All language subtitles for Son.of.Sam.The.Hunt

"'Go out and kill,'
commands father Sam.

I am here on earth
to create havoc and terror."

New York, 1977.

A gunman
is targeting young couples.

He pulled something
out of his pocket

and started firing into the car.

And I was yelling out for help,

and then I collapsed
over the roof of the car.

The NYPD believe
a serial killer is on the loose,

but they have no leads.

Then, on may the 30th,

famed journalist Jimmy breslin
opens a letter from the killer.

"Mr. Breslin, sir,
I am a monster.

I am the son of Sam."

That name caught fire.

He came out of the dark,

and the dark
became a time to fear.

There was this sort
of overriding sense

that you could be next,

or someone you know
could be next.

It felt really apocalyptic.

We're all scared.

A bizarre, sick mind had
just declared war on New York.

40 years later,

detectives, witnesses,
and survivors

relive the hunt
for a serial killer.

Up until now, none of US
have ever come forward.

I could never forgive him
for what he's done.

...Captions by vitac...
www.Vitac.Com

captions paid for by
discovery communications

July 1976.

Disco is at its peak.

The club scene is thriving,
especially in New York City.

It was a time when women felt
a new freedom to be "me,"

if you will, and to be single
and go out and date.

People had a good time.

It felt like, to me, the world's
most dangerous amusement park,

but I really liked that.

It was a great place to be

because there was always
something to get into.

18-year-old Donna lauria

is caught up in the excitement
of the disco era.

Beautiful and ambitious,
she's working

as a medical technician

and studying
for her paramedic's license.

I think Donna was really happy
at the time.

She was doing something
she wanted to do,

and that was going along well.

And, you know,
we were growing up,

and, you know, things were good.

On July 29th,

Donna lauria
and her friend Jody valenti

are on their way home

after visiting
some clubs in Manhattan.

It's 1:00 in the morning.

The two women are parked

in front of Donna's apartment
building in Jody's car.

My dad was not thrilled
that it was that time,

and dad and Donna
had a little exchange about,

"it's late.
You know, come on.

You need to come upstairs."

She told him she would,
but go get her dog,

and that they would
walk the dog together.

The father says,
"well, I'm gonna go up

and get the dog and come down."

Everything typical, no problem,

and suddenly,
the world explodes around them.

Some guy
just came out of the shadows

and fired and shot them.

By the time I got there,

she was already
on the pavement outside the car.

I checked her for a pulse,
and...

And there was
nothing I could do.

She was dead by the time
I got down there.

And I just...

There was just nothing.

I mean, it was horrible.

The shocking attack
on Donna lauria and Jody valenti

gets reported,

but the tragedy passes
almost unnoticed.

New York is in the grip
of a terrible crime wave.

In 1976, it is one of the most
dangerous cities in the country,

with over 1,700 murders
this year alone.

You had bombings
down in Brooklyn.

We had police that were shot.

Banks were being robbed.

Murder was up.
Rape was up.

Armed robbery was up.

You know,
there was a lot of desperation.

We had
so many homicides in those days.

The sheer number of cases
was overwhelming.

With the city
on the verge of collapse,

can anyone hope to find
Donna lauria's killer?

"I love to hunt,

prowling the streets looking
for fair game, tasty meat.

I live for the hunt."

Al Howard and Richard Paul of
Bronx homicide catch the case.

From the start, they realize
this is going to be

emotionally difficult.

You have children of your own,

and you can't figure out
the reason.

Why would anybody want
to shoot two young ladies

just sitting in the car?

They wonder
if the location of the murder

might be a crucial lead.

When we got
the Donna lauria case,

that was up in the Bronx.

There was an area up there
where the mafia guys

would dump their bodies
in this park area.

One of my partners thought
that maybe it was an offshoot

of a mafia problem up there.

The attack on Donna
does resemble a mafia-style hit.

A case of mistaken identity?

Or could she have been caught up
in something like this?

The detectives start
to investigate rumors.

We developed information
that Donna had a boyfriend.

And when they broke up,
he threatened her life.

Vinny was maybe 20, 21, and he
was sort of a wannabe wise guy.

Rich Paul searches
for the murder weapon.

If he can link Donna's ex to
the gun, he'll have his killer.

Well, the only evidence we had
in the shooting was the bullet

that was recovered,
the .44-caliber bullet,

and that was unusual.

So we knew within a day or two
what kind of gun was used.

The murder weapon
is a .44-caliber pistol

called the charter arms bulldog.

Hey, Mario.

Detective Paul can link vinny
with exactly that type of gun.

He's been seen with someone
who was buying one,

but he denies it.

I'd never heard charter
before this particular shooting,

so it wasn't a common weapon
for US to run into.

But it's a big bullet.

That kind of gun is designed
to do a lot of destruction

when it hits you.

So we figured, once we find
this gun, and we test-fire it,

we're gonna have
the murder weapon here.

Once the police
are able to trace the gun,

can they link it to Donna's ex?

Or perhaps they're
on the wrong track.

They test-fired it,
and they sent the bullet up,

and it was not the bullet.

For that two or three weeks,
I was convinced that vinny

was the murderer.

Of course, now you come up
with nothing after you have ...

where do you go from this?

You have no motive.
You have nothing.

So the case started to get
really pretty cold.

For three months,
Donna lauria's death

was just another
unsolved murder...

Until a new crime offers
a strange link.

In 1976, I was 20 years old

and, um...

Smoked pot.

Smoked a lot of pot

and, you know,

listened to the grateful dead
and the allman brothers.

To me, that kind of makes me
a hippie.

In October 1976,

Carl denaro's life
is about to change.

He's joined the air force

and is celebrating one
of his last nights as a civilian

in the company of a young woman
called Rosemary Keenan.

Her dad was a cop.

And on a few occasions
I'd be at her house,

you know, with other people.

And, you know, her dad
would come in,

and he'd take one look at me
with the long hair

and the earring,
and, you know,

he wasn't a big fan of mine.

There was a neighborhood bar.

There were some girls hanging
out at the bar that I knew,

and I went over,
said hello to them,

and started talking to Rosemary.

Apparently, she was there
specifically looking for me.

This is where Rosemary and I
left that evening.

And we got in her car,

and she drove
straight down 164th street.

You know, lovers' lanes were
wherever you made them, really.

You know, if you had
someone with a car,

and you were dating someone,

you would find
an abandoned street, you know,

where you could
sort of be in the car and talk

and maybe kiss a little bit
or whatever the case is.

I mean, the worst you thought
that could happen

is that someone might see you.

But it never...

At least,
it never crossed my mind

that something bad could happen.

"Sometimes, the need to kill
becomes so overwhelming

that I fear myself.

I'm certain there
is something inside me,

an alien presence,

this need to obtain blood
and kill."

Looking ahead, there was ...

the streetlight that's there
was actually out that night,

so it was kind of dark.

And we pulled over
right about here.

You know, we talked a little
bit, made out a little bit,

and all of a sudden...

Five shots ring out.

Carl is hit.

He doesn't really know
at first that he's hit.

I looked down, and I had,
you know, pieces of glass

embedded in my hands
and my arms.

I didn't see anything.

I just assumed the car blew up.

Rosemary, scared,
frightened, terrified.

