Part 3 | 50 Shades of Evil: Washington - Ted Bundy

0:17 Welcome back, folks. I'm your host, Jim Chapman, and today I am continuing fifty Shades of Evil Washington covering Ted Bundy. Now, when I left you in part two last week, I detailed the murder at a ski resort near Aspen, Colorado, when a twenty three year old nurse named Karen Campbell was abducted from a ski lodge she was staying at when she was on the way through the hotel lobby to go get a book to read from her room. Bundy had become more brazen than ever by this point, actually luring his victims in public. And that brings us to March of nineteen seventy five. So, just two months after Karen Campbell's frozen body was pulled from that snowbank outside of Aspen, Ted Bundy struck again in Colorado. This time the victim was a twenty six year old woman by the name of Julie Cunningham. Now, Julie was vibrant, outgoing, and full of that energy that drew people to her like a magnet. Friends would call her Jewels, and they described her as the life of every party. The one who organized ski trips remembered everyone's birthdays and absolutely lit up a room with her quick wit and generous kindness.

1:37 She worked in Veiled Colorado, which is in the heart of the Rocky Mountains, and she had built a life around these ski slopes that she loved. She was independent, adventurous, and full of plans for her future more travel, maybe starting her own business. Definitely someone who could keep up with her spirit. She came from a close family that adored her, and she would share stories of life living on a mountain resort. Right on the evening of March fifteenth, nineteen seventy five, she was simply doing what she did best, living life on her own terms, walking through the quiet streets of Vail after dark, confident and unafraid in the town that she had made her home. As for Ted Bundy, he had driven across state lines again, his hunger by this point sharper than ever that failed escape with Carol d Ranch in the successful murdyer of Garon Gamble that had only fueled his arrogance. He was still maintaining his law school facade and Utah, still charming everyone who met him, but the mountains of Colorado had now become his new playground.

2:49 This time. He escalated that deception with a new prop, a pair of crutches and a fake cast on his leg, turning himself into a picture perfect example of harmless vulnerability. He parked his tan Volkswagen Beetle in a spot where he could watch the foot traffic, and then he positioned himself on a sidewalk like a man who you would think genuinely needed help. Julie was walking alone when he called out to her, polite, slightly embarrassed, the perfect gentleman in distress. He probably said something like, excuse me, I'm on crutches and I just dropped my keys. Can Y help me get them? My car's right over here. The voice was so calm, educated and trustworthy. The smile was the same one he had worked on so many times before.

3:39 So many trusting women would fall for that smile. Julie raised to be kind and helpful. She probably never hesitated. She walked with him toward the Volkswagen. They chatted briefly on the way, and once they reached that car, you know what happened next. That monster appeared. Bunny would strike with the same savage precision he had perfected, a crushing blood of the head, Julie would crumple, and he drove her to a remote, heavily wooded area in the mountains outside of Vail. There, in the freezing March darkness, the full horror unfolded again. He would bludgeon her, he would sexually assault her, and when he was finished, he would dispose of her body in a shallow grave. Now Julie Cunningham's remains were finally found in August of nineteen seventy five.

4:42 Her once vibrant face was reduced to bone and evidence of the brutal beating that she had endured. Her family and friends were shattered. They had waited in growing dread as days turned into weeks with no words. Search parties, of course, would comb Veil, hoping against hope that she had simply taken an unplaned hike and got lost. When her body was finally recovered, the grief became a wound that would never fully close. The entire Veil community, a town built on mountain hospitality and trust, was left reeling. Ski instructors, bartenders and locals who had laughed with Julie just days earlier now would lock their doors at night and look twice at every stranger, and y'all by this point you have to be thinking, how in the hell is this guy not caught yet after all these killings.

5:35 Now you do have to keep a few things in mind. Authorities were still more than a decade away from DNA being a viable tool in solving murders. Fingerprints, which Bunny didn't leave anywhere anyway, were really the only way to link someone to a crime. This is back when you had to do real police work. You didn't have all these cameras around, and you didn't have all these license plate trackers and things of that nature. But back to it. Less than a month after Julie Cunningham vanished in those Colorado Mountains, Ted Bundy would strike again. Denise Oliverson was twenty four years old, a radio young woman from Grand Junction, Colorado, and she lived and breathed for the outdoors. She was the kind of person who would find joy in simple things, long bike rides along the river, weekend hikes in the Red Rock canyons, and quiet evenings on the Colorado landscape.

