Richard Ramirez Quotes

Killing is killing, whether done for duty, profit or fun

I gave up love and happiness a long time ago.

Serial killers do, on a small scale, what governments do on a large one. They are products of our times and these are bloodthirsty times.

We've all got the power to kill in our hands, but most of us are afraid to use it. Those who aren't, control life itself.

With books he could leave his cell and go wherever the story went.

That night she again slept in the back of her brother’s car, hidden under her raincoat, afraid of the rats, of the police, and of men who got their kicks from hurting women. Ruth knew it was a cruel world filled with people who were capable of terrible things.

That first year in L.A., Richard became addicted to cocaine. It was 1978, and coke was the “in” drug, selling for $100 per gram. This was prior to the Colombian cartels applying modern corporate techniques to the importation and distribution of cocaine in the States, which brought the price of a gram down to thirty-five dollars by the mid-eighties.

Mercedes took Richard to the hospital. He was examined perfunctorily and Mercedes was told he was an epileptic and was experiencing grand mal seizures. There was nothing to worry about—he’d “grow out of it.” He was not given any medication, nor was Mercedes asked to bring him back. At home, Ruth began noticing that her baby brother was having long staring spells in which he would just sit still and look at something—a wall, a table, the floor—for five, ten, fifteen minutes without speaking or moving. He was having petite mal seizures, but no one realized it then, and Richard wasn’t diagnosed or treated. Richard had one to two dozen of these petite mal attacks every month until he entered his early teens, when they, as well as the less frequent grand mal seizures, lessened and eventually stopped altogether. According to Dr. Ronald Geshwind, a certain number of people who suffer from temporal lobe epilepsy have altered sexuality and hyper-religious feelings, are hypergraphic (have a compulsion to write), and are excessively aggressive. Van Gogh, Julius Caesar, Napoleon, Dostoevsky, and Lewis Carroll all suffered from temporal lobe epilepsy. Years later, after all the trouble, Richard would be diagnosed as having temporal lobe epilepsy.

What makes serial murder cases so difficult to solve is the fact that the killer and the victim are strangers. You’ve got two ships passing in the night and for no good reason, one blows the other out of the water.

Dying doesn't scare me, I'll be in hell. With Satan." – Richard Ramirez

Unlike Jesus, Satan, he felt, would not scorn him, but

Hän uskoi sisimmässään, että mitä hirvittävämpiä ja pahempia hänen hyökkäyksensä olivat, sitä tyytyväisempi saatana olisi ja soisi hänelle tulisen siunauksensa.

Jury selection finally began on July 21, 1988, from a pool of 1600 citizens. The Hernandezes were looking for Hispanics and certain minorities; they felt that with a jury of all whites and Asians, Richard wouldn’t have a chance. They believed Hispanics and blacks would have a more open mind.

The juror selection was a slow, tedious process. It bored Richard, and he soon began falling asleep. He’d stay up late at night reading and would be tired for court. Judge Tynan didn’t like his sleeping and warned him to stay awake. Richard took to wearing large black Porsche-type sunglasses, also bought by Doreen, so he could close his eyes behind them.

Toward the end of July, Richard reportedly told a sheriffs deputy that he was going to have one of his girls sneak a gun into the courtroom and he was going to shoot Halpin to death, then people in the audience, then himself. Security was already tight, but the bailiffs took Ramirez’s alleged threat seriously, set up metal detectors, and searched everyone coming into the courtroom.

Daniel Hernandez told Judge Tynan that Richard didn’t want to attend the jury selection; Tynan said that he had to, whether he wanted to or not.

Jury selection took six months, longer than most had anticipated. On January 10, 1989, a jury and twelve alternates were sworn in, comprised of six Hispanics and six blacks, seven females and five males. The Hernandezes felt it was a victory for the defense.

For most of the jury selection, Arturo Hernandez had stopped coming to court. Daniel had hired a paralegal named Richard Salinas, who had wavy black hair, a pointed hatchet face, and dark eyes. Daniel would often confer with Salinas on important issues. Arturo had apparently become disillusioned with defending Richard. There was no big movie or book deal, and the case was costing him money. A television movie about the Night Stalker was in the works, but the Hernandezes hadn’t gotten a dime. As long as Richard refused to talk about his alleged crimes, nobody was willing to put up money. Daniel did his best, but the arduous task of being in court every day, staying in hotels away from his family in San Jose, and working without the benefit of co-counsel was taking its toll. He was tired, yet couldn’t sleep at night; he’d toss and turn and worry about the case, his two little girls, and his wife. He began eating excessively, and by the time the jury was finally sworn in, he’d gained twenty-five pounds.

Midway through the jury selection, juror expert Jo ’Ellan Dimitrius was brought in to help the defense. She had a long, thin face, intense dark eyes, and bouffant platinum hair. Richard often conferred with her.

Back at his office, knowing he could now never be Richard’s lawyer, Adashek phoned Gallegos and asked him to visit Richard at the jail. To keep Richard from calling the press, Adashek phoned Judge Soper and asked her if she’d bar Richard from having access to the phone and telling reporters that he was guilty. Such a story would virtually destroy Richard’s chances at trial if his new counsel decided to litigate the case. Judge Soper took his request under advisement.

Richard said he’d already assigned the rights of his story to Ruth, but he would sign them over to Gallegos in payment. That was agreeable to the lawyer; he knew the huge media attention would inevitably spark book and movie interest, and he agreed to accept the yet-to-be-made deals as payment.

It didn’t take long for the press to learn about Gallegos’s prior problem with the law. Both the Times and the News did detailed front-page pieces on his arrest and trial for assault with intent to commit murder and the subsequent reduction in charges by the judge which led to the guilty verdict being put aside.