She drives back to the bar
to get him help.

Vinny, the doorman,
opens the door and says,

"Carl, you don't look too good."

And I said,
"I don't feel too good."

And when I sat down,
my head went down,

and my long hair was holding
in blood from my head wound,

and my shirt turned bloodred
within seconds.

The bullet
has shattered Carl's skull,

and surgeons work through
the night to save him.

Detective Richard Paul
hears about the shooting

the next morning.

One of my partners
was on the way into work,

and he had
the local news station on.

And he said to me,
"hey, you know, rich,

there was a shooting in queens

that sounds like
your kind of thing."

And we found out
that the bullet that was used

was probably
a .44-caliber bullet.

And so we had some inkling
that these were connected.

But the new shooting
is in queens,

a different borough
and a different police precinct.

And the local detectives,
including Rosemary's own father,

redmond Keenan,

take a very different view
of the case.

Two detectives come in, and one
of them was Rosemary's father.

I guess my first reaction was,
"crap," you know?

He didn't like me before.

He's not gonna like me
at all now.

Basically, they harassed me.

Now, you have to realize,
I'm sitting there.

I'm in really bad pain.

And they said,
"so, what happened?"

And I said, "I don't know."

And they said,
"well, who did it?"

I said, "I have no idea
who did it."

They thought it was
a drug deal gone wrong.

I knew it wasn't a drug deal
because, you know, I smoked pot,

but I ... you know,
I don't deal drugs.

But I had no other answers.

In the middle
of a citywide crime wave,

and with a drug deal
used conveniently

to explain the attack on Carl,

there's no follow-up
on the possible connection

to Donna lauria's murder
three months earlier.

It will take another attack

before cops start
to see the pattern.

January 31, 1977.

One of New York's
coldest winters on record.

It's six months
since Donna lauria's murder

and three months
since the attack on Carl denaro.

Christine freund
and her fiancé, John diel,

had been out to dinner
in queens.

And now it's late.

John parks his car,
which is a firebird,

the hot car of the times.

And he parks it
at station Plaza,

which is the stop
for the long island railroad.

This is the exact location

where John's car was parked.

And they parked her for a while,
talking about their future.

They were planning a wedding.

They were talking
about children.

They were talking about all of
these things that a young couple

would be talking about,

and that was interrupted
that night.

"I am the demon
from the bottomless pit.

I take the lives of those

who are not willing
to give them up."

They're just sitting talking,
and the world explodes.

Christine is bleeding,

and John gets out,
screaming for help.

He tries to stop motorists,
who will not stop.

Here's this crazed individual

trying to save
the love of his life.

Marlin Hopkins
of queens homicide

is among the first detectives
to reach the scene.

I looked inside
the car, and I saw Christine.

She was slumped over with a lot
of blood on the dashboard

and the windshield
and the side window.

This is a picture I acquired
from the family

of Christine freund.

Long brunette hair, pretty girl.

Long life ahead of her.

The emotions
that I was feeling then,

I'm starting to feel them now.

Christine's fiancé,
John, is uninjured,

and detective Hopkins
is suspicious.

It could be
he just innocently was there,

or he could be the shooter.

Murders usually occur between
people who know each other.

But ballistic analysis

proves beyond a doubt
the shooter fired

from outside the car
and not inside.

So, John, he went through this
whole thing of interrogation,

hypnosis, lie detectors.

Was that unsettling for him?

Sure, definitely was.

I felt for him after a while

because I realized
it wasn't him.

Hopkins is unaware
of the earlier shootings

and wonders whether the unusual
caliber of the bullets

might provide a clue
to the killer.

This is the caliber of bullet

that we were dealing with
at the time.

Huge bullet to be fired
in a pistol.

Finally, the connection

with the previous attacks
becomes clear

when captain Joe borrelli
of queens homicide

becomes involved
in the investigation.

One of the detectives said,

"you know, we had
a shooting in queens.

Two young girls
were shot and wounded,

and it was
a large-caliber bullet."

He said
that redmond Keenan's daughter

was in a car
where the boy was shot,

and that was a large bullet.

Detectives contact
other police precincts,

and they soon discover
a fourth large-caliber shooting.

Two months earlier, Donna demasi
and joanne lomino were shot

and badly wounded by an attacker
with a .44 pistol.

We had a lot
of .44-caliber bullets,

which...a coincidence
only goes so far.

It's a huge breakthrough.

For the first time,
the police confront

a chilling possibility ...

that all the attacks
are the work of the same killer.

"I am he, the son of Sam,

who fears nothing I destroy.

Who can understand
the mysteries

of the forces of darkness?"

Once the New York
police department

identified the potential
that it was the same person,

it raised the specter
of the fact

that it could happen to anyone
at any time in any place.

When you have
somebody like this,

and now you're starting

to understand
that you have a serial killer,

that changes the game.

Captain Joe borrelli
sets up a task force,

choosing officers who have
worked the individual attacks,

including Richard Paul,

marlin Hopkins,
and Rosemary Keenan's father.

They are under no illusions
about the difficulty they face.

When you investigate homicides,
one of the hardest

to investigate
is a stranger-on-stranger,

because there's no motive.

The team
soon discovers the attacks

have a lot in common,

including the appearance
of the victims.

Young women, long dark hair,
sitting in cars at night,

shot suddenly through the glass

by an unknown individual
who would then run off.

Even Carl denaro
fits the pattern.

Of course, still being
in my hippie stage,

I had long brown hair,

and I was sitting
in the passenger's seat.

So it wasn't too much
of a leap to assume

that I was mistaken
for a female.

New yorkers
have no idea there's any danger.

Life goes on as before.

But in the tabloid newsrooms,
reporters are beginning to catch

the scent of a big story.

As early as January,
I think police began

to see a connection
between these killings,

but they didn't
make that public.

Rumors kept floating
into the newsroom.

Journalists were beginning
to also think

that there might be a pattern.

Brian Kates was
a reporter at the daily news.

His mission was to out-report
his rivals at the New York post.

Well, in those days,
there's no question.

A popular newspaper

does rely
on some kinds of crime.

Be first.
Sell the news.

Imagine, sell the news.

That's what was important.

Murder was definitely
a commodity.

And I was fortunate at the time
working the night shift,

'cause that's when murder
usually takes place.

The press are now
sniffing around these cases

for a story,

and the police don't want them
to disclose any important leads.

We certainly didn't want
to disclose that we knew

we had a charter arms .44 pistol

that was probably involved
in all the shootings

because all the person

would have had to do
was get rid of that gun,

and we would have had nothing
to go on if they didn't confess.

So we kept that as quiet
as we could.

The cops were sort of, really,

just waiting for the other foot
to drop,

I.e., another bloodbath.

On march the 8, 1977,
captain Joe borrelli

gets the call
he's been dreading.

1977.

A serial killer is behind

four apparently random attacks
in New York.

Two young women have been killed
and four people badly wounded.

An NYPD task force has been
set up to find the killer.

The only lead they have is
the gun used in the attacks ...

a .44-caliber pistol.

Then, on march the 8th,

detectives are called
to another attack.

There's this very pretty
young girl just laying there,

and some guy had come up,
some stranger,

and killed her right there.

It gets to you
after a while, you know?

