The Ivy League Killer (3 page)

Chapter 7: Home Ground

Officials believed that the two missing girls had run away. Malchik wasn’t so sure. They were from the same general area as Tammy and Robin. He looked at every single fact he had about the cases to see if he’d missed anything, but nothing stood out. Then he went over everything again. People had seen the girls hitchhiking, but no one had seen who’d picked them up. They’d just vanished. Until they turned up or their bodies were found, Malchik could do nothing but wait. Unfortunately, he didn’t have to wait long.

Wendy Baribeault was on her way to a convenience store. On the afternoon of June 13, 1984, the 17-year-old walked along Highway 12 in Lisbon, Connecticut, doing what many teenagers do on a hot summer day: She wanted to buy a cold drink or some ice cream. However, she did not reach the store and did not return home. There was no reason to suspect she had run away, but no one knew where she could have gone.

To Malchik, it seemed impossible that no one had seen whoever had abducted her. A lot of people traveled that road. He sent officers out to question area residents and also made a public appeal for information about the girl: she was 5 feet 2 inches tall and 103 pounds, with dark hair. The police set up roadblocks to stop commuters to ask if anyone who traveled this road on Wednesday afternoon had seen her. Their efforts paid off. For the first time since the disappearances had started, there were witnesses. A man and his wife had seen a small blue car on that road around that time. A guy on a motorcycle had also seen a compact blue car, but it had been parked on the side of the road. He’d seen a dark-haired white male wearing a short-sleeved white shirt and dark pants walking fast behind the girl.

The police soon received a report that provided a solid lead. A motorist had seen a thin white man driving a late-model blue Datsun. He’d stopped his car, got out, and followed a girl on Highway 12. The driver had been talking with her. From the various stories, a police artist made a composite sketch while investigators acquired a computer list from the Department of Motor Vehicles of all the late-model blue Datsuns registered in the local area.

Wendy Baribeault
Victim

With about 150 volunteers, police also conducted an extensive search throughout the area where Wendy had last been seen. They went through the woods and fields. It took two days, but a volunteer firefighter found a mostly nude female body stuffed inside a stone wall, just 100 feet from the road. It was Wendy. The person who had killed her had carefully removed several large stones from the wall, shoved her inside, and replaced the stones to make the wall appear undisturbed.

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Chapter 8: Mystery Man

Wendy had been sexually molested. Malchik believed a rape-murder like this had to be the behavior of a local man who regularly commuted on this road. He’d seen an opportunity, as risky as it was, and he’d jumped at it. It was difficult to find the owner of a blue Datsun who fit the description. Malchik decided they should interview the witnesses once more to see if someone remembered a small detail not yet explored, or recalled something that had not been reported.

It turned out that the witness who’d described the blue Datsun had changed his mind. It was a Toyota, he believed, not a Datsun. He’d called the state police to let them know, but the message had not been relayed to Malchik. His team had to start over with another list, but at least there was hope that this time they’d get what they needed.

The list of local owners of blue Toyotas was depressingly long—about 3,600 names. They narrowed it down to white male drivers in a specific age range: 20s and 30s. Then Malchik prepared to start knocking on doors. He selected the names and addresses of four men who lived closest to where the body had been found.

The first Toyota owner on the list was Michael Bruce Ross. Malchik recalled that a Dan Ross, who owned the chicken farm, had been questioned in the Debra Williams case, but Ross hadn’t mentioned having a son. Still, Malchik knew that Ross was a common name. It might mean nothing.

Malchik stopped by Ross’ apartment on North Main in Jewett City on June 27, around 5 PM. No one was home. He noticed a card on the front door that identified Ross as an insurance agent for Prudential. This indicated that he traveled, at least around the area. Malchik returned the next morning at 8 AM. He knocked, and a young man with dark hair, wearing glasses, opened the door. Except for the glasses, he fit the basic description. Malchik showed his ID and explained that he needed to ask a few questions. This did not fluster Ross. In fact, he was quite friendly. He invited Malchik in. He was still in his robe, but he offered to make coffee. He invited the detective into the living room, which was fairly messy, and offered an excuse about how busy he was.

Michael Ross
Mug Shot

Malchik watched him and thought to himself, “This isn’t the guy. He’s acting too normal.”

