The Night Stalker

This was a fascinating book, mostly because the author has described everything as it happened, which I deem to be a very hard thing to do considering a) the subject and b) how much research he has put into this.

First, Richard Ramirez is a serial killer seldom witnessed. He was intelligent, driven by simple, yet complex desires, a Satanist and had a very deranged childhood, seemingly propelled by his family troubles, including a somewhat failed father and older brothers who were all involved in crime and drugs.

Add the facts that Ramirez was grown up near a nuclear bomb-testing ground and had some head-trauma at an early age, but that's not as interesting as the following, from the book:

Carlo: [...] Your cousin Mike had just returned from the Vietnam and he was stressed because of the war, from being in three tours of duty, and got into an argument one day with his wife and shot her and killed her. Could you tell us how that made you feel, to see that—and later on when you went back with your dad—

Ramirez: Well, yes it was—

Carlo: How old were you? Ten or eleven?

Ramirez: Thereabouts. I'm not sure, ten or eleven. I can't say for sure, I was probably eleven. It was a sunny day, I had been with Mike that day hanging out and...uh...he got to his house about 3 p.m.—I was with him. The incident happened...uh...he was arrested, taken to jail, His...Mike’s mother called my father and my mother a week or two later asking them if they would go into the house and get some things for them. I remember me and my father and my mother going. We parked the truck. Me and my father went inside not knowing what we would find—(Tape shuts off.)

Ramirez: It was the strangest experience. I mean being there after Jessie had been killed. The...the aura of it was still kind of like hanging in the air. It was...kind of mystical. I could still smell her blood. Sunlight was streaming into the room and you could see particles of dust in the golden beams of sunlight.

Carlo: What kind of effect did this all have on you, you think?

Ramirez: Strange. I mean to see something like that—the line between life and death right there in front of me. Intense. When she went down I saw it all in slow motion.

Carlo: He shot her in front of you, Richard?

Ramirez: Yes, me and my two cousins, his two kids, boys three and six.

Carlo: How close?

Ramirez: A few feet away.

Carlo: Your cousin Mike also killed—raped and killed, women over in ’Nam, didn’t he?

Ramirez: Yes.

Carlo: How do you know?

Ramirez: He told me all about it and I saw Polaroid photos he had.

Carlo: Please tell us about that, Richard.

Ramirez: He had a shoebox in his closet. It was filled with these Polaroid photographs of women and girls he took into the jungle and did.

Carlo: Did?

Ramirez: Raped and killed them. Sisters, even a family two daughters and the mother. He tore off their clothes and had them naked tied to a tree. In another one there they were dead. He cut off their heads.

Carlo: Did he rape them too?

Ramirez: Yeah, of course, while they were tied to the tree, all three of them, in front of each other.

Carlo: He told you this?

Ramirez: Yeah, told me all about it... exactly what he did. We used to go for joy rides all around El Paso, smoke pot, listen to the radio and he’d tell me what he did with the women.

Carlo: You know how many he raped and killed?

Ramirez: Over twenty for sure. He had photographs of diem. Young girls mostly; but all ages. They were the enemy; they were, you know, V.C., no one gave a fuck.

Carlo: What kind.. . what kind of effect did this have on you?

Ramirez: Heavy. I used to think about them, I mean all that.

Carlo: Sexually, Richard?

Ramirez: Fuck yeah, of course, sexually. It was all about sex.

Carlo: They were a turn on? The photographs?

Ramirez: Yes, very much so.

Carlo: Do you think seeing those pictures helped you walk the road you eventually traveled?

Ramirez: It’s hard to say. I’m not blaming my cousin for anything; I want that clear. This just happened.

Carlo: He also taught you about jungle warfare, guerilla fighting; how to kill people, correct?

Ramirez: Yes, he did. How to use a knife, where to shoot someone. How to be invisible at night... the whole enchilada.

Carlo: Invisible, how?

Ramirez: Wear all black, even shoes and socks, with a black hat with the brim pulled down to cover your face so the light can reflect off it. Avoiding the reflection of light, that's the key.

Carlo: Interesting.

Ramirez: For me it was all very interesting...I was already stealing, I mean getting into people's houses at night and stealing things and all that helped.