Ruth stayed in Los Angeles that evening, and, armed with articles in the Times and News, she went back to the jail Thursday morning with Arturo, Daniel, and Barraza, showed Richard the articles, and read him the details. He realized that Gallegos’s credibility had disappeared with the publication of his run-in with the prostitute. “No judge will respect this guy,” Ruth said, and the Hernandezes agreed. Like Gallegos, they said, they would work on the case with no money up front in exchange for the book and movie rights sales for payment. They insisted Richard fight the case and go to trial. “I haven’t seen anything substantially connecting you to the crimes,” Daniel said. Arturo agreed. “It’s all circumstantial. We can win this case!” “I agree with them,” Barraza added. “You really think you can win?” Richard asked. “We will win,” Daniel told him.

The Hernandezes asked to be allowed to read the charges before Richard entered a plea. The judge called for a short adjournment to give Daniel and Arturo the opportunity to go over the particulars of the complaint. As Richard was led back to the holding pen, he shouted, “Hail, Satan,” again throwing the court into a tizzy. The Hernandezes said they hadn’t heard it, but the court stenographer heard him clearly and she put it in the record—“Hail, Satan.

On all the important decisions, Judge Nelson ruled against the defense: he allowed in the evidence recovered from the bus station and from Richard’s car and his sister Ruth’s house.

Judge Nelson set May 21 as the date Richard had to enter a plea on the fifty new felony charges. There were now fifty-eight, including the initial charges leveled in September 1985. Richard was taken out of the courtroom, chains rattling, feeling triumphant, feeling that Satan’s hand had helped in getting the eighteen charges dropped.

On May 21, Ramirez was back in court.

On May 28, 1987, Judge Michael Tynan set September 30 for the trial, warning the Hernandezes to be ready. On September 11, the Hernandezes again requested a delay of a few months, citing the prosecution’s failure to turn over items the defense needed to plot strategy and plan defense. Tynan refused to give them six months and set trial for February 1, 1988, only to grant another delay before then because the Hernandezes appealed to the district court of appeals to get certain evidence the prosecution was refusing to give the defense—namely, crime-scene photographs. On January 19, Tynan announced that the state court had granted a last-minute request by the Hernandezes for the state to turn over the evidence the defense wanted. On the twenty-fifth, he set March 22 for the trial date because of the uncertainty surrounding the appellate ruling. On March 16, the defense asked for yet another delay to review the new material they’d gotten as a result of the appellate decision, which Tynan granted, making April 29 the date for trial. Again, on the twenty-ninth, the defense asked for a delay, citing the huge amount of work as reason they weren’t ready. Tynan then scheduled June 30 for trial, but on June 21, the defense filed a motion to exclude Tynan, citing him as being racially biased against the defense, a tactic expected to buy more time. On July 8, Orange County Superior Court presiding judge Philip E. Cox ruled that Tynan was not biased. Finally, on July 21, 1988, jury selection began, and the battle began in earnest.

Halpin did not want Ruth or Ruben in the courtroom and he demanded they leave. He said they were going to be witnesses and had no right sitting in on the proceedings. The judge told them to leave.

Based on the standards set by the state bar for attorneys in capital crime cases, the Hernandezes were woefully inexperienced. Neither of them had ever tried a murder case, let alone one of this complexity. Richard wasn’t particularly impressed by Arturo and Daniel. They weren’t as seasoned, sharp, and well tailored as Gallegos, and they had had very little courtroom time. Richard told them, after repeating his rationale about why he was pleading guilty, that he had hired Gallegos.

As Cynthia Haden was leaving, Phil Halpin asked to speak with her up in his office for a minute. She followed him and Alan Yochelson up to the district attorney’s floor. Halpin thanked her for the verdict and asked her not to talk with the defense if they approached her. She said she wouldn’t and left, a bit bewildered about why they had apparently spoken only to her. When she got home, she called a few of the other jurors and they said they’d not been approached by the prosecutors.

In El Paso, Mercedes, Julian, and the rest of the Ramirez clan went to church and prayed Richard wouldn’t be given the death sentence. In her prayers to Mary, Mercedes explained it was a big, Satan-inspired mistake, that her son could not have done the things they said he’d done, that Satan’s hand was at work here. She implored Mary to speak to her son and tell him the truth.

He told his attorneys he didn’t want to put on any kind of defense for the penalty phase. Clark warned him that would be foolish, a mistake. If he wanted the jury not to give him the death sentence, they needed mitigating circumstances, something they could hang their hats on not to vote for death. He suggested Richard’s father, saying he was a good, hardworking man and he could very well stir up some sympathy among the jurors. Clark insisted if the defense didn’t present something for the jury on Richard’s behalf, they would surely sentence him to die: “You are as good as dead, Richard.” Richard said he didn’t want to put his father through that—beg for his life, grovel in front of Tynan, Halpin, Salerno, Carrillo, and the rest of the detectives. He wouldn’t stand for that. He insisted he didn’t want anyone in his family put on the stand. “They’ll kill you,” Clark repeated. “Richie, they’ll execute you, for sure,” Daniel put in. “Well, then let them. Fuck them. Dying doesn’t scare me. I’ll be in hell. With Satan. That’s gotta be a better place than this. I’d rather die than live in a cage. Fuck that shit, man,” he said, and laughed, then sat back, suddenly serious-faced. “Please, Richard—” Clark began, but was cut off. “We aren’t begging. Period,” Richard said, and that was that.

