by Ann Rule
They found men’s clothes hanging in closets around the apartment.
Fonis asked the manager if Sue Ann Baker lived with someone, but the woman shook her head.
“She lived alone. She was separated from her husband.”
“What’s his name?”
“I believe it’s Ron—Ron Baker.”
There was no sign of any luggage in the place to indicate a visitor.
Craig VandePutte called Lieutenant Ernie Bisset and the King County chief medical examiner, Dr. Donald Reay, at 10:45 P.M., and they responded to the scene. Reay checked the body and confirmed that Sue Ann Baker had been dead for some time. The nether side of her body was striated with the pinkish purple marks of livor mortis, which indicated that she had lain in the bed in the same position for many hours.
Moreover, the room temperature was 65 degrees, and the victim’s body temperature was 65, too.
“I’d say she’s been dead for about twenty-four hours,” ‘Doc’ Reay said. “This, which seems to be the only wound, was caused by a single-edged knife.”
Sue Ann Baker’s fingernails were long and unbroken, perfectly manicured with silver polish. She still wore an expensive watch and rings. The investigators weren’t thinking that robbery had been the motive for her death, and this tended to confirm their first impressions.
They encased her hands in bags in the unlikely event that she had attempted to scratch her killer. Some of his—or her—skin might be found under her nails.
Fowler, Fonis, and VandePutte retraced the path they had made, entering the living room again. Lieutenant Bisset and Dr. Reay and were scrutinizing the large gold couch carefully. The top blanket appeared to have bloodstains. When both blankets were removed, a large bloodstain came into view; it had soaked deep into the couch.
“It looks like she was killed here—or at least stabbed here,” Reay commented.
“That fits with the blood that was wiped off the coffee table,” Fowler agreed.
Sue Ann’s body was removed to await autopsy, but the detectives’ night on the job was far from over. They gathered, labeled, and sealed fifty-one pieces of evidence: bloodstained clothing, bedding, the cassette that had played over and over again on the stereo, the knives, and, strangely, a pair of scissors found in a drawer, and which also appeared to bear bloodstains.
Criminalist Tim Taylor arrived from the Western Washington State Crime Lab to process various areas of the crime scene. He used swabs moistened with distilled water to lift samples of blood. It was essential to determine if they were all the victim’s blood, or if someone else had bled here.
The most important piece of physical evidence would be a killer’s fingerprints in blood or even on the cassette, showing that he or she had been in the apartment at the time Sue Ann was stabbed. It didn’t happen often and the homicide detectives would be very lucky if any of these kinds of prints were not Sue Ann’s.
* * *
At 4 A.M., Sergeant VandePutte’s crew was finally back in the Homicide Unit’s office, and talking further with Officer Dillon.
Dillon had taken in-depth statements from the couple who managed the apartments.
“The manager and her husband told me that they heard ‘normal’ activity in the Baker apartment all day long on Sunday—October 30—but nothing on the thirty-first,” Dillon said.
Dillon taped their recall of the weekend, and on Halloween.
“I saw Ron’s car—that’s her husband—parked up by the Tie-Up Tavern this morning about nine thirty,” the manager’s husband’s voice said.
“It’s a dark green Buick Electra. The tavern’s just down the street from us.”
“So evidently Sue Ann’s husband—this Ron guy—was around and with her at least part of the last couple of days,” Dillon said.
The tape played on. “I think they were together yesterday,” the female half of the management team added. “I saw Sue go out to the car yesterday morning—Sunday—and then go back into her apartment.”
Dillon said that his information indicated that Sue Ann Baker had worked as a bartender at the Rendezvous Restaurant on Second Avenue West, a popular neighborhood spot.
“I guess she was supposed to be at work today,” the woman continued. “And her husband called in this morning and told them she was ill. He said she would call in later in the day—but she never did. They got concerned at the bar when her phone was busy for hours.”
Detectives dumped the contents of Sue Ann’s purse on a sheet of white paper, noting what was inside. Few men know exactly what the women in their lives carry in their handbags, but nothing seemed to be missing. There was the usual jumble of cosmetics, a learner’s permit from the Department of Motor Vehicles that said she could drive but only with a licensed companion on board, a bottle of tranquilizers prescribed for Sue Ann on October 4, a Canadian citizen’s registration card, and a card indicating a doctor’s appointment on November 4.
