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Welcome to the Serial Killer Podcast. The podcast dedicated to serial killers. Who they were, what they did, and how. I am your Norwegian host, Thomas Weyborg Thun. And tonight, dear listener, we continue our stay in the United States of America.
But we turn our gaze to the Northeast and to the brilliant lights and dark alleys of New York and the suburban bliss and industrial wastelands of New Jersey. In the golden age of serial murder in the 1970s, one killer roamed there and made the night filled with living nightmares.
His name is Richard Francis Cottingham, and he raped, tortured, and murdered at least six women, and is suspected of many more. This time, dear listener, I have a small treat for you. I will be doing an Ask Me Anything session on the 21st of March. So...
Visit my website at theserialkillerpodcast.com slash AMA to submit your question. All questions will be answered and published from 4 p.m. Eastern Time. As an added bonus, the lovely introduction music you just listened to will be available as a ringtone in the next few weeks, both to Android and iPhone.
Do not miss out on exciting news, such as the Kickstarter project. We got going with a premium mug that changes color as it heats up. So, sign up at theserialkillerpodcast.com slash tellme. As always, you can personally contribute to the podcast directly via Patreon at theserialkillerpodcast.com slash donate.
Any donation, no matter how small, is greatly appreciated. Richard Cottingham was born on the 25th of November, 1946, in the Bronx, New York City. World War II had ended a year before, and Harry S. Truman was the President of the United States of America.
The Vincente Minelli movie, Undercurrent, starring Katherine Hepburn, Robert Taylor and Robert Mitchum, was playing the theaters, and the songs listeners heard most on the radio were the two tunes topping the charts, Hoagy Carmichael's Huggin' and Chalkin' and It's All Over Now by Peggy Lee. Richard's childhood was a typical New York one.
He was lonely when he was away from home, as he was somewhat of a loner growing up, being considered the odd boy out. As you may know, dear listener, a typical trait with psychopaths is their inability to form lasting, genuine friendships with other people.
When they do, their relationship is typically short and defined by the psychopath feeling utterly superior to his friends, along with constant lying and manipulation. When Richard was twelve years old, he was on the cusp of entering puberty and attended the seventh grade. His family had just moved to the township of Rivervale in the state of New Jersey.
It's a small township in Bergen County. It was an idyllic location to grow up in 1958. It was the hate of the quintessential post-war, American middle class, suburban life, and actually continues to be a pleasant place to live to this day. Richard's father was a white-collar worker in the insurance industry.
and his mother, the typical all-American housewife, who doted on her favorite son and his two younger siblings. Back in 1958, America's middle class would typically afford large houses, and Richard's family was no different. Their house was on Cleveland Avenue in Rivervale, and was similar to most of the other houses on the street.
Not too far away from where he lived, Richard attended the Catholic co-ed parochial school of St. Andrews. As previously stated, Richard had trouble making friends, and spent most of his time at home attending to his favorite hobby, raising homing pigeons. The solitary life suited him, and it wasn't until he enrolled at the Pascag Valley High School that he finally made a few friends.
One of them, called Neumann, was numb with horror upon learning of Cottingham's crimes as an adult. As is typical of serial killers, his peers back then had no idea what horrors churned inside the mind of young Richard. At school, Richard did not have a nickname.
He did not really like his teachers or authority much, and he didn't join any sports teams. He did have three friends in high school, and Richard saw himself as the little group's absolute leader. Another classmate of Cottingham's said, and I quote, "...there was really nothing extraordinary about him, except that he was kind of removed from the mainstream." End quote.
When it came to girls, Neumann recalls Richard being attracted to them, but he never managed to get a girlfriend while in high school. After gym class in the boys' locker room, Richard would regularly talk derogatorily about girls in general, but would also explain what sort of girls he found attractive. Typically, Richard said that he preferred girls with big breasts.
While enjoying women with large breasts isn't exactly uncommon among men, Richard took this attraction to unhealthy levels, developing a kind of fetish about it, something that would later be materialized in the way that he murdered his victims.
Psychologists describe paraphilia as an abnormal sexual desire that may include extreme or dangerous activities. As a side note, I can mention that we here in Scandinavia currently have a criminal case being played out in court that concerns a very typical case of paraphilia.
Peter Madsen is suspected of killing a young female journalist called Wall by tying her up in his self-made U-boat, raping her, torturing her by stabbing her repeatedly, often in the vagina, and then cutting her up in several pieces before tossing her corpse overboard into the frigid sea.
