| |
The letters Hickock wrote to Nations are effusively detailed, energized by Hickock’s uncommon ability to visualize scenes and images with near-perfect clarity, despite his reflexive prattle and boasting. And while I am neither qualified to analyze his psychopathy nor is that the goal here, we must take into account Dr. W. Mitchell Jones’s diagnosis of Hickock’s “psychopathic and sociopathic” tendencies[159] when considering his correspondence with Mack Nations. (In the 1960s, psychiatric interviews of offenders were scarcely comparable to the full diagnostic work-ups of today. Psychiatrists at the time lacked diagnostic instruments with the degree of sophistication, validity, and reliability that they have now; even the terms psychopath and sociopath have evolved.)
The bulk of Hickock’s writings—most neatly printed in block letters, many in surprisingly graceful cursive—conform to the story as it’s currently known. But he divulges a number of puzzling details that, to some, amount to little more than the ramblings of a pathological liar. Others, however, feel that certain of Hickock’s revelations cannot be easily dismissed, especially since they are corroborated, at least in part, by official police reports.
That these letters have until now remained largely unknown is a curiosity on its own. We know the originals were intercepted by censors at KSP in 1962, which were then forwarded by Warden Tracy Hand to Assistant AG Robert Hoffman, whose certified copies presumably still exist in the files of the attorney general’s office. We also know that Hoffman made copies for himself before sending the originals on to Mack Nations—originals that vanished after Nations’s death, along with the full manuscript of his book High Road to Hell.
What we have yet to find evidence of, however, is any investigation into Hickock’s incriminating assertions. The Kansas attorney general was relying on those same letters to discredit Hickock’s appeal before the U.S. Supreme Court, if it came to that. What are we to make of all this, then, sixty years after the fact?
One dramatic scene in In Cold Blood differs significantly from how Hickock elaborately described it in his letters to Mack Nations, and it’s worth mentioning here not only as historical remedy to the facts, but as an exercise in the curious synchronicity of events.
Two days before 1960 ushered in a new decade beneath the dazzling casino lights and boisterous celebrations of Las Vegas, Nevada, Perry was behind the wheel as he and Dick cruised the Strip in their stolen black-and-white 1956 Chevrolet. It was just after sunset, and the first order of business was to stop at the main post office before it closed to pick up Perry’s box of “junk,” the package he had shipped from Mexico. With that accomplished, the second task was to find a generator, since the one in their stolen car had gone bad.[160]
Rather than buy a new generator, Hickock decided to steal one, a simple ten-minute job if he could find the right car. As Perry pulled into a parking lot off the Strip, Dick spotted the perfect candidate: a 1957 Chevy whose generator he knew would be identical. The lot didn’t have many lights on it, so they sat in the car until it got darker, so as not to be seen.
After about fifteen minutes of waiting, Hickock heard footsteps on the gravel behind the vehicle. Turning to look he saw a heavyset policeman holding a .38 special approach the car on one side, with another officer coming up on them from the other side, his weapon also drawn.
“Judas Priest,” Dick wrote. “...Believe it or not, I felt relieved for the first time in two months. I thought, Well, it’s over.”[161]
Two vigilant Las Vegas police patrolmen had spotted the vehicle and license matching the FBI’s nationwide pickup order. After securing Dick and Perry in their squad car, they searched the stolen vehicle, discovering Perry’s box containing, among his other things, both pairs of boots the killers had worn while slaughtering the Clutter family: Perry’s Cat’s Paw and Hickock’s diamond-patterned soles, the only evidence that would cinch their presence at the crime scene thanks to Rich Rohleder’s keen eye for discovering both boot prints in Herb Clutter’s dried blood stains.
“The one thing that I worried about,” prosecutor Duane West said, “was the fact that our evidence was footprints on the mattress box cover where Mr. Clutter was killed.... I was fearful that they might be arrested but we wouldn’t be able to recover those boots.”[162]
Figure 37. Nye’s report on evidence in the stolen car
Author's archives
On 1-1-60 Agent Nye examined the personal property belonging to both Hickock and Smith. A complete list of the personal property will be attached to this report and filed in our case file. Those items of interest in their property are as follows. In Smiths possessions we found a pair of black engineers boots that had the “cats paw” sole reflecting a design similar to that found at the Clutter Murder scene. A girls pink housecoat bearing the laundry mark of “Alice Ann Combs”; a ladies blouse with the sleeves torn out and the name “Tanner” stamped as a laundry mark in the back and a Navajo blanket. (Lieut. Handlon advised that during the separation of their property Smith had attempted to dispose of the Navajo blanket and the pink housecoat in the waste paper basket.) Richard Eugene Hickock had in his possession a pair of black boots approximately 10” tall that laced completely down to the toe and had a sole design reflecting a “diamond” pattern. This pattern was similar to that observed at the Clutter Murder scene.
