The Bundy Murders: A Comprehensive History (36 page)

On March 11, Bundy agreed to meet with the Colorado investigators. It was pushing late afternoon when Detective Mike Fisher from the District Attorney's Office and Detective William Baldridge from the Pitkin County Sheriff's Office sat down with the incarcerated law student and his attorney, John O'Connell, in an interview room in the Salt Lake City Jail. As could be expected, O'Connell was against this meeting from the beginning, but Bundy wanted to do it. Fisher, of course, was pleased Bundy had consented to the interview. Counselor O'Connell, somewhat combative from the start, complained that they didn't want to answer questions without knowing the reasons behind them; a valid request, as he didn't want his client completely in the dark as to the intent of the meeting.

Mr. Bundy has been subjected to these Kafka-type interrogations before, and, uh, they can lead to confusion. Uh, I think that it ought to start out with, uh, you telling us something about what you're investigating. You start throwing questions out and we don't know what's significant and what isn't.... When Mr. Forbes first interrogated Mr. Bundy, he was asking questions, apparently from all over the United States, and, uh, at kind of random, uh, it's just a little difficult to figure out what's ... important and give it some thought to throw off a cop attack.'s

Mike Fisher wasted no time bringing O'Connell out of the information black hole by saying he was interested in was the murder of Caryn Campbell on January 12, 1975, "near Aspen." "Now that's specifically what we're going to be talking to Mr. Bundy about now."" What Fisher had just accomplished was setting the tone of the meeting from the beginning, and it placed Bundy squarely on the defensive. The following exchange is taken directly from the transcript of that March 11 interrogation.

Q: All right. Ted, do you recall, uh, January of 1975?

A: Not with any specificity.

Q: Do you recall ... where you were on or about January tenth, 1975? That would have been a Friday?

A: No, I do not. I mean I've been so, I really can't remember I think would be a more accurate statement. I have no records, I have no records before me, no diary, no other means of getting hold of that date or that period.

Q: Ok, during January, 1975, Ted, were you ever in the state of Colorado?

A: Possible. Um - it's, it's possible. Uh, I can't say for sure, ok?

Q: If you were in the state of Colorado, do you know where you would have been?

A: Uh, in the general Rocky Mountain area, you know, like I don't know, recall names of the routes or the cities, uh, I don't know the area that well to say for sure.

Q: Ok. Prior to January of 1975 -

A: I don't think, if you tell him, as I understand it, uh, you got, uh, you got a gas record of some place during that period there, and maybe if you would give it to us that would help.

Q: Well, I'm gonna tell, I'm gonna show you a gas record here of, uh, it's dated January 12, 1975, and, uh, have you look at that. That's from a gas station in Glenwood Springs, Colorado.

After feigning ignorance about the location of Glenwood Springs, Bundy asks for a map of Colorado and within moments is shown the signed gas receipt from the station in question.

Q: Do you recall making that purchase, Ted?

A: Well, not specifically. It appears to be my signature and, uh, and I certainly wouldn't deny it's my signature if you asked me, but I don't remember making that purchase.

For the next ten or so minutes, Bundy is evasive as to when (he mentions the trip in 1969) and where he visited the state, but as Fisher pressed him once again about the signatures on the gas receipts, he understood the investigator was boxing him into a corner. Inevitably, he would have to acknowledge being in Colorado in 1975.

Q: Now you say the signature on the gas credit card looks like yours?

A: That looks like mine.

Q: It could be your signature.

A: It probably is. I mean, I, my card was not stolen or missing during that period, and I did use my credit card during that period on a trip through that I may have taken to Colorado.

Things were quickly becoming uncomfortable for Bundy and he kept saying that he couldn't remember where he was or even what he did while there. When asked why he made the trip at all, Bundy attributed it to the pressures of the law exams, as well as his desire just to be out driving.

Q: Uh, when you take a trip like this, you know, tension from the exams, right?

A: Well, yeah, I guess, did sort of need to get away from Salt Lake City, and, uh, any kind of drive, and think, I wasn't really concerned with where I was going, as place or paying a lot of attention to just where I was going or what cities I passed, or, I had no objective place in mind.