Carlo: Did he teach you how to shoot?

Ramirez: No. My Dad did. But my cousin told me where to hit someone for the maximum effect.

Carlo: Where?

Ramirez: The head, of course.

Carlo: Any particular spot?

Ramirez: Above the ear.

Carlo: And the knife, I mean what is the best place to use it?

Ramirez: Across the throat. It's called a stab/slash wound. That is you drive the point into the side of the neck then pull it across the throat. That cuts both the windpipe and the arteries, always lethal.

Carlo: I see. (Tape shuts off.)

The book is strong in the sense that it deals with a lot of details. While the court goings-on made me restless they were detailed enough to break out the innards of Ramirez's defense team's inadequacies, Ramirez's unwillingness to admit guilt and his slew of admirers in the court-room, surrounded by the victims' families and friends. All very strange.

The strangest of all is Ramirez, though; he killed seemingly indiscriminately to please Satan. As he did, he acted savagely. Afterwards, he behaved differently. In jail, he turned nice and courteous (mostly). Today he thrives on writing with people and selling drawings with satanic motifs on them, having married one of his suitors and biggest defenders.

The book made me cry and feel completely sick at times, as the first part describes his crimes and deeds in large. His family's involvement and bereft is described in great detail too, actually painting a picture of a very versatile man, a person and - thankfully - an individual, not a Monster.

All in all: brilliant research, but I still wonder what separates "criminalist" and "criminologist" in Carlo's world.

This was a fascinating book, mostly because the author has described everything as it happened, which I deem to be a very hard thing to do considering a) the subject and b) how much research he has put into this.

First, Richard Ramirez is a serial killer seldom witnessed. He was intelligent, driven by simple, yet complex desires, a Satanist and had a very deranged childhood, seemingly propelled by his family troubles, including a somewhat failed father and older brothers who were all involved in crime and drugs.

Add the facts that Ramirez was grown up near a nuclear bomb-testing ground and had some head-trauma at an early age, but that's not as interesting as the following, from the book:

Carlo: ... Your cousin Mike had just returned from the Vietnam and he was stressed because of the war, from being in three tours of duty, and got into an argument one day with his wife and shot her and killed her. Could you tell us how that made you feel, to see that—and later on when you went back with your dad—

Ramirez: Well, yes it was—

Carlo: How old were you? Ten or eleven?

Ramirez: Thereabouts. I'm not sure, ten or eleven. I can't say for sure, I was probably eleven. It was a sunny day, I had been with Mike that day hanging out and...uh...he got to his house about 3 p.m.—I was with him. The incident happened...uh...he was arrested, taken to jail, His...Mike’s mother called my father and my mother a week or two later asking them if they would go into the house and get some things for them. I remember me and my father and my mother going. We parked the truck. Me and my father went inside not knowing what we would find—(Tape shuts off.)

Ramirez: It was the strangest experience. I mean being there after Jessie had been killed. The...the aura of it was still kind of like hanging in the air. It was...kind of mystical. I could still smell her blood. Sunlight was streaming into the room and you could see particles of dust in the golden beams of sunlight.

Carlo: What kind of effect did this all have on you, you think?

Ramirez: Strange. I mean to see something like that—the line between life and death right there in front of me. Intense. When she went down I saw it all in slow motion.

Carlo: He shot her in front of you, Richard?

Ramirez: Yes, me and my two cousins, his two kids, boys three and six.

Carlo: How close?

Ramirez: A few feet away.

Carlo: Your cousin Mike also killed—raped and killed, women over in ’Nam, didn’t he?

Ramirez: Yes.

Carlo: How do you know?

Ramirez: He told me all about it and I saw Polaroid photos he had.

Carlo: Please tell us about that, Richard.

Ramirez: He had a shoebox in his closet. It was filled with these Polaroid photographs of women and girls he took into the jungle and did.

Carlo: Did?

Ramirez: Raped and killed them. Sisters, even a family two daughters and the mother. He tore off their clothes and had them naked tied to a tree. In another one there they were dead. He cut off their heads.

Carlo: Did he rape them too?

Ramirez: Yeah, of course, while they were tied to the tree, all three of them, in front of each other.

Carlo: He told you this?