Had officers Pigford and Macauley picked up the killers just a short while earlier, before they had stopped at the post office, it’s entirely probable there would have been no evidence at all tying the killers to the crimes apart from Wells’s testimony. Perry’s box of treasures, including the only physical evidence tying them to the crimes,[163] would have ended up in the postal service’s Dead Letter Office where, after one year, its beggarly contents would have been auctioned off or donated to charity.
NB: One observation of note in Nye’s report (above) is Perry Smith’s curious attempt to dispose of two articles found in the car: the Navajo blanket and the girl’s pink housecoat.
In the official (and publicly accessible) investigation files of the Clifford Walker family murders—the December 1959 Florida cold case in which Perry Smith and Richard Hickock have been considered prime suspects—is a letter from Alvin Dewey to Sarasota County Sheriff Ross Boyer, dated January 19, 1960. In it, Dewey cites a detailed timeline of the activities of Smith and Hickock while they were in Florida, based on their interrogations. Two paragraphs describe some of the unusual items in their possession:
At the time of their arrest in Las Vegas, they had in their possession a size 9 girl’s housecoat, pink with a flower design, containing the name “Anna Combs” or “Alice Combs”, also a baby’s undershirt, honeysuckle brand, size 4, for a child between 29-38 lbs., 100% cotton and fairly new, found under the front seat of their car. They claim these came from a Salvation Army post and there is a discrepancy in their stories as to whether these were stolen or given to them.
In regard to the two dolls given by the subjects to Rev. John Gibson...on 12/24/59, they also stated these were obtained from the Salvation Army in Jackson, Miss., and again there is a discrepancy in their stories as to whether these were stolen or given to them.
As of this writing, the Walker family murders remain an unsolved case, although Sarasota County detectives remain convinced that, despite having passed a 1960 polygraph test about their involvement in the crimes, Smith and Hickock are still the prime suspects. In 2013 Florida authorities had their bodies exhumed for DNA testing, the results of which were deemed “inconclusive.”[164]
With chilling objectivity, Hickock’s letters reveal a callous emotional detachment as he recites the most gruesome events.
In a letter to Mack Nations dated June 12, 1961, Hickock signed off with his assurance of fidelity to the facts: [Spelling, grammar, and punctuation are shown as they appear in the original letters; missing off-margin words have been supplemented as presumed for continuity; emphasis added for discussion]:
Mr. Nations:
I found as I was writing the prior material that my memory became quite vivid. I rewrote it three times before I felt I had it all in.... I hope I haven’t outdone myself on this, but I can connect the emotions with the same ones or type that I had at the Clutter house. I never made the connection before, and when I started writing this, they seemed to fall in, or fit in, I don’t know quite how to describe it. I know you were wanting emotional feelings, and I hope I have adequately described it for you. My lack of a sufficient vocabulary is a great hindrance to my writing, but this particular one, seems to me, to be some of the best I have written. I may have got carried away with it, but as I wrote, I actually relived the event.... I realize it tends to make me look worse than ever, but I wasn’t going to polish it up to make me look better. I explained to you before that I would tell you the facts, regardless what they were.
Figure 38. Richard E. Hickock - Prisoner #14746
Author's archives
Following are key excerpts of Hickock’s letters to Mack Nations relevant to the matter at hand.
In an early letter, Hickock describes how he and Smith entered the Clutter home through an unlocked door off the kitchen. His remarks here also suggest that this was an act of premeditation—and that he was being paid for it:
Figure 39. Hickock implies premeditation; paid for the job
Author's archives [missing off-margin words; supplemented as presumed]
I gently pushed the door open and entered the house. It was dark. The only light visible was coming in around the blinds at the windows. I turned the light on in the kitchen and the sudden beam of light was frightening. I shut it off. It was really dark then. We moved forward as quickly as possible, but no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t stop the floor from squeeking. They hear it, I thought, I know they do. I’ve got to hurry....