6:36 She worked a modest job, but she dreamed bigger. She dreamed of travel, of nature, photography, one day, building a life surrounded by the mountains and rivers that she loved so much. She was close to her family and friends, and they would describe her as independent, kind hearted, gentle, and a free spirit. On Easter Sunday, April sixth of nineteen seventy five, Denise was doing exactly what she loved most, hopping on her bicycle for a peaceful afternoon ride along the scenic pass near the Colorado River. She wore comfortable clothes, her favorite sandals, and she didn't carry anything else with her that day. It was supposed to be just a quick, beautiful ride. Unfortunately, it would become her last. Ted Bundy he was already in Colorado, still commuting from law school life in Utah, still riding the high of his previous kills and the arrogance that told him he could get away with anything. He had no elaborate plan for that day, no crutches, no slang, no fake badge. This again, was a murder of opportunity for Bundy. He sensed easy prey along that quiet scenic route. He spotted Denise riding alone, and he pulled his tan Volkswagon Beetle alongside her, and he used that same charm that worked so many times before. Brief, polite, almost casual conversation. Whatever he said, a friendly hello, a

8:08 request for directions, a comment about the beautiful day. It was enough. Denise, trusting and at ease in her own territory, must have stopped to talk. Moments later she was gone. Bundy overpowered her and killed her in the same way he did with all the other victims. And when he was finished, he disposed of her body in the rushing waters of the Colorado River, a calculated choice that would make recovery nearly impossible. Denise Oliverson's bicycle and one of her sandals were later found neatly placed under a bridge along that trail, the only physical trace left behind. Sadly, her body has never been recovered. She simply vanished into the scenic landscape that she loved, erased by a monster who saw her only as a moment thrill. So the next victim I'm going to tell you about it's gonna hit a little bit harder because of the age of that next victim, Lynette Culver, was just twelve years old, y'all twelve. She was a small town girl from Idaho who came to Utah in May of nineteen seventy five for a youth conference. She was still carrying that wide eyed innocence that most kids lose somewhere around middle school.

9:26 She had long, dark hair, a soft smile, and she was the kind of child who trusted adults. She wasn't a college student. She wasn't hitch hiking after a night out. She was just a little girl, excited to be away from home for a few days, surrounded by other kids her age, full of the joy that comes with new adventures when you're a child. But Ted Bundy took her anyway. He saw her on the streets of Salt Lake City and pulled up in that Voltswagon. He used the same calm, trustworthy voice he used on g Women and Lynette. Because she was twelve, and because she had been raised to be polite, got in. What happened next is almost too cruel to say out loud. He drives her to a remote motel room. He kept her alive long enough to subject her to hours of horrific sexual abuse, and then he strangled her, slowly, deliberately, a child twelve years old.

10:29 Her body was found weeks later, dumped like trash in a river bed outside of Salt Lake City. The evidence of what he had done to her was unmistakable and unspeakable. And this, to me was the moment that Ted Bundy proved he had absolutely no limits to his evil. No age too young, no innocence too pure. He looked at a twelve year old girl and saw the same thing he saw when he looked at a twenty three year old nurse or a nineteen year old college student, an object to be used, broken, and thrown away. Lynette Culver never got to grow up. She never got to have her first real crush, never got to graduate high school or phil a parent's pride on her wedding day. She was a race before she ever had the chance to become who that little girl was meant to be. One month later, Bundy was hunting again, and this time he walked straight into a place where parents would think their children were safe. And I'm going to take you to June of nineteen seventy five and BYU. Brigham Young University in Provo, Utah, where a young, well let supervised youth conference filled with hundreds of teenagers, laughing, singing hymns, making new friends under bright lights and watchful adults eyes. It was supposed to be one of the safest places of

11:59 fifty teen year old girl could be, But Susan Curtis never stood a chance. She was fifteen, still carrying that last bit of innocence of childhood, and she was the kind of girl who hugged her little sisters goodbye, wrote notes in her bible, dreamed of college and mission trips with her church. And she came from a loving family that believed in the goodness of people. And on that warm June evening, she was exactly where she was supposed to be, surrounded by other kids, her age chaperones nearby, and that whole campus was lit up alive. But that didn't sway Ted Bundy. He moved through that crowd, stalking.