Ross mentioned that he had expected a call because he’d read that the police were looking for a driver in a blue Toyota and, well,
he
had a blue Toyota. In fact, he’d read Malchik’s name in the paper and was aware of his status in the investigation. Ross also mentioned that he’d gone to Cornell, and they talked a bit about the campus and his classes there in agriculture. He said that he’d had a fiancée there, but they’d broken up. His aspiration was to eventually take over his father’s egg farm.

Malchik asked several routine questions, figuring that he’d leave soon to check out the next man on his list. Among his questions was, “Have you ever been arrested?” He expected the typical, “No, never.”

Ross surprised him. “You’ll find out, anyway,” he said evenly, “so I guess I should just tell you.” He’d been arrested twice for assault.

“What kind of assault?”

“The regular kind.”

Ross admitted in a matter-of-fact tone that it had involved women. He’d been arrested while attempting to assault a girl in Illinois while on a business trip and had received probation. The other victim had been a pregnant policewoman. He’d served a light sentence for that one.

Malchik froze. Things were falling into place. He knew this could be the guy,
right here in front of him
. The very first person he’d picked out to question. What were the chances? But Ross’ father owned an egg farm, and Dan
Ross
, the owner of a local egg farm, had dumped fertilizer in the field where a killer had left Debra Taylor’s body. This guy, who seemed so confident and friendly, had a dark side. He was a sexual predator who
had
to know that sexual assaults on his record would make him a key suspect in a sexual murder so close to his home.

Bells were ringing, but Malchik knew he’d have to be careful. He couldn’t quite figure out why Ross was so forthcoming. If he were a killer—perhaps even a serial killer—he should be lying and trying to hide his record. Was he setting up a trap? Perhaps he wanted to make them think he’d killed Wendy when he hadn’t. That happened sometimes. Kooks popped out of the woodwork in every murder case, especially those that get publicity.

Malchik decided to play his best card. “Where were you,” he asked, “on June 13, around 4:30 PM?”

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Chapter 9: Vindicated

Ross wasn’t a bit flustered. He spun off the details of his June 13 schedule as if he’d rehearsed them. He’d gotten up, eaten breakfast, and gone to work. He’d had lunch with a coworker and went to out to Route 12 to pick up supplies. He was supposed to meet someone for coffee at 4 PM.

Then he stalled. The words didn’t come.

He’d been so meticulous, so organized, and suddenly, he couldn’t remember what he’d done during the latter part of that day, at exactly the time that witnesses had seen a man who looked like him following Wendy Baribeault. The odds were stacked against it being a random coincidence.

Malchik considered his options. He knew it was possible that Ross wanted to be caught. Maybe he wanted to stop, or maybe he just wanted credit for these terrible crimes. “Would you mind coming down to the station to answer a few more questions?” he asked.

“Not at all,” Ross told him. He was laying himself out, throat bare.

Malchik alerted his partner, Frank Griffin, who joined them at the temporary command post set up in the Lisbon town hall. There they conducted an intense interview that ran for several hours as Ross described the sexual assaults in Ohio and Illinois. At one point, he mentioned that while serving his sentence, he had been treated for mental health issues. Then he stuck his neck out, feeling his way.

Lisbon, CT Historic Plaque
CTLiving.com

“If someone were to go back under the care of a psychologist in a situation such as the death of Wendy Baribeault,” he asked, “is there a chance he wouldn’t be arrested?”

This guy was too smart, Malchik knew, to be ignorant on that score. “No,” he said. “That isn’t possible.” Feeling certain they had their suspect and that he’d soon confess, Malchik wondered what Ross was leading him into.

“Do you think I killed her?” Ross asked.

Malchik wasn’t sure, but he knew it was best to offer a challenge. He looked Ross straight in the eye and nodded. “Yeah, I do. And I think you’ll keep killing, and that has to stop.”

Ross nodded. “You’re right,” he said. “I killed Wendy Baribeault.”

The detectives were quick to apprise him of his rights, hoping he’d confess again rather than lawyer up. They weren’t about to blow this case over a technicality. They were fairly sure that Ross had killed more girls, and with the ease of his confession, they figured he’d continue.

“Do you wish to waive your right to silence and to an attorney?” Malchik asked.

“I do,” Ross assured him.

“Will you repeat what you just said on tape?”

Ross agreed, and did so. He said everything in just the same way, never hesitating or showing second thoughts. A colleague had called in sick that afternoon, he stated, leaving Ross free to go home early. He saw Wendy walking along the side of the road. He’d stopped his car and come up on her quickly from behind. She screamed and tried to fight him, but he told her he would hurt her if she didn’t stop. Then he pulled her over the stone wall to shield his activity from the road before raping and strangling her.

