All language subtitles for Unsolved.Mysteries.S07E19.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP2.0.H.264-BTW_track3_[eng]

NARRATOR: This program is
about unsolved mysteries.

Whenever possible, the
actual family members

and police officials
have participated

in recreating the events.

What you are about to see
is not a news broadcast.

ROBERT STACK: The Ouija board--

to some an entertaining
parlor game; to others,

a strange and
wondrous instrument,

able to bridge the gap between
the living and the dead.

It may sound unbelievable,
but tonight we'll

bring you the remarkable case
of Pearl Curran, who claimed

that through the
Ouija board, she

became the earthly conduit
for a literary spirit named

Patience Worth.

September, 1993--
a motel manager

reports an abandoned
car in his parking lot.

The vehicle belongs
to Justin Burgwinkel,

an Army enlisted man
who had apparently

gone AWOL three months earlier.

To Justin's parents,
the discovery

was the latest twist in
a dark scenario that may

have led to their son's death.

At first, it seemed like
a routine drug case--

a few grams of cocaine
smuggled across state lines

in a box of clothes.

But then a fistful of
suspicious $100 bills

put investigators on the
trail of a king's ransom

in bogus C-notes.

Now authorities need
your help to capture

one of the most prolific
counterfeiters in history.

Join me.

Perhaps you hold the key.

Perhaps you may be able
to help solve a mystery.

[music playing]

ROBERT STACK: The Ouija board--

modern face of a
timeless instrument,

revered for nearly
3,000 years as a method

to predict the
future and contact

the spirits of the dead.

For all its alleged powers, the
Ouija is disarmingly simple--

nothing more than a
flat piece of wood

adorned with
letters and numbers.

Hands resting
lightly on a pointer,

one of the participants
asks a question.

Supposedly, the indicator
will move of its own accord

and spell out an answer.

The Ouija board first became
popular in the United States

during the 1890s,
when it was marketed

as a provocative parlor game.

A century later, the board
is still a best seller

and still handing out
answers that push the limits

of scientific explanation.

Consider the case of Gaynell
Rawley of Dunkirk, New York.

Some years ago, Gaynell was
musing about a trip to Scotland

when she playfully asked the
Ouija board for more details.

Gaynell's husband looked
on from the kitchen.

I wonder who I'm going to
go to Scotland with, who I'm

going to cross the border with?

I didn't really ask
the Ouija board that.

I just said it,
kind of sarcastic--

who's going to be with me
when I go across the border?

That's what I'd like to know.

Whoa, whoa!

ROBERT STACK: Gaynell says
that without hesitation,

the pointer began to move.

O N--

ROBERT STACK: Soon the
baffling answer was complete--

J. D. MacDonald.

The Rawleys did not
know a single person

with that last name.

Well, J.D. MacDonald.

Fun now, huh?

ROBERT STACK: Six months
later, the Rawleys

were steaming across England,
headed for the Scottish border.

They got the shock
of a lifetime when

they were approached by a
fellow passenger, a stranger.

Hi, I'm J.D. MacDonald.

I'm from Sydney, Australia.

GAYNELL RAWLEY: The
minute she said it,

I remembered the
Ouija board saying it.

Yeah, I'm Gay Rawley.

It stunned me so that I
started to kind of laugh,

and I must have acted a little
strange, because the woman

kind of pulled back, startled.

Oh, New York.

Oh, of course.

ROBERT STACK: J. D. MacDonald.

The Rawleys continue to wonder
if their startling encounter

was simply a coincidence or
proof positive that the Ouija

board has supernatural powers.

The Rawley's experience,
though hardly earthshaking,

is nonetheless a
fitting introduction

to the most remarkable
Ouija episode of all time.

Beginning in 1913 and
continuing for several years,

the lively spirit of a
17th century English woman

named Patience Worth reportedly
spoke through the board

from beyond the grave.

And by all accounts,
Patience wasn't

content with a simple hello.

She composed plays, novels, and
countless poems, an astounding

body of work filling
some 30 volumes that

has yet to be fully explained.

The unlikely recipient of
these unworldly contacts

was Pearl Curran, wife of
a prosperous St. Louis,

Missouri, businessman.

Until Patience came
calling, Pearl apparently

had no interest in the occult--

no creative activities
beyond a love of music.

Pearl Curran had
a very close friend

named Emily Grant
Hutchings, who was

a very active freelance writer.

Mrs. Hutchings became
interested in spiritualism

and the Ouija board.

She persuaded Pearl Curran to
take part in some experiments

with the Ouija
board around 1912.