Sometimes, you get feelings.

Our preliminary investigation
at this time

is very uncertain,

and we don't have
too many facts to go on.

The victim

is 19-year-old
Virginia voskerichian,

a language student
at Columbia university.

Virginia is shot
just a few streets

from where Christine freund
was killed,

but there are
important differences.

The police wonder
if they are linked.

This may not be the same thing.

It's just a coincidence,
because here's a girl

walking down the street

and Christine was in a car.

It's about 7:30 at night,

and this lovely young girl,

someone walks towards her,
pulls a gun.

She sees the perpetrator,

puts her books
up in front of her face,

hoping to stop the bullet.

The bullet passes
through the books and her face,

and she's dead.

Ballistics confirm
this is the work

of the same .44-caliber killer.

The fact that he's attacked
not in the dead of night,

but early evening is disturbing,

and it means one thing
to detectives ...

he's getting bolder.

They killed a girl again.

Here,
I never hear those things.

What happened now?

It's a tragic thing.

I think something
should be done about it.

NYPD psychologist
Harvey schlossberg

joins the investigation
to begin profiling the killer.

Serial killers generally tend
to progress in what they do.

They increase the anger,

the damage that
they do to the victim,

so they tend to build it up
more and more.

The killer's attacks

have focused
on the Bronx and queens.

The NYPD intensify patrols,

but they're starting to realize

the scale of the challenge
they face.

Imagine, at this time,
we're looking in two boroughs,

which comprise a million people.

And you're looking for somebody
that's just driving around

randomly shooting people.

It was like looking
for a needle in the haystack.

Two days after
the voskerichian attack,

police decide
it's time to go public.

New York mayor Abe beame
stages a press conference,

and for the first time,

the public hears
that a serial killer

is at large in their city.

During the last few weeks,

new yorkers have been subjected

to a series
of criminal outrages,

which are unmatched
in recent memory.

Surprisingly, mayor beame

reveals a critical detail.

It was the mayor that disclosed
the caliber of the gun,

which we thought was insane.

Right now, if the killer takes
that gun and throws it away,

the chances are
they will never catch him.

So, there's the dilemma
you always face.

The investigators,
they want to hold back,

but the public has to know.

"Let's see how ready you are.

You guys have made me
very angry.

So kiss my ass,
all you bitches."

The police are worried
that their best evidence

is now public,

and the press make
a huge story of it.

Well, now,
after that press conference,

as a journalist,
intriguing, intriguing.

Frightening, but intriguing.

The press was able
to give a name to the shooter ...

the .44 caliber killer.

There were stories
almost daily, it seemed.

That got everyone's
attention at that moment,

'cause suddenly, they had linked
these shootings

possibly to one person,
and it had a name.

It was like Jack the ripper
or the Boston strangler.

You had a person,
an image, an icon,

and that kicked off
a genuine frenzy.

Yeah, you have to be careful.

You have to watch
where you go now,

you know,
how late you stay out.

I feel kind of spooked
about it, you know?

You might sit down there
one night and get shot.

We used to stay in front of
my house and park and, you know,

and kiss good night,
but we can't do that no more.

Everyone became fearful.

What would happen
if they went out,

if they were in the wrong place
at the wrong time,

in the wrong car
in the wrong street?

Would they survive?

This is headquarters for
one of the most intense manhunts

in the history of New York ...

the search
for the .44 caliber killer.

Operating out of this office,

over 50 of the city's
best detectives pore over clues

and run down leads.

The good thing about getting
information from the public is,

it gives you leads,

because the eyes
and ears are out there.

And hopefully,
one of those will work.

The downside is that there's...

Too much information
comes across.

And he states that
this informant has been reliable

in the past?

Information came in
from all over the world.

People from Europe.

We got letters from, I think,
even Australia

and places like that.

The press did create a situation
where I'd never seen it,

like, in all my years.

Did they create
a sense of fear at all?

Sure.

But is all this media attention

exactly what the killer wants?

Serial killers are often
unsuccessful nobodies

who feel powerless.

But through killing, they can
hold an entire community,

a whole city
in a grip of terror,

and it makes them feel
extremely powerful.

This is a niche where the only
pleasure comes from killing.

Nobody can satisfy him,

nothing, except getting away
with a killing

and picking up
where he left off.

The police know
they must find the killer fast.

Their focus is now
on trying to predict

where he might strike next.

We come up with the idea that,
"hey, you just shoot somebody,

you're probably
getting away in a car,"

because all of these cases

in queens and in the Bronx,

there was an access road,
a main artery.

It was, up in the Bronx,

it was
the hutchinson river parkway.

In queens, we had
the Van wyck expressway.

The police focus
more patrols on places

that are not only magnets
for young couples,

but are also close
to major roads.

And they also use other
rather less orthodox tactics.

They wound up getting these
mannequins, female mannequins,

and we put the mannequin
in the car with a detective.

Put them in a location
we thought might be suspect ...

lovers' lanes that are back away
from the traffic and so on,

places that we kind of felt
he might go to.

But then the word come back,
saying, "it's no good

because there's no movement,
you know, if he's looking."

Then we wound up putting wigs
on male detectives.

And I'll never forget.
I was standing there one night.

Ronnie marsunnesson
was going out with Richard Paul.

And Ronnie turned around,
and he said to Richie, he says,

"remember, now,
when you kiss me tonight,

keep your eyes open

'cause this guy
sneaks up on US."

I'll give you the honest version
of this thing.

If this individual
was riding around

and he spotted these things,

he was gonna shoot
into the car,

I don't think either one of US

had any intentions
of arresting him.

I think we had the intention

we were gonna start shooting
when he started shooting,

and the whole thing
would have been over.

As the weeks pass,
mannequins and cops in wigs

aren't able
to lure the killer.

Captain borrelli is prepared
to consider any lead,

even a supernatural tip-off.

I was in my office
in the 15th homicide,

and the phone rings.

The caller was a hispanic man,
and he told me,

"my wife
has these special powers."

And he said, "this is
what she's saying.

He's gonna strike again,
the killer.

He's gonna strike on a street
that's not a street,

and a parkway,
but it's not a parkway.

He's gonna kill two people ...

a man and a woman.

They're gonna be in a car
that's black and red.

And he's gonna speak to you."

Then, on April 17th,
officers are called to a scene

that bears an eerie similarity

to the psychic's prediction.

And it was on the service road
of the hutchinson river parkway.

It wasn't a street,
and it wasn't the parkway.

The car is black and red.

The man and the woman
are killed.

And at that scene, there was
a note left addressed to me.

"I love to hunt...
-"I love to hunt...

Prowling the streets looking
for fair game, tasty meat."

The women of queens
are the prettiest."

Captain borrelli read the letter
to the task force,

and silence.

Total silence.

Now it's personal.

It's April 17th, 1977,

when detectives
from the task force

are called to the scene
of a terrible double murder

carried out by the man

the press has dubbed
the .44 caliber killer.

Valentina suriani and
her boyfriend, Alexander esau,

had been sweethearts
since high school.

Nancy suriani genovese
is Valentina's sister.

Val and Alex hung out probably
a couple of times a week.

He seemed very proper.

They seemed to enjoy
each other's company.