Madsen's crime is very much similar to what Richard Cottingham did all those years ago. So, it's a typical example of how paraphilia can be expressed. Other symptoms can include cross-dressing, voyeurism, pedophilia, and other fetishes such as Cottingham's penchant for very large breasts.
According to medical experts online, individuals with paraphilia will sometimes have a hard time developing lasting loving relationships with others. Men are 20 times more likely to develop paraphilia and it is as such quite uncommon among women. Although not unheard of, in most cases of paraphilia,
People live normal, healthy lives, expressing their deviant sexual desires through masturbation or with a participating partner. Typical examples of the latter can be couples practicing sadomasochism, cross-dressing, or other unusual legal and consensual sexual acts. However, those with more extreme paraphilic traits
With dark, deviant, and dangerous fantasies, they often rarely find satisfying outlets for their desires, and as such they bubble to the surface, erupting in blood-soaked bursts of violence. Cottingham had two forms of paraphilia. His fetish for very large breasts,
and his desire for sadistic sex that continued to escalate. In later life interviews, Cottingham blames his deviant desires on pornography. He told how it began with a Playboy magazine hidden under a bed, but progressed until he masturbated to hardcore, often illegal, violent porn.
he did not tell anyone about his secret desires and when his needs superseded his masturbatory fantasies they resulted in murder again and again and again
According to the FBI's Behavioral Science Unit, many sexual serial killers obsess over their fantasies, and many serial killers have confessed to being preoccupied by deviant fantasies during childhood. They spend more and more time preoccupied with the fantasy, which becomes more detailed with passing time.
Just as important as the compulsion to bring his emergent sexual fantasies to life is a serial killer's calling card or signature. These are the elements that are common to their various crime scenes. According to Robert Keppel, in his book Signature Killers, Sexual Murderers develop personalized elements that are present at every crime scene.
as important as a signature on a piece of art. For Cottingham, the most common signature was savage bite marks on the breasts of his victims. And these bites became more horrific with each kill. Now, dear listener, it's important to remember that not all serial killers are sexual sadistic serial killers.
But among those that are, they tend to become very extreme with what they do to their victims, and Cottingham was no exception. In Richard's senior high school pictures, he wore slicked back hair and a nice suit. There was no smile on his face or in his eyes.
But to those around him, he didn't seem unlike any of the other guys graduating as the member of the class of 1964. The Beatles were topping the music charts, and the Vietnam War and the civil rights movement were both increasing in intensity around him. After graduating high school, Richard joined his father in his insurance company called Metropolitan Life.
He worked as a computer operator, which back then was very different than today. Computers in the 1960s usually filled an entire room and resembled very little today's computers that come in all shapes and sizes. It was, however, a technically challenging job and proved that Richard was an intelligent young man.
While working at MetLife, Richard took as many computer classes as he could on his free time, and as such, developed an impressive resume. After two years, he quit his working in the same company as his father and moved on to another insurance company called Blue Cross Blue Shield of Greater New York. The company was located downtown New York in the business district of
and he shared the workstation with a man named Dominic Volpe. The two of them worked the 3 to 11 p.m. shift, which left Richard both mornings and nights free. Free to feed his fantasies by hanging out at S&M clubs, learning the fine art of domination. Mr. Volpe has said in interviews that Richard and him chatted a lot,
and his impression of Richard was as a pretty smart man, who was well-read and up-to-date on computer technology. Cottingham developed his narcissistic tendencies into adulthood. He felt he was above the rest of humanity, and his needs trumped those of others. Cottingham, to an extreme degree, objectified women.
he viewed them more as toys to be used and abused rather than fellow human beings with feelings and emotions of their own this came to an absolute fruition when on friday the twenty seventh of october nineteen sixty seven nancy skiava vogel told her husband of nine years henry
that she was going out to play bingo at St. Margaret Roman Catholic Church in Little Ferry, New Jersey. Henry wasn't worried because bingo was a regular tradition in the predominantly Italian Catholic neighborhood. But when the late night news was over, and Nancy still hadn't come home, he started to worry.
and the mother of two still hadn't returned home by the next day, which was totally out of character for the loving mother and wife, a frantic Henry reported her missing. Police launched a search, but turned up nothing. In or around the neighborhood, that would suggest anything had happened. On Monday, two twelve-year-old girls,
had just gotten home from school at st francis parochial and were in the upstairs bedroom of one of the girls when they noticed what looked like a waxy mannequin in a car on the street below they went to investigate and after looking inside the vehicle and seeing that it wasn't a mannequin at all ran to the house of a neighbor who then summoned the police
The 1964-door Rambler Nancy had been driving was parked on Homestead Place near a neighborhood park. Inside the car, police found the missing housewife. She was beaten and strangled. She was naked, and her hands were tied in front of her, bound with a thin nylon cord. Her clothes were folded neatly and placed beneath her body.