As far as we know, Mrs.
Curran was very reluctant.

Emily, I think
you've gotten carried

away with this Ouija board.

I really do.

I haven't.

It's like ether, the gasses--

ROBERT STACK: Once a
week for nearly a year,

Pearl gamely played along
to humor her friend.

However, the Ouija produced
little more than gibberish.

Emily, what book
have you been reading?

ROBERT STACK: On many
evenings, Pearl's mother

joined the session, notebook
in hand, just in case.

M A N--

ROBERT STACK: On July
8, 1913, the women

had barely taken their places
when the pointer suddenly

began whipping across
the board, selecting

letters in a dizzying rush.

I L I--

ROBERT STACK: To the
amazement of all present,

the letters formed words;
the words, a sentence.

Many moons ago, I lived.

Again, I come.

Patience Worth, my name.

Oh!

It's a message.

Patience?

That's a Quaker name.

ROBERT STACK: It was
a modest beginning.

But soon the women
truly began to believe

that the spirit of Patience
Worth, a young Englishwoman

dead some 250
years, was reaching

out through the Ouija board.

S C R--

ROBERT STACK: Over
the next few months,

Patience began to
dictate literary works

in an archaic style,
sprinkled with words

like "thee" and "thou."

O N S--

IRVING LITVAG: Well, the
language of Patience Worth

was one of the many, many
baffling things in this case.

It apparently was an
amalgam or a melange

of words from many different
times in English history.

And Patience was often
asked, why do you speak

in such difficult language?

And her answer, in
effect, was, I do this

because if I spoke
in a simpler way

you would assume it was
Mrs. Curran speaking.

And it's not Mrs.
Curran speaking.

It's Patience Worth speaking.

ROBERT STACK: And Patience
was speaking volumes.

I L--

ROBERT STACK: By 1915, when
Pearl's husband John assumed

the job of transcribing
the sessions,

Patience was dictating for
hours on end, producing from 500

to 3,000 words at a sitting.

John!

Oh, Mr. Reedy, I'm
just so glad you came.

ROBERT STACK: Friends
and curiosity seekers

flocked to St. Louis to
witness the astounding creation

of poems, plays, and novels.

Mr. Reedy, this
is my wife, Pearl.

How do you do?

ROBERT STACK: One of those
who came to see the spectacle

for himself was William
M. Reedy, publisher

of a respected literary journal.

Oh, I don't believe
in this sort of thing.

It is rather amazing.

This is the Ouija board.

Um-hmm.

Patience, would you
like to greet Mr. Reedy?

A--

ROBERT STACK:
Patience replied with

characteristic irreverence,
roughly translated--

Hello, Mr. Fat and Wide.

E.

Fat and wide?

She doesn't mean anything.

She just does
nonsense sometimes.

She certainly does.

Mr. Reedy, how would you
like to join in and ask

Patience a question yourself?

Do you suppose Patience would
continue her work on the novel

if I have my hands on it?

Why don't we see?

Well--

ROBERT STACK: By the
end of the session,

William Reedy was enchanted.

Yes.

Yes!

ROBERT STACK: His enthusiastic
articles helped propel the case

to international prominence.

Reedy never was willing
to admit that Patience

Worth was indeed a spirit.

He never would go that far.

But what he did proclaim, and
he proclaimed it again and again

in his journal, was the
literary merit of the writings

of Patience Worth.

In fact, he said that these
were extremely, extremely

remarkable writings,
almost unparalleled

in literary history.

ROBERT STACK: The
praise continued

when Patience completed a
full-length novel, "The Sorry

Tale."

Despite its mysterious
origins, the book

was snapped up by publishing
giant Henry Holt & Company.

IRVING LITVAG: "The Sorry Tale"
was a novel about Palestine

at the time of Jesus.

A leading historian in St.
Louis reviewed "The Sorry Tale"

and he said,
unquestionably, this

is the greatest book about
Jesus written since the gospels.

Now, for a
distinguished historian

to write something of this
kind was almost unheard of,

because he was putting
his career on the line

by taking this position
about the writings of someone

purporting to be a spirit.

Patience Worth was a
spirit from the 16th century

as far as Pearl
Curran is concerned.

ROBERT STACK: Stoker
Hunt, author of "Ouija,

the Most Dangerous Game."

--probably the best
documented case of Ouija

work in the Western world.

She did-- she produced
masterpiece after masterpiece--

hailed at the time
as masterpieces.

Her poetry was published
in very sophisticated

books, magazines of poetry.

