Toolbox Killers
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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. Tonight I present to you a somewhat longer episode to make up for the many shorter episodes lately. In it I will take you along on a road trip through hell.

At the tail end of the 1970s, two men caused so much pain and suffering that it is difficult to imagine. Therefore, I have made this episode so that you, dear listener, will understand the true horror of serial murder. You might think that the title of this episode seems familiar. The reason is that I've previously done an episode called The Toybox Killer.

However, the case of the toolbox killers is a completely different, and I would say far worse, case of serial torture, rape, and murder. This episode is brought to you by my loyal patrons. Without your support, I would not be able to provide my dear listeners with weekly episodes.

And regarding my Patreon, I do have bonus episodes and exclusive content for patrons that donate $10 or more. There is now a brand new $10 plus club exclusive there. This time, a first for this show. A TSK video review of Extremely Wicked, Shockingly Evil, and Vile. The film starring Zac Efron as Ted Bundy.

It's been out for two weeks now. So, go to theserialkillerpodcast.com forward slash donate or patreon.com forward slash theserialkillerpodcast to join the exclusive $10 plus club now. Southern California has something for everyone.

A temperate climate year-round is a boon to agriculture, industry and tourism. Mountains and deserts beckon hikers, while beaches lure surfers and sunbathers. Farms and citrus groves attract migrant workers from Mexico. American tourists head south, seeking adventure in the streets of Tijuana, Tecate and Mexicali.

The Hollywood Dream Factory devours wannabe stars. Money leaves a trail of stench on Rodeo Drive. The darker side, of course, is unmentioned in the guidebooks and brochures. As always, crime goes hand in hand with affluence. Drugs flow across the border. Prostitutes walk the streets near the studios of Disney and Universal.

Runaways sleep in culverts, alleyways, or in seedy crash pads, such as Hollywood's notorious Hotel Hell. Street gangs and dealers transform streets into shooting galleries. There are also the predators, aside from the ones in gold chains and limousines. California has an over-representative population of notorious serial killers.

The region has earned its grim reputation the hard way, producing a full 10% of the world's identified serial killers between 1950 and 2000. Predictably, the killers are now celebrities, with nicknames tailor-made for the tabloids and their inferior cousin, television.

As an avid listener to this podcast, you will probably have heard of these serial killer superstars. The Night Stalker The I-5 Killer The Skid Row Slasher The Hillside Strangler The Freeway Killer The Koreatown Slasher The Candlelight Killer The Southside Slayer The Trashbag Killer

The Sunset Slayer, The Orange Coast Killer, and of course, Zodiac. No studies have explained the disproportionate numbers of serial killers in California, but some of the answers are as obvious as a talentless Hollywood nymphette. The first is population. Hunters go where the air is game, and Southern California offers an abundance of prey.

Los Angeles' population stood at 3.6 million at the turn of the new century, with another 1.2 million in San Diego. Overall, the sprawl from Santa Barbara to the Baja border totals 20 million people. Innumerable others live off the record. Runaways, illegal immigrants.

The homeless, fugitives, and those who simply have fallen through the cracks. Among those 20 million inhabitants and others, yet unrecognized, a predator can find abundant targets of opportunity. These include hitchhikers, prostitutes, fringe dwellers, unattended children, and the forgotten elderly. Many won't be missed.

If their bodies are recovered from a shallow grave, a highway culvert, or a garbage dumpster, police will, perhaps, not spend too much resources investigating their fate. Mobility is also a key factor. California has always had a particular love affair with the automobile and the freedom it represents.

The population is large, but the density is low. A teeming highway system, for example, has made Los Angeles the global capital of bank robbery. In a predictable irony, a predator named Mac Ray Edwards helped to build the freeways. There, he slaughtered children from 1953 to 1969.

planting the children's bodies overnight in soil that he would pave with asphalt in the morning. By the time Edwards hanged himself on San Quentin's death row, the next generation killers was already cruising those freeways in style.

Their names are a nightmarish legend, and all of them either will be or have been featured on this podcast. Harvey Glattman, Thor Christensen, Kenneth Bianchi and Angelo Buono, Patrick Kearney, William Bonin and Vernon Butts, Fernando Cotta, Randy Kraft, and of course, the Manson family.

Two of the worst are all but forgotten today, except by the families of victims and some cops. These slayers never had nicknames in their day, because reporters never learned of them until they were in custody. Yet one has selected a nickname. He signs his prison fan mail, "'Cliers.'"

Lawrence Sigmund Bitteker was born in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania on the 27th of September 1940. Mr. and Mrs. George Bitteker adopted the infant, who would be known as Lawrence, shortly after he was born.

George's work in aircraft factories occasioned frequent moves for the family, from Pennsylvania to Florida, then to Ohio, and finally, California. Something of that rootless childhood stuck with Lawrence, and he dropped out of school in 1957, after several brushes with police and juvenile authorities.

Soon after dropping out of high school, Bitteker was arrested in Long Beach for auto theft, hit-and-run, and awaiting arrest. That bust earned him a trip to the California Youth Authority, where he remained until he turned 19.

