EP. 224- SERIAL KILLER: The PHANTOM Killer, The MOONLIGHT MURDERS & The Town That Dreaded Sundown

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BJ's Home of the Save. Warning, the following podcast is not suitable for all audiences. We go into great detail with every case that we cover and do our best to bring viewers even deeper into the stories by utilizing disturbing audio and sound effects. Trigger warnings from the stories we cover may include violence, rape, murder, and offenses against children. This podcast is not for everyone. You have been warned. A cold February wind blows across the night plains of 1940s Texarkana. It's late, but the car you're in is warm. The half moon is rising, and your lover is holding your hand. The lover's lane you two have parked on is not far from the edge of the city, a city where everyone seems to know your business. But this lover's lane is the best seclusion you can get. One of the few times where not everyone is privy to your conversations. It's a moment of peace. And a moment where intimacy can finally be felt. And a moment where intimacy can finally occur uninterrupted. In 1946, this was a high school daydream. Yet now, it's the beginning of a horror story. As the night draws on, you begin talking about your plans after high school. But a sudden noise in the dark ends the conversation before it can begin. Your lover pulls on their jacket, tells you to stay in the car, and steps out to take a look. It could just be an animal. Or perhaps. Nosey parents. Yet your blood is running cold as the wind outside. You wait in silence, your car radio buzzing. A song plays. Then two. And before you know it, your lover has been gone longer than expected. Worry draws you from the passenger seat and out into the night. The wind bites at your ears and nose as you search for any sign of them. But then, suddenly, a figure emerges. A shape of a man. A shape darker than the night around it. Relief takes hold for only a moment as the shape draws closer. But then you realize that it's not your lover. It's a stranger. And over his head is a white sack. In his hand is a gun. And on his clothing are spatters of blood. This is not simply a horror story for the people of Texarkana in 1946. This was their reality. Over the course of a few months, this man would take the lives of five people. And to this day, we still have no idea who he was. So this is the story of the Texarkana Moonlight Murders. I'm Courtney Browen. And I'm Colin Browen. And you're listening to Murder in America. In Arkansas, it's a city where there are two of everything. Two school districts often see each other as rivals during football season. Two city governments work together to keep the city running smoothly. And two police departments ensure that everyone stays safe. Located in the greater four-state area, the borders of Oklahoma and Louisiana aren't far off either, making Texarkana a significant transportation hub. The name Texarkana comes from Tex for Texas, Ark for Arkansas, and Anna for Louisiana. The city has been called the gateway to the east, as well as Little Chicago due to the massive number of travelers who pass through. Once, it was a smaller town. But as World War II began, industry expanded rapidly. With this major emergence of commerce came jobs. And with jobs came people. By 1946, the city was still growing. And it was a time of relative peace. World War II had just ended with Germany's surrender. And the Cold War would not begin until the following year in 1947. Now, despite the city's fair share of crime, Texarkana was generally considered a good place to live. Most of Texarkana's population lived blissfully unaware of the town's seedy underbelly that operated right under their very noses. They believed it was the ideal American city. High school football, hot dogs, and white picket fences. Like many cities in America, even today, these privileged citizens believe that if they minded their own business, and stayed away from the more dangerous parts of town, they would be safe. To many of the privileged, serious crime was something that happened elsewhere. It was an unfortunate reality confined to the rougher parts of town. Around this time, danger was beginning to creep closer to home. And one of these was a serial murderer. Now, the term serial killer would not be coined in America until the 1970s. Even though a word similar existed in Germany, since the 1930s. But the notion that a person could kill again and again without reason or remorse lay far beyond the public imagination. To most Americans, such evil seemed impossible. Something born in fiction. But this ignorance would be shattered in the coming months, as winter gave way to spring. In February of 1946, as Valentine's Day came, and the promise of warmer days ahead drew people outdoors, Texarkana. met its phantom. On the evening of February 22nd, 25-year-old Jimmy Hollis, an insurance agent, and 19-year-old Mary Jean LeRae, formerly known as Mary Jean Harris, were out on a date. Both were previously divorced. Jimmy and his ex-wife had recently sought a divorce by mutual agreement, and Mary Jean had just closed a chapter of her own. She had wed Ronald LeRae in 1943, just before he left for war, but the spark that once bound them had faded upon his return. Both were searching for that new spark in each other, even though their divorces were not yet finalized. That night, they joined Jimmy's older brother Bob and his girlfriend Virginia for a double date at the movies. When the picture ended around 11, Jimmy dropped the other couple off and turned to take Mary Jean home. But the evening was warm, their love was new, and neither was ready to let the night end. The pair drove aimlessly, through the quiet streets for a while, before stopping at a lover's lane at around 11.45pm. The secluded spot was outside the last row of homes on the Texas side of Texarkana. This was a popular location, and everyone knew this was the place to go if you needed an escape from nosy eyes and ears. Named Richmond Road, a mall now stands on the site, but back then, it was the edge of town. On these outskirts, there were no houses or businesses, no prying eyes to invade on their time alone together. Parked on Richmond Road, Jimmy and Mary spent their time talking. Jimmy was doing his best to impress his date, both of them feeling safe, even in such an isolated setting. And after a few minutes, another car pulled up behind them. Now this wasn't totally out of the ordinary, as the lover's lane was very well known. Jimmy and Mary believed that it was probably just another couple. But then suddenly, the driver's side door opened, and someone began to walk towards their parked car. Before they knew it, a flashlight burned in the darkness outside Jimmy's window, aimed directly at their eyes. Even in the darkness, the pair could see who had disturbed their moment of peace. It was a man, around six feet tall, wearing a white cloth bag with eye holes cut out to conceal his face. Now that alone was alarming. But even more so was the gun he held in his hand. The man's voice was cruel and aggressive, as he ordered the pair out of the car and into the February night. At first, Jimmy thought this had to be a mistake, a prank perhaps, or even a case of mistaken identity. He tried to reason with the man, telling him that he had the wrong person. But the voice that answered was cold and deliberate. I don't want to kill you, fellow. The stranger said. So do what I say. In the stillness of the unseasonably warm night, Jimmy stepped out of the car as the man demanded. The attacker's tone left no room for argument. But then he yelled out, take off your goddamn britches. His words were sharp and final. With his eyes on the gun, Jimmy obeyed. But as soon as he took off his trousers, the attacker struck. The barrel, the barrel of the gun came whistling down through the air, bludgeoning Jimmy Hollis twice on the top of his head. The cracking