I don’t know why, it is hard to explain, but I felt a measure of mixed emotions. I felt excitement, a thrill. I was going to kill a person. Maybe more than one. Could I do it? Maybe I’ll back out. What if they are not home? I hope their not. But I can’t back out, I’ve taken the money. I’ve spent some of it. Besides I thought, I know too much. What would my partner think if I backed out?
Here Hickock appears to define the limits of his objective: “I was going to kill a person. Maybe more than one.”
Why would he single out just one life (“kill a person”), adding the possibility of killing more almost as an afterthought? He also used first person singular, “I”—“I’ve taken the money. I’ve spent some of it”—not “we,” implying that his intentions and rewards may not have been shared or even known by Perry Smith. It could be an important distinction, helping to understand why Smith never spoke of such a conspiracy.
For the first time anywhere, Hickock reveals he had actually received money for the job, some of which he had already spent. And what was it he knew “too much” about?
Of the hundreds of pages that likely comprised Mack Nations’s original book manuscript, only a single torn page has survived. In it, Hickock describes a visit to the Finney County jail by his father Walter and brother David soon after the crimes, during which his father asked him one notable question:
Figure 40. Hickock’s father asks if Dick got paid for murders
Courtesy of Michael Nations[165]
I was taken to the top floor of the court house, where the jail is located, and locked in a cell away from the rest of the prisoners. I didn't know what to expect from the crowds outside. I had heard of incidents where men were taken from a jail and hung to the closest tree. But the night proved uneventful, as far as we were concerned.
But I decided to wait a while, and see what developed. I had a visit by my dad and brother.
I had been at Garden City about two or three weeks, when they came to see me. One of the first questions my dad asked me, was, if I was paid for it. I told him no, that it wasn't anything like that. He then proceeded to tell me, how he had been questioned as to the possibility of me having any large sum of money. He told me how three different men had asked him the same thing.
Assuming the “three different men” who questioned Hickock’s father about “a large sum of money” were law enforcement officers (the most reasonable deduction, since they were in the jailhouse), each must have had good reason to pursue that line of inquiry, especially tied to the prospect of a large sum of money.
One wonders what the basis might have been for even asking the question. Undoubtedly, Hickock’s reply to his father’s question starkly contradicts what he wrote in his letters to Mack Nations.
But the scene takes an even more interesting turn. In his 2010 memoir, David Hickock spoke openly about having agonized for years over his brother’s actions, tortured over his own role in having innocently bought Dick the shotgun that was used to murder the Clutter family.
Describing that first jailhouse meeting, numbed with shock at what he was hearing, David relates how he and his father listened as his older brother dispassionately recounted gruesome details of the crime he had just freely confessed to masterminding, adding Dick’s curious assertion about “other details” [emphasis added]:
When I finally asked Dick if all the stories on television were true, he shrugged and simply said, “Not all of them.” According to Dick, the story of that fateful night had many of the same components that we heard on television, but he knew other details that only appeared in his version of the story.[166]
Shouldering the guilt for being an unwitting accomplice in the crimes weighed heavily on David for the rest of his life. His memoir, a form of atonement for Dick’s crimes 40 years earlier, sought to rationalize the actions of a brother he loved, but in whom he found unsettling flaws:
It is so strange when I think about my part in buying the gun and the fact that no one ever questioned me about it. I do not even know if law enforcement officials ever checked out the fact that I had bought the gun used in the murders.... A more thorough investigation would have been done and I would have been interrogated. I do not understand why they did not investigate certain aspects of the crime.[167]
In what appears to be another example of rushing the investigation, the KBI never interviewed David Hickock nor traced the origins of the weapon, a compulsory protocol that would have been thoroughly probed even in those days. That such a lead was overlooked fits with other lapses previously noted.
In the following passages from his letters, Hickock makes what may be his most intriguing statements: that someone identified simply as “Roberts” had provided the diagram of the Clutter home. Hickock also lays out what can only be described as setting the scene for a “staged” robbery, premeditating Mr. Clutter’s singular fate:
Just like the diagram Roberts had given me showed, a hallway led off to the left, and on the left of this was the bed room. I flashed the light in the bedroom and the beam fell across the bed. A man sat up and said “who is it”? I told him, “Take it easy pop.” I thought to myself, where is the rest of the family? We can’t let him have it until we know where the rest of them are. My partner told him, “Come on get up.” I asked him ”You got a safe?” I hadn’t seen it when I had the light on in the west room. Of course it didn’t look good. We escorted Clutter into the west room, and figured we just as well get all we can. Besides, we had to make it look like a robbery.