Within days of his California parole, Bittiger was picked up by FBI agents in Louisiana, charged with violating the Interstate Motor Vehicle Theft Act. Convicted on that charge in August 1959, he was sentenced to serve 18 months at a federal reformatory in Oklahoma. His behavior there soon earned Bittiger a transfer to the U.S. Medical Center at Springfield, Missouri.

where doctors released him after he had served two-thirds of his sentence. Arrested next for a Los Angeles robbery in December 1960, Bitteker was convicted in May 1961, slapped with an indeterminate sentence of 1 to 15 years in state prison.

A 1961 psychiatric examination found Bitteker to be manipulative and having considerable concealed hostility. Despite superior intelligence, he was diagnosed as a quote-unquote borderline psychotic and basically paranoid. The following year, a second psychiatrist noted Bitteker's poor control of impulsive behavior.

These diagnoses notwithstanding, he was paroled in late 1963 after serving barely one-sixth of his possible maximum sentence. Freedom never seemed to agree with Larry Bittica. Two months after his conditional release, he was jailed again for parole violation and suspicion of robbery.

Another parole violation sent him back to prison in October 1964. Interviewed by a psychiatrist in 1966, Bitteker confessed that stealing made him feel important, then curiously added that his crimes occurred, and I quote, "...under circumstances that were not totally my fault." Another diagnosis of borderline psychosis was recorded.

and authorities released him yet again, only to see another parole violation in June 1967. One month later, Bittiger was tagged for theft and leaving the scene of a hit-and-run accident. Convicted on those charges, he drew another five-year sentence, but he was paroled after serving less than three years in April 1970.

Arrested for burglary and parole violation in March 1971, he was convicted on both counts that October, receiving an additional sentence of six months to 15 years. As you might imagine, if Bitteker had been convicted of just a fraction of these crimes in today's America, he would be locked away for life.

However, the California prison system at that time was in such disarray that it was hardly surprising that Bitteker was freed only three years later, in 1974. His next crime began as a simple shoplifting, shoving a steak down the front of his pants in a supermarket. But it escalated to attempted murder in the parking lot.

when Bitteker stabbed an employee who tried to stop him. Forensic psychiatrist Dr. Robert Markman examined Bitteker before trial and rejected the earlier findings of borderline psychosis. He branded Bitteker a classic sociopath, as Markman explained that term later in his memoir Alone with the Devil.

The diagnosis simply meant that Bitteker was, and I quote, "...incapable of learning to play by the rules. He would never learn by experience, and he would just keep butting his head against the barriers of acceptable behavior. In short, he was a hopeless case, beyond any known treatment or rehabilitation."

Dr. Markman also warned that Bitteker was bound to escalate his criminal behavior, moving on to more serious crimes. He was a highly dangerous man, with no internal controls over his impulses, a man who could kill without hesitation or remorse. Bitteker later reinforced this surmise, telling a cellmate that someday he planned to be, and I quote,

bigger than Manson. Prison psychiatrists concurred with Markman. A 1977 jailhouse evaluation found Bitteker more than likely to commit new crimes upon his release.

A year later, in July 1978, another psychiatrist dubbed Bitteker a sophisticated psychopath, whose prospects for successful parole were guarded at best. Again, the warnings were ignored, and Bitteker was released in November 1978, but not before he had made a special friend.

Roy Lewis Norris was born in Greeley, Colorado, on the 2nd of February 1948. Unlike Bitteker, Norris lived in his hometown until he was 17, when he dropped out of school and joined the Navy. He was stationed in San Diego, but in 1969, Norris spent four months in Vietnam. Norris never saw combat.

But he did see drugs and scores of prostitutes. Marijuana was his drug of choice, and it was widely available. Back in Southern California by November 1969, Norris attacked a female driver in downtown San Diego. He forced his way into her car and attempted to rape her. It only took three months for Norris to get arrested again,

Free on bail, pending trial for attacking the motorist, Norris knocked on another San Diego woman's door. He asked if he could use her telephone. When the woman refused, he tried to break in through a living room window, and then ran around back to the kitchen. Breaching a window there, he finally entered the house, but police arrived before he could harm his intended victim. At that point, the Navy had seen enough of Norris.

He received an administrative discharge for psychological problems after he was diagnosed as having a severe schizoid personality. Still awaiting disposition of his previous assault cases, Norris attacked a young woman in May 1970 on the campus of San Diego State College.

He tackled the student from behind, clubbed her with a stone, and then slammed her head repeatedly into a concrete sidewalk. This time, the charge was assault with a deadly weapon, and it was finally enough to take Roy Norris off the streets. He was confined to Atascadero State Hospital as a mentally disordered sex offender. He spent five years there before being released on probation.

Officially, he was described as someone who would bring no further danger to others. Norris proved the hopelessly naive prediction wrong just three months later, in Redondo Beach. As he was cruising the streets on a motorcycle, he spied a 27-year-old woman walking home from a restaurant after a quarrel with her boyfriend.

Norris stopped to offer her a ride, which she declined. Undeterred by the rejection, Norris leaped off his bike and attacked the woman, strangling her into semi-consciousness with her own scarf. Dazed, she did not resist, as Norris dragged her behind a nearby hedge and raped her.