The night that this happened,

val was feeling
a little under the weather.

My mom said, "why don't you
just stay home?"

But she was an adult,
and she went out that night,

and that was it.

Valentina suriani

seems to confirm the killer's
preference for brunettes,

and, as in other attacks,

the couple are parked
in a lovers' Lane.

For Valentina and Alex, it was
tragically a case of wrong time,

wrong place.

Valentina
was very smart, very clever,

funny, but very, very honest.

She spoke from the heart.

"Now, I don't know where i'm
going or if I'll ever arrive,

but the trip is living,

the fare is life,
and I love being alive."

That's by Valentina suriani.

It's heartbreaking,
it really is,

because you feel that
if you could solve this thing,

this wouldn't be happening,

so it's a big challenge
for everybody.

A letter is found

just steps away
from the murder scene,

addressed to captain borrelli.

Police now have
an unprecedented lead ...

communication
directly from the killer.

It gives the police their
first glimpse into his mind.

The killer left a note filled
with crazed obscenities,

with threats,

with what seemed
to be satanic symbols.

"Police, let me haunt you
with these words ...

I'll be back.
-"I'll be back.

I'll be back.
-I'll be back...

To be interpreted as 'bang,
bang, bang, bang, bang!'

yours in murder, Mr. Monster."

Detective bill Clark
is part of the NYPD task force

investigating
Valentina's murder.

The suriani and esau case
introduced a big escalation

in the investigation

and became a true
"we got to solve this or else,"

because he's throwing
the gauntlet down

and we know he isn't stopping.

Serial killers like
to leave information to taunt

and to tease the police.

They want to show that they're
smarter than the police officers

who are on the case.

"I am deeply hurt by you
calling me a woman hater.

I am not.

But I am a monster.

I am the son of Sam."

The thing about the letter that
kind of really opened the door

was that he signed it
with a name.

He is now the son of Sam.

And it was a whole bunch of,
"is his father's name Sam?"

Is that where we have to look?"

Police psychologist
Harvey schlossberg

is building up
a profile of the killer.

Originally, from the best
I could put together

was, he liked to be a voyeur,

a peeping Tom,

and then that spread out

to watching
more sexual kind of scenes,

and, ultimately,
his big pleasure

came from interfering
with lovers in cars

where they parked to make out ...
you know, young couples.

It would appear
that the .44 caliber killer

did not want to have any contact
with his victims.

It was very easy for him
psychologically

to pull the trigger

when he didn't have
any contact with the victims.

It's much more difficult to kill
someone with your hands,

with a knife, but in this case,
there was no contact.

The profile helps investigators

identify a possible suspect,

so they follow reports
of a mysterious gunman

who shoots at vehicles
and lives in the vicinity

of two
of the son of Sam attacks.

He had an apartment
on the second floor.

As a bus would go by
or a truck would go by,

he'd shoot it from his window.

I said, "this is weird."

Detective marlin Hopkins

searches
the suspect's apartment,

hoping to find
the .44-caliber murder weapon.

He said, "you can check out
my apartment. It's no problem."

Bad move.

We went into the apartment.

A slew of guns ...
rifles, pistols.

And we went through all of them.

I arrested him for that.

But no .44-caliber.

That was a downer.

Then, on may the 30th, 1977,

there is a dramatic development

in the offices
of the New York daily news.

The son of Sam
has sent a second letter,

a much longer one,

this time
to columnist Jimmy breslin.

"Mr. Breslin, sir,

don't think that because
you haven't heard from me

for a while
that I went to sleep.

No, rather, I'm still here,

like a spirit
roaming the night."

The letter was very eerie.

I mean, you know,
then you know

that he read something
that you wrote

and that,
somewhere out there,

he's reading again
what you wrote.

At the daily newsat that time,
Jimmy breslin

was the top columnist.

People bought the daily news
simply to read Jimmy breslin,

so if anyone wanted
to speak to New York,

the best way to speak
to New York

was through Jimmy breslin.

Brian Kates is in the newsroom

when breslin receives
the letter from the killer.

When the newsroom saw this,

we were, first of all,
stunned and then ecstatic

and then realized
the implications of this.

Suddenly, the press, the media,

and the daily news
in particular,

were no longer observers
in this scenario,

but participants.

We were part of this story.

On June the 5th, the daily news

prints a dramatic excerpt
of the son of Sam's letter,

along with an invitation
from breslin to the killer.

"If he wants further contact,

all he has to do is call
or write me at thedaily news.

The time to do it is now."

The story flies off
the newsstands,

becoming the best-selling
edition of all time.

Residents of New York now
realize they're in the grip

of a crazed killer.

This has become
the summer of Sam.

Suddenly, we went overnight
from the .44 caliber killer

to son of Sam.

Is this part of a game?
You know?

It just ... you know,
it's like the city froze.

It's one of those crimes
that's been, I guess,

has been visited upon man
throughout the ages ...

a demented killer,

and you don't know
how to stop him.

Breslin's coverage
in the daily news

fuels rival newspapers.

Steve dunleavy
wrote about the son of Sam

for the New York post.

Every journalist involved,
we're looking for an edge,

any kind of an edge.

They had an artist's impression

of what he would look like.

They'd bring in psychiatrists

to say what kind of
an illness did he have.

One of the psychiatrists

that was interviewed

said that the son of Sam
is probably impotent

because of the gun and all.

You know how many calls
we got to the task force office,

women giving up impotent guys?

I mean, it was unbelievable.

We're all scared.
Cops were scared.

I was scared.
My wife was scared.

My kids were scared.

A bizarre, sick mind had
just declared war on New York.

The summer of 1977,

and New York
is gripped by terror.

A serial killer calling himself
the son of Sam

is stalking young couples,

and his threatening notes
to the police

and the press make it clear
he is calling the shots.

New York mayor Abe beame steps
up the hunt to catch the killer.

He increases the size
of the task force,

making it the largest
in New York's police history.

Since publication
of the son of Sam letter

to Jimmy breslin,

leads have been pouring in
to police,

including a promising one
from a parole officer.

He had gotten a letter

written in the same-type
handwriting as the son of Sam.

The letter writer has
a criminal record for robbery

and has been sending notes
to his parole officer,

his university professor,

and even to the police.

There was no way that we could
exclude him other than,

"let's put this guy
under surveillance,

go on and see what he does."

On the night of June 27, 1977,

police tail the suspect
into the New York subway.

He got on the subway and jumped
off at the last minute,

and the guys lost him.

At the same time
police lose their suspect,

17-year-old Judy placido

is among the dancers
at the elephas,

a popular nightclub in queens.

She's just
graduated high school,

and she's celebrating.

Every borough had its share
of discos, and I think elephas

was probably one of the more
popular ones in those days.

Police have
already identified the elephas

as a possible target.

They have a patrol car outside.

Inside, Judy placido has met
20-year-old Salvatore Lupo.

At about 3:00 A.M.,
he offers to take her home.

When finally they leave elephas,

they go to his car,
this red Cadillac,

and they sit in the car,

and they actually, ironically,
discuss the son of Sam.

Without warning,
a gunman approaches

and fires three shots
into the car.

One of the bullets
enters Judy's head,

spins around,
and stops just over her eye.