12:42 He wasn't a counselor, he wasn't a student. He was simply there, blending in perfectly among the older youth leaders. No one would even give him a second glance. He watched, he waited, and when he saw Susan, he chose her the way a wolf would chew pray. He approached and probably asked a simple question or made a friendly comment, making some polite request, the maid saying no feel rude, fifteen years old, raised to respect adults, she would follow Bundy. Then she would get in his volkswagon. He drove her out to the black Utah desert, where no one could hear her scream. And what he did to her there was monstrous, the same mo as the others. And when he was finished, he dumped her body in a shallow grave far from the campus, like she was nothing more than garbage. He no longer needed. Susan Curtis simply vanished from that youth conference, taken in plain sight, while hundreds of other kids kept laughing and singing just a few miles away. Her family waited up all night, then the next day, then the next week, and nothing ted. Bundy just walked into a church chief conference, stole a fifteen year old girl like it was the easiest thing in the world. He looked at pure innocence and saw something to destroy. He proved once again that no place was safe,

14:14 no age was too young, No amount of love or supervision was gonna stop this guy. And while Susan's mother cried herself to sleep every night wondering what her baby girl had suffered in those final hours, Bundy, he simply drove back to his apartment, cleaned the blood in his car, and kept living that perfect double life that had now claimed more than a dozen young lives. But the arrogance is catching up with Bundy. All serial killers do it. Eventually, they get lazy or cocky. They stopped being so detailed in their cover ups, sloppy in their planning. They start to feel untouchable, and that always becomes their undoing. Let's go to two point thirty morning on August sixteenth of nineteen seventy five, in a quiet stretch of highway just outside Salt Lake City. Most people are asleep. However, Ted Bundy was wide awake. He was still riding the high of his latest kills. And of course he's driving that same tan Volkswagen Beetle, the one that had already carried so many young women to their deaths. When a Utah Highway patrol officer noticed something off, the car was weaving slightly.

15:31 The plates looked suspicious in the officer, He hit his lights and pulled Bundy over. Now Bundy was calm at first, that famous charm clicked on like a switch. He smiled, handed over his license, made some polite small talk, but the officer he wasn't buying it. Something about this clean cut lost did it didn't feel right. At two thirty am on a deserted road, he asked Bundy to step out of the car, and that is when the nightmare finally began to crack open. Inside that volts Wagon and plane view were the tools of a predator. A pair of handcuffs, a crowball wrapped in tape, a ski mask, a flashlight with fresh batteries, a large knife, a rope, and an ice pick. The officer's blood ran cold at this point. This wasn't a kid with a joint in a glove box. This was a rolling torture kit. Bundy was arrested on the spot for possession of burglary tools and attempting to evade police. And before we go any further, I want to deviate for a second and just tell you about this nineteen sixty eight volts Wagon beetle that police would discover when they pulled Bundy over. It was very interesting in its modifications. It was actually altered to serve as a mobile hidden chamber for these crimes. The interior was modified by Bundy to enabled abduction transportation in

17:02 the murder of his victims while keeping them hidden from outside view. Now how did he do that? Well, for one thing, the passenger seat was missing. Bundy actually removed that passenger seat, and what that would do is allow him to lay victims flat on the floorboard and keep them below the window line, and that would avoid anyone from seeing obviously that whoever was inside and on the floor of that passenger seat, and it would avoid attention for Bundy. He also removed the interior door handle, and of course he did that to make sure the victims could not escape. Even if they were gained consciousness while inside of the vehicle, they had no door handle to pull on. And of course they found the murder kit that I just told you about. When they would examine the car, they would also find a lot of forensic evinence, including hair matching several victims and bloodstains beneath the door pan on where Bundy had neglected to clean. So that's just a little insight on that. So Bundy gets taken in and police were well aware by this point of a ted who had a VW bug that was involved in the attempted mall abduction of Carol Deant. Remember that brave eighteen year old from last episode who had fought her way out of the same car. This was just nine months prior to Bundy getting pulled over by police.

18:29 So they pay her a visit and they show her like a six pack lineup of photos, and immediately she identifies Ted Bundy. For the first time, the monster had to face a name in physical evidence, tying him directly to one of his victims. Yet even in custody, Ted Bundy omo slipped away. He was charming, articulate, he was polite, and he looked like the last person on earth who would have done the things the police were starting to suspect him of. Detectives would sit across from him and struggle to believe it. They thought to themselves, this guy, a law student, a Republican volunteer, this clean cut kid with the perfect smile. The initial disbelief was so strong that for a brief moment, it almost seemed possible he might actually walk free. His evil had hidden in plain sight for so long that even when the evidence was sitting right in front of them, some officers had trouble excepting this boy next door was actually the devil himself.

