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On March 5, 1970, the parents of three girls who
lived in Sylmar, California, just outside Los Angeles, found the girls
missing. They search everywhere, calling friends and their school, but
no one knew where they were. From all appearances, someone had broken
into the home, perhaps to burglarize it, and seemed to have taken the
girls.
Two escaped that day, returning home to report that
two men had kidnapped them, but the third child remained missing. Before
the police were able to work up an investigation, however, a man entered
the LAPD station and went to the front desk. He gave the police a loaded
revolver and announced that his name was Mack Ray Edwards. He reportedly
said, "I have a guilt complex," as recorded by writer Michael Newton. He
admitted to the kidnapping, turning in his accomplice, and gave police
directions to where the still-missing girl could be found in the Angeles
National Forest. As officers went to get her (she was unharmed), Edwards
admitted that he had other matters to discuss with them as well.
The girl turned out to be remarkably lucky, as these
"other matters" involved a series of sex murders. Since 1953, Edwards
claimed, he'd been killing children. His first victim had been an 8-year-old
girl, Stella Nolan, whom he'd kidnapped. This murder was followed three
years later by two in one day: Don Baker, 13, and Brenda Howell, 11.
Apparently, Edwards was bothered by his offenses and over the next few
years had tried to control himself.
Yet compulsion will have its way. In 1968, across a
period of three weeks, Edwards killed two 16-year-old boys, shooting one
of them in the boy's home. The following year, Edwards grabbed and
slaughtered a 13-year-old. Now, he said, he'd intended death for this
girl that he'd spared. He offered to show officers the others' graves
but warned that some would be difficult to find.
First, they located Stella's skeletal remains, buried
in a surprisingly deep grave, but they refused to break up the highway
asphalt under which Edwards said another victim was buried. In fact,
several of the missing victims might have been thus erased, because
Edwards had worked for the highway department and knew where new roads
were going to be laid. It was a simple thing for him to dig a shallow
grave the night before.
While investigators had initially had difficulty
believing Edwards when he'd come in with his announcement, they were
soon doubtful in the opposite way: they did not believe that he'd
stopped himself as he claimed for over a decade, but he was adamant that
he'd confessed to all the murders. It was also apparently true that he
was somewhat conscience-stricken because before his trial he attempted
to kill himself twice in his cell. He also told the jury he wanted to be
executed. He got his death sentence, but the appeals process was too
slow for him, so he finally succeeded in taking his life on October 30,
1970, by hanging himself with an electrical cord.
Another killer turned himself in only after he'd been
suspected in several incidents, and apparently he wanted to clarify his
agenda. Or, he wanted to use a confession as a way to prove his
innocence.
Kenneth Todd Ruiz -
March 19, 2007
Something terrible happened 50 years ago in
the Arroyo Seco above Pasadena, a mystery coursing through Eldon
Bowman's mind ever since.
On March 23, 1957, his son Tommy, 8, vanished at
the end of a brief hike.
"I'll beat you to the car," Tommy told his two
cousins before scrambling out of their lives forever.
The Redondo Beach boy went around a corner and then
was just gone.
Massive searches were organized. For nearly a week,
police and residents thought they were looking for a lost child.
Stories in the Daily Breeze and newspapers throughout the Los Angeles
region tracked every development.
Weeks later, with all leads exhausted, the crisis
of Tommy's disappearance settled into something of a black hole. There
was nothing more for his parents and siblings to do but return to
their home on Irena Avenue.
Five decades later, a Pasadena man obsessed with
ending Eldon Bowman's torment by uncovering the truth behind Tommy's
disappearance has reached grisly and disturbing conclusions about what
happened that afternoon. And the police say he's got it right.
Furthermore, the revelations of author Weston
DeWalt could precipitate breaks in a number of other cold cases
involving child victims throughout Southern California.
After more than two years absorbed in research on
Tommy's disappearance, DeWalt is convinced the boy was abducted that
Saturday evening and murdered by Mack Ray Edwards, then of Azusa,
during the course of a long career as a serial sexual abuser and
murderer of children.
DeWalt is not alone in his theory.
"I absolutely believe he's responsible for the
disappearance of Tommy Bowman," said Detective Vivian Flores of the
Los Angeles Police Department's Cold Case Homicide Unit. "He's gotten
away with it. He can't win and I won't let him."
Not that Edwards is around to take his punishment.
He committed suicide in 1971 in San Quentin state prison.
From 1953 to 1968, Edwards is known to have killed
half a dozen children: * Stella Nolan, 8, was abducted from her home
in June 1953, sexually abused, strangled and left for dead in the
Angeles National Forest. * Donald Baker and Brenda Howell, both 11,
left Azusa on a bike ride in 1956 and never returned. Their throats
were slit and their bodies were dumped off Mount Baldy Road. * Gary
Rocha, 13, was found shot to death in his Granada Hills home in 1968.
* Roger Madison, 16, left his Sylmar home on his motorcycle one month
later and was never seen again. * The body of Donald Allen Todd, 13,
of Pacoima was found shot to death the following spring under a
footbridge not far from his home.
Police now believe he's responsible for Tommy's
disappearance and consider him a "person of interest" in the cases of
up to 13 other missing children.
An end to the crimes
On March 6, 1970, Edwards walked into the LAPD's
Foothill Station with a loaded handgun and turned himself in for
kidnapping three young sisters in Sylmar, where he had been living.