ROBERT STACK: Indeed,
the "New York Times"

gave "The Sorry Tale" a rousing
review, saying it was written

with, quote, "the precision and
the accuracy of a master hand."

However, the acclaim
was not universal.

Some skeptics accused
Pearl Curran of fraud.

They charged that she would
memorize stories all day, then

at the sessions pass
off the information

as coming from Patience Worth.

IRVING LITVAG:
The investigators,

and there were a number of them
who really looked into the case

very carefully,
found that there was

just no truth in these stories.

Everybody agreed
that Pearl Curran

lived the average, typical life
of a housewife during the day.

She would clean her house.

She would go grocery shopping.

She was not poring
over books all day.

ROBERT STACK: A different
theory was advanced

by the scientific community.

Perhaps Patience
Worth and her writings

were creations of Pearl
Curran's subconscious mind.

IRVING LITVAG: Pearl Curran
came from working-class parents.

Her father was a railroad man.

She quit school at the
age of 13 and, apparently,

neither before nor
after that ever evinced

any particular interest
in reading or literature

or anything of that kind.

All of a sudden this
provincial St. Louis housewife

had a separate personality that
was capable of writing works

that the "New York Times"
labeled the works of a genius?

I just don't see how
science can so readily

explain this phenomenon away.

ROBERT STACK: The books
and poems, incredible

as they seemed,
were overshadowed

by yet another facet of
this astonishing case.

The Currans, childless after
nine years of marriage,

finally decided to adopt at
the persistent urging of none

other than Patience Worth.

In August of 1960, Pearl
and John made arrangements

with a widow who
was unable to care

for the baby she was
expecting, a baby Patience

predicted would be a girl.

For many, the
episode would provide

convincing evidence
that supernatural powers

were at work.

N O--

IRVING LITVAG: One
evening, Patience

was busily dictating when
precisely at 8:00 PM,

she suddenly stopped.

And she said in her own
words, "This is enough.

How can I go on
weaving"-- which is

what she called her writing--

"when something of this
importance is happening?"

And she refused to continue.

John, I'm suddenly
feeling very faint.

Come, darling, let
me take you upstairs.

ROBERT STACK: Later that
evening, the Currans

received electrifying news.

The child they planned to
adopt was born at 8 PM--

born at precisely the moment
Patience had interrupted

her Ouija dictation.

Just as Patience had
foretold, the infant

turned out to be a girl.

It was the first of several
uncanny coincidences

noted by the Currans.

IRVING LITVAG:
They further found,

after visiting the
child, that the baby

had red hair and brown eyes--

the exact coloration
that Patience Worth

often had claimed for herself.

They also found out that
the mother of the child

had ancestry that
was English-Scotch,

and this was the very same
ancestry that Patience

Worth had claimed for herself.

We're going to
call her Patience--

Patience Worth Curran.

ROBERT STACK: For most
spirits this would have

been accomplishment enough.

However, Patience Worth
continued to dictate

through the Ouija board.

And a second novel,
entitled "Hope Trueblood,"

hit the stores in 1918.

The communication between
Pearl and Patience

continued unabated
for another 19 years.

Pearl's husband, John,
transcribed the sessions

until his death in 1922.

In 1930, at the urging
of a close friend,

Pearl moved from St.
Louis to Los Angeles.

In November of 1937 the
legacy of Patience Worth

drew to a close with a
disquieting prediction.

Patience has shown
me the end of the road.

So it's time for you to
carry on as best you can.

I'm a bit tired.

And I think I'm going to go in.

ROBERT STACK: Pearl Curran
was apparently healthy

when she uttered those words.

Inexplicably, she fell
ill within two weeks.

Within another
week she was dead.

The voice of Patience
Worth had been stilled.

Over the course of 24
years, Patience Worth

dictated some 4 million words.

Her poetry appeared
in respected journals.

Her novels basked
in critical acclaim.

But was Patience Worth really
a ghost who communicated

through Pearl Curran?

Perhaps the best answer
came from Patience herself.

After relentless
questioning by a skeptic,

Patience shot back a
challenge-- essentially,

if you're so sure this is a
trick, let's see you do it.

Next, join the hunt for
a master counterfeiter

who printed up millions
in bogus bills.

Day in and day out, it
is a never-ending battle

along thousands
of miles of border

at dozens of checkpoints.

Customs agents face
long odds trying

to choke off the stream
of drugs flooding

the United States from Mexico.

But every now and
then, officials

get an unexpected break.

In January of 1995, an
alert shipping clerk

in the border town of
Brownsville, Texas,

tipped off authorities to
suspected narcotics activity.

