Extreme Evil - Taking Crime to the Next Level (True Crime)

by Ray Black

  Thanks to a college ID sticker in his windscreen provided by his mother, a university employee at the time, he was able to move freely without suspicion around the campuses. He picked up around one hundred and fifty hitch-hikers before finally succumbing to what he called the little zapples – the sexual urges to kill.

  Between May 1972 and February 1973 Edmund embarked on a killing spree, strangling and shooting six female students. He then took their bodies to his mother’s house where he would sexually abuse the corpses before decapitating, dismembering and finally dumping the remains. The day after he murdered dance student Aiko Koo, he appeared before a psychiatric panel to determine his mental state. They passed him mentally fit and suitably reformed while Koo’s head lay in the trunk of his car outside.

  MUM’S THE WORD

  Having successfully pulled the wool over the eyes of his evaluators, Kemper now focused his rage on the individual he truly blamed for his behaviour: Clarnell Strandberg, his mother. On Good Friday, Edmund took a claw hammer and bludgeoned to death the source of his rage while she slept. He then severed her head and used it for oral sex then placed it on the mantelpiece and used it for dart practice. As he vented his anger towards her decapitated head, Edmund savoured the moment; it was the first time in a long time that his mother did not argue back.

  Once he had said his piece, he cut out his mother’s tongue and vocal cords and shoved them down the garbage disposal. Unable to break down the tough tissue, the machine spat her tongue back out. It seemed Edmund couldn’t silence his mother completely. His anger still not sated, he called his mother’s best friend, one Sara Sally Hallett, over for dinner. On entering the house, Kemper choked her to death, removed her head and stuffed both bodies into closets.

  Fleeing the duplex in Hallet’s car, Edmund drove eastwards, heading out of California. Popping caffeine pills, he travelled 1,500 miles, aiming to distance himself from his crimes. Thinking the nation would now know all, he turned on the radio, expecting to catch a news flash. But there was nothing. Disappointed, Kemper pulled over in Pueblo, Colorado to telephone the Santa Cruz police. Each time he tried to confess his misdeeds, the officer on the other end treated it like a crank call. When the authorities finally realized his disclosure was genuine, they found Edmund Kemper waiting in the car for them with three guns and 200 rounds of ammunition.

  A CALL FOR TORTURE

  In custody, Kemper described his crimes in full gory detail, confessing to eight murders. He then took detectives on a tour of his burial and dump sites in Carmel, Boulder Creek and Eden Canyon near San Francisco. Following his arraignment on eight counts of first-degree murder in May 1973, Big Ed attempted suicide on two occasions, failing both times. He underwent a thorough psychiatric evaluation and was deemed fit to stand trial.

  On 23 October, his case came to court. While three separate prosecution psychiatrists found him sane, Kemper pleaded insanity and did all he could to persuade the jury of his unstable mental state. He admitted to necrophilia, cannibalism and called for the judge to issue a sentence of death by torture. When asked what he thought when he saw a pretty girl walking down the street, the six men and six women of the jury heard his disturbing reply: that he wondered how her head would look on a stick.

  Despite Kemper’s admission, his peers took five hours to find him sane and then guilty on all eight counts. With a moratorium on capital punishment in the United States at that time, the defendant did not get his wish for death but received life imprisonment. He now resides at the Vacaville Medical Facility in Solano County, California and his next scheduled parole hearing is due in 2012.

  Eric Smith

  In a small farming community in up-state New York, a freckle-faced fiend lured a younger child to his death, violating his body with a savagery exceeding his thirteen years.

  EXPLOSIVE ERIC

  By the time Eric Smith came into the world on 22 January 1980 significant damage had already been done. His mother Tammy had taken Tridione during the pregnancy to combat her epilepsy; a drug known to cause birth defects. Born small in size and with low-set protruding ears, Eric threw regular temper tantrums as a toddler, banging his head on the floor when he failed to get his own way. His parents quickly discovered their little boy also possessed learning difficulties. Struggling in class, he was forced to repeat a year but being held back was the least of his worries.