sound was so loud that Mary Jean thought the assailant had fired on her boyfriend. In reality, Jimmy lay on the ground, his skull fractured, and Mary quickly ran to his side in shock. Now she believed the man only wanted money. So desperate, she grabbed Jimmy's empty wallet and held it out, pleading with the man. The attacker said, I don't have anything. She begged. However, the man responded with an accusation, calling her a liar. Then a sudden blow followed, striking her across the head. Mary would later say that it was a blunt object, either the gun or the flashlight he had used to blind them moments earlier. Lying on the ground, dazed and afraid, Mary heard the attacker give her another order. She said, I don't have anything. She begged. However, the man responded with an order. This one was just as strange as the first, but it carried a different sort of weight. Get up and run, he demanded. While it should have been a relief, it was only another inspiration of fear. Was he playing a game, or was he setting her free? Scrambling to her feet, Mary turned to flee into a ditch, only to be halted by her attacker. He didn't want her to go down in the ditch, he said. Mary ran to run down the street, an open view. It almost seemed like the man was trying to hunt her, but too afraid to disobey his orders, Mary complied. She fled from the scene as her attacker began to stomp on Jimmy Hollis' body. Mary continued running, staggering half-blind through the darkness and high heels. Eventually, she spotted an old car off the side of the road, and she ran towards it, hoping that she had just found herself but upon looking inside, she realized it was empty. Even worse, she heard the sounds of footsteps coming up behind her. Mary Jean turned to see her attacker approaching from the darkness. As he came near, he asked her why she was running. When she responded that he had told her to do so, the attacker called her a liar and struck her once again, knocking her to the ground. Mary Jean Luray was shaking with terror, but the worst for her was yet to come. As she lay on the gravel road, Mary Jean was brutally sexually assaulted with the barrel of her attacker's gun. When it was over, Mary Jean had little fight left in her. In tears, she told him, "Go ahead and kill me." Instead, the attacker fled the scene, leaving her alive but battered, forever psychologically scarred. After he had been gone for a moment, Mary Jean struggled to her feet. A grueling half-mile run followed as she searched for a savior, knocking on the door. Mary Jean opened the door of a nearby home until the residents finally awoke and led her inside. She was able to call the police, but unbeknownst to her, so had Jimmy Hollis. He had regained consciousness despite his fractured skull and was able to flag down a passing motorist. Within 30 minutes of their calls, four policemen were on the scene. While Mary Jean Luray and Jimmy Hollis were taken to the hospital, police searched the area for any signs that might lead them to whatever monster had carried out this brutal act. Mary Jean was only in the hospital overnight as she recovered from a minor head wound, but Jimmy would spend months healing from multiple skull fractures. The police found tire tracks near the scene, but they didn't seem to point to any specific type of vehicle. They also recovered Jimmy's trousers, about 100 yards away from his parked car, but all of his other belongings were intact. With this bit of evidence, the police had nothing to go on. In 1946, there was no chance of finding Jimmy Hollis or using DNA evidence. So even if Jimmy and Mary had been covered in their assailant's genetic material, the police wouldn't have been able to do anything with it. So for now, they had next to nothing. They had to hope that Jimmy and Mary could give them something conclusive, but their victims proved almost as unhelpful as the crime scene itself. When police asked Mary and Jimmy for the entire story, their accounts differed regarding their attacks. Because of the mask he was wearing, neither of them could give a clear description of his face. They both stated he was a tall man, approximately six feet. But Mary claimed the attacker was a light-skinned African-American man, while Jimmy said he was a tan white man, around 30 years old. The police hounded them for more information, specifically Mary Jean. Their differing accounts raised eyebrows, and they even came to believe that the couple may have known their attacker, but were protecting them out of some sort of misplaced loyalty. But that wasn't the case. Mary and Jimmy told the police all they knew, but none of it was any use to them. But Jimmy did state something during his interview that would prove to be nothing short of a premonition. Their attacker wasn't done, and his next victims would not leave the scene of the crime alive. Now three days after the attacks, the Texarkana Gazette, a local newspaper, ran a story about the attack on February 25th. It was titled, Insurance Agent and Girl Assaulted on a Lonely Dirt Road. This would be the very first published news about the man who would become known as the Phantom Killer. But despite how tragic the crime was, no one yet knew the true depths of this man's depraved cruelty. Mary Jean would end up leaving Texarkana a couple weeks after the story broke, fleeing to Oklahoma to live with family members. Being so close to the site of her attack was too much for her to bear. What had started as a beautiful night had turned into a horror story, a permanent scar on Mary Jean's life. News of the crime spread quickly throughout town. Meanwhile, the next victim of this monster went about their day-to-day, completely unaware that their names were about to be inked across headlines. Richard Lanier Griffin was 29 years old in 1946, born on the 31st of August, 1916. Having grown up in Linden, Texas, Richard eventually entered the military to participate in World War II as a member of the Seabees, a U.S. Naval Construction Battalion. While he worked in construction for the U.S. Navy, he and the rest of the Seabees were no less prepared to take part in combat. Richard had been discharged from the military in 1945 and returned to Texas to live with his mother in a housing unit provided to help reintegrate soldiers. A carpenter and painter by trade, Richard spent the months after his discharge resuming his work, but had also found a new joy, a 17-year-old girl named Polly. Polly Ann Moore, born on November 10, 1928, in Atlanta, Texas, graduated from high school a year prior at the age of 16. The 12-year-old was born on November 10, 1928, in Atlanta, Texas, graduated from high school a year prior at the age of 16. The 12-year age gap between Polly and Richard was considered fairly socially acceptable in 1946. It was almost par for the course for an older man to date a much younger woman, and Arkansas' age of consent at the time was just 16 years old. Texas held that it was 18, but there were certain exceptions to the law that could make it legally permissible. By March of 1946, Polly and Richard had been dating for about six weeks, and their relationship was going well. On Saturday, March 23rd, the couple spent the night out at a Texarkana cafe, visiting with Richard's sister, Eleanor, and her boyfriend. The two couples went about their night like normal, and then at around 10 p.m., they parted ways. With no interest in going home just yet, Richard and Polly decided to head to the nearby Lover's Lane. The first attack had come and gone weeks earlier, and though it initially spun the town up into concern, many people were beginning to forget about Jimmy and Mary's horrifying ordeal. The news had taken the story and run with it, but they also didn't talk about Mary's assault, as they thought it was too vulgar for the daily news. Their incident was considered a one-off, a frightening but freaky occurrence that was unlikely to happen again. In fact, the police believed that