Investigators
jumped on the lead.

They never dreamed that
their routine drug case would

take a surprising
twist, and blow

the cover of a
master counterfeiter

who was literally
making millions.

It all started when
a man named John

Vogel sent a package to his
business address in Minnesota.

What are you shipping today?

What do you mean?

What's inside the box?

Well, what did I
put down on the form?

You wrote down "clothes."

Yeah, that's right--

clothes.

And it's going to Minnesota?

Yeah.

CHRISTOPHER KAWATERS: The clerk
was suspicious with Vogel's

answers to the questions.

Being that it's on a border town
and being cognizant drugs do

originate out of Mexico
into the United States,

she contacted US
customs officials.

One, two, three,
four-- there you go.

Customs officials arranged for
a drug-sniffing dog to come in.

The dog alerted or
hit on the package

for the presence of narcotics.

Customs officials then
arranged for the package

to be forwarded on to Minnesota.

Let's see what we got here.

ROBERT STACK: Local
police and customs

agents were waiting
for the parcel

when it arrived in Minnesota.

A search warrant allowed
them to inspect the contents.

If I was a betting man--

CHRISTOPHER KAWATERS:
Inside the package

they found various
pieces of men's

clothing, and also two aerosol
containers with fake bottoms.

Bingo.

CHRISTOPHER KAWATERS:
Inside the containers

were about four grams of
cocaine and 38 $100 bills

and several strips
of test print that's

used in counterfeit
that reflects a Treasury

seal and serial numbers.

ROBERT STACK: A
four-gram cocaine

bust is not even a pistol
shot in the war on drugs.

This is bogus.

ROBERT STACK: But authorities
had stumbled upon what

would prove to be one of
the biggest counterfeit

operations on record.

Investigators quickly traced
the identity of the man

who had sent the package.

His name was John
Bryson Vogel, and he

was no stranger to the law.

Vogel had served
time for armed bank

robbery, captured only after
a violent high-speed chase.

Since his parole in
1991, he had operated

a small printing business just
outside Minneapolis, Minnesota.

Federal investigators put
Vogel's cocaine and counterfeit

bills back inside his package.

Then the parcel was taken
to Vogel's business,

special delivery, courtesy
of an undercover Secret

Service agent.

Moments after the delivery,
Vogel had unexpected visitors.

Are you John Vogel?

Yes.

Federal agents.

We have a search warrant
to search your premises.

Got the package.

Mr. Vogel, you're
under arrest.

CHRISTOPHER KAWATERS: Officials
found approximately $50,000

in counterfeit money.

Some of the counterfeit
looked like it

had just recently been printed.

It was drying, open, on various
workbenches in the shop.

Vogel's counterfeit
was described

as very good or excellent.

He used various colors
of ink on the bills,

as well as some of
the colored threads

that are put into the
bills for authenticity.

Officials also
searched a storage

locker Vogel had rented.

In that locker, they found
196,114 counterfeit $100 bills.

Holy Moses.

ROBERT STACK: John Vogel was
indeed a self-made millionaire.

The bogus C-notes added up to
an eye-popping $19,611,000,

the fourth-largest haul
in United States history.

Vogel had been printing
the bills since shortly

after his release from prison.

CHRISTOPHER KAWATERS:
Vogel had served time

for a 1986 armed bank robbery.

While he was incarcerated,
he was assigned

to the printing industry.

There it's believed he
learned the counterfeiting

trade from another inmate.

ROBERT STACK: Authorities
nabbed Vogel just in time.

Though he had pressed
millions in phony bills,

he had circulated less
than $50,000 worth.

Authorities learned that Vogel
had logged thousands of miles

crisscrossing America and
spending his phony $100 bills

one by one.

By the time he was
arrested, Vogel's handiwork

had surfaced in nearly half
the states in the country.

On January 17, 1995,
Vogel was released on

a personal recognisance bond.

He promptly disappeared and
has not been seen since.

[music playing]

ROBERT STACK: Next, the strange
case of Justin Burgwinkel.

Did he run away from the Army,
or did a secret operation

lead to his death?

[music playing]

ROBERT STACK: Justin Burgwinkel,
Specialist, United States Army.

He reported for duty
in the summer of 1990.

In the summer of 1993 he went
AWOL, absent without leave,

and inexplicably disappeared.

Three months later
Justin's car was

found gathering
dust in the parking

lot of a remote northern
California motel.

The discovery proved to be one
more indecipherable clue, one

more dead end that left
Justin's family anxiously

waiting and wondering.

Now I don't know if he
ran away from the Army.