On the day of sentencing, the defense announced they would not be putting any witnesses on the stand on the defendant’s behalf, calling it “a tactical decision.” Richard would not be taking the stand, either.

As they entered, Richard glowered at them. Cynthia Haden couldn’t look him in the eyes. She felt guilty about having convicted him. She thought the Hernandezes were so woefully inadequate that Richard hadn’t gotten a fair shake. “He was sold down the river,” she would later say, and would make correcting that “injustice” her life’s work.

Death, as such, held no fear for Richard. More than ever he believed in his heart that he would go to Hell and sit at the right hand of Satan. He believed all the hardest criminals throughout history would be there and he’d get to know them. Jack the Ripper, Al Capone, John Dillinger, Ted Bundy, Adolf Hitler, and all the others sent to Hell for their deeds. Heaven and Hell were as real to Richard as the helicopter now taking him to San Quentin.

Cindy Haden wanted to be able to touch Richard, hold him, and be close to him, and she constantly thought of ways she could make that happen. When her employer had a mass layoff and she was fired, she decided she would become a private detective. If she had a detective’s license, she’d be able to work with Richard’s new San Francisco attorneys and have a visit with Richard in a private room. She applied for a job with a San Francisco security firm, was hired, and moved to San Francisco. She took a quiet apartment in Richmond. The security firm sponsored her for a license, and she passed the required examination. She went to one of the San Francisco public defenders representing Richard and talked him into taking her inside the county jail with him when he went to visit Richard. She and the attorney were shown into one of seven rooms allocated for lawyers who come to see inmates. It was ten by ten and had a wooden table and a few chairs. There were panels of glass in a wall so guards could look in. As Cindy waited for Richard to be brought down, her heart raced. She paced back and forth, her hands trembling. When Richard got there, the guard uncuffed him and he sat at the table. They were like two school kids, laughing and giggling. Under the desk she raised her foot and put it on Richard’s thigh; his eyes bulged. He couldn’t believe he was actually sitting with one of the jurors who had handed him a ticket to the death room. After a few minutes, Cindy later related, the attorney went to look for a bathroom. When he left and Cindy was sure there were no guards about, she stood and quickly gave Richard a deep kiss as he groped her with his huge hands. She nearly passed out, she was so excited. When later asked if she was afraid to be alone with Richard, she said, “No, absolutely not. He’d never hurt me.” When the lawyer returned, Cindy sat down, breathless, her heart pounding. On subsequent visits to the jail, as she helped with Richard’s legal problems, she says, she was able to have more contact visits and was actually alone with Richard.

When recently asked if she believes Richard is innocent, Doreen said, “I’ve always fervently believed in his innocence! I can’t even conceive of his being guilty of the terrible things they say he did. He received an unfair trial with very inadequate legal representation. Someday the truth will be known.

Julian was diagnosed with bone cancer in the spring of 1991. The cancer spread quickly and he died of it on August 16 of that year.

Robert still lives in Morenci, Arizona, working in its mines. He is divorced now and sees his two daughters on weekends. When he can, he drives to El Paso to see his mother and his siblings. He has stopped using drugs and avoids trouble at all costs.

Cousin Mike, the person most people believe put Richard on the path he traveled, died of a massive heart attack in April of 1995. He was overweight and still haunted by the ghosts of things he’d done in Vietnam, regularly using heroin. The Army gave Mike a hero’s burial with a twenty-one-gun salute.

Gere Russell, out of San Diego, is Richard’s appeals lawyer.

In early 1995, when Richard was coming back to San Quentin from court appearances on the Pan matter in San Francisco, the prison’s metal detector went off. The guards searched him thoroughly and couldn’t find any contraband, yet the metal detector still sounded when they passed him through it again. Officials put him in front of an X-ray machine and discovered he had a handcuff key and a hypodermic needle in a little vial hidden in his anal cavity, a very common practice in jails around the world known as “keister-ing.

When Richard was asked recently how to avoid becoming the victim of a serial murderer, he said, “You can’t. Once they are focused on you, have you where you are vulnerable, you’re all theirs. Dahmer used to invite you home for a drink, and the next thing you knew, he’s eating you. Same thing with John Gacy: he’d put on his clown face, do a couple of tricks, and suddenly he had you handcuffed and in his control. What people can do is not trust someone you don’t know and to always be aware of what’s going on around you. When you drop your guard—that’s when a serial killer moves.

Thursday, June 27th of 1996, Richard Ramirez was moved out of the adjustment center to San Quentin’s East block, “Death Row,” where he would be allowed regular “contact visits” with his family and friends—the first since he’d been arrested.

Richard had taken the Bimbo off his visiting list and had told Doreen that if he was moved to East block he would marry her. Since the first time she’d seen Richard on TV being taken away from the angry mob on Hubbard Street, she had wanted to marry him, to fight his battles, to be known as Mrs. Richard Ramirez.

Marriages on death row occur every four months, and Richard promised her he would tell the prison to put him down for it. The next time they’d be able to wed, he said, was October 3rd.

According to the California Penal Code, prisoners have the legal right to marry. The prison approved Richard’s marriage, and his and Doreen’s names were added to the list of ten inmates marrying that day, three from death row. It was quickly pointed out to a curious journalist by San Quentin’s public relations department that prisoners on death row do not have the right to conjugal visits.

She drove to San Francisco for them and picked out two simple wedding bands, hers gold and Richard’s platinum. When later asked why Richard told Doreen not to buy a gold ring for him, he said, “Because Satanists don’t wear gold.

