Deadly Lust. A Serial Killer Strikes

262 Pages·2014·2.21 MB·English

by  McCay Vernon

DEADLY LUST
McCAY VERNON and MARIE VERNON
PINNACLE BOOKS
Kensington Publishing Corp.
http://www.kensingtonbooks.com
All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.
Table of Contents Title Page
Foreword
Prologue - 1996: Season’s Greetings
Chapter 1 - November 1988: St. Augustine, Florida
Chapter 2 - The Two Sides of St. Augustine
Chapter 3 - Anita Stevens: A Victim of Crime/A Victim of Crack
Chapter 4 - June 1989: Constance Marie Terrell
Chapter 5 - An Advocate for Victims and Their Families
Chapter 6 - March 1992: Lashawna Streeter-White
Chapter 7 - The Stalker and the Stalked: A Prostitute’s Life on
the Streets
Chapter 8 - April 1993: Donetha Snead-Haile
Chapter 9 - Red Bird
Chapter 10 - June 1995: Cheryl Lucas
Chapter 11 - A Typical Suspect
Chapter 12 - October 1995: Diana Richardson
Chapter 13 - The Task Force
Chapter 14 - December 1996: Asheville, North Carolina
Chapter 15 - Christmas Card Redux
Chapter 16 - The Task Force Meets the Killer
Chapter 17 - A Long Investigation Begins
Chapter 18 - Lindsey’s Sexual History
Chapter 19 - A Pattern for Murder
Chapter 20 - An Interrogation Ends in Drama
Chapter 21 - Lindsey Returns to Florida
Chapter 22 - The Legal Issues
Chapter 23 - The Role of Law Enforcement
Chapter 24 - The Making of a Serial Lust Killer
Chapter 25 - Crack Cocaine: The Real Killer
Afterword
References
ABOUT THE AUTHORS
Copyright Page
Foreword Historic St. Augustine, Florida, with its colorful past,
has been home to pirates and villains, marauders and despots. In
the late 1980s a serial killer chose to make this, the nation’s oldest
city, the venue for his multiple slayings. William Darrell Lindsey,
born and raised in this quaint seaside town, murdered at least six
women in St. Augustine and one in North Carolina. He is
suspected of numerous other murders following the same pattern
as those to which he has confessed. The true story of his crimes
exposes the lurid underbelly of drugs, prostitution, and crime that
taints even this most seemingly placid of communities.
For star-crossed William Lindsey, life was never easy. As a three-month-old
infant, he lost both his parents in a tragic automobile accident. Today he sits in a
six-by-nine prison cell waiting for the cancer he has to end his life. His odyssey
has been a compelling story of a man whose macabre compulsions drove him
into drug addiction, sexual aberrations, suicide attempts, and, ultimately, murder.
Of the plots that play out in the lives of human beings, most have at least
some positive aspects. But there are no winners in this saga of serial lust murder
—the killer, his victims, their families, and society itself are all losers. Lindsey,
dominated by his bizarre, seemingly uncontrollable need to control, torture, rape,
and kill women, derived only fleeting pleasure from the fulfillment of his
fantasies. Ultimately he lived the life of a hunted animal. But the killer’s
personal tragedies are dwarfed by comparison to the pain, suffering, and brutal
deaths he inflicted upon the defenseless women he chose as his victims—young
women who were leading the desperate lives of street prostitutes as they fought
the ravages of crack cocaine addiction.
The depths of sorrow the parents and families of these young women have
endured is far greater than anyone who has not lived through the same
experience can fathom. It was prolonged torture for them to watch their
daughters, some of them already mothers themselves, fall prey to the curse of
drugs. They were forced to stand by helplessly as the women’s addictions forced
them into prostitution, enslaved them to predatory drug dealers, pimps, and
johns, and exposed them to life-threatening diseases. To see them abused by
these men, then cast aside when they were no longer useful, multiplied the
anguish. Then came the final tragedy—the women’s brutal and senseless deaths
at the hands of a serial killer.