Apparently, Nancy had never made it to the bingo game. Packages from the Valley Fair Mall in the trunk of the car, containing two pairs of shoes and a blouse, suggested that someone she met at the mall likely had something to do with her murder. They began to seek out witnesses. At the crime scene, evidence showed that Nancy had fought hard for her life. Her face was bruised,
and there were signs of a serious struggle. Still, according to the coroner's report, a robe or tie around her neck had led to her death from asphyxiation, a very slow and extremely painful way to die. Police centered their investigation upon those who knew Nancy, including the friend she had planned to meet at the bingo.
That friend confirmed that Nancy had never turned up at the church. Other leads, among them a man's recollection that she had been talking to a hippie, never panned out. And so, a week after her battered body was found slumped over in her car, Nancy's case went cold, and her family was left with questions they feared would never be answered.
Cottingham hadn't yet turned twenty-one years old the year that he murdered Nancy Vogel. He, too, lived in Little Ferry, New Jersey, and Nancy likely thought little of it when Cottingham approached her car, running into her at a mall. It might have been easy to talk her into driving somewhere other than the bingo, given his silver-tongued approach to attracting his victims.
Cottingham has in later interviews not given much detail about what transpired on the occasion of his first kill, but it is clear that Nancy was killed in her car. Cottingham then drove the car to a different location in order to prevent her from being found for a while. At the time, there was nothing about him that would make him appear to be a suspect, unless the police were listening in on his conversations at work.
At the console he was sharing with Volpe, Cottingham did not censor himself when chatting to his co-worker. Volpe says Cottingham bragged about prostitutes, gambling, and S&M, such as his enjoyment of using whips, ball gags, handcuffs, and slave master role-playing games.
As with another serial killer not very much younger than Cottingham, Ted Bundy, he took extreme pleasure in having control over others, in total domination. And combined with his desire to live a life on the edge of the law, this made Cottingham the perfect candidate for a killer. At work, his nightly escapades bled into the day.
According to Folke, he would not be able to sit still during their shift together. His legs would shake, and he had jitters all over his body. Even though Cottingham was a calculating killer, his increasingly extreme sexual fantasies and extreme lifestyle made him drink to quiet his inner demons. And so...
Only a year after his murder of Nancy Vogel, Cottingham was arrested for driving under the influence. He was so drunk that he wouldn't get off with a fine, as was mostly usual in such cases back then, but he had to spend ten days in jail in addition to his $50 fine.
Not everything was sex, vice and murder with Cottingham, though. And on the third day of May, 1970, he married Janet. She was a very attractive woman, with long, thick, dark hair, and the large breasts Cottingham so desired. Their wedding took place at Our Lady of Lourdes Church in Queens Village, New York City.
He was only 23 years old when he married, and in newlyweds moved into a cute little apartment at Ledgewood Terrace in Little Ferry. The move allowed the couple to live a safe suburban lifestyle, while he commuted to work in New York City via one of the New Jersey public transport buses with lines that provided transportation to midtown Manhattan.
their marriage was not without trouble on the twenty first of august nineteen seventy two cottingham was arrested and convicted of shoplifting at stearns department store in nearby paramus new jersey this time he got off with a fine of fifty dollars and did not have to spend time in jail
In addition to being arrested, Cottingham was a notorious cheater who had affairs with several other women, many of whom he paid to have sex with. He managed to keep his infidelity a secret from his wife until the 4th of September 1973, when he was arrested on robbery, assault and sodomy charges. Back in 1973, anal sex was still illegal,
But the charges were ultimately dropped, probably due to lack of resources at the prosecutor's office. For many women, a husband who cheats and visits prostitutes is a husband they divorce. But Janice toughed it out, perhaps out of concern for their firstborn child, Brian, who was born only a month after Cottingham's arrest in 1973. For a normal couple,
this should have been a time of familial bliss but for the sexual psychopath cottingham it was far from it a few months after his son's birth cottingham was again charged with robbery but again the charges were dropped sensing that his wife was on the verge of leaving him
Cottingham upped his game a little and moved his family into a nicer accommodation, a three-bedroom rental home at 29 Vreeland Street in Lodi, New Jersey, a place that today carries a monthly rent of at least $2,500. The same year as the move, Janet gave birth to their second son, Scott, on the 28th of March.