The ceremony took place at 11 A.M. Mr. L. Weister, a civil servant would perform the ceremony. He was a tall robust man with a big, healthy red face and thick gray hair. Doreen was very nervous. Richard wanted to get the whole thing over with and get back to his cell. An author and one of Richard’s attorneys joined the wedding party. In front of an Alpine mural one of the inmates had painted, the ceremony took place. It was short and sweet—they did not say “until death do us part.” They exchanged vows, wedding rings, and it was over in two minutes. Richard gave Doreen a peck on the lips.

Carlo: Yeah. You were seen in court once with a Pentagram inside your hand and you held it up and showed it to the press and the audience. Why did you do that? Did you feel that it would protect you, or were you just making a statement that you were in alliance with the Devil? Ramirez: Yes, it was a statement that I was in alliance with ... the evil that is inherent in human nature. And ... that was who I was.

Carlo: The phenomenon of serial killers—is it a sexual thing, too, Richard? Is sex part of the crimes? Ramirez: Sex? For some serial killers, sure. For some it is the very act of killing another human being that is ... that ... uh ... that is sexual to them. It’s a bloodlust, I guess you can say.

Ramirez: Yes. Serial killers and most killers in general have a dead conscience. Carlo: When you say a dead conscience that means they don’t respond— Ramirez: No morals, no scruples, no conscience. They are ... uh ... they sometimes ... some of them don’t even care if they live or die themselves and they are just the walking dead.

Ramirez: There is no protection against a mass murderer, if you will. A mass murderer will come onto the scene—whether it be a post office, supermarket, restaurant—and open fire. Unless the bullets miss you, you will become a statistic. A serial killer, if he’s looking for certain type of women, certain type of victims, and you happen to match his preference ... it is possible that you could get away. You could even help in apprehending him, but it is said serial killers are very intelligent, otherwise they would not— Carlo: They would not be able to commit crimes over a long period of time. Ramirez: Exactly. What constitutes a serial killer right now is four murders or more, according to the FBI. Four murders is not that many but that’s what categorizes a serial killer. I suppose to avoid being a victim is— Carlo:—Being aware of the environment, being aware what’s around you? Ramirez:—Taking precautions, locking your doors, having your keys ready when you open doors ... being on guard. Carlo: Your keys ready when? Ramirez: When you open doors. Carlo: Look over your shoulder? Ramirez: Yes. Of course, one cannot live one’s life like that in today’s society, always aware. Especially if you haven’t already been the victim of a crime. When you are the victim of a crime, a violent crime such as an assault or mugging, then throughout your life that will be at the back of your mind. Those types of people are more aware than those who have never been a victim of any type of crime. But, sure, a serial killer takes opportunities, in the victims being in the right place at the right time. He takes advantage of that.

Carlo: Do you feel that evil can be reincarnated? Ramirez: I hope so. [laughs]

Carlo: Give you a sense of well-being. Do you think young children, young teenagers, actually, should be kept away from music like that? Ramirez: No, because I believe that a person that ... a person that is destined or inclined to be evil will be evil with or without music. Music I don’t believe has a part in anything. Carlo: Even young, impressionable minds? Ramirez: Yes, yes ... because I believe that it is the environment that will determine who a child will grow up to be.

Publisher's Note Richard Ramirez died on June 7, 2013 from complications related to lymphoma. He was 53 years old and had been on death row for 23 years.

Clark said it was stupid not to put his father on the stand. Daniel told Richard he had spoken to his mother and she had cried and begged him to convince her youngest-born to put up a defense. That seemed to strike a chord somewhere deep inside of Richard. He said he would like to talk with Dr. Jo ’Ellan Dimitrius and ask how the jury might react if he didn’t put up a defense, didn’t take the stand and deny the charges.

Richard, for the first time, realized that to people like him, people of the night, he was a hero; he was somebody. He liked that. For his whole life he’d been a tall, lanky nobody, just another angry-eyed hungry face in a hungry crowd, but now people stopped—people paid attention, stared, and pointed. He vowed next time he was in court he’d show a different side to the world. He figured no matter what he did they were going to convict him and kill him, so he decided to take control.

Halpin finished his summation on July 21. The people had presented 139 witnesses and 537 pieces of evidence.

On August 14, juror Phyllis Singletary didn’t show up. Judge Tynan brought the jury into court and told the jury they couldn’t continue without Ms. Singletary and court was recessed to the following day. In fact the judge had learned that Ms. Singletary had been found murdered.

Cynthia Haden learned about the murder from juror Choclate Harris, who called her at her home that evening. Quickly, word of Singletary’s death traveled to all the jurors and alternates; and that night few of them slept well. They were all haunted by the prospect of Richard Ramirez being responsible in some way. They had seen his groupies and the Satanists parading in and out of the courtroom daily for the last fourteen months. Charles Manson had, they all knew, sent people to kill Sharon Tate and her friends and Mr. and Mrs. LaBianca. After all, this was Southern California. Anything was possible.

Later that day it was revealed that James C. Melton, age fifty-one, had murdered Ms. Singletary. He was her live-in boyfriend, an abusive man with an explosive temper. Sheriffs detectives who learned about his whereabouts through a phone call he’d made raided a hotel where Melton was holed up. Melton saw them coming, and before the deputies could do anything, he put the gun he’d killed Phyllis with to his head and pulled the trigger, killing himself instantly. The deputies found a note in the hotel room in Melton’s handwriting. In it, he admitted to killing Phyllis—saying he had shot her twice in the chest over “domestic disagreements.

The detectives later learned that Phyllis had told Melton that she felt sorry for Richard Ramirez because he hadn’t gotten proper representation with the Hernandezes. Melton thought Ramirez was a mad dog that needed killing. An argument ensued, which grew into a senseless murderous rage.