I don't know if
he was kidnapped.

I don't know if he was murdered.

I do not have one clue
what happened to him.

Specialist Justin Burgwinkel
was respected by his superiors,

well-liked by his
fellow soldiers,

and by all accounts, simply not
the type to suddenly go AWOL.

However, on several
occasions, Justin himself

hinted at a secret life
of undercover operations.

At the time it
seemed as if he was

staging cloak-and-dagger
theatrics

to impress his friends.

But today, those
closest to Justin

believe the key to
his disappearance

may lie somewhere
in a shadowy world

of intrigue and deception.

When he enlisted,
Justin Burgwinkel

set his sights on
an elite combat

unit known as the Rangers.

He scored high on
Army tests and began

language training in Korean.

However, within
six months Justin

was yanked from the
prestigious program

after he was implicated
in a shoplifting incident.

--go down there when I was
back in language school, man.

ROBERT STACK: Ultimately,
Justin was transferred to Fort

Ord near Monterey, California.

There, the would-be
language specialist

found himself assigned
to kitchen duty,

serving up meals to
some 1,000 soldiers.

That's the next hot spot.

They're going to
have nuclear weapons.

He had wanted to go in and
be a Ranger, and of course part

of being a Ranger is going
through the language school.

When they took him out
of there and put him

in the cooks section, he
really had a hard time

dealing with that at first.

But then he kind of
refocused himself and said,

well, you know, if I
want to be a Ranger,

I'm going to have
to get back in there

and really soldier
to get back there.

ROBERT STACK: Like many
of his fellow soldiers,

Justin frequented area
nightclubs on the weekend.

In August of 1992,
he met Iolanda

Antunes, a computer
science student

at Santa Clara University.

Where do you want to go?

I know a good 24-hour
place down the street.

OK.

IOLANDA ANTUNES: There
was a rapport there.

And he asked me for my phone
number, and I gave it to him.

And then one weekend, he showed
up at my door, picked me up.

We went to San Francisco,
and that's when it started.

We spent a whole day in
San Francisco, and we knew.

I knew that he was a great guy.

ROBERT STACK: Iolanda
lived here, in Santa Clara,

south of San Francisco.

Fort Ord was 85 miles down
the coast, near Monterey.

Before long, Justin was visiting
Iolanda at every opportunity.

During the subsequent
months, she

began to see the first signs
of Justin's secretive life.

Citing urgent business, he
would interrupt his stay

to shuttle back and
forth between Iolanda's

apartment and Monterey.

All of a sudden, he
would just stop what he was

doing with me in the afternoon.

And he would just
say, I'm sorry,

but I have to go up to
Monterey and see some people.

But I'll be right back.

And I'll be just saying, just
like that, out of the blue?

And he said, just don't
ask me what it's about.

I'll just return.
- Bye.

See you at 4.

IOLANDA ANTUNES: And that
started kind of bothering me,

because we would have a good day
and all of sudden, he'll leave.

And then he started
getting more vague--

I can't tell you.

I really can't discuss
this with you right now.

It's not right for you to know.

And later on it
became more like,

it just won't be a good
thing for you to know.

It won't be-- you
know, just, I'm

doing something kind of secret
and I can't reveal it to you.

ROBERT STACK: In
February of 1983,

Justin was transferred
from Fort Ord

to Fort Lewis near
Tacoma, Washington.

It wasn't until May,
some 10 weeks later,

that Justin made the trip south
to spend a two-week furlough

with Iolanda.

She recalls the visit
as a jumble of baffling

incidents and odd behavior.

Justin always had
a briefcase with him.

But I didn't think much
of it, because a briefcase

is a briefcase.

Can't make much
about a briefcase--

except he would be very
secretive about it.

He would never open
it in front of me.

Can you stay turned around?

Don't you want me
to leave the room?

No, no, just please
stay turned around.

IOLANDA ANTUNES: There
was this one time.

And I kind of angled
myself just to turn

and look over my shoulder
to see what he was doing.

All he's doing
with that briefcase

is taking pieces of paper--

taking pieces of paper out and
shredding them with his hands,

just tearing them into
little tiny, tiny pieces.

I mean, into little
squares this small.

ROBERT STACK: Whatever
Justin was involved in

seemed to be veering
out of control.

Iolanda says that one day
she found Justin alone

in the living room, sobbing.

Justin?

Justin, what's wrong?

Nothing.

You OK?

No-- yeah, I'm fine.

ROBERT STACK: Justin never
clarified the incident.

And it was soon eclipsed by
a more mysterious episode.