Luckily, perhaps because she was semi-unconscious as she was being violated, and thus did not offer much resistance, she survived. Police were unable to act because of her vague description of the attacker. But one month later, the woman saw Norris again. The brave woman memorized his license number and reported it to the police.

To the police's credit, they quickly followed up on the woman's report and arrested Norris. Now convicted of forcible rape, Norris was shipped to the California men's colony at San Luis Obispo. It could have been worse. The colony is easy time as California prisons go. A cakewalk compared to Soledad Folsom or San Quentin.

Norris also met a friend at the colony who would change his life. Reminiscing years later, Norris would claim that Larry Bittiger twice saved his life at San Luis Obispo. The experience bound him to Bittiger. Although the details are vague, the prison code demanded that Norris follow any plan Bittiger devised, no matter how bizarre.

It helped, of course, that they shared near-identical fantasies of domination, rape, and torture. Next time a woman fell into his clutches, Bittiger confided he would kill her afterward, a surefire method of evading punishment. In fact, he thought, it might be fun to play a game.

selecting one victim for each teen year, 13 through 19, and to see how long each victim could be kept alive and screaming. Bittger was paroled on the 15th of November, 1978, returning to Los Angeles, where he found work as a machinist. Norris was freed exactly two months later, on the 15th of January, 1979.

He moved in with his mother at an L.A. trailer park and used his Navy training to find work as an electrician. Bitteker wrote to Norris in February 1979 and arranged a rendezvous at a cheap downtown hotel. Over drinks, they renewed their prison friendship and repeated their dark desires. Spring was coming to the Southland. It was nearly hunting season.

As a first step toward fulfilling his vision, Whitaker purchased a silver 1977 GMC cargo van. The van had its advantages. There were no side windows to worry about, and there was a large sliding door on the passenger side. If their intended victims spurned the offer of a ride,

Bitteker reasoned they could pull up real close and not have to open the doors all the way to snatch someone from the sidewalk. Larry named the van Murder Mac. From February to June 1979, Bitteker and Norris cruised up and down the Pacific Coast Highway.

They stopped at beaches, flirted with girls, and often took their photos. Norris later estimated that they picked up twenty prospects without harming one, and his estimate may have been low. Detectives later counted some five hundred photos of smiling young women among Bittiger's belongings. Most were never identified. They were test runs, Norris later explained.

The rape and murder could wait until they found the perfect isolated spot to take their victims. Sometime in late April, cruising aimlessly, the hunters found a remote fire road in the San Gabriel Mountains, overlooking Glendora. A padlocked gate barred access, but Bittaker smashed the lock with a crowbar. They were in.

and had found their perfect murder paradise. Now, all they needed was a girl. They found her on the 24th of June, 1979. Whittaker would later tell police that the day started innocently enough. He spent a night in Murder Mac, parked outside the trailer Roy Norris shared with his mother.

They spent the morning working on a bed Bittergood had constructed in the back of the van. The bed was mounted on a frame, with space beneath it to conceal a body. At about eleven a.m., they began prowling. Bittergood described it as a nice Sunday to cruise around the beach area, drinking beer, smoking grass, and flirting with the girls. We had no set routine."

They made the rounds, driving north and hitting all the stops between Redondo Beach and Santa Monica, keeping an eye out for female hitchhikers. Sometimes they'd park the van and scout a stretch of sand on foot. It was 5 p.m. back in Redondo Beach when they found a likely target. She took them both completely by surprise.

Bittiger and Norris later quarreled over who was first to notice 16-year-old Cindy Schaefer. Each man accused the other of pointing her out and suggesting that she be the first contestant in their game. Ironically, she was not at the beach or wearing a swimsuit.

In fact, Schaefer was walking back to her grandmother's house after a Christian youth meeting at St. Andrew's Presbyterian Church. Murder Mac pulled alongside, and Norris offered her a ride. Schaefer declined and ignored the van as it trailed behind her. Then the van surged ahead and swung into a driveway, motor idling.

Norris met her on the sidewalk, smiling, repeating his offer. As Schaefer brushed past him, Roy grabbed her and violently forced her into the van. The sliding door worked perfectly, muffling her cries for help as Bitteker cranked up the radio's volume. Norris grappled with Schaefer and then sealed her lips with duct tape.

He also bound her wrists and ankles. One shoe was left behind on the sidewalk as Murder Mac sped away. In his prison-panned memoirs, Bittiger later recalled that throughout the whole experience, Cindy displayed a magnificent state of self-control and composed acceptance of the conditions and facts over which she had no control.

She shed no tears, offered no resistance, and expressed no great concern for her safety. I guess she knew what was coming. Or, perhaps Bitteker, as most psychopaths are wont to do, simply lied. He drove to the mountain fire-road and parked out of sight from the highway.

The men smoked grass and questioned Schaefer about her family, until they tired of the routine and ordered her to strip naked in front of them. Bittiker left the van for an hour or so, giving Norris some privacy. Then he came back to take his turn, torturing and raping the sixteen-year-old girl. In custody months later, each accused the other of insisting that Schaefer die.