There were pictures, too. Some of Sue Ann, and others of her and a man who was, presumably her husband. There were four letters whose envelopes bore the return address of Keith William “Ron” Baker, all postmarked Dutch Harbor, Alaska.
Ron had mailed the letters in early October. They must have meant something to the dead woman because she had kept them in her purse for almost four weeks.
In his letters, Ron Baker wrote about his “change of attitude” since he’d arrived in Alaska. He spoke of looking forward with happy expectation to the time he would return to Seattle in the first week of December. He cautioned Sue Ann about drinking too much.
If they were as estranged as the detectives had heard, their relationship was clearly still close. At least it was in Ron Baker’s mind. He’d written about looking forward to their wonderful physical relationship.
The rest of the letters detailed his days as a cook on a crab boat owned by the New England Fish Company. Any job on a crab boat in the far north in midwinter is dangerous. Storms at sea are not uncommon, and many fishermen and crew fear being tossed into the frigid sea, where they could quickly perish of hypothermia or drowning.
But the pay was good. It sounded as though Ron Baker was determined to save his marriage to Sue Ann.
And then, for some reason, Ron didn’t last out the season on the crab boat. He had evidently returned to Seattle a lot sooner than either Sue Ann or he had expected. The management couple had seen his green Buick parked near the apartment and they had seen him, too.
But had they really? Was it possible that Ron Baker was still in Alaska, and the man they saw was someone else who resembled him? The homicide detectives felt they needed corroboration one way or the other on that from other sources.
If Baker had been home, he was missing now. He was certainly the main “person of interest” that they wanted to talk to. A man saying he was Sue Ann’s husband had called the Rendezvous on the morning of the thirty-first saying that she was ill.
Yet Dr. Reay’s determination of time of death indicated that she had likely been dead for hours then.
The investigation was less than a day old when Gary Fowler, Ted Fonis, and Craig VandePutte left the homicide office. A new day was dawning and they had had no sleep, but they would catch a few hours’ nap and then return to work on the case.
On November 1, Gary Fowler sent out a teletype at 8:45 A.M. requesting that law enforcement departments in the seven western states and Alaska pick up Ron Baker for questioning if he was spotted. His photographs and neighbors’ descriptions indicated that he was a big man, six feet two, and well over two hundred pounds. He had light blue eyes and brown hair. The information on the dark green Buick Electra was included.
The autumn wind blew orange and black remnants of Halloween crepe paper decorations along Seattle streets, and exhausted youngsters who had gone to bed with makeup on their faces woke up to paw through what was left of their treats from the night before.
Finding witnesses during the daytime was usually easier than in the middle of the night. Now Gary
Fowler talked to the young woman who occupied the apartment directly next to Sue Ann Baker’s—Gemma Lytle.* Gemma worked as a human resources coordinator in an investment firm.
Shocked that such violence had happened so close to her, Gemma said, “Our two apartments share a common wall and I can’t help but overhear sounds, and sometimes even conversations coming from next door.”
Because they usually worked different hours, Gemma Lytle said that she didn’t know Sue Ann Baker very well. “But we recognized each other and said ‘Hi’ when we passed going to our apartments.”
Because of the flimsy wall between their apartments, Gemma knew more about what happened there than she wanted to.
“I moved in around the first of June and I hadn’t seen Mrs. Baker for three weeks then,” she told Fowler. “I knew she was married, but I haven’t seen him for a month. He’s a big, muscular man in his thirties.”
“Did you ever hear any sounds coming from their apartment that would indicate the state of their family life?” Fowler asked.
“I couldn’t help but overhear their arguments. And there were a lot of arguments, bickering, you know. But there was never any violence, at least not until recently. A couple of weeks ago, I heard arguing and crying and screaming. It sounded like they were tossing each other against the wall.”
“Could you hear what she said?”