The couple's only daughter, Jenny, soon followed on the 13th of October in 1976. Between the births of his two youngest children, Cottingham lay low, but his desires did not dissipate, and soon they would bring forth in him a murderous need he could not, and would not, stop.
It was just a few weeks before Christmas of 1977, smack in the middle of what I, dear listener, like to call the golden age of serial killers, and Marianne Carr went missing from the Ledgeview Terrace apartments in Little Ferry, where she lived with her husband. The twenty-six-year-old technician had been planning to meet with her mother-in-law while her husband was away from home on business, but she never showed up.
By the time her husband returned home, family members were frantic with concern about Mary Ann and immediately called the police. When the police arrived at the apartment, there were no clues as to what might have happened to the pretty x-ray technician. There was nothing broken or stolen in the apartment, but there was a witness. While driving away from home, a neighbor had seen someone at the apartment he thought was Mary Ann's husband.
and for a time he thus became the police's main suspect. But since he had a bulletproof alibi, the lead would soon go cold, and it would be years before the police figured out that Marianne's husband and Richard Cottingham looked very much alike.
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After 30 gigabytes, customers may experience slower speeds. Customers will pay $25 a month as long as they remain active on the Boost Unlimited plan. Hey, I'm Ryan Reynolds. At Mint Mobile, we like to do the opposite of what big wireless does. They charge you a lot, we charge you a little. So naturally, when they announced they'd be raising their prices due to inflation, we decided to deflate our prices due to not hating you.
That's right. We're cutting the price of Mint Unlimited from $30 a month to just $15 a month. Give it a try at mintmobile.com slash switch. $45 upfront payment equivalent to $15 per month. New customers on first three-month plan only. Taxes and fees extra. Speeds lower above 40 gigabytes. See details. This episode is sponsored by BetterHelp. As a family man with three kids, I know firsthand how extremely difficult it is to make time for self-care.
But it's good to have some things that are non-negotiable. For some, that could be a night out with the boys, chugging beers and having a laugh. For others, it might be an eating night. For me, one non-negotiable activity is researching psychopathic serial killers and making this podcast. Even when we know what makes us happy, it's often near impossible to make time for it.
But when you feel like you have no time for yourself, non-negotiables like therapy are more important than ever. If you're thinking of starting therapy, give BetterHelp a try. It's entirely online, designed to be convenient, flexible, and suited to your schedule. Everyone needs someone to talk to, even psychopaths, even your humble host.
Never skip therapy day with BetterHelp. Visit betterhelp.com slash serialkiller today to get 10% off your first month. That's BetterHelp, H-E-L-P dot com slash serialkiller. No one knows how Cottingham managed to entice Marianne into his vehicle from the apartment parking lot. What is known is that he abducted her.
Then he took her to a hotel where he raped, tortured and murdered her before tossing her corpse away like it was trash. Her remains were found on the 16th of December 1977 in the parking lot of the Quality Inn Motel. Her body jumped between the curb and the chain-link fence surrounding the motel parking lot.
Her body had ligature marks on the wrists and ankles from handcuffs, and she had a ligature mark along her neck. The body was covered in bruises. On her arms, her shoulders, her breasts, her thighs. Her right cheek had hemorrhaged, as though she'd been struck in the face with a blunt object. The left leg of her crisp white pants had been cut open.
and a bunch of her hair, also cut, had fallen onto her right thigh, stark against her light-colored uniform. According to reports, her shoes, her coat and her purse were all missing, and residue from tape was found around her mouth. However, the most telling evidence was a severe bite mark on her breast, and this would come back to bite Cottingham in the rear many years later.
Even though Mary Ann's body was covered in clues, it was simply no hard evidence at a crime scene that could lead police on a track to find the killer. After Mary Ann's gruesome murder, police were finding multiple victims of sexual assault and murder near the airport, either along the side of the road or in motel rooms.