The girls had recognized Edwards and, after two escaped, the killer
knew his years of mayhem were near an end.
Donald Baker was Edwards' neighbor, Brenda Howell
his wife's younger sister and Roger Madison one of his adopted son's
schoolmates. Their bodies were never found.
Edwards confessed to all six murders.
He wanted the death penalty, and a jury delivered
the sentence. But death didn't come quickly enough. After several
failed attempts at suicide, Edwards finally hung himself with a
television power cord while on death row.
Decades after the newspapers and their readers
moved on to new atrocities, there are men and women for whom these
children's names are daily material, their unanswered injustices
stretching through time to demand answers.
There are people like Detective Diane Harris, who
handles missing persons cases for the Los Angeles County Sheriff's
Department.
"I keep them in the back of my mind -- they're
always there," Harris said of her child cases. "I can actually even
tell you what their names are without looking at them."
Flores, the LAPD detective, keeps her children with
her at all times. In her LAPD office, at home or in her car, the
detective doesn't let the thick binders with missing children's names
printed on the covers out of her sight.
During the two years of DeWalt's investigation, he
has worked with Harris, Flores and retired homicide investigator Bill
Gleason, now a consultant for the Department of Justice.
"I've never met Tommy Bowman's father, but to find
out what happened, to let him know where his kid is and maybe bring
his body home, is more satisfying," Flores said.
Police, then and today, didn't buy the story
Edwards told them. They believed there were more -- possibly many more
-- victims.
All share the opinion that Edwards abducted Tommy,
and are considering whether he was involved in other disappearances:
Bruce Kremen, 7, from the Angeles National Forest in 1960; and Karen
Tompkins and Dorothy Brown, both 11 and from Torrance, in 1961 and
1962.
They were especially skeptical of Edwards' claim to
have stopped killing during the 12-year span from 1956 to 1968.
"I know there are times when they know what they're
doing is wrong, and they don't want to do it, but they have this
compulsion to," Harris said. "He could have been not killing people
during that time frame, but I doubt it."
Making the case
Police say they know Mack Ray Edwards, born in
Arkansas in 1918, sexually molested at least one girl before marrying
a young wife in 1946 and moving to California a year later.
A heavy equipment operator, Edwards worked on
several of the freeways now crisscrossing Southern California.
"It's the perfect place for a man who's a serial
murderer to bury the kids he's killing," Harris said. "He knows where
the holes are, he knows where the concrete is being poured."
Edwards made no mention of Tommy Bowman in his
original confession, but later bragged in prison that his murders
numbered 18, DeWalt said.
Ultimately it was a rough sketch and a bizarre
letter smuggled out of prison before his suicide that convinced DeWalt
that Edwards had killed Tommy.
He made the first tenuous connection between the
two when he came across stories about the murderer.
He had a feeling of d�j� vu when he saw a
photograph of Edwards, and recalled an amateur sketch made at the time
by Claudine Clarke of Altadena.
"I studied the sketch; I studied the photographs,"
DeWalt said. "I went from one to the other, warning myself against
what appeared to be too easy a reach."
His suspicion was strong enough to begin looking
into Edwards' history. But police said they needed more than a sketch
with an uncanny resemblance.
While Eldon Bowman and his family retraced their
steps looking for Tommy, the boy had continued south until, adjacent
to the Jet Propulsion Laboratory, he ascended a trail to the west end
of Altadena Drive.
Two witnesses saw a boy believed to be Tommy near
the trailhead on Altadena Drive. Further east, another woman in the
700 block saw a boy matching Tommy's description crying as he walked
eastbound along the street.
Moments later, she saw a "very tan, unkempt man"
matching Edwards' description casting furtive glances side to side and
moving "at a good clip" behind Tommy, DeWalt said.
Across the street, Claudine Clarke reported some
moments later seeing the same man -- but with one discrepancy. Clarke
described a man in a white T-shirt; her neighbor said he was wearing a
plaid shirt.
In old photographs of Edwards taken before his
surrender, DeWalt said he can be seen wearing a plaid shirt buttoned
over a white T-shirt. He theorized that as Tommy drew closer to
Lincoln Avenue and busier streets, Edwards removed his overshirt to
free his movements and make the abduction.
The investigation's shocker came from a letter
seized in an October search of the home of Edwards' widow.
A coded confession
In a strange "anti-confession" smuggled out of San
Quentin before his suicide, Edwards recanted much of his confession
and said he was taking the heat for a man he identifies only as "Billy
the cripple." Police investigators unanimously dismiss the anti-confession
as an invention born of Edwards' psychosis.
But later in that same letter, Edwards drops a
bombshell.
"I was going to add one more to the first statement,"
DeWalt recounted Edwards writing of his original confession. "And that
was the Tommy Bowman boy that disappeared in Pasadena, but I felt I
would really make a mess of that one, so I left him out of it."
Police believe that is Edwards' coded confession to
killing Tommy.
"That right there puts me over the top," Flores
said. "If he didn't know about Tommy Bowman, he wouldn't have
mentioned it."
Eldon Bowman never stopped wondering what happened
to Tommy, and laments that Tommy's mother, Mary, died several years
ago, still wondering.
After 50 years of unextinguished hope, the 85-year-old
isn't ready to embrace entirely what DeWalt and police now believe
happened to his son.
"It makes the most sense, as much as I don't like
to think about it," said Bowman, who now lives in Simi Valley. "It
isn't finalized, but it probably is the best explanation anyone has
come up with so far."