the attack came from a personal vendetta against the couple, not a maniac. Out for blood, maybe Mary and Jimmy had been a part of a love triangle gone wrong, but they would not discover just how wrong they were until the morning of March 24th, after Richard and Polly's night out. On that quiet Sunday morning, a motorist was driving down Rich Road, located just south of Highway 67. The gravel road was surrounded by trees, close to a hangout called Club Dallas, only a few blocks away. Since that day, the road has been renovated. The road was named South Robinson, but Rich Road, like Richmond Road, was considered, at the time, to be a lover's lane, a good place for couples to go for privacy. Sometime between 8 and 9.30 that morning, the motorist noticed an Oldsmobile parked along the side of Rich Road. Thinking this was strange, they pulled over to take a closer look and see if they could find out who the car belonged to. Approaching the vehicle and looking inside, he saw that two people occupied it. At first, he thought the pair were merely. sleeping, until he noticed the blood pooling around their bodies. The first of the two bodies was male, and he was oddly crouched down between the front seats of the car. His head had come to rest on his crossed hands, and the pockets of his trousers had been turned out. Behind him, in the back seat, a young woman's body was lying face down. Her pockets, like those of the man, had been turned out as well. The source of the blood quickly became evident to the shocked motorist. They had been shot in the back of the head. Murdered, as if it were an execution. Bowie County answered the call that would come in soon after the discovery of the bodies. As it occurred on the Texas side of the city, it was technically their jurisdiction. The call was a bit unnerving when it came in, especially for Sheriff Bill Presley, the first officer on scene the night of Mary Jean LeRae and Jimmy Hollis' ordeal. After authorities arrived, the car was quickly identified as having belonged to Richard Griffin, the man slumped over in the front seat. The young woman in the back was not so easily identified, though. Only after they examined her class ring, bearing the inscription P.A.M., her initials, and 45, her graduation year, were they able to determine that it was Polly Ann Moore. Polly and her boyfriend had been executed. But strangely enough, there wasn't a lot of blood in the car. The police concluded that the killer had to have murdered the pair elsewhere, and then placed their bodies inside the car. The police then searched the Oldsmobile and posed them for discovery later on. They would later find a blood-soaked patch of soil about 20 feet away from the car. A later test revealed it was Polly's blood. Now, the inside of Richard's Oldsmobile was far from clean. Congealed blood covered the running board and had pulled beneath the car's doors. But once again, it appeared the victims were the only ones to leave any evidence behind. That Sunday, Brainstormers, the police were able to find the body of Richard. Brainstormers were able to find the body of Richard. investigation and the townspeople's growing caution, two more lives were about to cross the murderer's path. 15-year-old Betty Jo Booker, born June 5th, 1930, was an only child who had lost her father at a young age. But in kindergarten, she met Paul Martin, a boy who quickly became her best friend. Paul, born May 8th, 1929, was the youngest of four brothers. The two had once lived close to each other on the Texas side of the city, but when Betty's mother remarried, they moved as a family to the Arkansas side. Betty, though, could not be separated from Paul. She continued to attend Beach Street Baptist Church, all to ensure that she could see her best friend regularly. Life began to pull the two apart despite their best efforts to remain close, and Paul was sent to Gulfport, Mississippi's Gulf Coast Military Academy for a whole year before eventually returning to Texas, only to attend high school in nearby Kilgore. Betty, meanwhile, was the pretty popular girl in school, dedicated to her grades in music, both of which were flawless. A skilled saxophonist, Betty played in multiple bands across Texarkana, and her schedule was always busy. In the second week of April 1946, Betty and Paul had decided to see each other. They had been apart for some time, but after reconnecting, they were excited to resume their friendship. Paul would be in town that weekend, and it would be a chance too good to miss. Even with a maniac on the loose. So, on Friday the 12th, Paul said goodbye to his parents as he prepared to make the two-hour drive from Kilgore to Texarkana. Paul had planned to spend the weekend with friends, but he promised his mother he'd be back on Sunday morning. Paul stayed with a friend in the city that night, planning to see Betty the next day, Saturday, April 13th. That evening, Betty was playing with a band called The Rhythmaires at a Veterans of Foreign Wars club on West 4th and Oak Streets. She wouldn't finally be released until 1:30 in the morning, but, despite the late night, Betty couldn't be dissuaded from visiting her friend. Paul arrived to pick Betty up in his new 1946 Ford Club coupe, ready to drive her to a slumber party on the other side of the city. Somewhere along the way, however, the pair decided to stop in the worst possible place: a local lover's lane. Only five hours after Paul had picked up Betty from the Veterans of Foreign Wars club, a local family made a grim discovery. Sixteen-year-old Paul Martin's body was found early that morning by Mr. and Mrs. Weaver while they were out walking with their young son. What should have been a quiet start to the day turned into a scene of horror. Paul's body, bloodied and battered, lay along the northern edge of North Park Road. Even from a distance, it was clear that Paul had been shot numerous times, but more blood nearby told these shaken bystanders that there was another victim. It was again Sheriff Bill Presley who responded to the scene. The traumatized bystanders were asked for any information they had, and the police began to work the newest case of the serial murderer. Piecing together information that the police gathered about the night before, they found that Paul should have not been alone. Betty had never arrived at her friend's sleepover, so she should be here, but her body was nowhere to be found. They were all hoping that she may be escaped, that she had been able to run from her attacker and possibly hide herself away from his malicious intent. But even if that were true, she could still be severely hurt. Time was of the essence. A search was quickly launched to find the missing teenage girl, covering all of the surrounding areas. Every bush and field was suspect to the search, and several citizens joined in to help. However, the search did not end well. The police were not able to find the missing teenage girl, however, hours and hours passed with no sign of Betty Jo, and the prospects of finding her alive were growing slim. And then finally, at 11:30 AM, their worst fears were confirmed when volunteers found her corpse laid on the ground beside a tree. The body was found by the Boyd family, along with a man named Ted Shopee. They had been searching the area of what is today known as Gallery Oaks in Fernwood Drives. Like the other murder victims, they found Betty Jo fully clothed. Yet her body seemed oddly staged. She was lying on her back, her coat was buttoned up to the chin, and her right hand was positioned to rest inside the coat pocket. It was odd that she was placed in such a way. But even more strange was that she had been carried nearly two miles from the location of Paul's body. She had been taken to the hospital to be taken to the hospital to be taken to the hospital to be taken to the hospital. There were other differences in the murders too. While an examination showed that Paul Martin had been shot four