Ramirez: Yeah, told me all about it... exactly what he did. We used to go for joy rides all around El Paso, smoke pot, listen to the radio and he’d tell me what he did with the women.

Carlo: You know how many he raped and killed?

Ramirez: Over twenty for sure. He had photographs of diem. Young girls mostly; but all ages. They were the enemy; they were, you know, V.C., no one gave a fuck.

Carlo: What kind.. . what kind of effect did this have on you?

Ramirez: Heavy. I used to think about them, I mean all that.

Carlo: Sexually, Richard?

Ramirez: Fuck yeah, of course, sexually. It was all about sex.

Carlo: They were a turn on? The photographs?

Ramirez: Yes, very much so.

Carlo: Do you think seeing those pictures helped you walk the road you eventually traveled?

Ramirez: It’s hard to say. I’m not blaming my cousin for anything; I want that clear. This just happened.

Carlo: He also taught you about jungle warfare, guerilla fighting; how to kill people, correct?

Ramirez: Yes, he did. How to use a knife, where to shoot someone. How to be invisible at night... the whole enchilada.

Carlo: Invisible, how?

Ramirez: Wear all black, even shoes and socks, with a black hat with the brim pulled down to cover your face so the light can reflect off it. Avoiding the reflection of light, that's the key.

Carlo: Interesting.

Ramirez: For me it was all very interesting...I was already stealing, I mean getting into people's houses at night and stealing things and all that helped.

Carlo: Did he teach you how to shoot?

Ramirez: No. My Dad did. But my cousin told me where to hit someone for the maximum effect.

Carlo: Where?

Ramirez: The head, of course.

Carlo: Any particular spot?

Ramirez: Above the ear.

Carlo: And the knife, I mean what is the best place to use it?

Ramirez: Across the throat. It's called a stab/slash wound. That is you drive the point into the side of the neck then pull it across the throat. That cuts both the windpipe and the arteries, always lethal.

Carlo: I see. (Tape shuts off.)

The book is strong in the sense that it deals with a lot of details. While the court goings-on made me restless they were detailed enough to break out the innards of Ramirez's defense team's inadequacies, Ramirez's unwillingness to admit guilt and his slew of admirers in the court-room, surrounded by the victims' families and friends. All very strange.

The strangest of all is Ramirez, though; he killed seemingly indiscriminately to please Satan. As he did, he acted savagely. Afterwards, he behaved differently. In jail, he turned nice and courteous (mostly). Today he thrives on writing with people and selling drawings with satanic motifs on them, having married one of his suitors and biggest defenders.

The book made me cry and feel completely sick at times, as the first part describes his crimes and deeds in large. His family's involvement and bereft is described in great detail too, actually painting a picture of a very versatile man, a person and - thankfully - an individual, not a Monster.

All in all: brilliant research, but I still wonder what separates "criminalist" and "criminologist" in Carlo's world.

This was a fascinating book, mostly because the author has described everything as it happened, which I deem to be a very hard thing to do considering a) the subject and b) how much research he has put into this.

First, Richard Ramirez is a serial killer seldom witnessed. He was intelligent, driven by simple, yet complex desires, a Satanist and had a very deranged childhood, seemingly propelled by his family troubles, including a somewhat failed father and older brothers who were all involved in crime and drugs.

Add the facts that Ramirez was grown up near a nuclear bomb-testing ground and had some head-trauma at an early age, but that's not as interesting as the following, from the book:

Carlo: [...] Your cousin Mike had just returned from the Vietnam and he was stressed because of the war, from being in three tours of duty, and got into an argument one day with his wife and shot her and killed her. Could you tell us how that made you feel, to see that—and later on when you went back with your dad—

Ramirez: Well, yes it was—

Carlo: How old were you? Ten or eleven?

Ramirez: Thereabouts. I'm not sure, ten or eleven. I can't say for sure, I was probably eleven. It was a sunny day, I had been with Mike that day hanging out and...uh...he got to his house about 3 p.m.—I was with him. The incident happened...uh...he was arrested, taken to jail, His...Mike’s mother called my father and my mother a week or two later asking them if they would go into the house and get some things for them. I remember me and my father and my mother going. We parked the truck. Me and my father went inside not knowing what we would find—(Tape shuts off.)