There is a universal fascination with serial killers—those who murder not just
once, not simply in the heat of passion, but cold-bloodedly, deliberately, again
and again. This bizarre and most difficult to understand of all crimes compels us
to search deep within ourselves, within our dreams and hidden fantasies, in an
effort to understand such a killer’s motivation.
William Darrell Lindsey represents the essence of the enigma posed by serial
lust killers. To gain insight into the overwhelming compulsion that led a man to
kill brutally and seemingly at random involves exploring his life, the lives of his
victims, and the environment in which he chose to live. Nor can such research
ignore society’s views on criminal activities within a community.

It can only be speculated how many more women would have fallen prey to
St. Augustine’s serial killer had not a rare phenomenon contributed to his capture
—complete cooperation between two law enforcement agencies in communities
six hundred miles apart. Buncombe County Sheriff’s Department in Asheville,
North Carolina, and St. Johns County Sheriff’s Office in St. Augustine, Florida,
displayed the finest of cooperative police work in bringing William Lindsey to
justice.

Serendipity played a part in Lindsey’s capture as well. When one considers
the ease with which a nomadic killer is able to conceal himself within a culture
that includes drug dealers, prostitutes, pimps, and johns, it is understandable that
Lindsey’s heinous crimes remained unsolved for so long. As this story explores
the shadowy subculture within which Lindsey operated, it provides revealing
insights into the pervasive ease with which crack cocaine can contaminate an
entire segment of an otherwise model community.

In their search for the killer during the years he remained at large, police
investigators were forced to sift through a myriad of suspects and informants,
many with long criminal records. A number of these men and women offered
false information about the murders. Some even claimed credit for the crimes, a
not-unusual event in high-profile homicides. Each time investigators were forced
to use their resources pursuing these false leads, the killer gained the advantages
of both time and having suspicion diverted elsewhere.

The victims William Lindsey chose to kill present an equally intriguing but far
more tragic human story. Without exception, they were young women locked
into the unyielding grip of crack cocaine addiction. In order to feed this
insatiable habit, they lost control of their lives, and ultimately of life itself. Even
before death, their existence was one of crack-driven humiliation, desperation,
and frequent physical abuse. They were stigmatized as “worthless crackhead
whores,” especially by those who capitalized on their addiction. Those
insensitive to the women’s life circumstances viewed their deaths at the hands of
a killer as predictable and even justifiable.
Interviews with the victims’ families and others who knew them yielded a far
more compassionate view of these women. Lindsey’s victims could have been
anyone’s daughter, anyone’s sister, anyone’s neighbor. They were little girls who
danced in school performances, who drew hopscotch squares on the sidewalk,
who played with dolls and giggled with their girlfriends. While some of their
family situations portended less than optimal outcomes, in most cases they were
part of warm and loving families, not “throwaway children” as some would
assume.
So what went wrong? What compels a woman to sell her body five or ten
times a night, to risk contracting AIDS, to face the possibility of being
physically and emotionally abused, to jeopardize her very life? This book
documents how the quest for crack cocaine can consume and destroy once-
normal, rational human beings. It also explores the subculture that revolves
around crack cocaine and its use—the drug dealers, the pimps, the johns, the
prostitutes, and the serial killer in their midst.

The issue of race also plays a role in understanding the background against
which Lindsey’s murders occurred. What forces at work within St. Augustine’s
African American community may have facilitated the murders and made their
solution doubly difficult? How does the white community’s past record of
discrimination contribute to the social problems involved? Is there a workable
solution to the economic factors that make dealing crack cocaine appeal to many
young Black males as their only viable option for survival and success?
Without question, the acts William Lindsey committed, the manner in which
he took life not once but multiple times, are repugnant to contemplate. However,
like other serial killers, he was a man driven by a lust he was unable to control,
one that yielded sadistic sexual gratification only when he could inflict pain and
death upon his victims. As is true with all lust-driven serial killers, his acts of
killing brought only temporary surcease from his compulsion; with each
successful murder and the macabre thrill it provided, the need to repeat the act in
fantasy and reality was reinforced. Capture and imprisonment—or death—were
the only fates that could come from the wretched dilemma he faced.