  School for Eric became a living hell. Not only did his deformed ears and weak frame make him an easy target for bullies, but his bright red hair singled him out from the crowd as a sure-fire scapegoat. Beaten over the head with books to being the sitting duck for spit balls, the endless abuse he received turned Eric into an outcast. With no friends to speak of in this rural village of Savona, New York, he went to his great-grandmother for emotional support but when she died in 1989 he was alone once more.

  Constantly being told he was nothing, his anger began to bubble up inside. With nobody else to talk to he approached his hot-tempered stepfather, Ted Smith, for help. Downplaying the problem, he told him to take out the frustration on something inanimate. But bloodying his knuckles on a bag or the trunk of a tree only served as a short term solution.

  By now, Eric was suffering from intermittent explosive disorder. Unable to control his emotional responses, he would often fly off into a rage and soon needed more than a punch bag to cool his temper. Next, he focused his attention on living things and the first to feel his wrath was the neighbour’s cat which he strangled. He also drowned birds and shot at dogs with his BB gun in a bid to quell the fire within him. It did not take long before this ticking time bomb progressed to something larger.

  DERRICK ROBIE DUPED

  In the summer of 1993, Derrick Robie, a blonde-haired, blithe-spirited boy just four years of age woke up every morning eager to play ball; the excitable infant loved baseball, often donning the outfit of his favourite team. Thankfully, a youth summer camp, a locally-run recreation program in the nearby park, provided the necessary focus for his boundless energy. However, on the morning of 2 August, Derrick’s mother, Doreen, was running late.

  Keen to attend camp, little Derrick refused to wait to be taken by his mother and said he would go on his own. With no roads to cross and the park less than a block away, Doreen saw no danger in letting him walk unaccompanied, even if it was the first time he would do so. Sending her son off with a kiss, Doreen watched Eric step out into the big bad world. She would have no idea that in less than ten minutes he would be dead.

  Walking down the street on his first solo journey, Derrick was just 400 yards from his destination when Eric Smith entered his life. The angry redhead was riding his bike when he saw the four-year-old heading for the park. He did not know his name but knew he was defenceless. When Eric called out, Derrick stopped and turned around. The older boy then suggested they take a short-cut to the summer camp, coaxing Derrick to follow him with the assurance that nothing bad would happen. This was a lie.

  VICTIM BECOMES VILLAIN

  Eric led his victim through a wooded area adjacent to the park. Once out of plain sight, the heinous redhead began to choke him. Derrick thrashed and flailed, fighting for his life, while Eric squeezed his tiny neck, picturing the faces of the bullies that had abused him at school. Once his prey was out cold, the freckle-faced strangler grabbed two rocks from the dirt and used them to bash in the boy’s head. Eleven blows later and there was silence.

  Sadly, the ordeal was not over for Derrick Robie. Despite having choked the boy unconscious and striking him repeatedly over the head, Eric was still unsure whether the boy was dead. Unable to run the risk of him surviving and telling tales, Smith resolved to stop his heart. He found a stick and began poking the body, but could not puncture the skin. Eric then sodomised Derrick with the tree limb, enjoying the power he wielded over another – a new and pleasurable experience as for once Eric was not the victim.

  The pushover turned persecutor then ripped open the boy’s canvas bag and found his lunch box. Inside w
as a banana, which he squashed, and a flask of Kool Aid which he proceeded to pour over the lifeless, violated body. Finally, he took a plastic sandwich bag and stuffed it down Derrick’s throat. After returning several times to the murder site to check there were no signs of life, Eric headed home, washing his hands of blood and dumping his stained clothes into the laundry basket.

  POSED FOR POLICE

  Later on that morning at approximately eleven o’clock, Doreen Robie went to pick up her son from the day camp. To her dismay, she was informed he had never arrived. Following a missing persons report made to police, a massive search of the surrounding area got under way. Four hours into the hunt for Derrick they found his body in a small patch of brush under a copse of trees.