Norris first tried to strangle Schaefer, but he bungled the job. He left to vomit in the weeds. When he returned, Norris said, Bittiger was choking Schaefer, but her body was still jerking, alive to some degree, breathing or trying to breathe. Bittiger then handed Norris a wire coat hanger, and they twisted it around her neck.

tightening the makeshift garrotte with vice grip pliers. Norris recalled that Schaefer convulsed for fifteen seconds or so, and that was it. She just died, end quote. They had now committed their first murder, and I will say that it surpassed most other known serial killer murders in cruelty and sadism.

The young girl, completely innocent and probably terrified beyond belief, had been raped, anally, vaginally, tortured, and finally strangled to death with a homemade garrote, an extremely painful and drawn-out way to die. The whole ordeal lasted several hours.

wrapping the body in a plastic shower curtain. Bittiger and Norris drove back along the fire road until they found a deep canyon. They lifted Schaefer's body from the van and heaved her into the chasm. Bittiger said that the desert scavengers would clean up after them. It had been nearly perfect, the exhausted friends agreed, but there was something missing. Next time, they would keep a trophy of the hunt.

Bittaker and Norris went hunting again. On Sunday, the 8th of July, 1979, in early afternoon, they saw a likely prospect, thumbing rides along Pacific Coast Highway. But a driver of a white convertible pulled in ahead of them and plucked her from the roadside. Norris grumbled over their bad luck, but Bittaker counseled patience.

They would follow the convertible for a while and see where the hitchhiker was dropped off. Their patience was soon rewarded. The convertible's driver signaled for an exit ramp ahead, braking first to deposit his passenger on the berm. She stuck out a thumb, waiting for the next ride. Meanwhile, Norris left Murder Mac's passenger seat and threw himself under the raised bed in back.

It was a change in strategy to make the van appear less threatening. It worked. Andrea Hall was eighteen and thankful for the ride. She introduced herself to Bitteker as he pulled back into traffic, gratefully accepting his offer of a cold drink. Hall went to fetch it from the cooler in the rear of the van, choosing a soda and turning back toward her seat.

Norris lunged from hiding then, and swept her legs out from under her. More grappling on the floor of Murder Mac, more blaring music from the radio as Bittiger drove on. Andrea fought for her life, but Norris was too strong. Twisting an arm behind her back until she finally surrendered, the submission enabled Norris to bind her wrists and ankles and cover her mouth with duct tape.

The fire road was familiar territory now. There was no time for small talk with their second victim. They repeatedly raped her by turns, anally and vaginally. When both of them were tired, Bitteker loaded his Polaroid camera, dragged Hall from the van, and sent Norris on a beer run down the mountain to a small roadside convenience store.

When Norris returned, he found Bittaker alone, smiling over photos of Andrea Hall, her face contorted by fear. "'He told me that he told her he was going to kill her,' Norris later informed police. He wanted to see what her argument would be for staying alive. He said that she didn't put up much of an argument.'

Bittiker told Norris that he had stabbed Hall twice with an ice-pick, once in each air, but he had to strangle her when she did not die. Judging by this information, we can surmise that the stabs into the ears with an ice-pick had not been deep enough to be immediately fatal.

That means that the ice pick would have penetrated the girl's ear canal, through her eardrum and into her auditory nerve. The pain of this would have been extreme. If you, dear listener, have ever had an ear infection, you know how painful that is. Multiply that by a factor of a thousand.

The poor girl's adrenaline levels would also have been very much elevated, so the pain would by no means have been lessened by shock or other trauma. When the murder was finished, Bitteker said he had pitched her off a cliff.

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Hey, I'm Ryan Reynolds. Recently, I asked Mint Mobile's legal team if big wireless companies are allowed to raise prices due to inflation. They said yes. And then when I asked if raising prices technically violates those onerous two-year contracts, they said, what the f*** are you talking about, you insane Hollywood a**hole?

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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.

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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. Fisker and Norris made their third foray on Labor Day, the 3rd of September, 1979.

Cruising through Hermosa Beach, they spotted two girls seated on a bench at a bus stop, where Pier Avenue met Pacific Coast Highway. Fifteen-year-old Jackie Gilliam and thirteen-year-old Leah Lamp weren't waiting for the bus, but they seemed happy to accept a ride with no special destination in mind.

Bittiger and Norris later told police the girls were also glad to accept Larry's offer to smoke a joint. Lighting up, he passed the joint around and told his passengers that he was heading for the beach. Jackie and Leah challenged him moments later, as Bittiger turned away from the ocean and started driving northward.

But he stalled them with excuses, claiming he merely wanted to find a safe place to park while they got high. The girls protested when Bitteker parked near a suburban tennis court. Leah started to open the door, but Norris was faster, swinging a sword of baseball bat against her skull. A fierce struggle ensued.

Bittiger waded in to help Norris, finally subduing the teenagers and trussing them with duct tape. Only when they were secured and silenced did he notice several tennis players watching from the nearby court. Worried that someone might call the police, Bittiger gunned the van and sped away toward his hideout in the San Gabriel Mountains. But no one called the police.