times, Betty had only been shot twice. Paul had suffered gunshot wounds to his nose, his left ribs from behind, his right hand and the back of his neck, and some of his wounds indicated that he had been running from his attacker when he was shot. Yet Betty's wounds were far more direct and blatant, one in the chest and again directly to the face. A reason for Betty being dragged away from the scene also became apparent. Just as Mary Jean and Paulie Ann, Betty Jo had been sexually assaulted, either before or during her murder. Paul and Betty's deaths followed on the heels of the previous double murder, and the circumstances were far too similar to be ignored. They had both been slain on a weekend night while parked on a lover's lane. More than that, the weapon used on the two young people was likely to be an automatic.32 Colt pistol. The car that the two victims were driving, though, took longer to locate. Paul Martin's car was found nowhere near the scene. In fact, when it was finally located, it was a mile and a half away from Paul's resting place, over three miles away from Betty Jo's, outside Spring Lake Park. The coup's keys were still in the ignition, and there was no telling which of the two was targeted first. The irregularity of the crime scene made it all but impossible to map out the events of that morning, so it was not possible to find out which of the two was targeted in the first place. But, in the end, the murder of Betty and Paul took place on the same day, on April 16th. Days later, on April 16th, Betty and Paul's funerals took place. That Tuesday, schools let the students out early, allowing them time to grieve for their lost friends. Beach Street Baptist, the church that both teens had attended, was packed with people all struggling to come to grips with the tragedy. After Betty's death, the band that she had been a part of decided to never play another gig out of respect for the musician they lost, and their town was clearly shaken. This was the third assault, and like we mentioned, the word serial killer had yet to be created in America. But still, the police knew that there was a monster lurking in Texarkana, a monster targeting young couples in lovers' lanes. And being no closer to finding him, they decided to bring in some extra help. It was a Texas Ranger named Manuel T. Gonzalez. Now, Texas Rangers are a tactical unit that handles major violent crime, public corruption, shooting investigations, border security, and crisis negotiation programs. They are an elite organization within Texas and widely regarded as one of the best professional teams in the field. And Gonzalez was a highly respected Texas Ranger. He worked in the field for over 25 years and was quickly on his way to becoming one of the state's best known and respected lawmen. But he was known to have a penchant for drama and flair. Some people accused him of taking credit for their work. But it was hard to argue that Manuel was skilled in his craft. He was a persistent man, never afraid to step out of the box. Gonzalez even had a moniker, something that one would expect to hear on an old western: Lone Wolf. It seemed like something that only happened in TV shows. A Texas Ranger with his own nickname being called in to put a stop to a string of murders. But, as is so often the case, real life at times can prove to be stranger than fiction. Gonzalez was not the only one who had earned himself a nickname. However, on April 16th, a story by the Texarkana Gazette would run, titled "Phantom Killer Eludes Officials as Investigation of Slayings Pressed." Another headline the following day read, "Phantom Slayings" Slayers still at large as probe continues. The mysterious gunman, who had by this point taken the lives of four young people, had come to be known as the Phantom Killer. A name that one could only imagine hearing in a thriller film. This movie come to life, though, was all too real for people in Texarkana in 1946. And the price for catching a glimpse of this masked figure was truly life or death. The consequences of involving a Texas Ranger quickly made themselves apparent. The public knew they had something to take seriously on their hands. Somehow, bringing in a Texas Ranger made the situation more dire than it already had been. This was no longer a small-time case. The people of Texarkana had a legitimate reason to be afraid at night. After the murders of Betty Jo and Paul, the police continued searching for any leads they could get their hands on. Up to this point, the Phantom Killer of Texarkana had left them nothing to go on. They also ruled out a personal vendetta, as Paul's friend, Tom Albrecht, was the one to blame. Tom's friend, Tom Albrecht, testified that he didn't believe the two had argued, nor did Paul have any enemies. The police had minimal direction until investigators noticed a discrepancy among the items that should have been present in Paul Martin's car. Paul had picked Betty Jo up from a musical performance. Yet, Betty's saxophone was nowhere to be found. It was not in the car, nor was it anywhere near the murder site. The pair had not been seen anywhere the night before the discovery of their bodies, so it was unlikely that Betty had dropped it off somewhere. Moreover, she would not have left it at the Veterans Club. She was dedicated to her instrument, so she wouldn't carelessly forget it. Police assumed from this missing saxophone that the teens had been victim of a robbery gone wrong. Finally, big or small, the police had a lead to follow. Texas City Chief of Police Jack Runnels handled the investigation, and a little over a week later, he had finally had a suspect. On April 25th, a man in Corpus Christi, Texas was identified for attempting to sell a saxophone to a music store. Employees said, that he seemed to be very nervous while he was selling the instrument. They noticed that something was off about him. So much so, the employee decided to have the manager speak to him, and when the manager confronted the nervous man, he fled. Police were contacted, and the description of the stranger was given. Two days later, police had the man in custody. On April 27th, the nervous suspect was sitting across the table from police, and they too were anxious to learn where he had obtained the saxophone, and why he seemed so nervous at the music store. Now, by that point, the police had also learned that the man had purchased a.45 revolver from a pawn shop. They also learned that he no longer had the saxophone in his possession. Now, as if this gun purchase and saxophone were not suspicious enough, the man also had in his possession a bloody bag, and a bag full of clothing. He claimed that he had gotten into a bar fight a few days prior, and hadn't gotten around to washing the clothing. The police weren't believing his story. Yet, as so many did in this case, the road would lead to a dead end. The man, despite being positively identified as the same man in the music shop, was cleared as a suspect. He was detained for several days and questioned time and time again, but police were forced to accept the fact that the man had purchased the saxophone, but police were forced to accept the saxophone, but police were forced to accept the fact that the man had purchased the saxophone, that he wasn't their killer. but police were forced to accept the fact that the man had purchased the saxophone, , and that the man had purchased the saxophone. but police were forced to accept the fact that the man had purchased the saxophone, , , but police were forced to accept the fact that the man had purchased the saxophone, but police were forced to accept the fact that the man had purchased the saxophone, but police were forced to accept the fact that the man had purchased the saxophone, but police were forced to accept the fact that the man had purchased the saxophone, but police were forced to accept the fact that the man had purchased the saxophone, but police were forced to accept