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Authors: Vincent Bugliosi,Bruce Henderson

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CHAPTER 18
 

H
ONOLULU

 

T
WO WEEKS BEFORE
C
HRISTMAS
1974, Buck Walker appeared in court to be sentenced on the MDA drug charge that had caused him to flee with Jennifer to Palmyra seven months earlier. U.S. District Court Judge Samuel P. King delayed sentencing, however, when court-appointed defense attorney Jon T. Miho made a surprise announcement.

“Mr. Walker is willing to take a polygraph test with respect to the disappearances of Mr. and Mrs. Malcolm Graham,” the lawyer told the judge. “We believe the results will be of assistance in our discussions with the Government.”

Assistant U.S. Attorney William Eggers agreed to the delay.

Soon after his client was escorted from the courtroom by armed marshals, Miho met in the hallway with reporters. “While a polygraph is not admissible in court,” he explained, “results favorable to Mr. Walker could be used for plea-bargaining purposes.”

It didn’t take long for Jennifer’s attorney, Mark Casden, to go public with her agreement to take a polygraph.

Jennifer had made bail on November 13 when her widowed aunt (Uncle Buddy had passed away two years earlier) posted a security bond listing her $120,000 Oahu home as collateral. Since then, Jennifer had been living with friends on the Big Island, but Buck had remained in custody in Halawa Jail since his arrest.

During Christmas week, prosecutors huddled with an FBI polygraph expert and came up with a list of proposed questions to ask both defendants. As previously agreed, the list was submitted to the defense attorneys for their review.

Within days, Buck Walker withdrew his offer to take a polygraph. It would later be hotly disputed whether Jennifer also backed off or the Government decided to administer the test only if both defendants cooperated.

While the legal skirmishing continued, the press trailed after the Palmyra case like ants scenting watermelon juice at a family picnic. Of course, the bare facts were intrinsically compelling—mysterious disappearances and a possible double murder set against the alluring backdrop of an uninhabited tropical island, an ocean voyage on a stolen yacht, the suspenseful capture of the two lovers who were the prime suspects.

Coverage of the story regularly made the top of the evening TV news in Hawaii, and was splashed across newspapers in bold, fronpage headlines, often accompanied by pictures of the suspects and the victims, and provocative sidebar articles. “Woman Seized in Yacht Theft,” headlined the October 30 edition of the
Honolulu Advertiser
in the first article on the case. “Is My Brother Dead? Mac Graham’s Sister Asks FBI,” read a headline in the November 4
Advertiser
. “Palmyra Searchers Return but Won’t Talk About Findings,” announced the
Star-Bulletin
on the same day.

In San Diego, the case also made the front pages. “South Seas Dream Trip Tainted,” reported the
San Diego Union
on October 30. “Yacht Wife’s Premonition Recalled,” revealed the
Tribune
on November 1.
People
magazine, in a November edition, featured “A Couple Who Loved the Sea Vanish in It,” an illustrated multipage story that referred to Jennifer as a “scruffy social dropout” and Buck as a “tattooed drifter.”

In Hawaii, at least, the names and faces of Mac and Muff Graham, Jennifer Jenkins, and Buck Walker were etched in the public mind. When Jennifer finally went to trial in mid-1975, every single member of her eight-woman, four-man jury admitted to having read, viewed, or heard about the case from radio, television, and newspaper accounts.

 

O
N
J
ANUARY
7, 1975, one week before Jennifer and Buck were scheduled to be tried together for the theft of the
Sea Wind
, Judge King granted a motion by Jennifer’s defense attorney to sever their cases. They would be tried separately.

That day in court, both were present. Jennifer sat next to Buck, and they conversed intimately in the hushed tones of lovers who missed one another and were deeply worried about their future together.

At one point, Jennifer leaned over to her lawyer and said, “Buck has asked me to go first.”

“What do you mean?” her lawyer asked.

“He wants me to be tried first. I said fine. Tell the judge.”

It did not dawn on her that Buck might want her to be the try-out for his performance.

On January 13, Walker stood before Judge King on the old drug charge. He was given the maximum five-year sentence in federal prison.

S
EATTLE
M
ARCH
1975

 

K
IT NEVER
expected to hear from Buck Walker, not ever. His letter arrived with the abruptness of a bolt of lightning. She sat now in her kitchen with his eight-page handwritten missive in her hands, utterly unprepared emotionally for what it had to say.

The envelope carried a March 11, 1975, Hawaii postmark. Jennifer had enclosed a short note, explaining, “Buck wrote to you some time back while we were in dry dock,” but the letter had been “lost and forgotten in the shuffle.”

In the upper-right-hand corner of the letter, Buck had penned, in his neat writing, “October—Hawaii.”

Dear Kit,

It’s difficult to write this, as the news we have to convey is very sad for us, and we know it will be so for you. I’ve made numerous attempts in this regard and each has always seemed inadequate. Even now I can find no words that seem appropriate to the circumstances. We are torn in many ways in this matter, yet we feel a deep obligation to communicate with you.

My name is Roy Allen and my wife is Jennifer. We’ve recently returned to Hawaii from Palmyra, where we met Mac and Muff, and although we were fellow inhabitants for only a couple of months on a remote atoll, we came to care very much for them.

Please prepare yourself for the worst.

Mac and Muff disappeared August 30th, and we haven’t seen them since. We believe they died in a boating accident. They had gone fishing in the afternoon and never returned. The next day we found their overturned dinghy washed up on the beach.

All else that follows is an elaboration of circumstances, as well as our own thoughts and feelings. I hope you’ll bear with my clumsiness in the telling.