Fisher must have been inwardly smiling at the spectacle before him. He knew he was talking to the killer of Caryn Campbell, and Theodore Bundy's feeble attempts to run away from each and every question were only helping to build a case against him. Within minutes of this last exchange, Detective Fisher would zero in on his suspect:

Q: On January the 12th, 1975, did you kill that young lady up there near Snowmass-at-Aspen, Colorado?

A: I certainly didn't kill anyone anywhere, and I, wherever it was, I didn't kill anyone.

Q: But you don't recall any of the occurrences that happened on that trip, I mean -

A: Well, yeah, of course, I wasn't paying a great deal; of attention to specific places or signposts or mileage traveling, uh, but one thing you would, remember, I mean [laugh], it's certainly almost, I won't say that it's, it's, unfortunately it concerns you very much, but if you, if you meet someone, you'd remember, especially if you start up a relationship with them, that was not my intention, nor did I do that. Uh, and as far as the question, did I kill anyone, I certainly didn't. It sounds absurd to say so, but you'll remember if you've done something like that, I certainly didn't.

Detective Michael J. Fisher had no intention of easing the pressure on Theodore Bundy in the weeks and months to come. The Colorado authorities were about to enter into an entirely new phase of the investigation. While Bundy steadfastly maintained his innocence within the confines of Point-ofthe-Mountain prison, Investigator Fisher had plans to delve even deeper into the life of this articulate murderer, and to do so he needed to travel to Utah. It was time to discover what Fisher and company referred to as "similar transactions."

This aspect of the investigation would be nothing less than exhausting for the detective, both physically and emotionally. Yet his inner drive to see "Theodore" (Fisher always referred to him in this manner) convicted of the murder of Caryn Campbell (and those of Denise Oliverson and Julie Cunningham, if possible) meant that regardless of how difficult the road to a conviction might be, he was willing to pay the price. Such determination did not bode well for Bundy. Yet sitting in his cell, writing letters to his supporters and the press as he adjusted to his role as a wrongly convicted martyr, he had no idea how tough and determined an opponent he had in the Colorado lawman. But he would, over time, come understand it very clearly.

Deputy District Attorney Milton K. Blakey was the person responsible for prosecuting the case against Bundy. On loan from the Colorado Springs office, Blakey was now sequestered in Aspen to work closely with Fisher in building a case. When Blakey was informed about the similarities between their cases and the abductions and murders in Utah, he wanted those homicides fully investigated to see whether they would be admissible in court under the similar transactions clause. While this hunt for "similar transactions" would not occur for a number of months, Blakey knew Fisher's lightning trip with the killer's car had turned up previously undiscovered evidence, and he hoped Fisher would discover more in Utah. Fisher recalled in February 2, 2008, e-mail: "These trips were made during the winter months, the drives were long, and the stays got longer and longer. I would come home [after being in Utah all week] do my laundry, pack again, and be on my way by Sunday evenings. Only court interrupted that schedule. Blakey and his assistant George Vahsholtz accompanied me on a couple of occasions. George did most of the work at the District Attorney's office with [then] D.D.A. Dave Yocom."

Through countless interviews Fisher would learn much about the murders in Utah, the victims and their families, and those who knew them. Once again, the veteran detective was proving that thoroughness made the difference when it came to murder. Every lead must be followed up or precious bits of evidence would be lost forever, and answers would remain hidden, benefiting the killer. Only true investigative persistence would bring to light what Fisher needed and he understood this. He was also fully aware that he was treading on ground previously covered by his Utah brethren, and any new discovery would need to be handled with tact so as not to offend them. Mike Fisher completed his mission without any complications.

On March 30, Theodore Bundy was again standing before Judge Hanson, who was about to inform the convicted man just how much time he was going to be spending in prison. Although Bundy had murdered over thirty women, sending each into eternity in the most nightmarish of ways, he had trouble maintaining his composure before Hansen. In a tearful plea lasting almost an hour, Bundy spoke of the injustice that was occurring, as he continued to plead his innocence. He should have known that every tearful word he uttered was falling on deaf ears. After the display of emotion was over, Judge Hanson sentenced him to serve one to fifteen years in Utah's state prison.