19:41 So for one terrifying night. In August of nineteen seventy five, the most prolific serial killer in American history sat in a Utah jail cell, where the entire case against him teetered on the edge of collapsing. If the police had blinked, if they had let that charm work its magic just a little bit longer, Ted Bundy may have walked out of that station, gotten back in that Volkswagon, and kept killing more college girls, more fifteen year old girls, more twelve year old girls. That body count already numbered in the double digits, and it could have doubled again, maybe even tripled. But the evidence held, and Bundy was finally in his cage, at least temporarily. Because Ted Bundy wasn't finished yet, not by a long shot. He still had two of the most daring escapes and criminal history left in him, and more women to kill, so by early nineteen seventy seven, the case against him had grown pretty ironclad.

20:44 He was extradited from Utah to Colorado to stand trial for the murder of Karen Campbell. He was being held in the Pitkin County Courthouse. This is an aspen, a beautiful old building in the heart of ski country and Bundy, ever, the narcissist, decided he's going to represent himself. He charmed the judge, he charmed the courtroom, and he was allowed to use the law library without handcuffs or even constant supervision, because after all, he was a law student, which how unbelievable is this, y'all? No one would even supervise him in the law library. He was polite, he was cooperative, and to them he was the perfect prisoner. So on June seventh of nineteen seventy seven, during a court recess ted Bundy simply climbed out of a window. He had spent weeks prior studying the courthouse layout, timing the guards, and he climbed through an open window on the second floor, dropped twenty feet to the ground below, and sprinted into the mountains behind Aspen. For six days, y'all, he was free hiding in the wilderness, stealing food, growing more arrogant with every hour than he remained on the loose, and the manhunt would be massive, helicopters, bloodhounds, roadblocks, But the clean cut lost in him, who looked like he belonged on a ski slope, He simply vanished into the trees.

22:10 He was recaptured on June thirteenth, exhausted and hungry, and y'all, he just turned himself in and he was thrown into the Garfield County Jail and aspen with tighter security, or so everyone thought. On December thirtieth of nineteen seventy seven, the five days after Christmas, Bundy did it again. This time, he had spent moss preparing. He had smuggled a hacksaw blade hidden inside of a legal file. He had lost enough weight by starving himself that he could fit through a tiny hole he cut in the ceiling of his cell, and late at night, while the jail was quiet and the guards were distracted, ted Bundy would crawl through that hole, crawl along the ceiling, drop into the warden's apartment, steal the warden's clothes, and simply walk out of the front door of that jail like a freeman. He stole a car, he drove through a blizzard, and he made it all the way to Tallahassee, Florida. Two escapes, two times. The system failed. Two times. A man already suspected of murdering more than a dozen women, was handed his freedom on a silver platter, because he was charming, he was smart, and because no one could quite believe the boy next door was capable of pure evil. Now, while Ted Bundy was on the run, first in the Colorado Mountains, then across the country to Florida, he wasn't hiding, he wasn't reflecting, he wasn't sorry, he wasn't planning. The audacity of these

23:44 escapes wasn't just about freedom. It was about proven to the world into himself that he was smarter than every cop, every judge, every detective who tried to stop him. He's the very system designed to protect society as his personal playground. He turned a courthouse, in a jail, and in nothing more than an inconvenient pit stop on his way to his next gill. And that moment, that moment that he reached Tallahassee, the monster was unleashed again with a fury that no one had ever seen before. So let's go to January fifteenth of nineteen seventy eight in Tallahassee, Florida.

24:38 And this is a little less than three weeks after his escape in Colorado. It's two forty five am at the Cayomega sorority house at Florida State University in twenty young women, sisters, best friends, daughters. They laid there, dreaming in their beds. They had laughed together just earlier that evening. They should secrets, planned weekend dates, complained about exams, and the house smelled like you would expect a sorority house to smell shampoo, perfume and Vanilla's scented candles. Now the doors were unlocked because this was their home. This was supposed to be safe, and this was on the complete opposite side of the country from where Bundy operated. Most of these ladies had no idea he even existed. In the darkness, Bundy walked through an unlocked back door like he in the place. No charm this time, no fake cast, no polite smile. The mask was completely off. What stepped into that house was something evil, wearing a human face, eyes black and dead, jaws set in an oak club.