Richard was handed over to heavily armed, grim-faced San Quentin officials. He was put in the A/C block, known as Reception. His prison number was E37101. All prisoners—except death row inmates—were kept in Reception while they were evaluated and it was decided where they would do their actual time. Richard still had the Pan assault and murder charges against him, and until that case had been adjudicated, he would not be moved to E block after his obligatory three-month stay in Reception. He would, after evaluation, be transferred to the San Francisco County Jail, to be closer to court for hearings and motions on the Pan matter. Lawyers from the San Francisco public defender’s office would be representing Richard in the Pan incident. Richard was put in another six-by-eight-foot cell with an aluminum toilet, a sink, and a bunk bed. Prisoners in reception did not have access to phones, and their visits were for only two hours a week. In E block, the inmates were allowed twenty-four hours a week for visits, and Reception inmates were kept in the cell nearly twenty-four hours a day. Richard was assigned cell number 3AC8.

Cindy Haden was having a hard time keeping Richard Ramirez off her mind. He was all she could think of—his intense black eyes, his wavy black hair, his absolute and undeniable arrogance and danger. She dreamt of him nearly every night, often wondering if he had put some kind of spell on her. She would later say, “The truth of the matter is, I think I fell in love with him the first time I saw him. I know it’s nuts and everything, but I couldn’t help it; it was just one of those things.

When she got home, Cindy wrote Richard a long letter, saying how sorry she was about the death sentence, and tried to explain that she, and the jury as a whole, had had no legal alternative but to vote for death. She mailed the letter and anxiously waited for a response, which took only four days. Richard wrote her back and said he understood, that she shouldn’t feel bad about anything, not to beat herself up, and asked her to write him some more and maybe even come and visit. Cindy was thrilled when she got his letter and immediately wrote him back.

In February 1990, Ramirez was moved to the San Francisco County Jail, where he had access to a phone and a television and interacted with other inmates. Almost immediately, he got into a fight over the phones and beat up some guy who’d called him a punk. Richard knew he couldn’t let anyone abuse him in any way, for the abuse would surely get worse and more than likely end up as an assault against him. He was quick to let everyone in the jail know if you bothered him, you’d better be ready to fight to the end. This resulted in his being left alone and he could do his time without being bothered.

When Cindy left Richard that day, she felt truly alive for the first time. As she flew back to Los Angeles, she thought about moving to San Francisco so she could be closer to Richard; for the first time she realized why she had left her husband and Portland, Oregon: she felt that being with Richard, as near to him as possible, “was my destiny.

In August of 1993, Frank Salerno, the famous bulldog of Sheriffs Homicide, retired from police work for good.

Cindy Haden continued visiting Richard every chance she got. She’d come mostly on weekends, when Doreen was visiting, too. The two women began seeing each other at the jail. Doreen felt Cindy was a “low-down, hypocritical bitch” who could have hung the jury. Whenever Doreen saw Cindy at the jail, she would narrow her eyes and regard her with utter disdain. When Doreen asked Richard why the hell he would allow that Benedict Arnold to visit, he said she was a juror and might be of help if he chose to appeal his conviction. After a few months of Cindy driving all the way to San Francisco every weekend, she began thinking she would move north permanently so she could be close to Richard. She was in love with him and had pictures of him in frames on her night table and on the wall opposite her bed. Cindy had told her parents about her relationship with Richard and had actually brought her mom and dad to the jail so they could meet him. When Richard first sat across from them in the visiting booth, Cindy said, “Mom, Dad, this is Richard,” as Richard smiled shyly. “I know you’ve heard some bad things about him, but he’s got a lot of good points, too.” Richard sheepishly said hello, waved, and began talking to Cindy’s father, who, like his father, had worked for a railroad. They had “something in common,” as Cindy later put it. Cindy agreed to do several national talk shows—“Donahue” once and “Geraldo” twice—and told the world, in a very passionate voice, that Richard Ramirez had had improper counsel and his convictions should be overturned.

Some of the groupies who had been visiting Richard in Los Angeles now began to go to San Francisco to see him. Doreen was unhappy with all the competition she had. She’d complain to him that they were taking visiting time away from her, but Richard enjoyed all the female attention. Never before had he had so much female admiration—and he reveled in it, thrived upon it. Cindy, unlike Doreen, didn’t mind Richard’s other visitors, as long as none of them bothered her. But there was one woman Cindy and Doreen came to refer to as “the bimbo,” who did, in fact, start getting aggressive with both Cindy and Doreen. The Bimbo, a heavy-set, well-built belligerent blonde with frizzy hair, and a big nose, began to challenge Cindy and Doreen when she ran into them at the jail. “He’s mine. Stay away from him or I’ll break your face,” she’d say regularly. Cindy stood up to her, telling her to fuck off, but Doreen did not have Cindy’s combative nature and would take the Bimbo’s threats, taunts, and admonitions. The Bimbo began regularly to step on Doreen’s toes and call her “Dogreen.” It got to the point that Doreen began asking the jail guards to walk her to her car, she was so afraid of the Bimbo. Doreen again complained to Richard, but he didn’t stop the Bimbo from coming to the jail. Several of the Ramirez women would bring phallic-shaped vegetables with them on their visits and would sexually excite themselves with the vegetables while Ramirez watched. For many of these women Richard Ramirez was a turn-on.

Tynan gave the defense two weeks to prepare their case and set a firm court date of May 1 to begin.

Richard didn’t want to put on any defense at all. He had continually told his lawyers the trial was a circus and a farce. He refused to take it seriously or give it the dignity of putting on a defense. Clark strongly urged him to plead insanity and try to show the court through expert medical witnesses that he was crazy, but Richard told him he would never plead insanity. He had his pride, his dignity.