the fact that the man had purchased the saxophone, but police were forced to accept the fact that the man had purchased the saxophone, but police were forced to accept the fact that the man had purchased the saxophone, but police were forced to accept the fact that the man had purchased the saxophone, but police were forced to accept the fact that the man had purchased the saxophone, but police were forced to accept the fact that the man had purchased the saxophone, but police were forced to accept the fact that the man had purchased the saxophone, but police were forced to accept the fact that the man had purchased the saxophone, but police were forced to accept the fact that the man had purchased the saxophone, but police were forced to accept the fact that the man had purchased the saxophone, had to get help, and she had to get it soon. So she crawled to cover in the bedroom, then took a moment to collect her thoughts. She knew that her husband kept a loaded pistol in the living room, so she began to make her way towards it. Opening her eyes, she realized that her own blood blinded her, running down her face in streams. She tried to make out the shapes and shadows of her home, but fresh panic overtook her, as she heard what sounded like someone trying to tear loose the screen from a door or window. It seemed as if the killer had run from the front of the house, where he shot at the couple, to the back of the house, and was trying to open her back door. If they managed to get the door open, he would have instant access to Katie. Leaving a trail of blood and broken teeth, Katie thought of leaving a note for her family, before she was killed. She knew that her death was imminent, but instead, she decided to keep fighting. Knowing that the killer was in the back of the house, she knew that her best chance to escape was through the front door. Turning, she ran through the dining room and bedroom, down a hallway, then through the front of the house. Investigators would later say that Katie left a, quote, virtual river of blood with every step she took. Barefoot, in nothing but the nightgown she wore to bed, Katie dashed across the street to the home of her sister and brother-in-law. Fresh terror ran through her, as she realized no one was home. But thankfully, her other neighbor was. Running another 50 yards to the house of A.V. Prater, she frantically knocked on the door. Luckily, he was still awake. As Prater rushed to her aid, Katie had time to only say, before the blood loss, panic, and pain finally caused her to collapse in his yard. Prater, in a moment of quick thinking, grabbed one of his rifles and fired it into the air, hoping to alert the other neighbors. Elmer Taylor responded to his call for help and quickly retrieved his car at Prater's command. Prater, his wife and baby, and Elmer traveled to Michael Meager Hospital together, hoping that they would be quick enough to save Katie's life. On the way to Michael Meager Hospital, now known as the Miller County Health Unit, Katie struggled to stay conscious. She was so confused from her blood loss that she pulled out one of her shattered teeth that contained a gold filling, and gave it to Elmer Taylor as a compensation for his aid. The neighbors managed to get Katie to the hospital in time to save her from going into shock, and soon after, she would enter surgery to attempt to repair her bullet-torn face. The headlines that came out soon after would be titled things like, Murder Rocks City Again, Farmer Slain, Wife Wounded, Police would struggle to connect this murder with the cases of those slain on Lover's Lanes, yet the attack on the Starks' home felt suspiciously related all the same. The attack on the home stood out in several aspects, mainly because it was a farmhouse, not a Lover's Lane, and neither of the victims was a teenager. When police arrived at the farmhouse to begin their investigation, located this time on the Arkansas side of town, the first thing they noticed was Katie's trail of blood. Following it, they were led to the body, and the victim was found dead. The victim was found dead, his body was still there, but reports conflict about whether Virgil was still sitting in the armchair or lying across the floor. Investigators were able to confirm, however, that he had been shot twice in the back of the head. Virgil's armchair had also caught on fire, owing to the heating pad that his wife had brought him before going to the bedroom. Thankfully, the fire had not managed to spread. Until now, all of the attacks had taken place on the Texas side of Txarkana. Bowie County had been the center of all the investigative chaos. But now, Arkansas's Miller County was truly thrust into the nightmare. The people of Txarkana's Arkansas side had been terrified of the murderer crossing the border, and now their fears had come true. Sheriff W.E. David of Miller County arrived at the farmhouse, joined by a swarm of police. After seeing the crime scene, he told every police officer, in the area, to set up a blockade on Highway 67. Sheriff David wanted to ensure that every suspicious person leaving the area was stopped, detained, and questioned. Now, 12 people were ultimately detained, but only three of them were questioned, and none of them proved to be involved. Soon after, bloodhounds were brought in to help follow a trail the killer may have left, and the dogs picked up on two scents. But both ended, at a nearby highway. Investigators theorized that the killer left their car there while they carried out the attack, then somehow returned to the vehicle, and avoided the police blockade to make their escape. But when looking at the evidence at the scene, police theorized that an automatic rifle had been used to carry out this attack, not a.32 Colt pistol that had been used before. They also learned that four shots in total had been fired into the home. There were only two holes in the glass. So the shooter had been able to fire multiple shots through a single hole, without having to aim again. In the days after the shooting, police would visit Katie while she was in the hospital recovering from her wounds, and she told them all about what happened. Four days later, they would talk to Katie again. But sadly, there were no promising leads. And again, another villain was getting in the way of their investigation. A story was circulating that Virgil Starks had been facing harassment in the days leading up to his death, but Katie called this a complete fiction. The attack had been so terrifying because there was no warning, no build-up to the gunshots in her living room. It had been such a traumatic experience because there were no signs. No one seemed to be out for their blood until the bullets were fired into their home. Despite gleaning everything they could from the scene, investigators struggled to connect this slaying with the phantom killer. This attack was on the Arkansas side, had not taken place on a lover's lane, and the bullets used were found to be.22 caliber rounds. All this information together made police speculate that it was a completely different killer. Or perhaps the phantom had even inspired a copycat to begin their own murder spree. If it was the same man though, Sheriff David called them the luckiest person he had ever known. In a press conference, he spoke on the ethereal aspect this media, Davis would state, no one sees him, hears him in time, or can identify him in any way. The public understood this all too well. After the fourth murder, Texarkana was near social anarchy. Even in trying to canvas homes, police were stopped by terrified citizens, wanting them to identify themselves. If they didn't, they were at risk of being shot. The patrols around the city only grew more rampant, and every door of every home was locked as the sun went down. Loaded guns were kept under people's pillows. Children were ordered to sleep on the floor in the same room as their parents, and the reward fund continued