The witnesses returned to their tennis games, somehow dismissing the violent incident. Bitteker and Norris kept their latest hostages alive for nearly two days. They kept an audio tape of their rape and torture. Among other things, the tape captured Norris raping Jackie Gilliam.

demanding that she play the role of a cousin who was the object of some of his sexual fantasies. Tired of the game and running dangerously late for work, Bittiger repeated his trick with the ice pick, stabbing Gilliam in both ears. As with Andrea Hall, it made her scream out in extreme pain and terror and failed to kill her.

So the rapists took turns strangling Jackie to death. Afterward, they turned on thirteen-year-old Leah. Bittiger squeezed her throat with his hands, while Norris pounded her head seven times with a sledgehammer. According to the killers, they had only tortured thirteen-year-old Leah, not raped her.

She had said she wanted to die a virgin, so they said they had made sure of that. They pitched their victims off a cliff, with the ice pick still embedded in Jackie Gilliam's skull. On Sunday, the 30th of September, they selected Shirley Sanders, an Oregon resident, visiting her father in Manhattan Beach.

When she declined a lift in Murder Mac, they sprayed Sanders with chemical mace and dragged her kicking from the sidewalk. Both men raped her in the van, but they were careless, and she managed to escape. Sanders immediately reported the assault, but she could not identify her assailants.

She did not remember the license plate. Unable to pursue the matter further, she returned to Oregon. The next month was nerve-wracking for Bittiger and Norris, worried that police might comfort them at any moment. Bittiger found a new apartment in Burbank, while Norris remained with his mother. The killers began to relax as the weeks passed without any signs of police attention.

The pair went hunting again on Halloween night, deviating from their beach routine to prowl the residential streets of the Sunland and Tijunga district of the San Fernando Valley. They spotted 16-year-old Shirley Lynette Ledford hitchhiking and offered her a ride. She happily accepted.

and within five minutes, Norris wrestled her to murder Max Flohr. Now, what follows is very graphic, and I must warn you that it is extremely disturbing. If you are sensitive to graphic descriptions of extreme violence, do not listen to the next five minutes of this episode.

Bitteker chose not to waste time driving to the mountains. They could rape and torture Ledford just as well, he reasoned, while they drove around the suburbs of Los Angeles. Norris took the driver's seat while Bitteker turned on a tape recorder and went to work on their captive. What follows is a transcript of the audio tape they recorded for their own amusement.

It was recovered by authorities and used in their trial as evidence. This transcript does not include extensive periods where all one hears are Shirley's heartbreaking screams, weeping, gasps of pain, agony and wailing, but it gives a very clear image of what happened. Bitteker slapping Shirley. "'Say something, girl. Huh? Huh?'

Ledford. "'What do you want me to say?' Bittiker. "'Huh? Huh? Say something, girl.' "'Don't you hit me. Huh? Huh?' Bittiker. "'Say something, girl. Huh?' Ledford. "'Ouch!' Shirley begins to scream. Bittiker. "'Say something. Come on. You can scream louder than that, can't you? Huh? What's the matter? Don't you like to scream?' Slapping sounds can be heard. Ledford screams. "'Oh, no!'

Bittaker. What's the matter, huh? You want to try again? Leadfoot. Screams. Oh no, don't touch me. No. Bittaker. Huh? You want to try again? Leadfoot. Oh no, don't touch me. No, don't touch me. No, no, no, no, no, no. Bittaker. Want to try again? Leadfoot. No, no, no, no, no, no, no.

At this point, Shirley begins to cry profusely. She begs Bittaker to stop hitting her, saying again, No, don't touch me. Given what Bittaker next says, it is likely Shirley curls into a ball and turns away from him as she weeps. Bittaker, roll over, girl. Ludford, no, don't touch me. Bittaker, roll over. Ludford, pleading tone in voice, don't touch me.

Bitteker slapping Shirley. "'Start getting to work, girl!' Ledford. "'Don't touch me!' Bitteker. "'Start getting to work, girl!' Ledford crying. "'Don't touch me! Don't touch me!' Bitteker. "'Get to work, girl!' Ledford. "'Don't touch me!' Bitteker. "'Roll over! I'm not asking you, I'm telling you!' Bitteker. "'Roll over!' Ledford. Crying sounds can be heard.'

Bitteker, come on, come on, come on. What are you doing? What are you doing? Ledford, huh? Bitteker, what are you doing? Ledford, I'm not doing anything. I'm trying to do what you wanted me to do. Bitteker, what did I want you to do? Ledford, suck on it. Bitteker, suck on what? Ledford, this. Bitteker, what's this? Ledford,

"'Your dick,' Bittaker. "'Yeah? Say it.' "'Ledford.' "'Your dick,' Bittaker. "'You're sucking on my dick, Ledford.' "'That's what you wanted me to do?' "'Bittaker. Is that what you're doing?' "'Ledford.' "'Yes, I was.' "'Bittaker. Tell me, Ledford.' "'Yes.' "'Bittaker. Tell me what you are doing.' "'Ledford.' "'I'm sucking on your dick.'