Some, but not all, of the victims were prostitutes. All of them had been tortured in a similar way. On the 28th of September 1978, Cottingham again felt a need to satisfy his urges, and barmaid Karen Schilt was his unlucky victim. She was visibly pregnant, and had spent a day working at a bar and grill on 3rd Avenue called Tuesdays.
At about 6 p.m., she left work to visit her boyfriend before returning to work until 8 p.m. Karen had a few drinks before leaving for another bar on 3rd Avenue, arriving there at about 8.30 p.m. Now, dear listener, before you judge this young woman too harshly,
It was not common knowledge in the 1970s that drinking alcohol was extremely dangerous to an unborn fetus, and as such this was quite common among pregnant women at the time. At the new bar, Karen struck up conversations with a guy calling himself John Schaefer, who asked her if she was a working girl at some point in their conversation.
She said she wasn't, but Schaefer, which was Cottingham's chosen pseudonym for the night, was smitten by the young lady's looks and did not deviate from his plan of action. He wore a shaggy wig that night, and Karen soon began to feel as if she was drugged. She felt woozy, weak. Her stomach was upset, and the room had begun to spin.
She put down her drink and left the bar, planning on heading home to her apartment. Schaefer had hoped for this very result, and soon followed behind her down the darkly lit street of Third Avenue in his car. Karen was by now stumbling, and he rolled down his window, asking her in a concerned voice if she needed a lift home.
She was by now too disoriented to make her way home, and said yes before getting into Cottingham's car, where she immediately passed out. She briefly woke up, only to see Cottingham shoving three blue and red capsules called tuinol, his date-rape drug of choice, down her throat. She felt a burning pain in her chest before passing out yet again.
She was still unconscious at 9 a.m. the next morning when Little Ferry Police Department patrolman Raymond Auger found Karen's near-lifeless body stuffed in a drainage ditch behind a car at the Ledgeview Terrace apartment building, the same one where Cottingham had once lived. Her shirt was pulled up, exposing her large breasts.
one of which had been burned by a cigarette and brutally bitten. Her pants were undone and pulled down around her ankles. She was missing her coat, scarf and purse, and police would later find out a prized ring was also gone. Upon discovery, the police immediately began CPR, bringing her back from the brink of death. Due to the drugs Cottingham had fed her,
She could barely remember anything what had transpired the night before. The 5'5" tall woman was only 22 years old, and her life would never be the same. The police were left with very few clues, since Karen could only give a very vague description of the man who had tortured and raped her. And so her case, along with many others,
would soon grow. On the 10th of October, 1978, Susan Geiger gave Richard Cottingham her phone number. He had offered her $200, but she had been fully booked, so she had given him her digits, so they could meet the next day. Which they did. At midnight in front of the Alpine Motel, Susan met Cottingham.
They headed over to the Irish pub Flanagan's on First Street, not far from the Greensboro Bridge. Once they got settled, Cottingham told Susan his name was Jim, and then offered the truth he was married with three kids and lived in New Jersey. He also showed her a big wad of dollars he said came from a recent gambling win. When she went to the restroom, he ordered a screwdriver drink.
thinking those drinks would mask the taste of the drugs he dropped into hers when susan came back and drank her screwdriver drink everything immediately became hazy she remembered riding in a dirty green thunderbird she remembered waking up in a hotel room
The man she knew as Jim was sexually assaulting her, and she recalled being whipped severely with a piece of green garden hose. She eventually woke up the afternoon of the 12th of October on the floor of room 28 of the Airport Motel in Hackensack, New Jersey. She was bleeding from her vagina, her anus, her breasts, her face, and her mouth.
Her earrings had been ripped from her ears, and they were also bleeding. Her purse was missing. Susan called the police and stepped out into the sunshine to wait for them to rescue her. When Captain John Agar of the South Hackensack Police Department pulled up, he saw a young woman with her clothing torn to shreds, her lips swollen and bloodied from being savagely beaten.
her thoughts incoherent and rambling from having been drugged. In the motel room, CSI personnel found towels stained with semen, which they quickly sent off to the crime lab. Since this was a time before today's sophisticated DNA testing methods, the towels only revealed a single clue. Their suspect was a man with type O blood. At Hackensack Hospital, Susan, who was also pregnant,
was linked to Karen because her breasts too had been savagely bitten, in addition to her bruises all over her body that most probably came from the green garden hose she had been whipped with. However, bite marks and typo blood does not equal a suspect, and police yet again found themselves at a dead end. In the 1970s, New York City was a hellish place.
