bloodrayne
08-23-2005, 10:56 AM
Deadly Daddy?
Bloomington, Illinois - David Hendricks sobbed at funeral services for his family in 1983. His wife, Susan, and kids were all found hacked to death in their beds.
It was dad's night to watch the kids, so on the evening of Nov. 7, 1983, David Hendricks, 29, bundled his brood into the car for a treat - dinner at the Chuck E. Cheese's Pizza Time Theater.
After scarfing down a large pie topped with mushrooms and olives, the three Hendricks children - Rebekah, 9, Grace, 7, and Benjamin, 5 - danced off to romp in the elaborate playground that was the eatery's main attraction.
They frolicked in the pool filled with bright colored plastic balls, climbed on ropes and played video games, blissfully unaware that they had just eaten their last supper.
Later that night, after his wife, Susan, 30, had arrived home at around 10:30 from a baby shower, Hendricks left on a business trip to Wisconsin. As the owner of a prosperous medical brace company, he was often on the road.
Hendricks started phoning his wife in mid-afternoon the next day, after several sales calls. There was no answer. He tried to catch her at her brother's house, where she had made plans to have dinner, but she never arrived. He called neighbors and other relatives. No one had seen or heard from his wife or children.
That's when Hendricks called the local sheriff. He explained he was on a sales trip and was unable to reach his family. He feared they had been in a car accident. When he learned that there had not been a single road mishap that night, Hendricks headed back to Bloomington.
Grim Discovery
Meanwhile, at the request of worried relatives, police had gone to the Hendricks' home, where they found Susan and the children - dead.
The victims were in their beds, hacked to death. A red-handled logging ax and butcher knife found in one of the rooms were thought to be the murder weapons.
There was no sign of forced entry and the crime scene was remarkably clean, considering the nature of the attacks, which had nearly decapitated one child. Aside from the bedrooms where the bodies were found on blood-soaked mattresses, there were few blood traces anywhere.
Police were still sniffing around the house for clues when David Hendricks arrived home from his aborted business trip.
He told them that his wife and children had been fine when he left near midnight on Nov. 7. That was the last time he spoke to any of them, he said.
Hendricks met with reporters the next day, sitting in the office of CASH Manufacturing Co., the back brace firm he had built from nothing.
"I'm very religious," he said. "We read the Bible every day together. I'm sure that the four members of my family that are gone are with the Lord Jesus in His glory."
When asked what he'd like to see happen to the killer, Hendricks replied, "I would like to see him get saved."
In the eyes of detectives, this all seemed too calm, too accepting for a man whose entire family had just been wiped out by an ax murderer, wrote Steve Vogel in his book on the case, "Reasonable Doubt."
Hendricks noted that police said the killer was probably a burglar, giving details he could not possibly have known unless he had been inside the house. But the crime scene had been sealed off, even to Hendricks.
Investigators started digging and found troubling contradictions in Hendricks' character. Friends and relatives described the Hendricks as the perfect family. High-school sweethearts, Susan and David had married at 18 and shared strong religious values. Both their families had been members of the Plymouth Brethren, a fundamentalist Christian sect that holds the bonds of marriage and family sacred.
To all appearances, David and Susan were pillars of their church and community. By his mid-20s, David had patented a back brace and was doing quite well financially in his orthopedics device company. He seemed a devoted father, a good provider, a fair boss and an upstanding member of the Brethren.
But in their digging, police learned that some people - specifically a string of young lovelies he had hired to model his medical devices - saw a darker side.
Some of the models told of fitting sessions in which Hendricks had asked them to strip naked. Two girls said he had made awkward advances, attempts at a hug or a kiss that were easily rebuffed.
Once investigators discovered that in the last few years Hendricks had made efforts to improve his image, shedding pounds and an unsightly mustache, they were certain they had their man. According to their theory, the trimmed down, spiffed up, well-to-do businessman had outgrown his mousy wife. But the Brethren viewed divorce as a sin punishable by excommunication, putting Hendricks between a rock -- his religious faith - and a hard place - his lust for sexy women.
But it wasn't until the completion of an analysis of the stomach contents of the three children that police had evidence enough for an arrest.
The tests showed that the pizza was only partially digested, with chunks of the mushroom and olive toppings still recognizable. This suggested that the children had died no later than 9:30 p.m., about the time their father had said he was tucking them into bed. Analysis of the stomach contents of their mother, who had snacked at the baby shower, also suggested she had died while her husband was still in the house.