Bittaker. Do you want to do it? Ledford. You want me to? Bittaker. You want a girl? You want to suck my dick, baby, huh? Huh? Hey, start answering me. Beating sounds can be heard. Ledford. Yes. Bittaker. Tell me. Ledford. Yes. Bittaker. Beg me. Ledford. Yes. Bittaker. What? Hey, what do you want, girl?

Ludford. I want to suck on your dick. Bittaker. You don't sound like you really mean it. Slapping sounds. Ludford. I do. Bittaker, laughing. Suck on it, then. Come on, start sucking on it. No matter what you can do, squeeze hard. You understand? And if it hurts any time, you want to scream, go ahead and scream. Ludford. Oh no! Screams.

"'Bittaker. Scream, baby. Go ahead and scream. Scream, baby.' At this point, after Bittaker had forced Shirley to fillate him, repeated sounds of an administered beating, interspersed with loud screams, can be heard, as Bittaker savagely beat Shirley about the breasts and, to a lesser degree, head.

Bittiger then extracted his pliers from the toolbox. Shirley then emits several high-pitched, prolonged screams and cries of agony as Bittiger alternately squeezes and twists her labia, clitoris, nipples, and breasts with the pliers. Bittiger then returns the pliers to the toolbox.

Banging sounds can also be heard throughout, which are believed to have been made as Shirley came into contact with the walls and inner contents of the van as she writhed and flailed in agony. Ledford. My God, please stop it! Screams. Bittaker. Is the recorder going? Norris. Yeah. Bittaker. Scream, baby. Scream some, baby. Ledford. I can't.

Bitteker screams a more, baby. Come on, baby. Come on. Nobody's going to hurt you. Turn over and talk to me nice. Love me. You want nothing more in the world than to make me come, huh? Ledford, still crying, says something unintelligible, which ends with her saying, that's right. Bitteker, say it again, baby. What do you want, huh? What do you want? Ledford, your cock.

Bittaker. Where do you want it, baby, huh? Ledford. I want to hold it and squeeze it. Bittaker. Why? Ledford. It feels good, cause you like it and I like it. Bittaker. You want me to come, baby? Ledford. Oh yeah. Bittaker. You want me to come, yeah? Want me to come? Tell me, baby. Beating and slapping sounds. Ledford. Yeah. Bittaker.

Bittaker. "'Tell me—' Ledford. "'Yeah.' Bittaker. "'Huh?' Ledford. "'Oh, yeah.' Bittaker. "'Hey, girl, you want me to put a pair of pliers up your cunt?' Ledford. "'What?' Bittaker. "'You want to make me come, huh? You want to make me come, huh? Huh? You want to make me come, girl? Huh?' Ledford. "'Oh, yes.' Followed by a scream.

Bitteker. Yes, what? Ledford. I want you to come. Come, screams. Come on. Shirley Ledford then screams in agony as Bitteker inserts the pliers inside her vagina and twists them, tearing her. Bitteker. Stop screaming at me. Come on, talk to me. Ledford. Come, come, come, please. Come, come, come.

Bitteker, where do you want me to come, baby? Bitteker, I want you to come. Bitteker, where do you want me to come? Bitteker, where do you want me to come? Bitteker, your cock, I want you to come. Bitteker, come where? Bitteker, come where? Bitteker, come where? Bitteker, in me.

Bitchiker. Where? Ledford. Come. Bitchiker. Where? Ledford. All over. All over. Ledford. Scream. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. More screaming. Bitchiker. Is the recorder going? Norris. What? Bitchiker. Is the recorder going? Norris. Emphasis. Yeah. Ledford. Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, oh, no. Sobbing sounds.

A sharp, shrill scream, followed by wailing sounds, follow. It is believed to be at this point when Bittaker, having already sodomized Shirley, inserted the pliers into her rectum and twisted them, tearing her and splitting the lining inside her rectum.

Banging sounds can again be heard as Shirley came into contact with the walls and inner content of the van, as she again writhed and flailed in utter agony. Ledford, screaming. No, no, no, oh, no, oh! Screaming. At this point Norris traded places with Bitteker, as Shirley lay crying and moaning in the back of the van.

Three of the four victims previously killed had all been vaginally raped by Norris, but as Bichiker had viciously torn Shirley's genitals and rectum with his pliers, causing her to bleed, Norris did not vaginally or anally rape her. Instead, Norris forced the already agonized girl to fellate him, then switched on the tape recorder himself.

"'Norris, make noise there, girl. Go ahead and scream, or I'll make you scream.' "'Ledford, loud pleading tone. "'I'll scream if you stop hitting me.' "'Norris, enthusiastic tone in voice. "'Oh, yeah?' "'Ledford, screaming. "'Norris, keep it up, girl.' "'Ledford, screaming. "'Norris, more. "'Ledford, screaming. "'Norris, till I say stop.'

"'Ledford continues screaming. "'Unintelligible sounds are heard, "'interspersed with sounds of Shirley Ledford crying and moaning. "'Sounds of Norris extracting the sledgehammer from the toolbox "'can then be heard as Shirley, seeing him do this, "'again begins crying and shouts, "'Oh no! No! Oh!' "'She then screams in fear, again shouts, "'Oh no! No! No!' before again screaming.'