Clark and Daniel spoke to Ruth and implored her to try and change her brother’s mind. She came up from El Paso to visit Richard that weekend, but even she couldn’t alter his resolve not to put on a defense.

Against Richard’s wishes, Daniel and Ray Clark went ahead and put together as good a defense as they could muster without their client’s cooperation, support, or input. They hired private detectives to dig up more information on Solano, and they had found several other thieves who’d dealt with him. They had also located a burglar who used to do burglaries with Richard, Sandra Hotchkiss, who was also the woman the police tried to entrap Solano with.

A representative from the public defender’s office assigned to Richard’s case went to see him Sunday evening. Alan Adashek was a tall, thin man with a long face, black hair, and thick wire-rimmed glasses. This case would be the biggest one he had ever tried, and he didn’t want to make any mistakes, knowing everything he did would be scrutinized and reported in the press. Adashek was a careful man who liked to be in control. This would put him on an inevitable collision course with Ramirez.

At this time actor Sean Penn had been sentenced to thirty-two days in the Los Angeles County Jail for punching out a photographer. Because of his celebrity status he had to be kept in protective custody and was lodged in the cell next to Ramirez. At the time he was still married to Madonna and when she came to visit Sean, she saw Ramirez as she stepped off the elevator. When Sean was brought to the visiting booth, the first thing she said to Sean was, “Who’s that good-looking guy?” Sitting down, smiling mischievously, Sean said, “That good-looking guy is the Night Stalker, ... wanna meet him?” “Gives me the goose bumps,” Madonna said—“but yeah, I’d like to meet him,” she joked. “I don’t think so,” he said, laughing

Richard wrote back: Dear Sean: Stay in touch and hit ’em again. Richard Ramirez, 666. Penn said Ramirez masturbated excessively. “He was like an animal in heat. He had pictures of his victims on his cell walls. He kept them up with toothpaste.

During the course of Sean’s stay in the jail, Ramirez asked Penn for his autograph. Sean wrote: Dear Richard: It’s impossible to be incarcerated and not feel a kinship with your fellow inmates. Well, Richard, I’ve done the impossible. I feel absolutely no kinship with you. Sean Penn

When Clark and Daniel visited Richard in the county jail that day, he said he didn’t want to go forward with the trial and his lawyers should demand a mistrial. There was no way, he insisted, the jurors could not be influenced by the murder of a fellow juror. He pointed out that the case was not about forgery, or a stock swindle; it was about murder, and he was being tried for murder. “There’s no fucking way they won’t be affected against me!” Clark, Daniel, and Salinas agreed wholeheartedly, and they promised Richard they’d prepare a motion for mistrial. Amid a packed courtroom, Clark told the judge that the defense wanted the jury to have a period of at least a week to recuperate. If the judge wasn’t inclined to give them a week, Clark asked that the jurors be polled to see if they could still be impartial. He had been in contact with two psychiatrists, Dr. Jo ’Ellan Dimitrius and Dr. Carlo Webber, and they had both unequivocally advised him it would be wrong and improper to let this jury sit in judgment of a murder defendant without their being polled. He reminded the judge that the jurors had become “as close as siblings, husbands and wives.” Halpin didn’t agree. He didn’t want any delay and polling the jurors would just serve “to stir up their emotions.” Tynan decided to bring out the jury foreman and get his opinion about the capability of the jury to go on with an impartial deliberation. Foreman Rodriguez was summoned and Tynan queried him about the jury’s ability to move forward. Rodriguez, a mustachioed man with very black hair, said, “I feel it is somewhat tranquil, but it is—I feel that we can probably continue today.” “They all seem to be able to carry out their duties, then, as jurors?” asked the judge. “Right. Everyone appears to have it behind them.” “I am delighted to hear that,” Tynan proclaimed, an audible sigh of relief coming from him, and called for the jury to be brought out. He announced he was going to allow the trial to go forward. He looked at the defense table and said, “If there’s any objection from the defense, I’ll hear it now.” Richard leaned forward and said: “I have an objection. I think that is fucked up!” The bailiff closed in. The press, not knowing what Richard would do next, leaned forward. Daniel calmed Richard and told Tynan the defense objected strenuously to the deliberations going on with this jury.

Tynan ruled they would continue with this jury, Richard scowled at the judge and moved about in his chair anxiously, chains rattling. The judge told the jury he was allowing their deliberations go on and read a prepared statement to them, imploring them to put Ms. Singletary’s murder behind them. He reiterated her death had nothing to do with the trial and told them about James Melton, his suicide and the note. At 10:45, the jury recommenced its deliberations.