The trial, which started on Oct. 9, 1984, hinged on scientific testimony. Prosecution experts insisted that no more than two hours could have elapsed between dinner and death. Defense experts said that theory was nonsense, since all kinds of factors can delay digestion. Hendricks' lawyers made much of the notion that exercise is one of those factors, pointing out that the children had engaged in a lively play session at Chuck E. Cheese's.
To show a motive, the prosecution marched out the bevy of models, who told of Hendricks' clumsy advances, and members of the Plymouth Brethren, who talked about the sect's harsh treatment of men who stray.
On the stand, Hendricks admitted that his behavior in the months leading up to the killing was not fitting with the ideals of his faith. "Essentially I am a normal man with the hormones flowing through my body. I am attracted to most women but I don't go around making advances," he told the court.
Guilty Verdict
After eight weeks, the jury took just 5-1/2 hours to find him guilty.
Under Illinois law, Hendricks had the option to choose between the judge and the jury to impose his sentence.
Hendricks chose the judge, who made a surprising decision. Instead of death, Judge Richard Baner gave Hendricks four consecutive life sentences, without hope of parole.
"I cannot in good conscience apply the sanction of death unless I have been convinced of his guilt beyond a reasonable doubt," Baner said. The judge said that he believed that Hendricks probably had murdered his family, but noted "mere belief is not enough."
Hendricks was carted off to the maximum security Menard Correctional Center in Chester, Ill.
While in prison he somehow managed to win the heart of another woman. Pat Miller, a twice divorced born again Christian who had started writing to Hendricks to offer spiritual support.
On Dec. 20, 1988, a day before the state Supreme Court upheld his conviction, she became the second Mrs. Hendricks and started praying and lobbying for his release.
Two years later, her prayers were answered. In a rare rehearing, the Illinois Supreme Court reversed its 1988 decision, ruling that testimony by the models was "irrelevant and highly prejudicial."
Hendricks was granted a new trial.
This time, after 22 days mostly devoted to forensic experts haggling about the digestibility of pizza, the jury deliberated 12 hours before finding Hendricks innocent.
Hendricks walked out of prison in March 1991. A month later, Bloomington police said that unless new leads popped up, the case was going into the inactive file, which is where it remains.
Bloomington, Illinois - David Hendricks sobbed at funeral services for his family in 1983. His wife, Susan, and kids were all found hacked to death in their beds.
It was dad's night to watch the kids, so on the evening of Nov. 7, 1983, David Hendricks, 29, bundled his brood into the car for a treat - dinner at the Chuck E. Cheese's Pizza Time Theater.
After scarfing down a large pie topped with mushrooms and olives, the three Hendricks children - Rebekah, 9, Grace, 7, and Benjamin, 5 - danced off to romp in the elaborate playground that was the eatery's main attraction.
They frolicked in the pool filled with bright colored plastic balls, climbed on ropes and played video games, blissfully unaware that they had just eaten their last supper.
Later that night, after his wife, Susan, 30, had arrived home at around 10:30 from a baby shower, Hendricks left on a business trip to Wisconsin. As the owner of a prosperous medical brace company, he was often on the road.
Hendricks started phoning his wife in mid-afternoon the next day, after several sales calls. There was no answer. He tried to catch her at her brother's house, where she had made plans to have dinner, but she never arrived. He called neighbors and other relatives. No one had seen or heard from his wife or children.
That's when Hendricks called the local sheriff. He explained he was on a sales trip and was unable to reach his family. He feared they had been in a car accident. When he learned that there had not been a single road mishap that night, Hendricks headed back to Bloomington.
Grim Discovery
Meanwhile, at the request of worried relatives, police had gone to the Hendricks' home, where they found Susan and the children - dead.
The victims were in their beds, hacked to death. A red-handled logging ax and butcher knife found in one of the rooms were thought to be the murder weapons.
There was no sign of forced entry and the crime scene was remarkably clean, considering the nature of the attacks, which had nearly decapitated one child. Aside from the bedrooms where the bodies were found on blood-soaked mattresses, there were few blood traces anywhere.
Police were still sniffing around the house for clues when David Hendricks arrived home from his aborted business trip.
He told them that his wife and children had been fine when he left near midnight on Nov. 7. That was the last time he spoke to any of them, he said.
Hendricks met with reporters the next day, sitting in the office of CASH Manufacturing Co., the back brace firm he had built from nothing.