Norris strikes Shirley on the elbow. Ledford. You broke it! Norris. I barely hit it. Ledford, pleading and sobbing. Don't hit me again! Norris. Oh yeah? Norris can be heard lifting the sledgehammer from either the floor of the van or possibly the wooden frame of the bed the two had constructed in the rear of the van. Ledford, screaming. No, no, no, no, no, no, no!

Bludgeoning sounds can be heard, interspersed with repeated high-pitched screams. Ledford, no, no, no, no, no! Scream, oh no, no, no, no! Shirley is struck 25 times in succession, on the left elbow by Norris, who repeatedly fractures her left elbow. Each time the hammer strikes her, a piercing scream can be heard. At one point,

She may have tried to say something, but her voice had become an unintelligible mass of pain. Norris. How's that? Bittiger. Driving. What's going on? Norris. I was just beating her on her elbows with the hammer. Bittiger. Ah! Ledford. Ah! Screams as Norris again repeatedly strikes her elbow with the hammer.

"'Norris, what are you sniveling about?' "'Ledford, scream. "'No. Oh, ow!' "'I—' repeated screams. More screaming. The tape recorder is then switched off before Norris strangles Shirley by twisting a wire coat hanger around her neck. The last words Shirley Lynette Ledford spoke at the end of her short life were, "'Do it. Just kill me.'

Bittiger and Norris then drove to dispose of Shirley Lynette Ledford's horrifically ravaged, battered, broken, and torn body. Her body also bore deep welt marks to the wrists and ankles, indicating just how much Shirley Lynette had writhed and struggled against her restraints. In one final act of degradation,

Norris splayed Shirley Lynette's naked body face upwards, with arms outstretched and legs apart. The find shocked Los Angeles, since it came only days after the arrest of hillside strangler Angelo Buono. The police said they were unaware of any other Buono victims. This occurred, remember, in the true heyday of serial murder, the late 70s.

and several killers operated simultaneously in the same region. This made investigation extra difficult, and offered plausible defenses to many of the killers. Lynette was the second 16-year-old Bittaker and Norris had murdered, leaving three teenagers unaccounted for. The hunters did not worry, though. From where they sat, it seemed as if they had all the time in the world.

But they were mistaken. Roy Norris himself was part of the problem. Despite the murder game's shortcomings, Norris enjoyed it so much that he simply couldn't keep quiet. By October 1979, he had started bragging to another friend from prison, Jimmy Dalton, emphasizing his role as a criminal mastermind. Dalton thought it all was talk until Ledford's body was found.

He called his lawyer, and they both went to the Los Angeles police. L.A.'s finest listened to Dalton's story and then passed him to detectives in Hermosa Beach, where Ledford's corpse had been discarded. Hermosa Beach detective Paul Bynum headed the Ledford investigation.

He had no forensic evidence to support a charge in the Ledford slaying, but Dalton's mention of a silver van rang a bell in Bynum's memory. He dispatched an officer to Oregon to interview Shirley Sanders, who had been attacked one month before. Photographs were proffered for Sanders to examine. Leafing through the stack, she picked out Bittaker and Norris as the men who had kidnapped and raped her.

Bynum approached Deputy District Attorney Steve Kaye, who had prosecuted Norris on his previous rape charge, in Redondo Beach. Kaye cautioned patience, even though a quick arrest would halt the murder spree. They needed time to build a strong case. Police mounted surveillance on the pair. Once again, Norris was the weak link. He was seen selling marijuana on the streets.

And so it was that police made their move two days before Thanksgiving 1979. They arrested Norris for parole violation on the marijuana charge, while Bitteker was jailed on suspicion of kidnapping and raping Shirley Sanders. Norris waived his right to counsel and sparred with the interrogators for a while.

Eventually he crumbled, casting himself as a reluctant accomplice to murders planned and carried out by Bitteker. The prison code demanded that he go along for the ride, Norris insisted. After all, he owed Bitteker his life, but apparently not his silence. On the strength of Norris's confession—

Both men were charged with five counts of first-degree murder, plus additional charges of kidnapping, robbery, rape, deviant sexual assault and criminal conspiracy. Each defendant tried to blame the other for the most egregious acts. Norris now claimed that he had been high on drugs most of the time, unable to resist Bittica.

But the audio tapes told a different story, revealing Norris as a full participant. Norris realized he would have to do more to avoid the death penalty. In February 1980, Norris led Detective Bynum, Steve Kaye, and members of the Sierra Madre search and rescue team on a tour of the San Gabriel murder sites.

They found Leah Lamp and Jackie Gillum, with Bitteker's ice pick still buried in Gillum's ear. But no trace was found of Cindy Schaefer or Andrea Hall. They were lost forever. But Norris had delivered enough evidence to clinch his plea bargain. Reluctantly, Steve Kaye agreed to waive the death penalty and grant a life sentence with parole eligibility,

in return for Norris's testimony against Bitteker. Before a defendant is formally sentenced, California requires a report and a sentencing recommendation from a parole officer. Norris's jail inquisitor noted Roy's casual, unconcerned manner as he discussed the five murders without regret. In the officer's opinion,

Norris appears compulsive in his need and desire to inflict pain and torture upon women. The defendant himself acknowledged that in the commission of rape upon a woman, it was not the sex that was important, but the domination of the woman. In considering the defendant's total lack of remorse about the plight of the victims,

he can realistically be regarded as an extreme sociopath whose depraved, grotesque pattern of behavior is beyond rehabilitation. The magnitude and the enormity of the defendant's heinous, nightmarish criminal behavior is beyond the comprehension of this probation officer."