25:47 Gripped tightly in both hands, he moved down to the second floor hallway with terrifying speed, in silence. First room on the right, Margaret Bowman. She was twenty one years old and she was the big sister of the house. Long dark hair, fanned across her pillow, her face peaceful in sleep. She was a girl everyone came to with the problem. She was kind, she was popular, and she was the one who made you feel like you belonged. Bundy would walk up to her bed, raise the heavy oak log high above his head, and bring it down with every ounce of savage strength that he possessed. The first blow cracked her skull like an eggshell. The second and third would turn her face into a mess of blood and bone. And while she was still twitching, still trying to draw breath through the wreckage, he wrapped a pair of pantyhose around her throat and strangled what little life remained, his face inches from hers. He wanted to watch her die, and he didn't stop with Margaret. He couldn't.

26:54 He was in huge rage that he never experienced himself a killing machine at this point. And in the next room was Lisa Levy. She was twenty years old, smart, funny, fiercely loyal. She had fallen asleep with her textbooks still open on the bed beside her, and Bundy attacked her in a demonic frenzy. The club came down again and again, eight times, nine times, ten times, caving in her skull until pieces of bone and brain matter splattered the walls. He bit her breast so savagely he left deep teeth marks in her flesh. He raped her while she was still dying, her body jerking helplessly underneath this monster, and then he left her crumpled on the blood soaked sheets like a broken, discarded toy he no longer wanted to play with. The bedroom had now become a slaughterhouse. Blood ran in thick drips down the walls. The metallic smell was so thick it coated the back of your throat.

28:02 But that monster, he was still hungry. He stormed into the next room and he attacked Kathy Kleiner with that same oak club, beating her so viciously that her jaw was shattered in multiple places. She would spend the rest of her life with a reconstructive face in nightmares that never fully left her. Across the hall from her, he attacked Karen Chandler, fracturing her skull and leaving her unconscious in a spreading pool of her own blood, her body twitching on the floor as he moved on. Then he crossed to the house next door and attacked Sheryl Thomas, beating her until her face was unrecognizable, her body broken and bleeding, clinging to life by the thinnest thread. A police officer busted in the house as he was attacking her, and Bundy made his way out of a back window and doing the right thing. Rather than chase Bundy, the officer rendered aid to Cheryl, and she would love. But all this death and carnage took just fifteen minutes, That's all it took. Two young women, Margaret Bowman and Lisa Levy, lay dead in their own beds, their futures stolen in the most brutal way imaginable, and three others, Katie Kleiner, Karen Chandler, and Cheryl Thomas, were fighting for their lives, their bodies shattered, their minds forever scarred by this nightmare that had exploded out of nowhere. And to me, this

29:36 was Ted Bundy finally letting the evil inside of him release completely. After two daring escapes from custody in weeks on the run. He didn't just kill, he went bersark. The evil inside of him had grown so vast, so insatiable, that it could no longer be contained and It's also my belief that Bundy knew, even though he had escaped from that Colorado jail, he knew that it was a matter of time before he would be caught. I believe this guy was so evil he just wanted to kill as many women as possible before that day came. He simply could not control the beast in him any longer. So the next morning, the Florida State University campus would wake up to pure screaming terror. Parents drove through the night at one hundred miles an hour, pulling their daughters out of school. The entire city of Tallahassee locked its doors, windows and prayed. The monster, who had already murdered across four states, had now brought his evil to Florida. In the worst part, he still wouldn't finished. Twenty five days would pass after the killings of the Cayamega House, Bundy still on the run, and on February ninth of nineteen seventy eight, he would appear at Lake City Junior High School in Lake City, Florida. It was a bright, ordinary Thursday morning in a small town where parents still trusted the world enough to let their kids walk to school alone and Kimberly Diane Leech was just twelve years old.

31:08 She was a tiny, bright eyed girl with long, dark hair that she would sometimes wear in pigtails, freckles across her nose, and a gap to smile that made adults instinctively want to protect her. She was in the seventh grade. She loved cheerleading practice, loved her little brother, loved riding her bike around the neighborhood after school. She was the girl who wrote I Love you on notes and left them on the kitchen table for her parents. And on that Thursday morning, she was wearing her favorite blue jeans and a lighttop, excited about another school day because she loved to learn. Little Kimberly Leech never made it to second period. Ted Bundy had arrived in Lake City the night before, still high on the frenzy of the kai Omega massacre, still running from the law, still convinced that he was untouchable. He cruised that school in a stole white Dodge van like a wolf, circling a playground. He parked near the back entrance, and he just waited when Kimberly stepped out of the building, just for a moment, maybe to grab something from her locker, maybe to get a drink of water. He approached her, and somehow she got into his van. He drove her away from school, away from the sound of the bell still ringing, deep into a remote swampy area outside of Lake City, and there, in an overgrown area near an old pig pen, he bludgeoned her, raked her, and strangled her to death. Twelve year old girl. The details of what he did to