On the thirty-first, Richard listened, over a loudspeaker in the court holding cell he despised so much, as the hearing to poll the jury took place. Clark reiterated the defense’s position. Yochelson stood for the people, saying Ms. Singletary’s murder had happened two weeks earlier. It made no sense to rehash the tragedy and stir things up—after they apparently had been able to put it behind them. Tynan said he thought letting the defense question the jury about Singletary’s death would be a fatal mistake, and he denied the motion. In his cell, pacing back and forth, Richard cursed the judge and told his jailers the trial was a joke; he spit and he cursed and kicked the bars. Daniel told the court, Richard refused also to attend a second motion to be heard on September 5. The judge said it would be all right, but he would have to sign another waiver. Deputy Warden asked to speak to the judge at a sidebar and told Tynan that Richard was cursing and yelling and had stated he’d fight before he allowed deputies to bring him into court. Tynan announced that for security reasons, the defendant would sign the waiver on September 5. The jury’s deliberations moved on. On September 5, when Ramirez was led into court, he was subdued. Doreen was in her usual place, her eyes riveted to him. There was not an empty seat in the house. Ramirez signed the waiver form and was taken to the holding pen. The defense had decided to seek a mistrial based on several points: one, the death of Singletary, the other, that the juror who had replaced her, Mary Herrera, had two brothers in law enforcement who’d been shot to death, which she had failed to mention on her initial questionnaire. The judge refused to grant a new trial, court was recessed, and the jury continued its deliberations. On September 14, court was convened because of Arturo Hernandez. He had been ordered to call the court daily but had failed to do so on the sixth through the fourteenth. Judge Tynan found him in contempt and issued a body attachment with $5000 bail. On the eighteenth, Arturo showed up in court. Tynan bawled him out for not calling in as he had agreed to. He didn’t want to hear any excuses, he just wanted to know how Arturo pled. The lawyer said he was guilty. Tynan fined him $2400 or twenty-four days in jail. He gave him until September 24 to come up with the money. The judge then had Arturo remanded to do a day in jail for a September 1 contempt charge.

At 10:50 on September 20, the jury announced they had reached a verdict—a unanimous decision. Daniel Hernandez and Ray Clark were summoned. Richard was brought from the jail. He refused to change into a suit and wore jail blues. The press packed the courtroom. All the networks interrupted broadcasts to announce that a verdict had been reached. At 2:12, everyone was gathered in the packed courtroom. Carrillo and Salerno sat in their usual places. Clark told Judge Tynan that Richard did not want to be present for the verdict. Halpin said he wanted him there. Tynan refused to have Richard chained up to hear the verdict. It wouldn’t be good for the jury to see him that way before the penalty stage. He ruled Richard could hear the verdict from the court holding cell, citing “the Ninth Circuit of California v. Spainer. ”He queried Richard on the record, asking him four times if he relinquished his right to be present during the verdicts, and each time Richard said yes. He signed a waiver and was taken back to the holding cell.

He read each juror’s name: Cynthia Haden, Martha Salcido, Verbe Sutton, Alfredo Carrillo, Arthur Johnson, Lillian Sagron, Felipe Rodriguez, Mary Herrera, Choclate Harris, Arlena Wallace, Don McGee, and Shirley Zelaya.

Richard said he wouldn’t talk about anything but the convictions. Carrillo asked if it would be all right if they taped what he said. He said no. They then began asking him about the crimes and how he did them. Richard gave them, the detectives later said—which Richard vehemently denies—the details of how he worked, lived, and avoided capture for so long. The detectives say he told them he capered in stolen cars, which he sometimes left in the parking lot of the Greyhound Bus Terminal. He always stashed any weapon he had in the terminal lockers until he realized the car might be staked out. At that point he began driving the cars around the block a few times before he retrieved his weapons. According to the detectives, they began talking about the actual murders, beginning with Vincow. Richard told them what he knew. They weren’t sure if he was bragging and making things up, but he seemed sincere, they thought. For the next week, as Richard ate sweets, he told the two detectives the details of what he said had taken place. Both detectives enjoyed talking to him. “He had a likable side to him that was easy to warm to,” Carrillo later said. Their meetings were brought to a halt on November 16, when Richard was taken to San Quentin. The last time Salerno and Carrillo saw him, he asked them if they were going to come to his execution. Carrillo said he wasn’t sure... didn’t think so. “You bet I’m coming,” Salerno said, dead serious, looking Richard right in the eye.

Richard was taken to San Quentin ten days after he’d been sentenced. The authorities viewed him as a security risk: they knew he had many female admirers, and they knew about the Satanists who had regularly visited the trial, and there were always rumors that someone was going to try and break him out. For security reasons it was decided it would be better if he was flown to Quentin rather than driven.

Halpin introduced photographs of a jail cell Richard had stayed in, where he’d drawn pentagrams and “666” in his blood on the floor. Deputy sheriff Neulhad had been on suicide watch for Richard when he was first booked into the county jail’s hospital wing, on the day of his arrest. He stated he saw Richard sitting on the toilet bowl with some blood in his hand, and that he noted the 666 and the pentagram on the ground. “I watched him with his left hand take blood from his right palm and write the numbers and that five-pointed star directly on the floor in front of him.” He testified he then advised his supervisor of this, and photographs were taken of Richard’s artistic statements. There was no cross.

Dep. Daniel Laws, the last witness for the prosecution, replaced Frank on the stand, stated he’d been on P.M. watch at the jail’s hospital wing and had guarded Richard for about a year and a half altogether. He stated that on October 30, Richard had beckoned him to his cell, saying, “ ‘Laws, come here.’ ” “What did you do?” Halpin asked the deputy. “I went over.” “What did the defendant do?” “He showed me two pictures of a homicide victim.” “Can you describe them?” “The first picture was of a woman [Maxine Zazzara]. The photograph showed from the face down. She was nude. “And then the second photograph had the same woman lying on the bed with her head turned away from the camera.” “Did he—did the defendant say anything at that time?” “Not at that time.” “Did you ask him why he was showing you the pictures?” “Yes. I did.” “What did he say?” “He said, ‘People come up here and call me a punk and I show them the photographs and tell them there is blood behind the Night Stalker and they go away all pale.’ ” Halpin handed the deputy two photographs of Mrs. Zazzara and he identified them as the ones Richard had shown him. Halpin now moved into evidence a four-page list, then announced, “The state rests.