Think about those chances,

that getting hit by a .44

doesn't penetrate your skull.

Judy is hit
with all three shots,

and sal Lupo
is wounded in the arm.

The police patrol misses
the incident by mere minutes.

They had returned to the station
at the end of their shift.

I mean, I can't describe
to you the looks

on these two detectives' faces.

They must have thought
immediately,

"I hope it's not
the son of Sam."

But it turned out it was.

I went out
to the elephas shooting

shortly after it happened.

If you can imagine a scene
with police tape everywhere,

flashing lights, police lights,
ambulance lights,

and so you go kind of
hopelessly fumbling

from one cop to another,

asking people,
"did you see anything?

Did you hear anything?"

The answer to all
of those things was no.

You kept thinking, "how
is nobody catching this guy?

How is somebody
walking the streets

with a giant gun
and shooting people,

and nobody's seeing this?"

This guy has got to be
the luckiest guy in the world

that he can do these things
and nobody sees them, you know.

It was a hell
of a lot of pressure.

Every day, you were getting
calls from politicians,

the mayor's office,
the police commissioner.

"What do you got?

What do you hear?

But what are you working on?"

With no direct
witnesses to this attack,

police intensify surveillance
on their best suspect ...

the letter writer who eluded
officers on the subway.

In all this chaos,
little attention is paid

to some strange letters

reported by a civilian police
dispatcher named wheat carr.

Initially, the letters
that we received complaining

about the dog were disturbing.

They didn't make sense,
so we didn't put a whole lot

of credence to them initially.

The carr family live
in yonkers, Westchester county,

just a few miles
north of the Bronx.

She and her father, Sam,
had been getting

more and more anxious
about these strange letters

complaining
about their dog, Harvey.

"Samuel carr, I've asked
you kindly to stop that dog

from howling all day long.

I can see that there shall be
no peace in my life

or my family's life
until I end yours."

We had, all along,
been reporting the letters

and the threats
to the police department,

but still not taking it
as seriously as we should

until, one afternoon,
the dog, Harvey, was shot.

Wheat carr informs her
police colleagues in yonkers,

hoping that an investigation
will now be launched.

I became aware of it
after the dog was shot.

More than likely,
in those situations,

it's impossible
to prove who did it.

Sergeant novotny
looks into the case,

but nobody imagines

how these letters might link
to the son of Sam.

Back in the city, there are far
more serious matters to address.

A power blackout plunges
New York into darkness,

unleashing crime and chaos.

New York had
one of those little,

you know, New York moments
and went kind of nuts,

and just lootings and fires,

and it was a bad, bad night.

Eventually, though,
a lightning storm came through,

and so you would hear
all the sound,

and then
this lightning would hit,

and it would
illuminate the street,

and you suddenly
see people running,

and there would be
a cop car going by.

There would be all this
sort of going on

and just noise and glass
and screaming.

It felt really apocalyptic.

It really felt like New York
had finally come to an end.

But hovering over
all of this was the idea

that there was a serial killer
still running around.

The police
are no closer to finding him,

and so the growing sense

of desperation
leads anxious new yorkers

to take matters
into their own hands.

If the cops ain't gonna do
it, then citizens got to do it.

That's what I think.
Do it our way.

We'll have to do it our way.

But give him to US mothers.

That's who want to handle him.

Don't give him to the cops.

Don't give him to these boys.

Give him to US mothers.

We want to handle him
the way we want to.

Mike lauria, the
father of Sam's first victim,

Donna lauria, is among them.

I want to see this guy caught.

And I figure if I'm on patrol,
one night, I may spot him.

I know what goes on in my heart.

I know how I feel.

How could I say it?
I want this guy caught.

Dad needed to have
his pound of flesh somehow,

and I guess he thought

if that was
how it was gonna be,

then maybe he'd get lucky enough
to catch him.

As far as the police work
is concerned, I mean,

when you're a family
of a victim,

you never think
that they're doing enough.

Homicide detectives
unfortunately are left

with an impossible situation.

The only way random shootings
can be apprehended

is by the shootings continuing,

so it's almost a roulette wheel
of fate.

Bottom line is, if he stops
and goes up to live

on the top of a mountain,
you'll never get him.

He'll get away with everything
he's already done,

so it's kind of like
a catch-22 there.

While the city waits
with dread for the son of Sam

to strike again,

in yonkers, the carr family,

whose dog has been shot already,

experience an escalation

in the mysterious attacks
against them.

Not long after that is
when the house was firebombed,

or my bedroom was firebombed,
more accurately.

I think that is the point
at which we decided

we had to figure this out.

And then wheat learns
that another local family,

the cassaras,

have received
a similar threatening letter.

When the two families meet,
the cassaras provide

the frightening final piece
of the puzzle.

Their son brought up the fact
that they had had a tenant

that had some sort of an issue
about a dog,

and also a dog
in their neighborhood

had turned up dead.

The publication
of the son of Sam's letter

to Jimmy breslin

suggests
who might be tormenting them.

Wheat's father is Sam carr,
and in his letter,

the killer refers
to a king of wicker.

In yonkers, the carr family
lives off wicker street.

The letter also mentions
a John wheaties,

and wheat's brother
is called John.

Our letters, the breslin
letters, and the cassaras'

was obviously the same person.

The evidence is circumstantial,

but wheat manages to convince
a handful of yonkers' cops

to sit up and take notice.

In looking
at these three documents,

the totality of the three
of them together

all give important clues.

There's a little in each one.

When they showed me,
they also convinced me.

I tried numerous times
to contact

the task force in queens.

The phone number that I had
was continuously busy,

which frustrated me.

People come up with all kinds
of wild scenarios

about who the shooter is,

and if you've got 1,000 reports
coming in in a week,

most of it is worthless.

July 29th will be

the son of Sam's
first anniversary,

exactly a year since he began
a terrible rampage

that's already left
five people dead

and six others injured.

The police here at
the special homicide task force

are hoping that the so-called
.44 caliber killer

doesn't try and celebrate
his anniversary in blood.

"Tell me, Jim, what
will you have for July 29th?

You must not forget
Donna lauria.

Sam's a thirsty lad, and
he won't let me stop killing

until he gets
his fill of blood."

That infuriated my father

because it was making it sound
as though it was someone he knew

and that he cared about her.

It was almost this level ...

you know, he developed
this interest in her.

The night before
the anniversary, Jimmy breslin

once again writes to the killer
in his newspaper column.

Jimmy, in my interpretation
of it, he was taunting him,

trying to get him
to send him another letter.

"Is tomorrow night, July 29th,

so significant to him

that he must go out
and find a victim,

or will he sit alone
and look out his attic window

to be thrilled by his power,

this power that will have him

in the newspapers
and on television

and in the thoughts
and conversations

of most of the young people
in this city?"

July 29, 1977.

It's the anniversary of
the son of Sam's first murder.

And the fear is that he will
Mark the day with an attack.

But the anniversary
passes off without incident.

And residents breathe
a sigh of relief.

Two days later, Bobby violante,
a young man from Brooklyn,

heads out on his first date
with Stacy moskowitz.

I was looking very forward
to that evening.

I'm getting ready to go out,

and I'm walking down
the stairs from my house,

and my mom turned to me,

and she says,
"now, Robert, just be careful."