Apart from the hotel guest registers shown earlier, “Roberts” is a name that appears in no other document I’ve seen—not in Harold Nye’s notes, not in accessible police or KBI reports, not in Capote’s or Lee’s notes, nor on the pages of In Cold Blood or any other book related to the Clutter case. Nowhere. It’s hard to imagine Hickock simply invented the name, or that it was just a mistake.
As we know the story, at least Capote’s version, it was Floyd Wells who purportedly drew that diagram when he and Hickock celled together at KSP, as well as the map leading to River Valley Farm and all the details of the Clutter family, including their ages and where each family member slept.
The problem with accepting Capote’s rendering, as noted earlier, is that Floyd Wells could not possibly have known anything about the new house. By his own testimony in court, and the factual timeline supporting it, Wells said he had never been in the new house; that he left Clutter’s employ before the house was even finished and the family had moved in. He also confirmed that he “had made no maps or drawings for Hickock.”[168]
The next phrase is of unusual importance: “We can’t let him have it until we know where the rest of them are.” This presupposes that there was a plan to kill Herb Clutter regardless of any money that might be found in the non-existent safe. It suggests, in other words, that the crime was premeditated, as does the statement, “we had to make it look like a robbery.” If the motive was robbery, why would they need to make it look like a robbery? Finally, why would Hickock have to wait to “let him have it” until the whereabouts of the rest of the family was known?
Even assuming Hickock was juicing the story to provide a livelier rendition of the crimes for the book on which he and Mack Nations were working, why didn’t he stick with the well-known facts, adding the dramatic nuance his collaborator had expected? How could such wildly divergent yet precise details possibly be construed as anything but fantasy? For such a shrewd and calculating person, it makes no sense.
Unless, of course, he was telling the truth as he knew it.
In another passage, Hickock further alludes to making the crime appear to be a robbery:
Figure 41. Hickock wanted Clutter’s wallet found empty
Author's archives [missing off-margin words; supplemented as presumed]
... after listening to Clutter talk, I knew there was no safe....[illegible]...back from fixing the phones, we went into Clutter’s bed room. I told him to give me his wallet, which he did. It contained about thirty dollars and some travel checks. I left the wallet lying on the bed. I wanted it to be found empty. My partner found a couple other articles that were likely to be missed, and these he took to the car.
“I left the wallet lying on the bed. I wanted it to be found empty...” (?) “Articles that were likely to be missed...” (?)
The unambiguous actions Hickock describes here are too deliberate to be pointless. In the aggregate, they shape a much different narrative. Despite his flaws, Hickock was a very smart guy; he studied legal reference books for years while on Death Row. He wrote these letters when he was in the process of appealing his conviction. Surely, he knew that the radical differences between his sworn testimony and the events described in the letters could scuttle all hope of an appeal.
Hickock continues, adding more provocative details, further fueling the theory that the murders were carried out with conspired premeditation. He also divulges more about his relationship with the mysterious “Roberts,” confirming an arranged meeting with Roberts for what can only be construed as a payoff [shown before; reinserted here for continuity]:
Figure 42. “... meeting with Roberts about an hour away”
Author's archives [missing off-margin words; supplemented as presumed]
While the family was in the bathroom we continued our search of the house. I looked upstairs, my partner down. We took a portable radio out of the boy’s room upstairs, and put it in the car. We were running short on time, and didn’t look the house over, or tear it up like we should. It was almost two o’clock and our meeting with Roberts was about an hour away. We didn’t want to miss that. Five thousand bucks is a lot of dough.... By this time the family was well convinced that we were just going to rob them. Little did they know what was in store for them.
The identity of “Roberts,” if he did exist, remains for now an unsettled mystery. Hickock could hardly have confused his name with “William Floyd Wells,” whom he well knew (and who was still in prison at the time). If he had only mentioned the name once, we might dismiss it as a mistake. But he has referred to “Roberts” twice now, both in key performance roles—as having provided the map and house diagram, and in an arranged meeting to collect “five thousand bucks.”
And as we now know, Wells could not have drawn that diagram of the new Clutter home.
But someone did. Someone who knew the inside of the home and where each family member slept.
As before, and here with gruesome repugnance, Hickock casually ponders the baffling option of leaving the family alive after killing Mr. Clutter—if only they weren’t witnesses to the crime:
Figure 43. “If we killed the old man and left the rest alive...”