to grow. For Virgil's murder alone, $2,500 was put up. Meanwhile, the phantom killer investigation offered $7,000, which is around $116,000 today. But sadly, all leads sent in continued to prove unsuccessful. Now, the police did find a flashlight on Virgil Stark's front porch, and initially this sparked some hope. They even sent it to the FBI crime lab in Washington, D.C., but this too led to nowhere. But after news of the Texarkana Moonlight murder spread throughout the nation, one person came back into town to help aid in the search. It was Mary Jean Larry. One of the first victims of this killer. She knew that the city was in a crisis. After hearing about the murders of Polly Ann Moore and Richard Griffin, she came back to the city hoping to help with the information she had. It was the day after the Texarkana Gazette published a story about her attack on May 11th, that her own attack was finally publicly connected to the phantom killer case. And I've experienced unwritten rules being placed on me in my own different way. Like, boys don't cry, being a good friend means always being available, or if everyone else can keep up, I should be able to as well. And rules like that that society places on people can put you in a weird state of mind, and can oftentimes make you question who you really are and if you're doing the right thing. If you've been wanting to start therapy, BetterHelp works with more than 125 health health plan networks, and eligible members have an average co-pay of just $23 per session with insurance. 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Houses suddenly became equipped with floodlights, as people sought to protect their property. Homemade alarm systems, consisting of pots and pans tied to doors, became commonplace. Liquor stores were closed at 9.30 p.m. Restaurants, nightclubs, and theaters were seldom more than half full. People even began to stay in hotels rather than at home, just to feel some relative safety. The investigation continued to intensify, as the population became increasingly frenzied, with state-of-the-art investigative equipment being dispatched from Austin. This new tech, which included two-way radios and a teletype machine, allowed any break in the case to be rapidly disseminated amongst the growing team of law enforcement officials. As the police struggled to find a culprit, the people of Texarkana made up their own theories. The victims of the phantom killer slayings had all been sought out for vengeance, some said, but the police discounted this. None of the victims had any connection to each other. Another theory, considered plausible, even by some investigators, was that the phantom killer was a sex-crazed maniac. Even the newspapers had begun to publicize this theory soon after the death of Virgil Starks, owing to an offhanded comment by a police officer that, quote, sex may have been a motivation, end quote. Three of the crimes indeed had evidence of sexual assault. It had begun with Mary Jean, but it was possible that Katie Starks had simply escaped before the killer could do the same to her. But perhaps the most damaging rumors, however, were those that pinned certain people down as the killer themselves. Any social reject or suspicious person was claimed to have been the killer, their name slandered for all to hear. It was such that, when one of these people left town, rumors began that police had captured them in connection to the crimes. It was said that the person was being held in a secret jail cell by Texas Rangers, shackled to the floor, guarded with submachine guns every hour of the day. The police also had to deal with a surprising issue. False confessions. While sounding strange to us, police are somewhat accustomed to them. They had kept many details out of the public eye on purpose to ensure that only the real killer could confess to them. In doing so, nine Texarkana residents were weeded out for false confessions, including one man, an alcoholic, who used his fake confession to get bottles of whiskey from interested reporters. But one suspect initially showed great promise. Ralph B. Baumann, an ex-Army Air Force veteran, was a red-haired man who matched descriptions of a suspicious individual seen around Texarkana. He claimed to have been in a subconscious coma for weeks before waking up and running away from what he called something bad. When Ralph learned of the killings, he believed he may have been responsible. So, in an attempt to escape his crimes, he hitchhiked to California, where he finally confessed to the police. He was viewed as a plausible suspect, not only because of the description residents had given to the police, but also because of his military experience. He also claimed that when he woke from his subconscious coma, he could not find his rifle. Investigators listened to his story, but the pieces weren't adding up. Ralph had no new information. Anything he told them had already been publicized. Moreover, he initially claimed to have killed three people in three days, not matching the timeline of the phantom killings. The fact that made police confident that Ralph was a fraud, however, was that he had been discharged from the Air Force for suffering from a murder. He was also claimed to have killed three people in three days, not matching the timeline of the phantom killings. Instead of being a killer, Ralph was likely suffering from some sort of a delusion. The city was hungry for any information on the killer's identity, and the police were turning up nothing. So, the Texarkana Gazette did what it could to provide one. They called in Dr. Anthony LaPaula of the Federal Correctional Institute in Texarkana, and he gave them an early psychological profile for the phantom killer. LaPaula believed that the person was a male between his mid-thirties and mid-fifties, and one who led an average life by day. The man was considerably intelligent, and when they were not carrying out the murders, they put on an act of being a good citizen. The killer was motivated by a quote, strong sexual component, and Dr. LaPaula believed that he was some sort of sadist. He said he was unlikely to be a veteran, but LaPaula did feel that the killer was white, just as Jimmy Hollis had stated long ago. When asked why, LaPaula gave the answer of, quote, in general, negro criminals are not that clever, end quote. Now, this psychological profile would feed the news-hungry citizens, but it would do little in finding the real culprit. Eventually, the month of May came to an end, and while they were still searching for the phantom killer, they were still searching for the phantom killer, and while they were still searching for the phantom, there were no closer to finding him. Eventually, June began and passed, with no new attacks, and by July, the case began to wind down. It seemed that just as quickly as the phantom had appeared, he had vanished into thin air. Police theorized that he had moved on, that Texarkana was far too dangerous for him to continue his crimes there. The people were now armed, decoys were being placed on Lover's Lane. The police were now armed, decoys were being placed on Lover's Lane, and no one was going out at night. So, he moved on to another city. Three months after the murder of Virgil Starks, Manuel Gonzalez left town. Though he had promised to stay in Texarkana until the culprit was found, he suddenly had pressing business elsewhere. The flashy showman would remain with the Texas Rangers for only a short time more, before taking his talents to Hollywood. By October, the rest of the Texas Rangers had deemed the danger to be past, so they returned to Hollywood. The few FBI agents in Texarkana also left, and the significant police presence finally dwindled back down to local authorities. As they all left town, the frenzy slowly left with them. Weeks passed as the remaining police made no headway. That was until a 33-year-old officer, Max Tackett, of the Arkansas State Police, made