"I'm very religious," he said. "We read the Bible every day together. I'm sure that the four members of my family that are gone are with the Lord Jesus in His glory."
When asked what he'd like to see happen to the killer, Hendricks replied, "I would like to see him get saved."
In the eyes of detectives, this all seemed too calm, too accepting for a man whose entire family had just been wiped out by an ax murderer, wrote Steve Vogel in his book on the case, "Reasonable Doubt."
Hendricks noted that police said the killer was probably a burglar, giving details he could not possibly have known unless he had been inside the house. But the crime scene had been sealed off, even to Hendricks.
Investigators started digging and found troubling contradictions in Hendricks' character. Friends and relatives described the Hendricks as the perfect family. High-school sweethearts, Susan and David had married at 18 and shared strong religious values. Both their families had been members of the Plymouth Brethren, a fundamentalist Christian sect that holds the bonds of marriage and family sacred.
To all appearances, David and Susan were pillars of their church and community. By his mid-20s, David had patented a back brace and was doing quite well financially in his orthopedics device company. He seemed a devoted father, a good provider, a fair boss and an upstanding member of the Brethren.
But in their digging, police learned that some people - specifically a string of young lovelies he had hired to model his medical devices - saw a darker side.
Some of the models told of fitting sessions in which Hendricks had asked them to strip naked. Two girls said he had made awkward advances, attempts at a hug or a kiss that were easily rebuffed.
Once investigators discovered that in the last few years Hendricks had made efforts to improve his image, shedding pounds and an unsightly mustache, they were certain they had their man. According to their theory, the trimmed down, spiffed up, well-to-do businessman had outgrown his mousy wife. But the Brethren viewed divorce as a sin punishable by excommunication, putting Hendricks between a rock -- his religious faith - and a hard place - his lust for sexy women.
But it wasn't until the completion of an analysis of the stomach contents of the three children that police had evidence enough for an arrest.
The tests showed that the pizza was only partially digested, with chunks of the mushroom and olive toppings still recognizable. This suggested that the children had died no later than 9:30 p.m., about the time their father had said he was tucking them into bed. Analysis of the stomach contents of their mother, who had snacked at the baby shower, also suggested she had died while her husband was still in the house.
The trial, which started on Oct. 9, 1984, hinged on scientific testimony. Prosecution experts insisted that no more than two hours could have elapsed between dinner and death. Defense experts said that theory was nonsense, since all kinds of factors can delay digestion. Hendricks' lawyers made much of the notion that exercise is one of those factors, pointing out that the children had engaged in a lively play session at Chuck E. Cheese's.
To show a motive, the prosecution marched out the bevy of models, who told of Hendricks' clumsy advances, and members of the Plymouth Brethren, who talked about the sect's harsh treatment of men who stray.
On the stand, Hendricks admitted that his behavior in the months leading up to the killing was not fitting with the ideals of his faith. "Essentially I am a normal man with the hormones flowing through my body. I am attracted to most women but I don't go around making advances," he told the court.
Guilty Verdict
After eight weeks, the jury took just 5-1/2 hours to find him guilty.
Under Illinois law, Hendricks had the option to choose between the judge and the jury to impose his sentence.
Hendricks chose the judge, who made a surprising decision. Instead of death, Judge Richard Baner gave Hendricks four consecutive life sentences, without hope of parole.
"I cannot in good conscience apply the sanction of death unless I have been convinced of his guilt beyond a reasonable doubt," Baner said. The judge said that he believed that Hendricks probably had murdered his family, but noted "mere belief is not enough."
Hendricks was carted off to the maximum security Menard Correctional Center in Chester, Ill.
While in prison he somehow managed to win the heart of another woman. Pat Miller, a twice divorced born again Christian who had started writing to Hendricks to offer spiritual support.
On Dec. 20, 1988, a day before the state Supreme Court upheld his conviction, she became the second Mrs. Hendricks and started praying and lobbying for his release.
Two years later, her prayers were answered. In a rare rehearing, the Illinois Supreme Court reversed its 1988 decision, ruling that testimony by the models was "irrelevant and highly prejudicial."
Hendricks was granted a new trial.
This time, after 22 days mostly devoted to forensic experts haggling about the digestibility of pizza, the jury deliberated 12 hours before finding Hendricks innocent.
Hendricks walked out of prison in March 1991. A month later, Bloomington police said that unless new leads popped up, the case was going into the inactive file, which is where it remains.