Ramirez: It was the strangest experience. I mean being there after Jessie had been killed. The...the aura of it was still kind of like hanging in the air. It was...kind of mystical. I could still smell her blood. Sunlight was streaming into the room and you could see particles of dust in the golden beams of sunlight.

Carlo: What kind of effect did this all have on you, you think?

Ramirez: Strange. I mean to see something like that—the line between life and death right there in front of me. Intense. When she went down I saw it all in slow motion.

Carlo: He shot her in front of you, Richard?

Ramirez: Yes, me and my two cousins, his two kids, boys three and six.

Carlo: How close?

Ramirez: A few feet away.

Carlo: Your cousin Mike also killed—raped and killed, women over in ’Nam, didn’t he?

Ramirez: Yes.

Carlo: How do you know?

Ramirez: He told me all about it and I saw Polaroid photos he had.

Carlo: Please tell us about that, Richard.

Ramirez: He had a shoebox in his closet. It was filled with these Polaroid photographs of women and girls he took into the jungle and did.

Carlo: Did?

Ramirez: Raped and killed them. Sisters, even a family two daughters and the mother. He tore off their clothes and had them naked tied to a tree. In another one there they were dead. He cut off their heads.

Carlo: Did he rape them too?

Ramirez: Yeah, of course, while they were tied to the tree, all three of them, in front of each other.

Carlo: He told you this?

Ramirez: Yeah, told me all about it... exactly what he did. We used to go for joy rides all around El Paso, smoke pot, listen to the radio and he’d tell me what he did with the women.

Carlo: You know how many he raped and killed?

Ramirez: Over twenty for sure. He had photographs of diem. Young girls mostly; but all ages. They were the enemy; they were, you know, V.C., no one gave a fuck.

Carlo: What kind.. . what kind of effect did this have on you?

Ramirez: Heavy. I used to think about them, I mean all that.

Carlo: Sexually, Richard?

Ramirez: Fuck yeah, of course, sexually. It was all about sex.

Carlo: They were a turn on? The photographs?

Ramirez: Yes, very much so.

Carlo: Do you think seeing those pictures helped you walk the road you eventually traveled?

Ramirez: It’s hard to say. I’m not blaming my cousin for anything; I want that clear. This just happened.

Carlo: He also taught you about jungle warfare, guerilla fighting; how to kill people, correct?

Ramirez: Yes, he did. How to use a knife, where to shoot someone. How to be invisible at night... the whole enchilada.

Carlo: Invisible, how?

Ramirez: Wear all black, even shoes and socks, with a black hat with the brim pulled down to cover your face so the light can reflect off it. Avoiding the reflection of light, that's the key.

Carlo: Interesting.

Ramirez: For me it was all very interesting...I was already stealing, I mean getting into people's houses at night and stealing things and all that helped.

Carlo: Did he teach you how to shoot?

Ramirez: No. My Dad did. But my cousin told me where to hit someone for the maximum effect.

Carlo: Where?

Ramirez: The head, of course.

Carlo: Any particular spot?

Ramirez: Above the ear.

Carlo: And the knife, I mean what is the best place to use it?

Ramirez: Across the throat. It's called a stab/slash wound. That is you drive the point into the side of the neck then pull it across the throat. That cuts both the windpipe and the arteries, always lethal.

Carlo: I see. (Tape shuts off.)

The book is strong in the sense that it deals with a lot of details. While the court goings-on made me restless they were detailed enough to break out the innards of Ramirez's defense team's inadequacies, Ramirez's unwillingness to admit guilt and his slew of admirers in the court-room, surrounded by the victims' families and friends. All very strange.

The strangest of all is Ramirez, though; he killed seemingly indiscriminately to please Satan. As he did, he acted savagely. Afterwards, he behaved differently. In jail, he turned nice and courteous (mostly). Today he thrives on writing with people and selling drawings with satanic motifs on them, having married one of his suitors and biggest defenders.

The book made me cry and feel completely sick at times, as the first part describes his crimes and deeds in large. His family's involvement and bereft is described in great detail too, actually painting a picture of a very versatile man, a person and - thankfully - an individual, not a Monster.

All in all: brilliant research, but I still wonder what separates "criminalist" and "criminologist" in Carlo's world.