[phone rings]

ROBERT STACK: It
happened on a night

when Justin was
out with friends.

Hello?

(ON PHONE): Is
Burgwinkel there?

Justin?

No, he's not.
Who's this?

(ON PHONE): Don't
worry about it.

Can you give him a message?

OK.

- (ON PHONE): The mission's off.
- What?

(ON PHONE): Just tell
him-- the mission's off.

The mission's off.

(ON PHONE): That's right.

Justin came back.

I woke up, because I heard him.

And he looked completely
pale, completely frightened.

Hi.

Hi, Justin.

Justin, you had a
phone call tonight.

Here?

Yeah.

Some guy called and said
that the mission's off?

What mission?

Damn it!

Damn it!

Justin!

What time did they call?

- I think it was around 9:30.
- Who was it?

What did they say
their name was?

They didn't give a name.

They just said, tell him
that the mission's off.

And they just hung up.

Damn it!

Damn it!

Justin, who are "they"?

Who are these people?

ROBERT STACK: Justin
refused to discuss the call

or explain the message.

Iolanda was still in the
dark a few days later

when Justin packed his bags
and headed back to Fort Lewis.

I'm going to go
down and see her.

Next weekend, I'm
going to drive down.

ROBERT STACK: During his
first week back at the base,

Justin called his
parents and sounded

perfectly normal and upbeat.

I'm doing good.

How about you guys?

ROBERT STACK: However, at around
the same time, for reasons that

remain obscure, Justin
purchased two handguns and more

than 100 rounds of ammunition.

Friday, July 4,
1993, 04:30 hours.

Private Justin Burgwinkel failed
to report for kitchen duty

at Fort Lewis.

The dining
facility should have

reported him as being absent
Friday when he didn't show up.

Because he was a good soldier--

he'd never been in
trouble before that--

they kind of tried
to protect him

and say, well, we'll find out
where he is and deal with it

ourselves instead
of turning him in.

Anybody seen Burgwinkel?

CHRISTOPHER KAWATERS:
Monday morning they

realized that they
couldn't protect

him any longer, because
it had been a long time.

And they suspected
that, you know,

something out of the
ordinary was going on.

Yeah, Captain Heinzelman?

Yeah, this is the duty
sergeant in the mess hall.

Got an AWOL, sir.
It looks like--

ROBERT STACK: For a man who
had apparently gone AWOL,

Justin was not making
much of an effort to hide.

In fact, he had
been at Iolanda's

since late Friday night.

Justin, what are
you doing here?

Well, I came to see you.

- What time is it?
- It's about 3:00.

Aren't you glad to see me?

It's 3:00 o'clock
in the morning?

I don't know how he
could get more time off.

But I thought, well, if he was
able to, that's really great.

And I did want to see him.

ROBERT STACK: Iolanda
soon learned that Justin

was not exactly on vacation.

She insisted that
he call his parents.

Don't worry, all right?

I'll figure it out.

No, I'm not AWOL.

I wouldn't do
anything like that.

Right, no-- I'm going
to call Heinzelman.

That's a mistake.

I'm going to figure that out.

I'm working.

Yes, I'm working.

And I said, well, what do
you mean, you're working?

And he just said, I
can't tell you any more.

He said, but I will
straighten it out.

I'll have to explain it
all later, and I will, OK?

I just can't.

I'm doing something very
important right now, all right?

You've got to believe me.

And I'll explain
it to you later.

I said to him, at least
call Captain Heinzelman.

You know, at least call him.

And he said that he would.

Justin did call into the unit.

He did indicate that he
was going to come back,

and that he had a couple
of more things to do.

Once he got them taken care of,
that he was going to come back

to the unit and report back in.

Don't go.

ROBERT STACK: But Justin
did not report in.

Instead, he remained at
Iolanda's and continued his

mysterious trips to Monterey.

What's going on?

Let me help you.

There's nothing you
can do to help me, OK?

Then let me go with you.

Don't make me
do this right now.

Justin, please.

No.

Look, I have to go, OK?

Justin?

What are you--

All right, all
right, all right.

What are you
getting yourself into?

You know the
movie "White Sands?"

Watch that movie, OK?

ROBERT STACK: In a
conversation with his parents,

Justin had made the
same cryptic reference

to the film "White Sands."

Released in 1992, the
movie plunges its viewers

and its briefcase-toting hero
into the duplicitous world of

international arms smuggling.

It's about gun-running,
the FBI, and the CIA.

And this one's against this one.

And you don't know
who the good guy is,

and you don't know
who the bad guy is.