Crime was rampant, poverty was on the rise, and violent crime such as rape and murder were daily occurrence. Times Square was a very different place from today's version of sleek designer stores and tourist traps. Back in the 70s, Times Square was a seedy underworld consisting of peep show parlors, strip clubs, illegal brothels, and a lot of street-walking prostitutes.
Most of the women working Times Square were midwestern girls who still harbored hope that they could live the dream life offered by the enticing Big Apple. The starry-eyed girls stepped off the bus with supersized dreams, but usually would end up with a pimp instead of a producer. The pimps would stand around the bus stations,
luring naive and often drugged young girls into a life of selling sex. Richard Cottingham was on home turf when he frequented Times Square, and the girls were more than willing to call him master for a few hours if it meant they were off the streets. They were all completely unaware that this guy
who was slightly pudgy, had brown hair in a classic 70s style with short sideburns. He was evil incarnate. Although Richard Cottingham is indeed a sexual psychopath, he belongs to a rare subgroup among serial killers that are simply described as torture killers.
According to Robert D. Keppel and William J. Burns, in their excellent book Serial Violence, Analysis of Modus Operandi and Signature Characteristics of Killers, they describe a torture killer as a sadistic killer whose self-consuming need for sexual arousal can only be obtained through torture of their victims.
The victim's pain and terror are stimulus to the killer, driving him to greater frenzy that only serves to intensify the level of the victim's torture until the killer's lust is momentarily satisfied. Richard Cottingham's main target was prostitutes due to their willingness to be driven off to the privacy of a dingy motel room or simply the backseat of his car.
But he did target many other women as well, as long as he thought he could lure them to join him in his car or apartment. Once the woman was under Cottingham's power, his mask of civility and sympathy dropped, and a face of unimaginable anger, hate, and malice appeared in its stead.
As a true blood psychopath, he is incapable of feeling sympathy for other human beings' emotions, and no matter how much his victims tearfully begged for mercy, there was none to be had. It's important to understand that although a psychopath, such as Cottingham, is not capable of sympathy, he is very much able to understand empathy.
He knows how much pain and terror he causes, and that is the very thing that is driving his sexual thrill. This separates him from a more common sociopath, who simply does not care or understand other human beings' emotions, and acts without regard to them, no matter if the result of their actions are to the benefit or detriment of others. After his mask fell off,
Cottingham would implement what Keppel and Burns called the three Ds, dependency, dread, and degradation. First, he would make his victim utterly dependent on him to survive, usually by bondage games. Then, as a natural result of the torture he inflicted upon them, his victims would experience utter dread,
before finally he would degrade his victims in order to fulfill his often detailed and deviant fantasies. Personally, dear listener, I would like for Keppel and Burns to have added a fourth D, namely death, because in Cottingham's case it almost always was the end result after a woman had suffered his first three Ds.
In regular sexual intercourse, there can often be a small amount of pain that still results in erotic gratification for both partners. Examples are nails scratching into a lover's back, light spanking, small teasing nibbles on nipples or earlobes,
But for Cottingham, those examples instead becomes him biting a nipple so hard it tears off the victim's breast. Instead of light spanking, he used a rubber garden hose to pound his victim so hard bones would break. And instead of light scratches from a nail, he would tear his victims apart using a knife.
All of it gave him the arousal he needed to function in the concurrent rape that he always subjected his victims to. What is special about Cottingham was that murder wasn't his ultimate goal, unlike, for example, Ted Bundy, who had a need to own his victims by murdering them. The ultimate goal for Cottingham was the pain and torture he inflicted upon them,
It's because of this that a rare few of his victims actually survived, as they were still barely alive when Cottingham had finished with them and tossed them away, much the same way one would discard a bag of trash. And so ends part one of the tale of Richard Cottingham. In the next episodes covering this case...
We will delve more detail into how deep into the abyss he delved before finally being stopped.
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I have a few neat surprises for you, dear listener, that I really think you will enjoy. I have been your host, Thomas Warburg Thun. Doing this podcast is a labor of love. Also, this podcast has been able to bring serial killer stories to life thanks to you, dear listener, and especially those of you that support me via Patreon.
You can do so at theserialkillerpodcast.com slash donate. There are especially a few patrons that have stayed loyal for a long time. Maud, Wendy, Kelly, Lisbeth, Nick, Sid and Meg, Sarah, Tommy, Charlotte and Craig. Your monthly contributions really help keep this podcast thriving.
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