Born to Lose (28 page)

A. Yes, she put the baby in the back and she got in under the wheel, and I jumped in the backseat, too.

Q. Do you remember anything the girl said?

A. The only thing I remember was, “Don't hurt us.”

Q. What gun did you have pointed at her?

A. The same .22 Higgins.

Q. Was it fully loaded?

A. Yes, with nine shots.

Q. Would you have killed the girl and baby if they hadn't obeyed you?

A. Yes, in a minute.

Q. So you took them away at gunpoint, Linda driving?

A. Yes.

Q. Where are they, Stanley?

Hoss declined to discuss the fate of Linda Peugeot, but he did say that while in Fairbury, Illinois, he was “not alone.”

Hoss explained to the agents that he had traveled so much during the past two weeks, he was not certain precisely where he'd been or stayed, but he ventured he'd spent the night of September 25 in Hannibal, Missouri. Hoss said that he'd been “alone” at Hannibal, but he would not clarify this ominous implication. Again he declined to elaborate on what had happened
to Linda Peugeot. With this, Hoss said he was tired of talking but would continue after a meal.

Law enforcement was under tremendous pressure to release a statement to the newspapers. The jail had been besieged, not only by local reporters but also by scribes from throughout the United States representing a range of newspapers and wire services, including AP, IUP, and Reuters. Even foreign newspapers had sent people to Waterloo, some flying in from Los Angeles, where they had been assigned to cover the continuing but baffled investigation into just who had slaughtered Hollywood starlet Sharon Tate and her friends.

Agent Fred Fehl made some general statements: Hoss was finally talking, was cooperating … but no, the Peugeots' fate or location was not exactly known. In an earlier statement, Evan “Curly” Hultman, U.S. attorney for northern Iowa, said, “In my own mind I feel the mother and child are dead. Based on various factors, there is no indication they are still alive.”

These heartbreaking words, though not perfectly final, were not made in a vacuum. The search of the GTO had told much, particularly what was found in the front seat and the trunk. Blood. Lots of it. The amount seemed to indicate that Linda was dead. But the fact that a great deal of blood was found in the trunk led to speculation that Linda was not wholly expired when Hoss placed her there.

In the meantime, certain evidence—receipts, maps, and the like—provided enough information to provoke yet another immense hunt. Lawmen set out on a virtual house-to-house search across northern Indiana, along routes 224 and 24. They did the same all along northern Ohio, where “every hotel, motel, and café is being checked out.” Yet even with this gargantuan, frenzied search as backdrop, something—some word—was needed from the man presently enjoying chicken breasts and hot biscuits to finally end the suspense.

At 1:38 P.M., the three agents and Hoss were again in place.

Q. Stanley, what we know, according to you, is that you took the mother and child from a store parking lot in LaVale, Maryland. That was on September 22. The three of you were together. Then you say days later you were alone. That means they were no longer with you. Something happened to them, Stanley. What? Only you would know.

A. I shot Linda.

Q. You killed her?

A. Yes, she's dead.

Q. Why Stanley? What was so—

A. She got on my nerves.

Q. Where did you do this?

A. In Pennsylvania. After I grabbed them, we made a straight shot for Buffalo, New York, up Route 219 through Pennsylvania.

Q. Did you go to Buffalo?

A. No, I made the girl do all the driving. She told me her name was Linda. I didn't tell her my name, and she talked about working in a restaurant, but she didn't tell me anything about her family. She started to mouth off.

Q. What do you mean by that?

A. She wanted me to let she and the baby go, said she wouldn't tell the cops anything, and she wanted to get out of the car. Somewhere on Route 219 she pulled off the road and she was mouthing off.

Q. What took place there?

A. She was running her mouth off. I got sick of that. I took the gun and wanted to scare her by putting a bullet past her but shot her in the right side. She started to scream. The baby was still in the backseat and crying, and I shot Linda right through the temple. That shut her up.

Q. What did you do then?

A. She was bleeding a lot. I took her out and threw her in the trunk.

Q. Was there blood in the car?

A. Yes, all over both seats in the front, on the console, and the floor. I put her in the trunk right away.

Q. Can you give me the exact location on 219 where you shot Linda?

A. I don't know where I was myself. It was before I got to Route 322, though, and there might have been a farm in the distance.