The image of Mac that, for me, signifies his essence, is drawn from the day I first saw him. He was standing out on the bowsprit of the
Sea Wind
, directing Muff at the helm as they glided into the lagoon. He waved and smiled…

 

Kit felt bile rising. How was it possible for Mac’s and Muff’s murderer to have the incredible boldness to write her any kind of letter, much less this kind? she wondered. The very thought made her light-headed and caused her to perspire. She had to pause for a minute before continuing to read on.

…as I was rowing close by. I offered to help in getting the
Sea Wind
secured and he replied, “Nope, I can handle it.” In this simple refusal, he seemed to imply much more; that as much as he appreciated the offer, he couldn’t forgo the pleasure of doing it himself! There was an indescribable look about him when he smiled that I’ve felt always permitted him to say anything whatever with perfect graciousness.

 

Walker told of his admiration for Mac’s “self-sufficiency,” and Mac’s “utter love and regard” for Muff. The two couples were “friendly and neighborly,” Walker waxed on, sharing fish from their daily catches. He alluded to their having fun together at Jennifer’s birthday party, “singing Happy Birthday and talking away a long evening.”

Kit’s eyes flitted back to the words “friendly” and “neighborly.” Her hands trembled.

It may seen a little strange to you how we could derive so much enjoyment from simple pleasures. Of course, the setting is important. Palmyra is enchanting and mystical. There is a natural beauty that numbs the senses going hand in hand with hard realities: poisonous fish, sharks, scorpions, spiders, rats, mosquitoes, etc. There is the fear of serious injury because the nearest outside help is days away, and on the other hand, an eagerness for the challenge.

The humidity is usually uncomfortable, making a delight of a cold bath from stored rainwater. There is a sameness to the days, a silence composed of only sounds of nature, the pulse of the surf, the wind through the coconut trees, the nesting birds taking flight; an acute sense of being alone. Sharing a meal, a drink, a smoke, a conversation, playing chess, greetings as you pass going in opposite directions, all take on a pronounced flavor.

The chess games were a special treat, except that Muff didn’t play. Mac and I were fairly evenly matched, while Jennifer beat us both on quite a few occasions.

 

Walker mentioned the planned trip to Fanning. He said Mac had invited him and Jennifer for a “bon voyage dinner” the night before their scheduled departure. He told of arriving at the
Sea Wind
’s anchorage around six o’clock, and not finding Mac and Muff. “Mac had mentioned earlier in the day that they were going fishing in the afternoon,” Walker said, so he and Jennifer were not initially worried. But “the later it became, the more we worried.”

Buck went on to tell of their searching for Mac and Muff in the morning and finding their overturned Zodiac not far away, “washed up on the beach.” They searched for three days, he said, but found no other signs of Mac and Muff.

Kit tried desperately to concentrate on the details presented in Buck’s rendition, rather than give in to her growing urge to ball up the patronizing letter and chuck it into the garbage.

Jennifer and I hardly spoke except for calling out for Mac and Muff, and we didn’t get much sleep. In retrospect, I think we were in a mild state of shock at the loss. It was unbelievable. I can’t say how much we miss them!

 

They stayed on the island another week or ten days, Walker went on, then decided to take the
Sea Wind
to Fanning, towing the
Iola
, and “report the matter there.” But on the narrow passage out of the Palmyra lagoon, the
Iola
“crunched up on a coral head.” When they couldn’t free the damaged
Iola
, they set out on the
Sea Wind
for Hawaii.

After a while we decided that going to Fanning wasn’t a good plan because we’d be in a foreign jurisdiction and there was a question of whether the
Sea Wind
would be confiscated, leaving us homeless and stranded. We felt a great responsibility for the
Sea Wind
. She’s a beautiful yacht and we’ve come to love her.

One thing I might as well tell you is that Jennifer and I tend to be romantics, which often leads to rationalizations about life. I suppose this comes from being overanxious for something better, and we tend to color reality with our dreams. I mention this because I wish to be candid about everything, and I hope it’ll aid in understanding something of us.

Here in Hawaii, we’ve had to haul out the
Sea Wind
for repairs. (This is being written at the boatyard.) Last but not least, we wanted to get married…

 

Hadn’t he said a few pages back that “my wife is Jennifer”? Just one small lie, Kit was sure, in comparison to the rest of the letter.

…which we haven’t felt the necessity to do before, but we’ve been talking of having children—the time for a wedding now seems completely right.

I realize this may be the wrong place to mention this, but we want to file a salvage claim on the
Sea Wind
. I hope I can make you understand all that we mean by this, as there are many factors involved. We’ve lost our own boat, market value about $10,000, although price tags have nothing to do with how a sailor values his vessel, whether she be a tub or a luxury yacht. We love the
Sea Wind
and we want, eventually, to continue with her in voyage around the world. Also, I’ve registered the
Sea Wind
, renaming her
Lokahi
, meaning “of one mind,” which we think aptly sums up the spirit of our feelings. We haven’t yet notified anyone about the true circumstances. We feel you should be the first to know.

There are many things we know you’ll want to have whatever happens, and we’d like to ship them to you at the earliest opportunity. We would appreciate hearing your feelings about everything. We intend to write again soon. We want to keep you fully informed.

I know this letter must be a sensitive experience for you, and I know I’ve stated things badly. I seem to have great difficulty finding an end and a beginning, and in determining appropriate language for in between. I apologize for my lack, but we want and very much need an understanding.

Thank you for listening, and please let us know if there’s anything we can do. We send all our deepest sympathies to you and others who will feel Mac and Muff’s loss. We cared, we care.

Sincere regards,
Roy and Jennifer

 

P.S. We found about $400 aboard and used it on repairing and painting the
Sea Wind
. However, we’ll return this amount to you if you feel it’s the right thing to do.

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