen Ann Lane. The bike was a ten-speed 27 in. Nishiki. A black handled steak knife was recovered as well
The agent returned to his house. The female victim was lying on his front lawn screaming uncontrollably.
Sheriff deputies arrived to locate victim on her neighbors front lawn screaming. Proceeding up the long drive, they entered the house, saw the scene and then while searching the yard found the boyfriend still tied up under the orange tree.
Investigation showed that suspect had pried open the rear sliding glass door with a screwdriver type of tool.
The bicycle used by the assailant had been stolen. It was registered to a US parole officer. It had been taken from his N. Patterson Ave. residence sometime after 7 p.m.)
Shoe impressions were found both in the victims’ yard and in neighbors’ yards. They matched impressions found near the Parole officer’s house where the bike had been stolen.
Santa Barbara County sheriffs had little reason to believe that this was anything more than a botched burglary.
Suspect was a white male about 5 foot 10 or 11 inches. He was wearing a Pendleton type shirt and dark ski mask. The FBI agent also noticed he had some kind of holster on his belt on the right side.
Geography perfectly fits the EAR’s stalking/prowling MO. This was his first attack in Southern California and the first attack since this July 5 attempt in Danville.