Q. Did you have sexual relations with Linda?

A. No, I didn't touch her.

Q. What gun did you shoot Linda with?

A. The same .22 Higgins.

Q. When did this shooting occur?

A. Just before dusk the same day I picked her and the baby up.

Q. Were there any bullet holes in the car?

A. I didn't see any. They must have stayed in her.

Without prompting Hoss proceeded to explain what he did after killing Linda Peugeot. As needed, the FBI probed for particulars.

“Here is the first time I started driving her car, the GTO. I was going
to stay in a motel but saw a state trooper hanging around so I drove away south past Slippery Rock, then almost to Butler.

“These are … ?”

“Towns in western Pennsylvania,” Hoss clarified. “I flirted with going home to see some people, say goodbye. Also, I wouldn't have minded killing a couple cops on my way out of town.” (Hoss may have said this for effect, yet a revenge list in Hoss's handwriting was found in his room at the Travelers Motel just after his capture. Among the six officers listed were Chiefs Steve Radage and Wilbur Bliss and Patrolman Red Orris.) “But I guess I thought it was too risky,” Hoss went on, “and I had the baby with me, so I turned west into Ohio.”

Hoss spoke with authority and displayed little hesitation over details, like one would if crafting a tale or making all or parts of it up as the story unfolded. Hoss's memory, too, whole or selective, appeared remarkable. To his listeners, Hoss seemed to be telling an honest version. Still, every cop knows that every criminal, to a lesser or greater degree, is a liar.

Hoss drank more coffee and laid out more of his travels. The agents let him talk, but were anxious to bring him to the fate of the little girl. He was asked how he was financing this cross-country jaunt.

“Well, I was out of cash when I got to LaVale. The few bucks Linda had I used for gas. After that I pulled stickups whenever I needed money.”

“You never got caught?” asked Flint.

Hoss smiled at the silly question. “Guess not.”

When Hoss started in again about driving across the United States, Agent Dunn cut in. “Stanley, we've heard this. Believe me, we'll be checking out every city, town, and hamlet. Now, I am asking you, the little girl, Lori Mae … what have you done with her?”

Hoss's face remained unreadable as he sipped his coffee, then rolled his shoulders, as if to loosen up before making eye contact with Dunn.

“The baby died,” replied Hoss, spending the same emotion if he'd said he'd lost a dollar.

“Died?” said Dunn, thinking of some horrible accident. “How did she die?”

“I guess I made her die, I killed her. The baby stuck with me for a couple thousand miles, and then we got to Kansas City.”

“Do you know the date you got there?” said Dunn, who had evolved into the lead questioner.

“No, but the baby was with me about a week.”

“What happened there?”

“I didn't know how to take care of the kid. One place, a couple of colored ladies fixed her hair in a restaurant. She wouldn't eat scrambled eggs. I would buy her milk and mashed potatoes.”

“You mention you got near Kansas City, Kansas?”

“Yes, I pulled off of a dirt road near Kansas City and I took my right hand and put it over the baby's mouth and smothered her. Then I found a pasteboard box that I got off some kind of dump. I put the baby in the box and I put the box on the dump.”

“Was the baby alive when you put her in the box?”

“I don't know. She'd been kicking before I smothered her but she stopped. I don't know if she was breathing or not when I put her in the box, but I took my gun and I emptied it at the box, all nine shots.”

“Did you hit the box?”

“Yeah, every time. The baby was another link in the chain against me, to follow me, so I emptied the gun in her.”

“Why did you kill Linda?”

Hoss gave a philosophical shrug. “Why should I care about other people? I didn't want to kill the girl and baby but I wanted to be free. I knew if I'd leave Linda go, the cops would be on my trail. Another murder wouldn't make any difference. If you kill, you might as well kill half a dozen. You can only burn once.”

After Hoss's chilling denouement, Dunn brought the session to a close.

“Have you been fully warned of your constitutional rights each time you've been interrogated?”

“Yes. I'm going to plead guilty to everything. I'm not going to fight anything. I haven't asked for an attorney and I don't want one.”

“Is there anything you wish to add to this statement, Stanley?”