With that finding on file, Norris was sentenced to 45 years to life, with a minimum of 30 years to serve before parole. Roy Norris initially became eligible for parole in 2009. Norris declined to attend the parole hearing, thereby automatically deferring his parole eligibility for another 10 years.

He was again denied parole in 2019 and will not be eligible for parole until 2029. Steve Kaye was committed to seeking the death penalty for Lawrence Bitteker.

In an unwitting tribute to Bitteker's jailhouse ambition, Kay declared that for sheer brutality the crimes of Charles Manson's cultists didn't come close to Bitteker's rampage.

Despite his experience in prosecuting rapists, murderers, and every other kind of felon, Kay twice broke down weeping during Bitteker's three-week trial. For his part, the defendant seemed to enjoy the proceedings. Bitteker had prepared for trial by writing his memoirs, fittingly titled The Last Ride. Though warned repeatedly by his attorney,

Bittiger insisted on finishing the manuscript, apparently convinced that jurors would believe his assertion that Norris masterminded the operation. The gamble failed, and on the 17th of February 1981, Bittiger was found guilty on five murder counts and 21 other related felonies.

California, like all other states, holds its criminal trials in stages. The first determines guilt or innocence. The second, if a defendant is convicted, determines punishment. To support a death sentence, California prosecutors must demonstrate special circumstances.

such as slayings deemed especially heinous, atrocious or cruel, manifesting exceptional depravity. Bitteker's personal audiotapes, a transcript of one you have just heard here tonight, were replayed for the jury, which promptly recommended death. As with Norris, another probation report was generated. Bitteker's examiner wrote that

During the years this officer has been submitting evaluations to the court, he has had occasion to interview many individuals convicted of brutal crimes, but none to the extent of the ones for which this defendant has been convicted. During the interviews with him, although verbalizing some feeling for the teenage deaths that he has caused, there is no outward expression or emotion displayed.

His total attitude was almost as if he had been able to divorce himself from the emotion felt by the major portion of society. End quote. The report concluded that there was little doubt that he would return to a life of crime, and possibly a life of violence, if released into society.

The jury's recommended sentence clearly would be the most permanent protection available. The judge agreed, and Bittiger was sentenced to death on the 24th of March, 1981. Death penalty sentences are neither sure nor swift. Appeal of a death sentence is automatic, regardless of the defendant's wishes.

Two years elapsed before the California Supreme Court appointed Bitteker's appellate attorney. Six more before the same court affirmed Bitteker's death sentence on the 28th of June, 1989. Bitteker was absent the 4th of October, 1989, when Torrance Judge John Shook set his execution for the 29th of December, but he had little to fare.

His attorney filed yet another appeal that automatically stayed the execution. On the 11th of June 1990, the California Supreme Court declined to hear the case again. Later that same year, while actor Scott Glenn was preparing for his role as an FBI profiler in The Silence of the Lambs,

He visited the Bureau's Behavioral Science Unit at Quantico, Virginia. Legendary profiler John Douglas gave Glenn a tour of the facility. Glenn listened to the Bitteker Norris tapes, and he left Douglas' office in tears. He told reporters that he entered the office as a death penalty opponent. He left staunchly in favor of capital punishment.

When Bitteker was not busy drafting appeals, he amused himself by filing frivolous suits against the state prison system. There were more than 40 in all by October 1995. In one case where he claimed he had been subjected to cruel and unusual punishment,

By receipt of a broken cookie on his lunch tray, state officials paid $5,000 to have the suit dismissed. Before the state was granted summary judgment, they had to prove that Bitteker could skip lunch and still survive by only eating breakfast and dinner. It was all great fun and cost Bitteker nothing.

Since California, prisoners are permitted to file their suits for free. When not pursuing nuisance litigation, Bittiger enjoyed a daily game of bridge with fellow inmates Randy Kraft, Douglas Clark, and William Bonin. Themselves convicted serial killers with an estimated 94 victims among them.

The game was left shorthanded in February 1996, after Bonin was executed. But Bittiger had other diversions. In the late 1990s, a catalogue of prison memorabilia offered his fingernail clippings for sale to murder groupies, and there is fan mail, enough to keep him busy between card games.

At 78 years old, his thinning hair is grey, as is his scraggly moustache. He is slight, not very tall, and usually wears a white T-shirt and shorts. He talks softly with a slight twang. He spends his days on death row in California's famous prison, San Quentin. Bitteker often signs his letters with a nickname, Pliers Bitteker.

We'll be right back.

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And so ends The Toolbox Killers, my special expose into the life and crimes of Lawrence Bittaker and Roy Lewis Norris. Next week I will give you a fresh new serial killer expose. So, as they say in the land of radio, stay tuned. I have been your host, Thomas Weyberg Thun.

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