  The four-year-old had suffered multiple skull fractures, severe cerebral swelling, his intestinal wall had been perforated and there were haemorrhages on his neck and face consistent with strangulation. While asphyxia had been a contributing factor to his death, an autopsy revealed the primary cause was blunt force trauma. His body had also been posed with his left shoe by his right hand and his right shoe by his left hand. Due to the nature of his injuries, police believed they were looking for an adult and possibly a paedophile in the local area. As part of the investigation, around five hundred witnesses were interviewed including young Eric.

  On Thursday 5 August Tammy Smith accom-panied her son to the police command post to help with enquiries. Following the interview, detectives felt compelled to pay a visit to the Smith household. There had been some discrepancies in Eric’s story that needed to be resolved.

  STORY SWITCH

  The young teen had stated during the first interview that he had not seen Derrick on the day of his murder, but when investigating officers spoke with him at his home later that night, Eric quickly changed his story. He now admitted seeing the Robie child early that morning and proceeded to describe Derrick’s clothing and bag in great detail. While the about-turn was suspicious there was something else that concerned the detectives. Eric had recently broken his glasses meaning his myopia prevented him from making such an accurate description from the other side of the street.

  The next day Eric was asked to show officers where he was when he saw Derrick. Riding his bike, reliving the experience, the thirteen-year-old was anything but solemn. Instead, he seemed upbeat, enjoying the attention he was getting from his new-found ’playmates’. But hiding his terrible secret was too much for Eric and on 8th August, two days after Derrick Robie’s funeral, he broke down in front of his mother and confessed to murdering the little boy.

  DIAMOND FOR DERRICK

  As news of the killing sent shock waves through this tiny, rural village in upstate New York, Eric Smith underwent a thorough psychiatric testing. While no brain abnormalities were discovered, his intermittent explosive disorder along with ADHD was detected, providing some small clue as to why Eric had acted in such a violent, cold-blooded manner.

  His trial began in the summer of 1994 at which the hot-tempered teen pleaded not guilty by reason of insanity. The jury, however, sided with the prosecution who believed Derrick Robie’s murderer understood right from wrong and knew he was about to commit a crime when he coaxed the boy into the woods, away from prying eyes. On 16 August, Eric Smith was convicted of second-degree murder and sentenced to the maximum term possible for juvenile criminals: nine years to life in prison. While the child convict sat behind bars at the Brookwood Juvenile Detention Center, volunteers bulldozed the murder site and, in memory of the boy who loved baseball, created a new diamond.

  A statue was also erected, showing Derrick Robie kitted out in his team’s outfit. As the inscription stated, this was, ‘a gentle reminder of what childhood is meant to be’.

  In April 2010, Eric Smith had his fifth parole appeal rejected since his transfer to Clinton Correctional Facility, a maximum security prison in Dannemora, New York. His next hearing is scheduled for April 2012, when he hopes he will gain his freedom and return to Savona, much to the fear of the Robies and the other residents.

  The Jason Sweeney Murder

  With a promise of sex, a juvenile jezebel lures her date to a remote spot where a thrill-seeking threesome execute a murder plot turning a romantic rendezvous into a brutal bloodbath.

  BAD COMPANY

  At odds with its nickname, the City of Brotherly Love, Philadelphia has long held a reputation for violence and crime. And in 2003 – despite its murder rate dropping faster than any other metropolis in the United States – an evil act in a north-east district proved to be a shocking example of such vice. Once a centre of the shad fishing industry, Fishtown had grown into a solid blue-collar neighbourhood of working-class immigrant communities. And it was here that the Sweeney family lived on East Susquehanna Avenue.

  Paul Sweeney owned a local construction company and had recently joined forces with his sixteen-year-old son who had dropped out of eleventh grade to follow his father into the family business. Jason Sweeney was an easy-going teenager who dreamed of becoming a Navy SEAL and planned to join the Navy when he turned seventeen. Sadly, Jason would never reach that age.

  The young construction worker was a popular boy, but in recent years had fallen in with the wrong crowd. His parents had become increasingly concerned about his association with an old friend. Edward Batzig had been a close companion since the fourth grade and had even accompanied the Sweeneys on holiday in Florida. But it was during this outing that Paul and Dawn noticed a change in Batzig and soon after returning home, they suggested Jason limit the time he spent in his company.