“Yes. She kept yelling that she didn’t know why she’d put up with him all these years. She said he was worthless. I didn’t know what to do, you know—so I didn’t say anything to anyone.”
“When was the last time you heard conversation in their apartment?”
“It was Friday. That was October twenty-eighth. I couldn’t really hear him because it wasn’t loud—so I don’t know if he was there. But I could hear her crying. It was kind of sad, and I wished I didn’t have to listen to it.”
“When was the last time you saw Ron Baker’s car? Would you recognize his car?”
“Yes—it’s a green Buick. Yesterday—Halloween day—it was about seven thirty in the morning. I was surprised it was there because, when he’s home, he normally drove her to work before that.”
“Okay, what about the sounds coming from next door? When did you hear anyone alive there?”
“Early yesterday morning—about one thirty or two A.M., I heard footsteps coming down the walkway—I recognized his steps because I’ve heard them so many times, and he’s a large man who walks heavy. This time, I could hear his voice—but not hers.”
Gemma Lytle was a helpful witness, but she had not actually seen Ron Baker over the past few days. She’d heard a man’s voice, and a man’s heavy footfall.
Was it Ron—or had it been some other man in Sue Ann’s life?
The apartment manager thought he’d seen Ron Baker’s car outside the Tie-Up Tavern, and said it was one of his regular hangouts when he was in town. That seemed as good a place as any to find witnesses who might confirm that Baker really was in Seattle on Halloween. Fonis and Fowler headed there.
Business in a tavern on a weekday morning was desultory at best. A few serious beer drinkers sat at the bar, and a skeleton staff was setting up for the lunch crowd when the two detectives walked in.
The news of Sue Ann Baker’s murder had already reached the rumor mill at the Tie-Up, and the two detectives were directed to a barmaid who knew Ron.
“She works here part-time,” the bartender said. “I’ve seen her talking to Ron.”
Toni Giametti* acknowledged readily that she knew Ron Baker.
“How well do you know him?” Ted Fonis asked.
“Pretty well, I guess,” she said, looking down.
“Do you know if he was in town this last week—and on Halloween?”
“He was here. A long time ago, we hooked up. I kind of have a warm spot in my heart for him,” she said. “Ron stayed two nights with me last week. He told me that he and Susie had broken up for good. After two nights, he moved in with a friend of his.”
“When did you see Ron last?” Gary Fowler asked.
“Yesterday morning,” Toni said, surprising the investigators. “About nine thirty on Halloween day. He was in the Tie-Up. I said something to him about hearing he and Sue were back together and he said that wasn’t true. He told me he was leaving in three days on a Foss [Maritime Company] tug that was heading out to sea for several weeks, going to Hawaii.”
Their conversation with Toni Giametti convinced the two detectives that Ron Baker had come back to Seattle almost two months early.
“I guess he and Susie made up,” Toni said. “I saw him and her in his car on Saturday, and I figured they were back together because they were sitting real close to each other.”
The man that Toni described didn’t sound at all like a knife-wielding killer, but Fonis and Fowler knew well that violence and rage can be bottled up, and hidden behind a benign façade.
“Ron’s a very easygoing person,” Toni said. “I’ve never seen him angry. He usually drank only Cokes or coffee when he came in here.”
“Ever see him drunk?” Fowler asked.
“No—never.”
“You don’t know of any time he attacked his wife then?” Fowler pressed. “Any time he’d been violent with her?”
“I hate to say this. I really do—because I can’t imagine that it could be Ron who did that to her. But the night before he came to stay with me, he told me that both of them had gotten drunk and that he grabbed Sue around her neck. He said he just didn’t know why he’d grabbed Sue around the neck, whether it was because he was drunk or what was going on in his head. That’s when he decided he had to move out.”
Perhaps it hadn’t been Ron Baker who’d killed his wife. Robbery detective Bud Lee had talked with a man who called headquarters the evening of the thirty-first to inquire if anyone had reported that Sue Ann was hurt. This would have been well before her body was found. The man insisted that he was concerned about her because she hadn’t shown up for the Halloween party at the Rendezvous. He had seen her the day before and she’d been fine.