"Don't worry," I said,
"mom, I'm going out

with a blonde tonight."

Everybody knows
the son of Sam's preference

for brunettes,
so the couple isn't nervous.

They're going out in Brooklyn,
a borough well outside

the killer's territory
in the Bronx and queens.

Bobby and Stacy go to a movie,
then go get a bite at jasmines.

From my point of view,
the date was going great, also.

I mean, we just had a really,
really nice time.

Now they go to park
in this Gravesend bay area

where all the kids park.

That was the make-out area.

So, right over there
is the lamppost

where I was parked 40 years ago.

Police officer
Mike cataneo and his partner

are also in the area,
watching for trouble

and writing
the occasional parking ticket.

It was a beautiful, gorgeous
summer night, full moon.

And every cop will tell you,
"when it's a full moon,

be careful.

The crazies are out."

We always said that.

They probably
still say it today.

That area, I guess because
it's so densely populated,

very often, there's cars
parked on a hydrant

for the entire night.

That bothered me.

I'm not a ticket writer.
I never was.

But that ...
you could cost somebody a life.

After ticketing the car,

cataneo finds a pair of lovers

who are parked
in a popular make-out spot.

The area's not well lit.

It's very quiet, especially
at night after midnight.

Kids know it's there.

We actually chased a couple
of kids out of there.

And we're going out there
and start yelling at them,

"are you nuts?!
Do you read the paper?!"

First thing
out of that kid's mouth ...

"he didn't come
to Brooklyn yet!"

We drove away,
and off they went.

I think
it was approximately around,

like, 1:00 in the morning.

We went to go play on the swings
like two little kids.

As we were going up
to the swings,

I see just some guy hanging out
at the park house.

Didn't pay any mind to him.

We just walked by him.

And then we were playing on
the swings for about 10 minutes,

and then she's starting
to get a little nervous.

She was saying, "Robert, let's
go and go back to the car."

I said, "okay."

As Bobby and Stacy
walk back to their car,

another couple is parked
right in front of them.

Tommy zaino is trying
to impress his date, Debbie,

with his blue corvette.

It was a nice car, yes.

The ladies loved the car.

When I came back
into the car, she said,

"Robert, let's get going.

You know, I feel
a little nervous sitting here."

And I turned to her, and I said,
"all right, stace."

I said, "how about we just
stay five more minutes,

and then we'll go?"

What happened next...

Really tough to know
just exactly what happened.

I noticed somebody
walking out of the park,

and he was walking towards
the car behind me.

He looked like
he was gonna get into the car

or talk to somebody in the car.

But he pulled something
out of his pocket,

got into a stance,
and started firing into the car.

And then, the next thing I know,

everything just went blank.

I don't think we were three,
four minutes, five minutes away.

Boom.
Shots fired.

Go down there,
and there's the two kids.

I said, "my god."

I can't forget that stuff.

I never seen anything
like that happen.

It looked like somebody
was making a movie.

It didn't look real.

Everything was flashing
through my head

that this could
have been the guy.

This could have been
the son of Sam.

I started the car
and took off as fast

as I could
to the police station.

I didn't even stop at lights.

I must have got there
in a couple seconds.

I pulled right up to them,
and I told them,

"I think somebody got shot
down near the park."

So, then the next thing I did
was, I opened the car door.

I wrapped my arm around the pole

and honked the horn as long
as I could till it died out.

The four shots went off,
and we knew it was shots.

It had to be.

And I said to my girlfriend,
"those were shots."

And then this horn
started beeping incessantly,

and then it stopped,
and then it beeped again.

And then this man
started screaming,

"help me, god.
Help me."

I was yelling out for help,

and then I collapsed
over the roof of the car.

And he was covered with blood.

And the girl
was covered with blood.

It was a horror.

Bobby violante
has been blinded in the attack.

Stacy moskowitz has also been
badly wounded.

She's rushed to the hospital,
but dies the following day.

I'll still tell you.

I lost
something very dear to me.

Great kid.

But most important
are the people,

that an animal should snuff
away a life of a young girl,

blind a young boy,

and has killed others
and will probably go on killing.

An animal like this
has to be caught.

I was in the hospital
for about a month and a half.

I was asking for Stacy
to see how she was doing,

and they hadn't told me
for almost a week later

that she had passed away.

And she had actually
passed away only 18 hours

after we were brought
to the hospital,

but they didn't want
to tell me right away

because, you know,

all that I was
having to deal with.

I gave him the news
about his eyes yesterday,

and he accepted it like a man.

My son Robert

is more of a man
than I could ever be.

It was a comfort to know
that she had liked me,

and I liked her,

and we had a really nice time
that night.

And the sad part was
about knowing, possibly,

how many other nice nights

we could have had together
if things would have worked out,

but it was a comfort
to know that one night

I had shared with her,

that it was a really nice night.

After the shooting
of Robert violante

and Stacy moskowitz in Brooklyn,

new yorkers are faced
with a terrifying reality.

The kill zone is no longer
limited to the Bronx and queens.

"No one is safe."

And it wasn't a scare tactic,
believe me,

because no one was safe.

The son of Sam task force

has lost many of its best leads.

A frantic call to bill Clark

quickly eliminates
their prime suspect.

He's still tailing the man
who slipped away

the night
of the elephas shooting.

The night
of the Stacy moskowitz shooting,

I was sitting outside of
his apartment, surveilling him.

And I get a call ...
"make sure he's in there.

If he's in there,
then come on down here."

'Cause then
he couldn't have done it.

So I go up
to his apartment door,

and when he comes to the door,

it was all I could do
not to wring his neck.

Brooklyn homicide
joins the investigation,

and the hope is that
their local contacts

will generate new leads.

William gardella is assigned
to this latest murder.

To me, this was going to be the
biggest challenge of my life,

having this case.

And a new lead
is about to break the case open.

The son of Sam
has made his first mistake.

August 1977.

The son of Sam
has now struck in Brooklyn,

extending his killing ground
across the whole of New York.

Detectives from Brooklyn
now join the hunt,

leaving no stone unturned.

When we were
conducting a canvass,

questioning people
at their doors,

we typically would ask,
were they out that night?

Did they hear the shots?

When they heard the shots,
what was their response?

Did they call 911?

Finally, we checked
for summonses.

A summons places a person,
a vehicle, at a specific place

and a specific time.

Those people
are potential witnesses.

Joe strano come up
with a witness.

Her name was Cecilia Davis.

I seen a man coming up
from down that tree there,

and as the dog
pulled towards the man,

the man come towards me,

and he looked me
straight in the face.

He looked at my dog,

and right here,
we crossed each other.

But she also told detectives,

"I saw an officer
giving summonses."

As parking tickets
are filed by hand,

it takes police nearly a week

to track down
the crucial summons.

It's the one
officer Mike cataneo

wrote the night of the murder,

just blocks from where Bobby
and Stacy were gunned down.

One of the summonses was issued
to a David berkowitz,

35 pine street,
yonkers, New York.

What was someone
living in yonkers

doing there at that moment?

This was important to follow up
on because the person

could have been a witness,

could have been the killer,

could have been somebody

visiting somebody in the area,
you know.

You don't know.