In October 1976, Mike Fisher watched Judge George Lohr sign an arrest warrant for Theodore Bundy for the murder of Caryn Campbell. Within a very short time, Fisher and crew would be personally escorting Bundy to Colorado to stand trial for the murder. There must have been a great sense of satisfaction for the detective who had worked for so long to accomplish what at times seemed an impossible task.

When the Colorado authorities came to get Bundy that cold, early Friday morning of January 28, 1977 (Fisher said they took custody of their prisoner between 3:30 and 4:00 A.M.), he was a little surprised. He knew the transfer was coming, but being hauled out of bed around 2 A.M. was a bit unsettling. Bundy couldn't have known it, but Fisher's unannounced visit at such an odd hour was for his own safety. "The reason we were so secretive about our plan," the detective recalled, "was to avoid a family member of the victim's electing to inflict a little early justice [by] intercepting us.""

In the cold Utah air, the cuffed and shackled Bundy was placed in the back seat of the unmarked police car, directly behind Undersheriff Ben Meyers, who had taken his place in the passenger seat. Investigator Fisher sat next to Bundy and directly behind the driver, Deputy Rick Kralicek. Within minutes they reached 1-15, heading south. It must have been a surreal moment for Bundy, driving the same highway he had used so often to search for victims, or to transport the dead or nearly dead. As they entered the small community of Spanish Fork, Kralicek exited 1-15 and took highway 6. They continued driving until they pulled off at Price, Utah, where the four men stopped to have breakfast at a mom-and-pop diner. Fisher said Bundy, who had refused to talk in the car, remained quiet throughout the meal, but would periodically look over at him and at the others. Indeed, as Detective Fisher explained to the author, his prisoner was fearful from the moment he was placed in their custody until he was delivered to his new cell in Colorado. It is Mike Fisher's belief that Bundy was concerned that the three lawmen, while traveling those lonely roads under the cover of darkness, might just decide to play judge, jury and executioner all at the same time. When they reached Green River, Utah, Kralicek shot up the entrance ramp of 1-70 heading east, and with a firm grip on the wheel and an increasingly steady pressure on the gas pedal, was determined to make up for time lost on the slower Highway 6.

Bundy began to manifest outwardly a degree of that inner fear. As retired Detective Fisher remembered it: "He was very scared during the ride, one of the highlights was when a car came rolling up behind us when we were pushing 100 + mph, and we called it in to the CSP [Colorado State Patrol] ... a CSP trooper was in the area at the state line at our request and he tagged the guy at 100 + mph." Prior to the Colorado trooper stopping the speeder, however, Fisher glanced over at Bundy who, he said, "kept slinking down to the floor. That little bastard was very afraid of dying, but his level of fear was never as high as those unfortunate and brutalized victims.""

As the unmarked cruiser crossed the Colorado state line, the sun was spreading its light all around. As they came to the outskirts of Grand Junction, where Fisher knew Bundy had grabbed and murdered Denise Oliverson, he asked Bundy if anything looked familiar to him. Bundy, no doubt picking up on the investigator's veiled sarcasm, spoke only of his "discretion" not to speak, and apparently rambled on along these lines for a moment or two.'9

Despite his deeply held fear that he might be on his last ride, Bundy was delivered safely to the jailers at the Pitkin County Courthouse in beautiful Aspen, Colorado. Bundy had been in Aspen before, but never like this. Still, he immediately began calculating his advantages. First and foremost was the age of the building in which he was being housed. This killer of women was being confined in a nearly century-old jail better suited to its regular traffic of drunks, bad check writers, and others whose crimes paled next to those of Theodore Bundy. Given his background, it is hard to believe the authorities couldn't see the unbelievable disaster that was even then forming on the horizon. Although Bundy was pleased with the outdated and archaic design of the building, he couldn't have known how easily the authorities would be fooled by the mask.

No sooner had Bundy arrived at his new home than he began pouring on the charm. Despite the seriousness of the charges against him, it was difficult for people not to like him. Women began remarking how handsome he was. The jailers relaxed once he demonstrated he was easy-going and, well, gentlemanly in his demeanor. Not only was he not your typical accused murderer, he was not your typical inmate either. He would be assisting in his own defense and would be granted favors by Judge George Lohr upon request, which gave Bundy a sense of legitimacy he otherwise wouldn't have had. His case may have offered the oddest set of circumstances the old courthouse had ever witnessed.