The informant said he had only a platonic interest in the tall brunette and didn’t even know her address. He just thought it was strange that she hadn’t come to work. The male caller’s whereabouts on October 31 were checked and he was cleared.
Detective Dick Sanford contacted the owner of the Rendezvous to see if Sue Ann Baker’s personal problems had been common knowledge.
“Sue Ann talked to us some about Ron. She was trying to break off with him,” Sue Ann’s boss said. “And she came to work about two weeks ago with big bruises on her neck. They looked like fingerprints.
“Sue Ann was frightened; she’d thought Ron was going to kill her. I know it happened, because Ron himself came in and admitted it to me. He said, ‘I just about killed my wife.’ I already knew about it, and I said, ‘I know Ron.’ ”
Baker had asked the Rendezvous owner to talk to him and they had discussed the marital problems for a while. Ron had promised he wouldn’t come around Sue Ann anymore.
“I told him that was what Sue Ann wanted, and he said he guessed that was the way it had to be . . . and he left alone.”
“When was the last time you saw Sue Ann?” Sanford asked.
“Friday—the twenty-eighth. She worked from eight to five. Ron had been in the day before and thanked me for talking to him and he told me he was determined not to bother Sue Ann anymore.”
The manager said that Ron had called in Monday, the thirty-first, to say that Sue Ann had “female problems” and couldn’t come to work.
“I just couldn’t understand why she wouldn’t at least call to discuss the party she planned for Halloween night, and then the phone was off the hook, so I called the police to check on her.”
Sue Ann was described as “the best” as far as employees went; she drew customers with her ready smile and was very dependable. Apparently she felt compelled to work because her husband had a very spotty work record and seldom held a job fo
r long, even though he was accomplished as a cook. He didn’t have any trouble getting jobs, but he quit with a regularity that upset his wife. She’d had hopes that the job in Alaska as a cook on the crab boat would turn out to be more permanent, and she was disappointed when Ron quit after a few weeks and came home.
A friend of Sue’s called the homicide office and came in to talk to detectives. She said she’d been out of town until Friday, and had occasion to call Sue and ask about chances for a job at the Rendezvous. She’d learned that the Bakers were separated, and Sue had seemed very glad to have her old friend to talk to.
Ron Baker was described as a “very deep thinker,” concerned with “mind development,” but also as a man who hadn’t been able to hold down a job. “He was just totally dependent on Sue—emotionally as well as financially.”
Sanford contacted the bartender at the Tie-Up Tavern and the woman told him that she had last seen Sue Ann and Ron on Sunday night, October 30, when Sue Ann bowled in her league game. She had seen Ron Baker in the tavern on Monday between 10:30 A.M. and 1 P.M. and he had seemed preoccupied and hadn’t said much.
Other members of the bowling team were contacted by detectives. They had seen Ron and Sue Ann together on Sunday about 10 P.M. Sue Ann had mentioned to one member of the team that she was afraid to go home with Ron.
“Then Ron asked us if we wanted to have a drink with them after, but we had to get home because of the babysitter. I never saw them after that.” The man did say that he thought Sue Ann had filed for divorce and gave the name of her attorney.
Many people had seen Sue Ann alive—but frightened—at 10 P.M. on the night of October 30. After that, only Ron alone had appeared at their usual haunts.
Detective Sanford talked to a friend of Baker’s who said that Ron had come into the Tie-Up at 11:30 on Sunday night. The two men had shot pool together until sometime after 1 A.M. He hadn’t sensed Ron was particularly upset, and thought he’d been his normal self.
But Ron Baker’s “normal self” had vacillated a great deal in the month preceding his wife’s murder. The friend said that Ron was sometimes mellow and resigned to the fact that she was leaving him. And sometimes desperately jealous. Baker had reason to be. Cal Samuelson,* who was instrumental in getting him the Alaska job, had bragged to the witness that he and Sue Ann had “a thing going,” and that he was going to try to arrange to have Ron sent to Alaska a week ahead of him. That way he could be alone with Sue Ann. Baker had evidently not been aware of his benefactor’s hidden reason for getting him a job so far away. But he had found out after he’d been up on the crab boat, and come home.