It's a promising lead,

so the detectives contact
yonkers police about berkowitz.

In an amazing coincidence,

the dispatcher who takes
the call is wheat carr,

the woman whose family believes

they're being threatened
by the son of Sam.

This, remarkably,
is the same man ...

David berkowitz.

On the night of August the 9th,
I was working 3:00 to 11:00

and answered a call,

and I honestly thought,
"god.

They finally found the pieces
of paper Sam gave them,

and they're following up on it."

And he said, "we're following up
on a parking ticket,

and we'd like you
to make a notification

to someone who might be
a possible witness."

Wheat carr, taking the call,
stops the officer and said,

"you don't want to speak
to this person as a witness.

My family has been
having trouble with him."

This guy was asking me to send
two cops to knock on the door

of someone I firmly believed
to be a serial killer.

Wheat carr finally has
the full attention of the NYPD.

Up to this point, there have
been so many false leads.

Is this finally the breakthrough
they've been looking for?

As soon as I walked
into the office,

sergeant shea says,

"we got something
going up in yonkers."

Bill gardella and
a team of detectives is sent up

to yonkers
to find David berkowitz.

He has no idea what to expect.

Is he a witness,
or is wheat carr right?

Could this be the killer?

"Please inform
all the detectives

working on the case that I wish
them the best of luck.

Think positive, get off
your butts, knock on coffins."

We're on the block
where David berkowitz lives.

That's his apartment
building over there.

Our unmarked police car
was parked right about here,

right here.

There was one car
in front of US,

and there was a Van similar
to this, but higher parked here.

And berkowitz's Ford galaxy

was, I would say,
right about here.

The first officer
on the scene searches the car

and alerts his superiors.

In the back is a duffel bag
containing guns.

In the front,
a letter with a message

that is all too familiar.

It is a note the son of Sam
intended to be left at the scene

of his next murder.

The letter said,
"I'm coming out.

You can't stop me."

And at that moment,
we knew this is him.

"Bullets
crackle in a quiet town.

The sounds of running feet

and screams of anguish
fill the air."

At this moment, they have no
idea if berkowitz is by himself.

It could be a hostage situation.

They have no idea
if he's armed.

The assumption has to be
that he will come with a fight

or with guns blazing.

Two of my detectives,
I had them on the rear,

watching his fire escape,

while we were parked
in our unmarked car over here.

Four against
the potential son of Sam.

We should have had more people,
but that was not my decision.

That was not my decision.

We didn't have bulletproof vests
at that time.

This is what you have.
This is what you're going to do.

The detectives
wait until about 10:00 P.M.

When a man finally emerges

and heads to the car
they're staking out.

He's carrying a paper bag
shaped in a triangle.

He takes that and throws it
on the seat next to him.

The son of Sam
is armed with his .44.

He's going hunting.

I jumped out of the car,
took my gun out,

ran down the sidewalk.

And his front passenger window

was lowered about 6 inches.

I came up, put the gun
through the window.

He had his hand
on the ignition key.

He had just turned
on the ignition,

and I screamed at him, "police.
Don't you move your hands.

Don't you go for a gun.
I'll open up on you."

I'm cursing, screaming,
yelling at him,

trying to put the fear
of god in him.

And what was his response?

He kept his hand
on the ignition key,

and he slowly turns his head
like this and smiles.

Just smiled.

And I've got a gun
pointed 2 feet from him.

He didn't flinch.

He just kept that smile.

I ran around.

John put him,
and he rear-cuffed him.

And then he says to ...

berkowitz says
to the three of US,

he says, "well,"
he said, "you got me.

And what took you so long?"

This has been
the largest manhunt

in New York's history,

and bill gardella is
the first police officer

to look upon the face
of the son of Sam.

When I was standing
in the street

and that car was pulling away
with him in it,

it hit me what the impact
of what we just did is.

I remember standing there
and seeing that car leave.

And I said, "wow.
This is...

We've stopped these murders."

It was a good feeling.

It was a good feeling.

Good evening.

The most intensive manhunt in
New York City's history is over.

This is the man police believe
to be the son of Sam,

the .44 caliber killer,
who has killed six

and wounded seven
in a string of attacks

over the last 13 months.

He had this peculiar
smiling grin that,

I think, me and, I think,
20 million other people said,

"you know,
what is this all about?"

I wanted to slap the smirk
off his face.

I was so angry.

It was the Mona Lisa smile,
a lot of people would say.

David had never been the center
of attraction to anyone,

and now he was suddenly

the center
of attention of the world.

When I got down
to police headquarters,

it was so exciting,
it was, like, surreal.

It was surreal
'cause there he is.

There he is.

I just had to see myself

what he looked like, you know?

He looked like
he was enjoying it.

That's the impression I got.

And we let each individual
detective that had the case

go in and interview him.

"And are you the man who
shot and killed Donna lauria

and wounded Jody valenti?"

"Yes, I am."

When he was answering
the questions

that were asked of him,

he went into specifics,
how he killed.

He was stoic.

He was like a statue.

"I just emptied my gun in the
car and saw the glass shatter.

And the other girl, I believe
she screamed and blew the horn,

and I found myself
pulling the trigger,

and I had already
run out of bullets."

He was as crazy as a bedbug.

His explanation of why
he did these things

was because a dog told him
to do it.

"He told me through his dog.

It's not really a dog.

It looks like a dog."

It was almost like,
"it wasn't myfault.

It was theirfault.
I was being ordered to."

And he was happy it was over.

When the police search
berkowitz's apartment

to obtain more evidence,

they are about to enter

the chilling world
of a serial killer.

The police had finally
captured the son of Sam

and identified the killer
as David berkowitz.

He is taken into custody,

and a search of
his apartment begins.

The windows are blacked out.

Graffiti is scrawled
all over the walls.

The place leaves
a terrifying impression

on those who witness it.

Walking into that apartment,

I can't explain the feeling.

This is where he is.
This is where he was.

And then,
looking into that apartment,

looking on the wall.

A small hole in the wall

and writing around that hole.

This is where he talked to Sam.

He was commanded
by Sam carr's dog

through this hole in the wall.

The following morning,
August the 11th, 1977,

new yorkers
wake up to the news.

Everyone was so happy that
this man had finally been found.

The exhilaration of that.

That was the first thing
I heard this morning.

It was fantastic.
It was great.

It made me feel great.

It made me feel that they
finally caught the son of a gun,

and now the city
was safe again.

Once berkowitz had been
finally captured and identified,

people still wanted
to know more about him.

How could he have done this?

Why did he do this?

And then his bizarre story,
the story of the dog.

David berkowitz

believes that the barking
of the dog

was how his demonic master

delivered
his instructions to kill.

The press spotlight falls
onto the dog's owner, Sam carr.

The press was camped out
by 10:00 in the morning,

wanting to know about,
was the dog evil,

or did the dog
ever talk to them,

or weird nonsense like that.

We had a whole new set
of people calling in threats

because they thought
that the stories

they read in the post
meant my father

really was telling this guy
to go out and commit murders.

The nation is
fascinated by the son of Sam's

bizarre demonic explanation
of his killings.

Will these delusions
also protect him

from criminal prosecution?

Since his arrest,
David berkowitz has been held

in the psychiatric wing
of kings county hospital

under the supervision
of Dr. Daniel Schwartz.