Author's archives [missing off-margin words; supplemented as presumed]
My partner and I, while the family was still in the bathroom, had discussed what should be done. If we killed the old man and left the rest of them alive, we were leaving a bunch of witnesses. So we decided that we would tie them up in separate rooms, and, cut their throats. That way, no member would know what was going on till their throat was cut. There wouldn’t be any ruckus that way. We also had to tie them up, because if we didn’t we would have to shoot them, and one of them might make it out doors. Besides it was too noisey that way, with all the screaming and shooting going on.
Once more, Hickock speaks of Herb Clutter in the singular context of his fate being pre-determined, with separate regard for the rest of the family. The emphasis here isn’t so much on the “if” of Clutter’s demise, but rather on the fact that leaving the body downstairs after the killers fled, with the family able to come down and find it, necessitated tying the others up—in which case the killers would be seen.
And that, he writes, simply “wouldn’t do.”
Figure 44. “... do something with the rest of the family.”
Author's archives [missing off-margin words; supplemented as presumed]
We were going to have to do something about the rest of the family. If we were to cut Clutter’s throat and leave him downstairs, the family would come down as soon as we left and the heat would be on. We had to at least tie them up. But, I thought, they would see us and that wouldn’t do.
The decision made, Hickock describes in chilling detail, and with pathological clarity, his eagerness as the climactic moment approaches. He is frenzied with anticipation to finally prove his worth to those who have misjudged his abilities and accomplishments. Being an excellent student and star athlete wasn’t enough; he “was going to show everybody.”
Then, leaving no room for misinterpretation, Hickock proudly claims “And I’m getting paid for it too.”
Figure 45. Hickock boasts of getting paid for the job
Author's archives [missing off-margin words; supplemented as presumed]
Mr. Clutter was the first to be tied, then the boy, then Mrs. Clutter, and last of all the girl. When I went to the basement with my partner, where Clutter and the boy was tied, I though[t] to myself time is getting close. My heart was pounding and I broke out in a sweat. My hands were trembling with excitement. I was going to show them. I was going to show everybody. All my life I heard I wasn’t ever going to do anything that amounted to much. But wait till they find these people, then they will know. And I’m getting paid for it too.
A word of caution: The next two letter segments may be difficult reading for some. In one, Hickock matter-of-factly describes the disturbed and conflicting emotions facing him as Perry, having just cut Mr. Clutter’s throat, handed the knife to Dick so that he would “feel better;” how Dick was heart-broken and infuriated, even on the verge of tears—because he hadn’t been the one to kill Clutter.
Figure 46. Hickock describes killing Mr. Clutter
––––––––
It was during the time, which I have related to you [Mack Nations], that I hit Clutter, Smith pushed the knife toward me and told me to stick him. At first I didn’t pay any attention to him, because if I remember correctly, and if I am right in stating this, I was really heart broken and infuriated because I wasn’t the one to cut Clutter’s throat. As I look back on the incident and try to remember, I believe I was actually on the verge of tears. Smith then said that I would feel better if I done it. I don’t remember if I grabbed the knife in a rough manner or not, but I think I did. I know I thought there was no use of me doing anything to Clutter, because Smith had already done it. But I walked to the head of Clutter and knelt down behind him. I thought that I should use the knife on Smith, but I raised the knife and drove it into Clutter’s throat. It went in real easy, and it surprised me. I pulled it out and looked at Smith. I noticed he had the shotgun and I knew what was coming next. I told Smith to shoot him. I think I have told you the rest. How I kept from getting any blood on me I don’t know. I did get some on my right hand glove. These gloves were threw away somewhere along the road.
Richard E. Hickock
In the next, he reflects boastfully on how much “fun” the killings were, bizarrely envisioning the same fate for his ex-wife’s parents:
Figure 47. “We were the boss in that house.”
Author's archives [missing off-margin words; supplemented as presumed]
As I think about it now, I realize it was fun. Nobody was telling us what to do. We were boss in that house. It felt good to be able to do as I damn well pleased. No orders no bosses no nothing. I got to thinking how much fun it would be to do this to my in-laws. I heard a lot of guys say they would like to, but they were cowards. It took guts to do what we were doing, but it was so simple I was really surprised.
Their work completed, the killers fled. The Chevy raced out through the long majestic row of Chinese elms lining the road to River Valley Farm. Juggling emotions from resentment to jubilation, Hickock had one thing on his mind:
Figure 48. "I was hungry. Boy was I hungry."