a breakthrough. One of the first two officers to arrive on the scene of Virgil Starks' murder, he had realized that on each night the phantom killer attacked, there had been a car theft in the area. One of the stolen cars had also recently been found. It was stolen the night of Richard Griffin and Polly Moore's murder, and months later, it suddenly appeared in a parking lot. On June 28th, Tackett went on a stakeout. He watched the vehicle where it had been spotted, waiting for the thief to hopefully return. When someone did appear to access the car, he was shocked to see that it wasn't a tall man, but a sweet-looking young woman. Tackett immediately confronted her, and quickly learned that she was 21-year-old Peggy Stevens. She had allegedly just came back from Shreveport, Louisiana, and was due for a congratulations. She had just been married hours earlier to a man named Ewell Swenney. But Peggy had more information for the officer. Her husband was in Atlanta, Texas, selling yet another stolen vehicle. Nautaket tracked Swinney to Atlanta. but finally confronted him back in Texarkana, where he found Ewell at an Arkansas motor coach bus station along Front Street. Ewell initially tried to run when he saw the officer walking up, but he was quickly cornered. Ewell ran out of the back of the station, attempting to use a fire escape. When he realized there was nowhere to go, with officers blocking off every avenue, Ewell pleaded something unusual for a criminal accused of only stealing a car. Please don't shoot me, he begged. Tackett replied that he wouldn't get shot for vehicle theft. But what Ewell allegedly said next made officers believe that they had finally found the man they had been looking for. He said, quote, Mr. Don't play games with me. You want me for more than stealing cars, end quote. Now from there, he was apprehended and taken in for questioning. And over the next few days, he would make additional strange comments. He talked about getting executed by the electric chair and that he knew the police wanted him for violent crimes. And after doing a little digging on him, police learned that he had a long and ugly record. The 29-year-old had not only been convicted of car theft, but also of counterfeiting, burglary, and assault. He had been raised in Cleveland County, Arkansas, and seemed to have fallen far from his upbringing. as the son of a Baptist minister. Yet, with the way he was speaking, it appeared he was guilty of even more than his record showed. With these strange statements and his history, the police were almost sure that Ewell was the man they had been looking for since the late February attack on Mary Jane LeRae and Jimmy Hollis. His wife confirmed it. Peggy Stevens, now Swinney, came into the police station and, upon finding out that her husband was being held for murder, allegedly exclaimed, How did they find out? Peggy would confess on three separate occasions that Ewell, the 29-year-old son of a Baptist minister, was the phantom killer of Texarkana. Her first confession, taken on July 23, 1946, was the most detailed. She told the police, He and I were at his sister's house at 220 Senator Street. We were discussing the murders in Texarkana. I asked him who killed these people. He told me that it was someone with a brilliant mind, someone with more sense than the cops. Now, this could be bad, based on the Texarkana Gazette story, gleaned from comments made by Dr. Wapala, but Peggy also shared a concerning memory of her own from months prior. One night, after going out on a date with Ewell, he had suddenly disappeared from the car for almost an hour. They had parked near Spring Lake Park, the same place where Paul Martin and Betty Jo Booker were murdered. Peggy stated that while in the car, she heard two gunshots, but wasn't able to determine if they were from a pistol or a shotgun. She said that it was near, when Ewell finally returned, and when he did, he drove them away from Spring Lake Park at a rapid pace. Not only that, but his clothing was wet from the waist down. A day later, Peggy confessed yet again, but with slightly different details this time around. Now, she claimed to be a witness to the murder of Paul Martin and Betty Jo Booker, which she called a robbery gone wrong. She would confess once more much later in November of that year. Yet, even though it came so much later, the details she provided lent her some credibility. She even led police straight to the spot where Paul Martin's car was found, and said that she had been at the scene when the murder occurred. Police were shocked to hear her recount these details, because just as she said, a woman's heel print had been found at the crime scene. She also told them about Paul Martin's date book, an item that Paul Martin had been carrying when he died. She told police that it had been thrown into nearby bushes. And again, that is exactly where it had been found. Sheriff Bill Presley, one of the few people who knew about the date book, had never released that information to reporters or other police jurisdictions. So all of this combined convinced police that Swinney was the killer. It was also found that Yule had owned a.32 Colt pistol. The same model, the same gun that was used to kill Paul Martin, was also found in Yule's pockets. He said he had lost the gun recently in a game of cards, so they couldn't test to see if it was the gun used in the murders. Investigators also found slag in Yule's pockets, later found to be a match for samples from Virgil Stark's welding shop. But when the heat began to pile on, and Yule realized he was in danger of the death penalty, he refused to confess to the murders. -Yule clung to his gun, -Yule clung to his gun, innocence, but other tests seemed to point to his telling the truth. Fingerprint tests ended up inconclusive, and even though the police spent more than a year trying to validate Peggy's confession, they simply could not make the case hold water. Polls were found to riddle her statements, especially when it came to just how involved she claimed to be in the murders. Eventually, Peggy was written down as an unreliable witness. Her confessions, which the police had relied upon so heavily, were then dismissed. Moreover, Peggy refused to comply any further. A trial was beginning to form to prove Ewell Swinney's guilt or innocence, and as this threat loomed, Peggy recanted all she had said. Acting as the final nail in the coffin was the fact that, as his wife, Peggy could not be forced to testify against Ewell. The odds stacked up against police like a bad gamble. All they had left to prove Ewell's guilt was minor circumstantial evidence. And so, they were forced to drop the murder charges leveled against him. Ewell would not escape unscathed, however. Considering his prior arrests and offenses, Ewell Swinney was sentenced to life in prison for car theft. If he had truly been the phantom killer, it was akin to Al Capone being imprisoned for tax evasion. He would still be off the streets, even if he couldn't receive the death penalty. Whether or not he was the phantom that had terrorized Texarkana, Ewell Swinney was locked away for good. Texarkana would be well known for the murders years later. People were still looking over their shoulders when, in 1948, a new suspect revealed themselves. Now the confession did little to bring a sense of justice, because by the time the suspect was identified, he was already dead. Eighteen-year-old Henry Booker Tennyson, known as H.B. or "Duty," was a freshman at the University of Arkansas in 1948. On November 5th, two years after the phantom killer's final attack, Henry Booker was found dead in Fayetteville, Arkansas, in his bedroom. He had taken his own life by ingesting a lethal toxin, a combination of mercury and cyanide. He had purchased the two days prior, telling the store clerk that he had a rat problem. And Henry did leave behind a note. Strangely enough, it contained a riddle related to a