He has to be examined
to ascertain whether or not

there is any mental disease

or defect that prevents him

from understanding the charges
against him

or assisting in his defense.

I spent many hours with him.

I heard a very,
very involved story.

I thought that his description
of demonology

was delusional thinking.

Forgive me if I don't
believe in demonology.

His explanation involved a very
complex series of beliefs.

They were logical.

They were connected.

"All my life, I've been wild,
cruel, and destructive.

There's no doubt in my mind
that a demon

has been living
in me since birth."

The examination of berkowitz

provides an in-depth picture
of his early life.

He was given up for adoption
at birth by his mother.

His adoptive parents,
Pearl and Nate berkowitz,

gave him all the love
and care they could,

but it wasn't easy.

David was always a bit strange.

He was a loner and,
at a certain age,

started an interest in girls.

The girls tended not
to like him.

As David grew up,
he was unable to fit in.

He enlisted in the military.

That only made matters worse.

He was a very lost, lonely,
despondent young man,

and he was looking for meaning
and purpose in his life.

And he began to find something
in the form of satanism.

The demons that emerge

are the justification
berkowitz uses

to vent his anger
at young women.

His earlier career
was climbing fire escapes

and peeking into women
changing their clothes.

Berkowitz
was on a downward spiral.

He made one last attempt
to reach out

and connect with someone.

He searches out his real mother,
biological mother,

tries to kind of become
part of that family,

but like everything else,
even fails at that.

Berkowitz was furious
when he learned he had been

the unwanted result
of an extramarital affair,

possibly even conceived
in the backseat

of a parked car.

His killing spree began
shortly afterwards.

But are his demons real
or simply an excuse

to escape criminal justice?

A person cannot be brought
to trial, to any proceeding,

if the person is not competent.

You go to a hospital,
and you sit,

and that can be
an indefinite period.

"I am not well, not at all,
having dogs talk to me

and being controlled
by demons."

It sounds like he's saying
what he thinks he needs to

in order
to get the courts to cooperate

and put him in a hospital
as opposed to prison.

"I don't want to stay
behind the walls forever."

Yeah, I bet you don't.

"I owe society a chance to make
myself good and repay them

for all the troubles

I caused as a result
of my illness."

Only Dr. Schwartz
has the authority to determine

if the son of Sam
is fit to stand trial.

The nation waits to hear
what he will decide.

Since the arrest of August 10th,

David berkowitz has been held

in the psychiatric wing
of kings county hospital

while the prosecution case
is being built against him.

The psychiatrist evaluating
whether or not he is fit

to stand trial
is Daniel Schwartz.

On August 30, 1977,
we submitted our report

that he was not fit to proceed.

That certainly isn't
what the people wanted,

and that probably
isn't what the court

or district attorney wanted.

There were questions
as to whether or not berkowitz

was playing the system

and was playing
the psychiatrists.

The prosecutors do not
accept Dr. Schwartz's findings

and seek a second opinion.

It will be, and is,
the position of my office

that this defendant is
competent to proceed to trial.

The state now says
to the court,

"these psychiatrists
are not right,

and we're gonna hire
still one more."

They should have said,
"we're gonna hire one more

who will see it our way."

Public anger is appeased,

and the new examination

overturns
Dr. Schwartz's decision

and rules that berkowitz
is sane enough to stand trial.

But then, in a sudden
and dramatic reversal,

he pleads guilty to all charges
ahead of the trial.

He refused to use
an insanity defense

because he needed the world
to understand

the danger of the demons
that are present,

and if he said he was insane,

then the warning
would not be heeded.

As berkowitz has pled
guilty to the charges,

there can be no trial,

and so his next appearance
is for sentencing.

And on may 22nd, 1978,

he is called before the court.

The public was riveted,
and you had a situation

that was almost like
a three-ring circus,

and berkowitz himself
was the ringmaster.

This is the last
chance for his victims,

like Bobby violante,

and families of the deceased,

like neysa moskowitz,
mother of Stacy,

to witness justice being done,

but things don't go
according to plan.

The judge ordered to bring
the defendant in,

and he came in almost like
in a prayer mode

with his hands
clasped over his handcuffs

and chanting
in a singsong manner,

"Stacy is a whore.

Stacy is a whore,"

knowing full well that
neysa moskowitz would be there.

She had been very vocal
in saying

that he should get
the death penalty,

and clearly, David berkowitz
didn't like that.

It enraged everyone in there,
obviously ...

reporters, everyone.

I really couldn't
control myself.

Anybody with any heart at all,
any emotions,

wouldn't have been able
to control themselves either,

what he said,

and I feel very angry

that it was even
permitted to happen.

Berkowitz said
he didn't want to be sentenced.

He kicked and bit some of five
officers trying to move him.

Two officers were hurt,
but not seriously

before berkowitz was
finally subdued.

It appeared to me
that what we were seeing

was, the side of the person,

perhaps, that had been,
you know,

present for the murders

suddenly is visible
on the outside.

Berkowitz is sentenced

to six consecutive
life sentences,

a total of 365 years.

He is still serving
that sentence and has continued

to attract public interest

for the last 40 years.

He has become
a born-again Christian.

The son of Sam now calls
himself the son of hope.

He has an online ministry
preaching redemption

and reaching out
to other lost souls.

God has given me
a whole new life.

My testimony has gone
into many prisons and jails,

giving men and women
a hope, you know,

that god forgives sins,

that he does redeem people,

that even if you're in prison,
god will not reject you.

Everybody in prison
finds one god or another,

or say they do.

Personally, I wish
he would have met god

rather than be sitting
in prison talking about it.

I don't believe him,
that he found god.

I don't believe him.

Doesn't make up for all those
young women that he killed.

It's now 40 years

since the son of Sam's reign
of terror came to an end,

yet he and his crimes
remain with US to this day.

Many people don't even
know the name David berkowitz.

But son of Sam?
Yeah.

Everyone knows son of Sam.

It is part
of our popular culture.

Here we are 40 years later.

Parents have died, brothers
and sisters have grown up,

but they can't
outlive the saga.

Am I still sad?
Yeah.

I'm still sad about it.

Do I miss her?

I miss her immensely.
I do.

I miss her beyond words.

It's a lifetime.
It's your entire lifetime.

It never goes away.

It never gets better.

You just find ways to manage it.

Everything changed that night.

In fact, so much changed

that I wasn't even aware
of half the changes.

There were so many things
that I wasn't able to do ...

not drive a car ever again,

not play sports ever again.

I could never forgive him
for what he's done.

This was a, you know, kind of
a horrendous time for all of US,

and it leaves an impact.

Something you don't forget.

Do I want to forget it?

I'm not sure.

Do I want to put it behind me?

I'm not sure.

But it is what it is.

I feel much safer
walking the streets of New York.

Everyone was so happy

that this man
had finally been found.

My son Robert is more
of a man than I could ever be.

He came out of the dark.

Talking about their future.

They were planning a wedding.

She spoke from the heart.

A bizarre, sick mind.

That name caught fire.

It was so exciting,
it was, like, surreal.

And there's
this very pretty young girl.

It felt like the world's
most dangerous amusement park.

"We got to solve this."