32:39 her in those final hours are so horrific even seasoned investigators could barely speak about them for years. The small, fragile body of a little girl who still believed in Santa Claus and happy endings was violated in ways that no human being should ever have to endure. When he was finished, he dumped her like garbage in the underbrush, partially covering her body with leaves debris, and then simply driving away. Kimberly Leitch's disappearance triggered an immediate frantic search. Her mother, her father, her teachers, her classmates, everyone who knew this sweet, smiling girl tore the town apart looking for her, and on April seventh of nineteen seventy eight, her body was finally found. The scene was heartbreaking beyond words.

33:27 The evidence of what Bunny had done to her was so savage, so monstrous, that it shattered even the hardest detectives on the case. Bunny himself couldn't even bring himself to discuss what occurred that day. In his last interview, just twenty four hours before his death, he was asked about it by his longtime psychiatrist. One of the final murders that you committed, of course, was apparently a little Kimberly Leech, twelve years of age. I think the public outcry is greater there because an innocent child was taken from a playground. What did you feel after that?

34:10 Was there? Were there? They normal emotions? Three days later? Where were you did. I? I can't really talk about that right now. That's yeah, that's too painful. I would like to. I'd like to be able to convey to you what that that that experience is like that. I can't I want able to talk about that. Okay, pure evil. So, six days after he dumped the broken body of twelve year old Kimberley Leech in those Florida woods, the Monster's reign would finally come to a violent, screeching end when On February fifteenth of nineteen seventy eight, in Pensacola, Florida, at one thirty am, he got pulled over.

35:09 Ted Bundy was behind the wheels of a stolen orange Volkswagen Beetle. He was driving west on ITM with the kind of calm arrogance that carried him through those escapes and more than thirty murders. By this point, he had been on the run for weeks, sleeping in stolen cars, leaving all fast food and pure adrenaline. The cay Omega massacre and the abduction and murder of Kimberley Leech were still fresh on his hands. But he was convinced he was untouchable and he was going to get away. He had beaten the system before and he would beat it again. Well he was wrong. Florida Highway Patrol officer David Lee spotted the orange Beetle weaving erratically near the Pensacola city limits and something felt off to the officer. He flipped on his blue lights and sirens, but Bundy did not pull over immediately, and steady floored it. A high speed chase erupted on the dark rainslicked Highway tires, screeching, engines roaring.

36:08 The orange beetle fish tailing wildly as Bundy tried to lose this patrol car, but Officer Lee stayed on him. He called for backup, his heart pounding as a chase reached speeds past eighty ninety, then one hundred miles per hour. Finally, the beetle swerved off the road and slammed to a stop in a grassy medium, where Bundy jumped out and ran. Officer Lee would give chase on foot. He had his gun drawn, his flashlight beaming through the darkness. He tackles Bundy onto the ground and Bundy fights like a cornered animal, kicking, punching, clawing, and screaming. Bundy was strong, desperate, and completely feral at this point. The two men rolled in the mud in the grass, fist flying, until Lee somehow managed to pin him down and snapped the handcuffs on his wrist. Bundy was still thrashing, fighting when Lee dragged him back to the patrol car and radioed in the arrest subject in custody, white male, approximately thirty years old, driving a stolen vehicle.

37:10 And then came the moment that stopped every cop in Northwest Florida. Cold at the station, they run his fingerprints through relatively new at this time National Crime Information Center in CIZ, and the computer screens light up like a Christmas tree. The name that flashed back Theodore Robert Bundy, one of in multiple states suspected in dozens of murders, the man whose face had been on wanted posters from Washington to Colorado to Utah, the man every law enforcement agency in the country had been hunting. Officer David Lee stared at the screen in stunned silence for a long second. Then he looked over at the handcuff man. Lee later said the realization hit him like a physical punch. He just single handedly captured one of the most dangerous serial killers in American history, and the killer had been less than ten minutes from crossing the Alabama state line and disappearing again. But even behind bars, Ted Bundy wasn't done fighting.

38:15 The trials that would follow would become some of the most dramatic, most televised spectacles in American legal history. And on the final episode, I'll wrap up this series with that, in the eventual execution of likely, in my view, the most dangerous sadistic and evil serial killer in history. Thank you so much for listening. Check out the Patreon for commercial, free early releases and more. And until next time for Bloody and Gola, I'm Jim Chapman. Much love.

39:01 In the Fa