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The Happy Face Murderer – Keith Hunter Jesperson –9. Susanne

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发表于 2022-8-15 07:48:02 | 显示全部楼层 |阅读模式

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Susanne
In the six months following the murder of the woman known as Cindy, Keith Jesperson avoided killing. By the time 1993 reached the autumn months, however, the feeling and the urge to kill was again creeping up in Keith's mind. At this point, he confessed his actions to a friend, seeking advice on how to stop murdering women. But the friend, after dismissing the subject as a joke, soon didn't want to talk about it anymore. He advised Keith to see a psychologist and ceased to take part in the conversation. Keith lost a potential outlet on his murderous urges.

Fast forward a few months later, and Keith was sitting in a truck stop in Oregon, drinking coffee and watching the world go by. As he sat and watched, a short blonde woman entered the room. The woman sat down in front of Keith, facing away from him in the next booth. Speaking out loud, Keith said that she had a back he would like to rub. The girl laughed and welcomed him over to the table.

She said her name was Julie, Julie Winningham. Struck by Keith's six foot six frame, she wondered where exactly he'd come from. The two spent the next couple of hours chatting and discovered they were very much attuned to one another's sensibilities. Feeling she was a few classes of respectability above most of the women he met in truck stops, Keith invited her along on his trip and promised that there would be no funny business. It was totally down to her, he assured, her choice entirely. She was given free rein to fall in love with him, but it would always be her decision. Julie accepted the invitation, left a little note in her car window assuring any readers that she'd be away for a while and then hopped into the cabin.

Their first stop was Seattle, after which they headed to Yakima. Everywhere they went, people seemed to love Julie. Keith's friends along his regular routes all commented on the short blonde woman he had in tow. The next stop involved hauling potatoes to Irvine, California. Starting Friday night, they had to be there by Sunday morning. Keith decided to drive all night and made it just after midnight on the Saturday. This gave the pair of them a free day, which they spent at a fairground. Keith even bought Julie a necklace and a bracelet. The only bone of contention reared its head when Julie seemed annoyed that her new friend swore off drugs of any type.

Regardless, they spent the night partying together and wound up having sex in Keith's truck, though he confessed that it wasn't the best or most exciting intimate experience he'd ever had. After spending money on jewelry and a night out, he had hoped for a bit more effort on her part. A quick trip to the phone booth to check in with his employers meant that Keith left Julie alone in the truck. By the time he got back, he discovered that she was trying to use the CB radio to try and pick up drugs.

The couple settled into more romantic concerns before Julie asked Keith whether he'd like to marry her. Unknown to the trucker at the time, she was on the lookout for someone to take good care of her, and it seemed as though Keith fit the bill. He agreed, and despite lambasting her for trying to score drugs over the radio, ventured out to buy some marijuana from one of the other drivers at the truck stop. The two spent a few more nights together before Keith drove her back to the place where she had left her car, and the two parted ways.

After that, it became a regular feature of Keith's trips that he would call in and see Julie whenever he passed. She ended up renting a room with his friends, Ginny and Billy Smith. The arrangement worked for almost twelve months before Keith grew suspicious of both Billy and Julie's intentions. While he suspected his friend of being attracted to his girl, he suspected Julie of simply using him for a ride, for cash, and for drugs. He decided to ditch her after almost a year of dating. In Keith's opinion, she was more in love with marijuana than him.

Just after he dumped Julie, Keith came across an article detailing the case of the two "barflies" who had been convicted of the murder of Taunja Bennett. It annoyed him. The messages he had left scrawled on the restroom walls had failed to have any kind of impact. To rectify this and take back a bit of credit, Keith decided to write a note to the Washington County Courthouse. The note detailed not only where the body had been placed, but the exact wounds, the way she had been tied, where the Walkman and the purse had been thrown away, the buttons cut off from the jeans, and the position she had been left in after he had raped her. Again, he signed the note with a smiley face. In the weeks afterwards, there was no mention in the papers. While his instinct told him to leave the matter alone, Keith couldn't help remain curious about what was happening behind the scenes.