Despite repeated attempts to interview William Darrell Lindsey, “the Crack
Head Corner Killer,” he declined to meet or correspond with us. His refusal
necessitated an exhaustive investigation and extensive interviews to gather the
facts required to understand the man and his crimes. In writing this story, we
have relied upon the records of law enforcement agencies, interviews with the
detectives involved in the various investigations, discussions with persons whom
Lindsey grew up with, employers, personal contacts with other serial killers, and
a thorough study of the literature on serial murder.
Without the full cooperation of Sheriff Neil Perry, of St. Johns County,
Florida, and that of Sheriff Bobby Medford, of Buncombe County Sheriff’s
Department, North Carolina, this book would have been impossible. From the
former agency we obtained complete transcripts or summary reports of
interviews conducted on the suspects questioned by St. Johns County detectives.
Equally valuable information was made available from Buncombe County. In
addition, we interviewed in depth the lead investigators and detectives in the
Lindsey case from each of these jurisdictions. Through their assistance and
cooperation we are able to present a much more rounded and authentic version
of events than would otherwise have been possible.
While numerous personnel of these law enforcement agencies lent their
assistance, special thanks are due to Detective Frank Welborn, who conducted
much of the investigation into Lindsey’s St. Augustine killings. Sergeant Jackie
Patronska, of the St. Johns County Sheriff’s Records Department, was especially
helpful in guiding us through the voluminous material on file in her department.
Advice from Kevin Kelshaw, spokesperson for the St. Johns County Sheriff’s
Office, saved us hours of going through blind alleys in search of the information
and contacts we required. Former detective Jennifer Ponce offered critical
insights into the investigation process, as did Special Agent Allen Strickrott, of
the Florida Department of Law Enforcement. In Asheville, North Carolina,
Detective John Harrison, the man who arrested Lindsey, was gracious enough to
give us his insights based on three decades of experience in law enforcement.
We are grateful for the time he spent going over the case with us, showing us the
crime site, and pointing out Asheville’s red-light district. For information about
police diving squads, we are grateful to Officer Tim Willingham, formerly of St.
Augustine Police Department, now a member of the Jacksonville Sheriff’s
Office.
Interviews with William Lindsey’s family and people he grew up with were
valuable in providing understanding of his arcane personality, especially his
early years. In order to gather data on Lindsey’s boyhood, we interviewed his
schoolmates from first grade through high school, especially those who grew up
in his neighborhood. Jackie Johnson, Donald Heyman, Joe Pomar, Charles
Brantley, Dickie Brantley, and Herbie Wiles were especially helpful.
Billie Sue Lockley, best friend and confidante of Lindsey’s late adoptive
sister, Sue Alice Lindsey, gave us good descriptions of the home where Lindsey
grew up and the family dynamics. Jean Bain, who worked with Lindsey’s father,
also offered valuable insights as well as information that put us in touch with
other people who knew the Lindseys. Likewise, Alice Roberts, Margaret
Brantley Hall, and Kathleen Rockwell provided help in rounding out this phase
of Lindsey’s early years.
For information about Lindsey’s marriages, interviews with Joan Forsyth and
Shirley Hammond, sisters of Lindsey’s first wife, Willa Jean Willis Lindsey,
supplemented information available from detectives’ interviews.
Agnes Marjenhoff, sister of Lindsey’s second wife, graciously shared with us
specific factual information, documentation of the marriage, and photographs.
Marjenhoff’s daughter, Rose, and her son, Fred, also assisted us with valuable
information and family photos of Lindsey.
Lillian Vaill and Joyce Bradley were helpful in locating relevant people in the
Palatka area to interview. Kay Guthrie shared her familiarity with many of the
suspects in the case and the places they frequented as well as helping with the
photographs in the book.
Debbie Thompson provided background on Lindsey’s work history and
behavior during the two years he was her employee and neighbor. Additional
facts regarding Lindsey’s employment history were contained in interviews
detectives conducted with his employers and coworkers.
Assistant State’s Attorney Maureen Christine, the prosecutor in the Lindsey
case, made full records from her office open to us. These contained data that
included pictures, interviews, and court information. Victims’ advocate Mary
Alice Colson guided us in understanding the impact such crimes have on