Author's archives
Dr. James Walker, the forensic neuropsychologist, found this particularly revealing:
Hickock’s letters reflect narcissistic characteristics to an extreme. In his presence on that fateful day were terrified, living human beings. Yet there is not a word of empathy for their horrifying experience or their fate. Instead his mind was filled with excitement that he was going to “have the guts” to do what others wouldn’t, and take their lives, followed by disappointment that his partner took the initiative in killing Mr. Clutter before he did. Afterward, his primary thought was apparently finding a meal to eat. His self-absorption was extreme. Whether it was the extreme self-absorption of a pure psychopath, or the disordered mind of a man with severe brain damage incapable of reflection and judgment, cannot be determined with precision at this point.[170]
On June 10, 1964, expecting his appeal before the 10th Circuit Court would be declined, Hickock decided to seek executive clemency from Kansas governor John Anderson, based on his continued assertions that he was not guilty and had nothing to do with the actual killing of the Clutter family; that Perry Smith was fully to blame.
In advance of his application, Hickock was interviewed by Charles D. McAtee, director of Kansas state prisons, who gathered necessary information the governor might need to consider the merits of granting or denying clemency.
When McAtee asked Hickock why he would have allowed Mack Nations to publish such a detailed story about his role in the crimes if, as he was now alleging, he hadn’t participated in them, Hickock gave McAtee a surprising but logical explanation:
I let him write that story to get money to hire a lawyer. I would have let him write anything for that. I wrote two stories, that one—and then one that was the truth. The Attorney General's Office has the one that he published and now they are going to use it against me. I wonder if they have the other story?[171]
Despite its economy of words, the context here is significant and indisputable. Recall that the Kansas attorney general’s office has copies of every letter Hickock wrote that passed through the prison censor’s office.
The first story, which Hickock referred to above as “...that one,” was undoubtedly the basis for Mack Nations’s article that appeared in Male magazine; the one largely consistent with the story most readers know today thanks to In Cold Blood.
But “...and then one that was the truth” can only mean those pages that Nations chose not to include—or perhaps pages he never even received after prison censors read them—among which the most provocative excerpts appear here. Why Nations selected which passages he did for publication remains unknown.
If we are to believe that anything Hickock says here has some basis in truth—and the Kansas attorney general most certainly relied on that assumption in preparation for a possible Supreme Court appeal—then these highly charged excerpts from Hickock’s letters suggest four conclusions: that robbery was not the primary motive of the crime; that Herbert Clutter was the intended target; that the rest of the family’s fate was discretionary; and finally, that money may have changed hands for getting the job done.
This chapter, Privileged Communications, would not be complete without mentioning the existence of information we do not or cannot know about the Clutter murder investigation.
Among other collections, the Kansas Historical Society is the ultimate repository for official government documents, including those from the Kansas state prison system. In the online abstract describing the contents of the Smith and Hickock files available for research, a curious notation appears at the very end:
Restricted: KSA 45-221(a)(29)
Action note: One folder of "Hickock & Smith Correspondence" removed from this series to Governor William H. Avery's records.[172]
Governor Avery’s two-year term started in January 1965, three months before Smith and Hickock were executed. That it contains the entirety of Hickock’s correspondence with Mack Nations is entirely plausible, since all letters passed through the censors and the warden at KSP and on to the attorney general’s office in 1962.
But that would suggest that the Clutter investigation file taken from the KBI by Attorney General Curt Schneider in 1974 contains something more—information that authorities beyond the KBI still felt would be too “unprotected” even to remain in the bureau’s custody.
What sort of information is so sensitive as to merit such exceptional security measures over half a century after the crime?
ACCESS TO EVIDENCE ROOM 🔐
As an exclusive bonus to readers of this book, you are invited to access the confidential Evidence Room, where you’ll find a curated selection of original pages from the Nye notebooks, official investigation reports, Richard Hickock’s Death Row letters to Mack Nations, select crime scene photos, and a reimagined map of the killers’ journey based on the new information revealed here. Access the Evidence Room and register as an authorized user at:
www.garymcavoy.com/evidence-room/.
Once you have registered and created your personal password, login to the Evidence Room using this secret password: StreckfusPersons (case sensitive). Please do not share or post this password. Access to exclusive content is governed by the restrictive terms and conditions posted on the website.