In April of 1994, he wrote another note. It had been four years since the first murder. This note contained a first page with the same old Happy Face logo emblazoned across the front. Rather than sending it to the authorities, however, Keith decided that he might get better results by sending it to the press. As well as Taunja, the note explained how he had killed the girl, as well as hinting as to why he might have done it, and that she was not his only victim. This note failed as well, so a follow-up letter was composed and delivered to the same paper. This time, he talked of his latest murder, as well as his life as a long haul trucker. The note informed people of where the body had been left and just how easy it was to get away with all of these killings. There was even a hint that the writer of the note wanted to stop the murders but just didn't know how. Signing off with confirmation that he was the same man who had sent the last letter, he warned the reader to "check over your shoulder."

At the bottom of each communication, whether it was on the wall of a restroom or the blue paper Keith used to send to the newspaper, he always left a signature Happy Face logo. During this period, Keith was desperate to know what was going on inside his own head. He began to read through a lot of magazines and books on the subject of serial killers. On one occasion, on opening a magazine dedicated to the subject, he found an article asking whether there was another serial killer on the loose in Oregon. It was about him. Finally seeing his deeds in print, Keith wrote in to the magazine and corrected a few points in their article. He even revealed where they might find another body. But there was never a follow-up piece in the publication.

The library was a great source for books on psychology. One such book, written by a former FBI man, gave the childhood warning signs for a serial killer as three-fold. Typically, they would wet their beds, torture animals, and start fires. To Keith's mind, he filled two out of three categories. Accordingly, he wondered whether setting fires out in the wilderness might satiate the urge to kill. He would start fires and then retreat to a safe distant, from which he could watch as the police and fire brigade struggled to deal with the raging inferno in the dry undergrowth. This worked for a while. Keith thought it might even have saved a few lives. Oregon, Washington, California, Arizona, and Nevada were all victims of his arson attacks at one time or another. It was enough to put off murder for almost a year.

The change came near the end of 1994. Keith Jesperson was driving truckloads of aluminum coils to Florida. After dropping off the delivery, he noticed a blonde woman strolling around a store. She reminded him of Taunja, especially in her slightly Slavic features. The girl was looking for a lift north, and Keith offered up his truck. She gave her name as Susanne.

Susanne was somewhere around thirty years old and carried tarot cards with her. She might have been a fortune-teller, Keith thought. The girl hopped in his truck, and the two were set to drive off. Just before they left, she wondered whether they might stop past Miami along the way to Keith's stop in Georgia. The trucker refused, as it would involve a 400 mile trip out of his way. He refused, but she didn't mind. Susanne just wanted to get out of Florida.

The trip was going according to plan, including stops to eat spaghetti in diners, reloading the truck, and setting off back towards the northwest. Susanne even agreed to sleep in the bunk, provided that they both remain dressed for the entire time. Keith agreed, and they drove until three in the morning, when he had to pull over to sleep. There were a few cop cars out front, and the only parking space was next to the lot's security guard. Keith parked there anyway. He climbed into bed with her, fully clothed, and began to fall asleep. As it seemed, choking, rape, and murder were far from his mind.

But the conditions inside the cabin were hot. The air conditioner was broken, and this caused Keith to wake up in the middle of the night sweating. He needed to open a window, anything to deal with the temperature that was getting close to ninety degrees. Turning on the light inside the truck, he couldn't help but notice the shape of his companion's body as she lay in bed. He couldn't help but take off his clothes and slide in right next to her.

Susanne began to stir, and when she was finally awake and realized what was happening, let out a piercing scream. Keith threw the palm of his hand over her mouth. As she struggled, he desperately tried to think how he might explain this to the security guards or the police. Whatever it was this girl told the police, it seemed that every eventuality ended up in Keith losing his job. Riders were strictly forbidden, rapists even more so.

The girl pleaded to be let go, assuring Keith that she wouldn't tell anyone what had happened. Apologizing, he assured her that she only needed to do as he asked. His first request was that she have sex with him, as though they "were lovers." Susanne saw no way out other than to play along. After a few hours together, she seemed relaxed enough to fall asleep ,but Keith was concerned that she might be faking. Becoming aroused again, he lifted her skirt and tried to force his way inside the sleeping girl. Once again, she screamed. This time, he choked her to death.

While the body was still warm, Keith drove away from the truck stop. He hid her body in some bushes along the side of the road. This time, he took the care to tie some lengths of nylon rope around the girl's neck, a calling card should he even need to prove that the murder had been his. Back in the truck, he drove as fast as he could towards the next weigh station, desperate to be noted in the official books as far away from there as possible.

As far as the records went, it seemed like he had never been near the area at all. Once again, Keith Jesperson seemed to have gotten away with murder.

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