In the morning, after Clark and Daniel Hernandez had had a chance to discuss the matter, Clark told Judge Tynan he thought that, because the people had clear, accurate information that Solano had dealt with other thieves and knew he was lying on the stand, his testimony should be stricken altogether. Clark told the court a woman named Sandra Hotchkiss had a wire on when she went to Solano’s house and he talked on tape about buying items from people other than Richard Ramirez. Hernandez said the people having information that Solano was lying could be seen as “subornation of perjury.” He had spoken to Ms. Hotchkiss and she’d claimed Solano was wrestled to the ground by task force detectives and dragged into the house, where he was beaten and coerced into signing a form giving the police the right to search his home.

According to Julian Ramirez, his youngest son was in El Paso for the communion party of Ruth’s daughter Gloria during the time he was supposed to have attacked Mrs. Bell, Nettie Lang, and Carol Kyle. Julian told Daniel over the phone he would be willing to come up to Los Angeles, take the stand, and swear on a stack of Bibles it was true. Julian insisted he had a picture with Richard, himself, Mercedes, and his granddaughter in her communion dress standing in the front yard of the Hacienda Heights house. When Daniel and Ray Clark went to the jail to tell Richard of his father’s willingness to help, and about the photographs, Richard threw a fit, saying he didn’t want to put his father through that. He yelled and screamed in a temper tantrum. Ruth came up to Los Angeles with Joseph and they tried to convince Richard to put up a fight, but Richard yelled and screamed at them, too. Ruth begged him, but he stayed adamant and unmoving. “There will be no defense!” he said. Monday morning Ray Clark, with large circles from stress under his eyes, asked Judge Tynan for an ex parte meeting in the judge’s chambers with defense counsel and the defendant. Halpin objected, saying at this juncture the prosecution had the right to be privy to all proceedings. Tynan disagreed and moved the proceedings to his chambers, minus the prosecutor.

Richard was in a foul mood. When Tynan asked him if he wanted a defense, he yelled “No!” and cursed the judge, calling him a motherfucker. He told him that he thought the whole trial was “a scheme, a joke,” and that he wouldn’t take part in it. He said that he would put up a fight not to come to court. “They’ll have to bind me and fucking drag me in the courtroom. I won’t go.” Tynan said that could be arranged. He quickly saw the futility of trying to reason with Richard and ordered the proceedings back into court, after Daniel and Ray asked for a little time to talk with their client. In open court, a motion to drop the sodomy charges in the Sophie Dickman matter got under way. Clark argued that according to Ms. Dickman, Richard was humping her tailbone, “and tailbone does not equal anus, which does not equal sodomy.” Halpin said, “In fact, as the court knows, penetration is not located in the definition of either rape or sodomy in the penal code of this state.” Clark and Halpin argued as Judge Tynan listened and then ruled the charges would remain. Court was recessed until 1:30, when Daniel and Ray Clark had to let the court know if there was going to be any defense or not. As Richard was being led from the courtroom, he turned and faced the press, an angry snarl on his face. He said, “Media: sensation-seeking parasites,” and was led from the court. The press was taken aback for a few beats, then hurried to phone in this latest defiance of Richard Ramirez.

When court resumed, Clark told the judge Richard had changed his mind and was now thinking about putting on a “limited defense,” but he wanted to speak with Dr. Dimitrius. Reluctantly, Tynan agreed to give the defense until morning to decide what direction they were going to take.

Carrillo asked him about his belief in Satan and Richard readily admitted that he followed the ways of Satan, walked the left-hand path, and wholly believed in the existence of Satan and his omnipotence over all things in this world and the spirit world. “It’s he who really rules,” said Richard. Gil turned the conversation back to El Paso, where Richard said he’d been brought up a Catholic, and told Gil his mother took him to church all the time.

For the last few years Richard had been mailing Ruth costume jewelry, which he’d told her he’d bought from some fence. Ruth kept it all in a box in the garage. Despite the accusations that her brother was a thief, it had never occurred to her that the jewelry might be stolen and she should hide it.

When Adashek first spoke to Richard at the jail, Richard was despondent, humble, and shy. He said he didn’t think he’d ever get a fair trial, that everyone already felt he was guilty, and he wanted to plead guilty to get it all over as fast as he could. Adashek advised him not to plead guilty and to fight the case. Richard said he’d think about it and was then taken back to his cell.

The judge then read the verdict sheets, announced they were in order, and gave them to Clerk Josephine Williams to be read out loud. Beginning with the Vincow charge, the jury voted guilty on every one of the forty-six counts.

No one in the audience was surprised. Doreen stood and, crying, hurried from the courtroom. Judge Tynan, at the defense’s request, polled the jury, and each one said he’d heard the verdicts read out loud and agreed with them. It was over. The judge thanked them and said they would now be moving to the penalty phase. He asked them to step into the jury room. Judge Tynan asked the defense how long they would need to prepare for the penalty phase. Clark said three days. Daniel asked for at least two weeks, saying they were bringing people in from out of town. Tynan told Daniel he should have already lined up any witnesses and gave the defense one week to prepare. The jury was now brought out and told the penalty phase would take place on the twenty-ninth. The judge reminded them not to talk with anyone in the media. He offered them the use of the back elevator to avoid the waiting reporters and cameras.

On the day of sentencing, the defense announced they would not be putting any witnesses on the stand on the defendant’s behalf, calling it “a tactical decision.” Richard would not be taking the stand, either. Tynan asked Richard if he was waiving his right to put on a defense and to speak on his behalf. Ramirez said yes.

It’s like nothing else; you can’t explain its intensity in words. To have that power over life—nothing is more sexually exciting; it’s the ultimate, something very few people experience.