“Yes, I want to tell you about cops. There is no cops I care for. And yeah, I'll tell you now, I shot the one in Verona. Instead of killing those people, the girl and the baby, I should have killed all cops. When I was surrounded at the diner, if I just had my gun I would have killed all eight of them. I'd have shot them down. I'd have saved the ninth bullet for myself. I fought to get that gun. If I could have just gotten to it, I'd have shot them all. The gun was loaded on the front seat. I gave them a battle and almost got one policeman's gun, but I didn't.”

Later in the evening, Hoss was again brought out. He looked weary. The agents wanted to keep up the pressure in hope of breaking him.

Though evasive, Hoss admitted he knew the location of the bodies. He stated neither would be found unless he showed where they were, but he added he would not do this. After some thought, he said he would like to make a deal.

“I'll tell you where they are,” Hoss said quietly, “if after I do, you'll leave a gun on the table and give me a minute in this room by myself.”

“That's impossible,” Agent Dunn said.

“Well, that's it then,” said Hoss, with a bang of his handcuffs on the tabletop. “Now you'll never know.”

After a pause, Hoss surprised everyone. “All right, they are buried in separate graves, not in cemeteries or in water. They're two states apart, but no one but me can ever find them.”

Finally Hoss said he
would
reveal the grave sites, but not until he was returned to Pennsylvania and allowed to personally explain his actions to Jodine Fawkes and his parents, since he felt the newspapers and other media would mishandle the facts. The agents agreed to this barter, in which Hoss controlled the where and when, even the if.

At session's end, Hoss said, “Remember, the grave locations are my ace in the hole.”

. . .

“We were led to the cell and there he was, sitting on his bunk with a plate of wieners and beans on his knees. Beside him was the biggest, glossiest red apple I'd ever seen. Working homicide, I never even heard of him until Zanella was shot. Why we weren't in the interrogation room, I don't know, but when we entered the cell I was struck by his crystal clear green eyes and, considering his charges, lack of trepidation—no fear whatever. He was an arrogant sonovabitch. He continued to eat without looking up, but said, ‘Hi, enjoy your flight'?” This is what Captain Joseph Start recalled when first laying eyes upon Stanley Hoss.

Joe Start's match with police work was like snow on a pine bough. Back from Europe after World War II, Start pinned on a badge in 1947 and steadily climbed the ranks of Allegheny County's Detective Bureau.

In 1963, Start made it into the homicide section—the Pinnacle Club. Three years later, Start, with captain's bars, was the officer in charge of the club. Naturally, then, by position and acumen, it was Start who was selected by his boss, District Attorney Robert Duggan, to hasten out to Waterloo. Accompanying Start was big, burly Marty Corcoran, who had followed in the footsteps of his father, also a detective.

Their mission held three goals: to present to proper authority a bench warrant for Hoss's arrest for the killing of patrolman Joe Zanella; to interrogate and seek confession; and to take custody of the suspect for his return to Pittsburgh under state jurisdiction.

This was straightforward enough, but soon after the pair landed at Waterloo Airport the evening of Monday, October 6, things got curious.

After finding a motel, Start and Corcoran made their way to the Black Hawk County Jail, where they received a cordial welcome. They learned that federal agents, including Pittsburgh Special Agent Danny Dunn, had arrived the day before and had already talked to Hoss several times. Asked when they could see Hoss, the detectives were told he was in the custody of the feds and no other authority could see him until OK'd by the FBI. Captain Start shrugged. “All right, when they're done, we'll talk to him. If the FBI had something good going, we'd back off, but I soon learned this was perhaps more courtesy than if the shoe was on the other foot.”

After Start showed his bench warrant to the jail's warden, the detectives were left to cool their heels for the next couple of days. It was understood that Hoss had waived extradition as early as Saturday night, so there was no fight coming from that quarter. The detectives might have been miffed that the federal agents barely seemed to acknowledge their presence, engaging in only the most cursory of exchanges, but if this was a snub, Start let it go, saying, “Really, we were there for the Zanella case. Whatever the FBI could find out about the Peugeots, that's fine. We just wanted to bring Hoss back on the Zanella case, but it never happened that way.”