You know, then I thought,
are you working for the CIA?

You know-- it was
all too confusing.

But that's the only clue,
if anything, that he's

ever given me about it.

See you later.

ROBERT STACK: Saturday, June 12.

Justin left Iolanda's
apartment at around 10:00 AM,

once again headed for Monterey.

But this time Justin
Burgwinkel would not come back.

The next couple of months, I
was on the phone with the Army,

my senators--

you know, anyone I could
think of to call to try to get

the Army to do something.

Well, I couldn't get
anybody to help me.

The police wouldn't go to
the girlfriend's house.

I mean, nobody
would do anything.

Nobody ever looked
for him, ever.

ROBERT STACK: The windswept
outskirts of Monterey

yielded one final clue
in this puzzling case.

Three months after
Justin vanished,

his car was found
in the parking lot

of an isolated beachfront motel.

The Burgwinkels flew in from
Massachusetts to investigate.

They learned that their
son's name did not

appear in the motel
register, although the car

had been in the parking lot
for nearly three months.

The manager assumed
it had been left

by a guest for later pickup.

Something in it.

ROBERT STACK: Justin's handguns
were nowhere to be found.

Wallet.

ROBERT STACK: But his briefcase
had been stashed in the trunk.

There's the keys.

ROBERT STACK:
Curiously, his car keys

were locked inside,
along with his wallet,

credit cards, and military ID.

His military ID is here.

You knew something
was drastically wrong.

And you knew,
like, more or less,

that he had placed
everything just the way

he wanted it found.

That's the way I look at it.

[inaudible]

ROBERT STACK: Tucked
in Justin's wallet

was a standard-issue
military dog tag.

Dog tag.

ROBERT STACK: When Iolanda
learned of that discovery,

she recalled a
chilling conversation.

We were driving down
one time in his car,

and Justin had his dog tags.

And he said, do you
know what they're for?

I kind of had an idea,
but I just said, no, no.

What are they for?

And he says, well,
when a soldier dies,

they put it in his teeth
so you can identify him.

I said, OK.

He says, well, if you ever see
these, you know, lying around,

you know, that means I'm dead.

ROBERT STACK: Is
Justin Burgwinkel dead,

swallowed up by a
murky secret life?

Or did he simply run away
and cover his disappearance

with an elaborate fantasy
plucked from a Hollywood movie?

I really don't think it's
possible that he ran away.

The three things he loved--
he loved his mother,

he loved his girlfriend
deeply, and he loved his car.

And that day, he just
threw everything away.

Everything was gone.

I just can't believe
anybody could do that

without any trace or anything.

Justin was not the type of
person that would go AWOL.

Very reliable, dependable.

You could always count on
him to get the job done.

So him going AWOL surprised
everybody that I knew.

It just-- it just
didn't happen with him.

I'd like to believe
he's still alive.

I don't like to think he's dead.

But if he was, I wish
I could find out.

And then I could at least
bury him and put it to rest,

because the not knowing--

that's about the worst
thing that I can imagine,

is not knowing what
happened to him.

ROBERT STACK: In
a moment, murder

invades a small town when
an unknown hitchhiker

turns violent.

[music playing]

ROBERT STACK: It was
around midnight, June 22,

1991, in Harrington, Delaware.

Cup of coffee, black.

ROBERT STACK: A
factory worker named

Charles Holden stopped
by a fast-food restaurant

at the end of his shift.

It was a typical
night for Charles

until he left the restaurant.

I went in and
got my hamburger.

And I was on my way across
the lot, and got in my truck,

started my truck.

And as I proceeded to
get ready to back up,

I noticed there was a man
right at my passenger window.

Hey, man, I wonder
if I could get a ride?

Uh, well, I don't know.

It's pretty late.

Hey, but I'm, like,
in a big-time bind, man.

My sister, she's had a baby.

She's up in Georgetown.

I got to get there.

I-- I-- I live very close by.

ROBERT STACK: In the
end, Charles relented.

Harrington was a small
town, mostly friendly.

All right.

ROBERT STACK: Charles assumed
he had nothing to worry about.

Three miles down
Highway 14, Charles

reached the intersection where
he normally turned to go home.

CHARLES HOLDEN: Yeah, I pulled
off to the side, and I said,

this is as far as
we go, right here.

I guess this is where
you have to get off.

Hey, man, I got to
get down the road.

I ain't getting
out of this truck.

I-- I can't go any further.

I told you I could just
go a few miles, you know.

Listen, I got a
problem, and I ain't

getting out of this truck.

Well, I can't help you.