  ROMANTIC RENDEZVOUS

  In contrast to Batzig, his parents could not be happier about the development of a more recent relationship. Around the middle of May, Jason had started seeing a girl, his first by all accounts. Her name was Justina Morley, a pale yet pretty dark-haired fifteen-year-old and, although they had yet to meet the sweetheart, it was clear their son was enamoured with eighth grader.

  On Friday 30 May 2003, Jason finished work earlier than normal. It was a special day. He had a date to keep with his new girlfriend. At around four o’clock, with a cashed pay cheque in his pocket, he left Fishtown to go pick up Justina from her home on East Palmer Street. The young lovers met up then visited a corner store where Jason bought his date a soda. Next Justina suggested they take a stroll through The Trails; an isolated industrial area overgrown with weeds along the Delaware River.

  Once inside the secluded wood, the young girl made amorous advances towards her companion, insisting they had sex there and then in the bushes. She began to strip, seductively shedding her clothes. Keen to notch up an early sexual experience, the teenage boy eagerly followed suit. He hastily removed his shoes and unzipped his trousers. It was at this moment that they attacked.

  As if from nowhere, three teenagers Jason knew well burst from the brush, brandishing weapons and started to attack him. Among his assailants was Edward Batzig, the boy his parents deemed a bad influence. And as the blows rained down upon him, Jason glanced over at his date. He now realised young Justina Morley had lured him into a trap.

  THE PLOT THICKENS

  This unprovoked attack had been over a week in the making. The two boys assisting Eddie Batzig were Dominic and Nicholas Coia, aged seventeen and sixteen respectively, renowned troublemakers and junkies about town. Far from the good Catholic schoolgirl the Sweeneys believed, Justina Morley was in cahoots with all three, often having sex with the brothers in exchange for drugs.

  As chronic abusers they were keen to find new ways of paying for their next hit. The previous Sunday they had managed to persuade Jason to give them ten dollars in order to buy a bag of weed. This only served to expand their collective greed as they prepared for a bigger score.

  The initial plan was to raid the safe inside the Sweeney home. A party was planned at Jason’s house for the Thursday night where Justina would seduce her new beau and the boys would beat him up, however their victim was unable to organise the party due to work
commitments. A revised plan had to be forged and the cabal chose to lure the gullible Sweeney into ‘The Trails’ using Justina as bait.

  Finalizing their strategy that Friday afternoon at the home of eighteen-year-old Joshua Staab, the gang of four conspirators listened to The Beatles’ song Helter Skelter some forty-two times. This tune enjoyed a previous deadly connection to violence. Back in 1969, it had been the inspirational anthem of the Manson Family as the cult-created spree killers brought murder to Los Angeles. Fuelled by such notoriety, the boys donned latex gloves, grabbed their weapons and secreted themselves in the undergrowth, waiting for their prey to walk by.

  AN EVIL EMBRACE

  Lured into the trap by his complicit date, the boys quickly pounced on the poor victim. The first blow came from his erstwhile best friend, Eddie Batzig. Raising a hatchet above his head, the honour student struck downwards with all his might, striking Jason’s head. Feeling a nasty gash, the duped teen staggered away as further swings made contact. Then Dominic Coia joined in. Armed with a hammer, the eldest child lashed out, striking Jason so hard the tool lodged in his skull. Undeterred by the inexplicable violence, his younger brother stepped up and began beating him with a brick.

  As blood gushed and spattered, Justina Morley stood no more than eight feet away. Providing no help to her new boyfriend, she simply stood and watched the violence play out. Following the relentless assault, poor Jason Sweeney choked on his own blood. Once his killers knew he was dead, they rifled through his pockets and found the $500 in cash. Then the partners in crime came together in a group hug, celebrating their evil, savouring the rush.

  Leaving Jason dead in the weeds, Justina and the three boys returned to Joshua Staab’s place. Their host ran their bloodstained clothes through the washing machine, while the four divided up their ill-gotten gains. Now each accomplice had $125 and, with no remorse nor fear of the consequences, they partied hard, spending the money on marijuana, heroin and cocaine.