lockbox. The note contained a lockbox and a pen, and a BB fountain pen, which, when opened, revealed another note inside. While the pen had also included the same combination of mercury and cyanide that Henry used to take his own life, the note, in turn, contained the lockbox combination written in yet another riddle. The police, tired of playing games, forced open the box, and inside were several handwritten letters, many of which claimed Henry was responsible for the terrorist's murder. This led to a case in which Henry had been accused of murder, and the police were forced to open the box. Texarkana phantom murders, which is why, according to the note, Henry had taken his own life. For a while, it was looking as if they had finally found their man. They even discovered that he had a connection to one of the victims, Betty Jo. Apparently, the two played together in the high school band. But sadly, once again, the police quickly ruled Henry Booker out. Over time, it was determined to be yet another false confession. For one, he had only been around 15 years old when the attacks began. Henry's other letters also made fantastic claims, things that simply couldn't have occurred. His brothers corroborated the falseness of the letters, saying that Henry was a guy who liked to tell stories. His family also told police that Henry wouldn't have been able to commit the crimes in the first place, as he didn't have access to the weapons needed to execute them. Police, conducting their own due diligence, confirmed that his fingerprints did not match those recovered at the crime scene. Finally, though it was all but certain that Henry Booker gave a false confession, a friend named James Freeman gave an alibi for Henry on the night of Virgil Starks' murder. There were many other minor suspects in the case of the Texarkana phantom killer, but the closest the police had ever come to a culprit was in Ewell Swinney. Even there, they failed to achieve a conviction. Ewell would appeal his life sentence in the early 70s and would be released in 1973, continuing to deny any involvement in the murders. Yet, even after his release, Texarkana never again saw a murder attributed to the phantom killer. Ewell Swinney would pass away in a Dallas nursing home in 1994, never officially charged. And the investigation into the case, later dubbed the Texarkana Moonlight Murders, was later the subject of an infamous film. The 1976 horror movie, called The Town That Dreaded Sundown, loosely followed the investigation of Captain Manuel Gonzalez. The film would become a major staple for the city, even though at the time of the murders, it had transformed the town into a near war zone. Every holiday, Ewell would play a role in the movie, and Ewell would play a role in the movie. Halloween, Texarkana hosts a public screening for the residents, allowing them to relive a somewhat more contrived version of the disturbing story that occurred in their very city so long ago. The cases, to this very day, remain unsolved. No one was ever arrested for any of the murders. And as of 2025, the evidence in the case has all but deteriorated, and there's little chance that anyone will ever be confirmed as the Phantom Killer beyond a factual confession. The murders are nearly 80 years old, and it's unlikely that the true culprit will ever be revealed. But some think that the true killer went on to commit more crimes outside of Texarkana. Some point to the Zodiac Killer, who, like the Phantom, used a flashlight and wore a hood or mask to conceal his face. Yet, the timeline there is hard to corroborate. The Zodiac Killer, during their own crimes, was thought to be young, but he was not. in the late 60s. If they were the same killer, the Phantom, who was described as possibly being around 30 years old, would have been in their 50s by the first attack of the Zodiac Killer. The case of the Texarkana Moonlight Murders will continue to live on in infamy. Having inspired its own genre of horror, one cannot forget the truth of these attacks. They were not a fun thrill on movie night. There were five lives lost, and three more forever. It was a community forever changed. A nightmare for the people in this two-state city. One that left them in mortal fear for years to come. When the gunfire finally ceased, when the rumors began to go silent, Texarkana tried to move on. Restaurants finally began to attract more customers. People began to put their guns away, and children were finally permitted to sleep in their own bedrooms once more. They could finally park on Lover's Lane again. And while more afraid than they had been, a masked gunman was no longer an imminent threat. It seemed as if he had moved on to another city. But the pulse of Texarkana would never beat the same. Doors were still locked after sundown, and every stranger was considered a possible threat. The Phantom may have vanished, but the whisper of fear he left behind would never disappear. The fear he etched upon the heart of Texarkana would remain forever. Shattering the illusion of safety, innocence, and love we all hold dear. But on a moonlit night in Texarkana, it's almost as if you can still feel the energy of those crimes echoing throughout the city's streets. The Phantom, the Moonlight Killer, still seems to stalk the forests and dirt roads and wooded areas of Texarkana, haunting the memory of local residents. It's a story with no resolution. And almost, in a way, a ghost story. A story where the killer never really officially existed. He's vanished into the void, damned forever to haunt the memories of those who call Texarkana home. And on certain moonlit nights in Texarkana, some local residents whisper that in the dark woods surrounding the town, the spirit and the energy of the Phantom lives on. Hey everybody, thank you so much for listening to this week's episode of Murder in America. Courtney and I appreciate every single one of you who listen every week. We wouldn't be here without you guys, so thank you. Next week we are beginning a huge series on the show, so be sure to tune in for that. If you want to help support Murder in America, please consider joining us on Patreon. On Patreon you can get early ad-free access to every episode of the show, so the episode like the one you just listened to right now. These episodes are posted early on the show, so if you want to support Murder in America, you can get early and ad-free on our Patreon. And in addition, if you love the show and you've listened to every single episode, we have an entire library of bonus episodes available on Patreon. This is, like I said, an entire library of full-length episodes with music and sound design, both Courtney and I. And sometimes the bonus episodes that we post on Patreon are even longer than the episodes we post on the main feed that week. It's kind of crazy how that happens sometimes. But if you want to help support the work that we do here, that is a great place to start. Also, don't forget to follow us on Instagram at Murder in America to see photos from every case that we cover here on the show. And if you haven't already, leave us a five-star review wherever you listen to this show. We love reading those reviews from you guys and hearing from y'all. So yeah, if you could take 10 seconds of your day and go do that for us, that would be amazing. Anyways, y'all, we will be back next week with the start of a massive series on the show that Courtney and I are excited to bring to y'all. Thank you so much for listening. I hope you guys have an incredible weekend. This is a story I've wanted to tell for a long time, and I'm glad we finally did it. And I'll catch y'all on the next one. Home of the save. Open soon. BJ's, home of the save. Pan's Labyrinth is in theaters right now. Celebrate the 20th anniversary of Guillermo del Toro's fantasy masterpiece with a brand new 4K restoration or an all-new 3D conversion. Get tickets now to experience Pan's Labyrinth like never before.