I can't-- you're going to
have to leave, I'm sorry.

No, then I'm going to
have to take this truck!

Hey, hey!

ROBERT STACK: Without warning,
the stranger attacked.

Charles grabbed his keys
and jumped from the truck.

CHARLES HOLDEN: He come
after me with a-- a knife

or a screwdriver.

What you looking in there for?

Ain't nobody going to help you.

No, this has all
been taken care of.

I'm going to kill you.

I'm going to tell
you right here--

I want that truck!
- All right, all right.

I'll take you wherever
you want to go, man.

Just calm down, all right?
- I ain't playing with you.

I want that truck!

Come on, come on, we'll go.

I'll take you over there.

Come on.

ROBERT STACK: Charles
knew he had to act fast.

As he and the assailant
headed back to the truck,

Charles made his move.

Charles sped off in the
opposite direction of his house,

so the man could
not follow him home.

CHARLES HOLDEN: Went down
the road a little ways.

Turned around.

I didn't see him
nowhere in sight.

I went down the other
way and I turned around.

Didn't see him out
nowhere in sight.

So I ventured down
the road, and when

I come back to my driveway,
he was at my trailer.

ROBERT STACK: Somehow, by
some disturbing coincidence,

the stranger had found his
way to Charles's trailer.

Now Charles had an
additional concern--

his trailer was adjacent
to a small farmhouse where

his 70-year-old mother lived.

Charles rushed to a payphone
and called the police.

How are you doing?

I'm Trooper Williams with
the Delaware State Police.

Are you Mr. Holden?
- Yes, ma'am.

Mr. Holden just
explained to me

that he had been home,
by his residence,

and saw this black male there,
and that he needed somebody

to go back with him,
because this person

was hanging around his mom's
residence and his residence.

Once we got there, we
checked to see if the doors

were locked and everything.

And both the back and front
door of his trailer were locked.

Well, Mr. Holden, it looks
like your house is secure here.

All right.

Could you come take a
look at my mom's house?

TROOPER WILLIAMS: And we
walked across the grass,

because their property is
adjacent to each other.

We walked across the grass
and around to the back door

of the residence.

And that's when the two of us
discovered that the back window

to the back door was broken.

Mom?

CHARLES HOLDEN: I thought
something was wrong

when I first hollered,
because Mom, she

was the type of mother that--

she would be awake
until I got in at night.

Then she'd go to sleep.

Mom?

ROBERT STACK: In an
upstairs bedroom,

Charles Holden found the body
of his mother, Dorothy Donovon.

Dorothy had been
stabbed repeatedly

in the chest, arms, and face.

[police radio]

ROBERT STACK: The
police found nothing

missing from Dorothy's house and
ruled out robbery as a motive.

When investigators
heard Charles's story,

their first instinct
was that he had

concocted an elaborate alibi.

And again, I
just drove around.

I was scared.

OK, Charles, you're
going to need come down

and treat with us.

We're going to have to talk
about this a little further.

OK?

Come on.

GREGORY NOLT: Just
the mere coincidence

of what he said
happened-- it was

difficult for the
investigators to believe

that he picks this guy up,
takes him a couple of miles,

drops him off.

The next thing you know,
he's at his mom's house,

never having met this
lady or Charles before,

and killing this--
killing Dorothy Donovon.

It just was very
hard to believe.

And it wasn't until we were
able to go back and interview

the people at the
fast-food restaurant,

were we able to see that, yes,
this black male did exist.

I wonder if I could
ask you ladies to do

me like a really big favor?

I'm trying to get
up to Georgetown.

GREGORY NOLT: Also,
later that day, we

were able to obtain certain
physical evidence at the scene,

that being a bloody palm print.

And we also found two sources
of DNA inside the residence.

Neither of this
physical evidence

comes back to Charles Holden.

So therefore, because
of these things,

we were able to eliminate
Charles as a suspect.

CHARLES HOLDEN: It's--
the whole story seemed

like a big nightmare to me.

You know, it's like, you're
in some kind of a dream.

You don't think it
really-- really happened.

You think you could drive
over to my mother's house

and she'll be there, you know.

But I know that's not
going to be happening.

BRENDA ALEXANDER: She
meant the world to me.

She called me every
morning and every evening,

say good night to us.

Best friend I ever have had.

I miss that dearly.

If she'd been killed
in an automobile wreck,

or had a medical problem,
I could have accepted that.

And I don't think anybody has
a right to-- to kill someone

and to take their
life away like that.

[music playing]

ROBERT STACK: Join me next
Friday for another edition

of Unsolved Mysteries.