Malchik asked him where he had lived before moving to Jewett City. He was thinking of the other missing girls.

“Brooklyn,” Ross responded. The right answer.

As Malchik had expected, Ross admitted to his involvement in more murders. In about five seconds, he rattled off the names of the other local girls he’d killed: Tammy Williams, Robin Stavinsky, April Bruneis, and Leslie Shelley. (Ross later claimed that Malchik and Griffin had tricked him by telling him that he would be treated at a psychiatric hospital in exchange for his confession, but Malchik recalls that Ross had needed no incentives. He’d talked easily and in detail about his crimes, as if he were bragging.)

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Chapter 10: Chilling Confession

Malchik was stunned, and also relieved, but he continued to listen noncommittally. Ross admitted that killing these girls had made his heart pound. It had been exhilarating. “They were dead as soon as I saw them,” he stated. Once the excitement subsided, he’d become aware that his hands hurt. It wasn’t easy to strangle someone, he said, and a couple of the girls had been very strong. “It’s not like they show you on TV.” He’d had to relax and change the position of his grip a few times because his hands had cramped.

He’d learned this technique as a kid, because it had been his job on the farm to strangle the weak or sick chickens. His hands always ached after a murder, but he hadn’t minded much. The pain, he said, had reminded him of what he’d done. However, he admitted that he had always experienced fear over being discovered.

“Each time I killed,” he said, “I made myself believe I wouldn’t kill again.” He’d enjoyed the thrill of following them, knowing he could overpower them. It had been too difficult to stop.

When he’d killed Wendy, Ross explained, he knew it was risky, but the opportunity had seemed too good to pass up. After the murder, he’d taken the time to hide her behind the rocks in the wall to make it appear as if it hadn’t been disturbed. This murder had been quite close to where he lived and the commuter highway had been busy. That time, he’d feared, he’d really made a mistake.

“I don’t believe I was in control,” Ross said later. “After she was dead, I didn’t feel anything, but it was like watching an old film.” He was present, but also absent.

Ross blamed his relationships. After things went sour with one woman, he killed four women. Then another relationship went bad and he killed four more. He realized that he couldn’t hurt the woman he loved, so he targeted a stand-in. He could not recall what a victim looked like until he later saw her picture in a newspaper.

Ross agreed to go with the detectives to the site where he’d killed Wendy. Late that afternoon, they went out to the stone wall. Ross pointed out where he’d parked his car when he’d seen Wendy, and said he’d removed his glasses to avoid getting them damaged when she struggled. He showed detectives where he’d followed her on the road, how he’d dragged her behind the wall to rape, and how he’d strangled her. He’d been quite successful at not getting caught, and he’d expected his luck to hold.

Back in his apartment, investigators found newspapers in Ross’ bathroom that featured stories about Wendy and the other missing women. It was one more piece of incriminating evidence.

Malchik was relieved to be closing these cases, but angry that he’d been thwarted from following his original instinct after Debra Taylor’s disappearance. Timely investigation with a focused task force might have saved three lives, not to mention preventing several assaults. Still, he needed to find their remains.

Ross showed the detectives where he’d hidden the bodies of April and Leslie in a culvert near Preston. Their skeletal forms were under a pile of branches. Ross also described where to find Tammy Williams’ body, which they removed from underneath thick brush in a swamp just off the road on which she’d last been seen. The last stop was a river, where Ross pointed out the spot from which he’d thrown Wendy’s clothes, wrapped around a rock. Malchik organized a team of divers to find them. They pulled up a bag with Wendy’s underwear, shorts, shirt, and shoes.

Map Where Victims Found

In addition to the local assaults, Ross admitted to an attempted murder in North Carolina during the prior year. He did not know who she was. He offered nothing more at this point, although Malchik suspected that Ross had kept some things to himself. He was certain that Debra Taylor was also Ross’ victim. However, for the moment, he had his hands full with the five murders to which Ross had just confessed.

On June 29, 1984, police took Ross into custody. Arraigned the next day, he was charged with capital felony murder in the slaying of Wendy Baribeault. Judge Francis McDonald ordered that he be held without bond in the Montville Correctional Center, setting his next court appearance two weeks later, on July 16.

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