Who Killed Bob Crane?: The Final Close-Up

PREFACE

For nearly 40 years, the bludgeoning murder of Hogan’s Heroes star Bob Crane has remained a tantalizing mystery. It consistently ranks as one of the top unsolved celebrity murders in history. For decades, wild theories and speculation have swirled over who killed Crane in Scottsdale, Arizona in the summer of 1978. Was it his close friend John Carpenter, who was eventually put on trial in 1994 and acquitted? Or was it someone else? The mob? A jealous husband, boyfriend, or lover? The mystery has spawned hundreds of articles, books, and movies over the past four decades.

This is the story of how I looked to science to try to solve a baffling cold case. In what may be a journalistic first, I was granted unprecedented approval from the Maricopa County Attorney’s Office to retest the original blood evidence in the Crane case. Could modern DNA science answer the critical question: Who Killed Bob Crane?

Some may wonder why a celebrity murder—one that’s nearly 40 years old, and still unsolved—is worthy of this effort? The answer is simple. People deserve to know the truth; they want to see justice served, even if it takes years. The families, who’ve suffered so greatly, deserve to know the facts. Investigators, prosecutors, and police who spent years trying to solve this case deserve the same. And the public, for whom Bob Crane’s murder has been an enduring curiosity, wants answers.

Human beings, curious by nature, tend to hate loose ends and unanswered questions. When a crime is committed, we want the person or persons responsible held accountable. And in the eyes of the law, the most serious crime is the taking of another human life.

As a journalist for 33 years, I have always held sacred the search for the truth—wherever it may lead. It’s what guided me on this journey.

INTRODUCTION

Bob Crane became known to millions of Americans in 1965, when he landed the starring role in CBS television’s Hogan’s Heroes. The devilishly handsome star was the show’s central character and the unlikely comedy, set in a German prisoner of war camp during World War II, finished in the top 10 during its first year on the air. Crane played the wisecracking Colonel Robert Hogan. The show was built around Crane’s quick wit, charm, and penchant for mischief, as Col. Hogan and his Allied prisoners ran special operations right under the noses of bumbling German officers. They would come and go as they pleased through a trapdoor in Barracke 2 into a labyrinth of underground tunnels. They could have easily escaped at any time, but chose to remain in the camp to gather intelligence for the Allies.

Crane’s work was brilliant. He was twice nominated for the Emmy for Best Actor and was recognized as a skilled actor and comedian, blessed with superb timing. He was one of America’s most recognizable stars and turned Colonel Hogan into a cultural icon. Hogan’s Heroes lasted for six seasons—longer than World War II. When it went off the air in 1971, Crane continued to land co-starring roles on TV and in film. In 1973, he was cast in the lead role in Disney’s Superdad. But theater work increasingly became his mainstay as he criss-crossed the country performing in several small productions.

Crane was raised in middle-class, southern Connecticut. He learned the drums as a kid and wanted to be a professional musician. He was so gifted, he was selected to drum for the Connecticut Symphony Orchestra at age 14. He graduated from Stamford High School in 1948. He loved the big band sound and Buddy Rich and Gene Krupa were his idols. In 1949, Crane married his high school sweetheart, Ann Terzian. The couple lived a seemingly typical suburban life and had three children together. From the outside, things appeared quite perfect. But Crane was struggling with a dark secret: a sexual addiction that would later consume him. As his celebrity grew, so did his access to women. He frequently strayed from his marriage, dating back to the early 1950s, and it eventually led to his divorce in 1970.

Crane honed his comedic skills for 15 years on radio as a morning show host, first in Hornell, New York, then in Connecticut, and later in Los Angeles on the top-rated morning show at KNX. Crane earned the nickname The King of the Los Angeles Airwaves with a thoroughly entertaining, madcap show, that included his live drumming, voice impersonations, and interviews with the biggest stars of the day—Marilyn Monroe, Jerry Lewis, Jack Lemmon and even Ronald Reagan. His success caught the attention of television executives at CBS. During the mid-1960s and early ‘70s, and for decades to follow in endless re-runs, Hogan’s Heroes made Bob Crane one of the most recognizable faces on television.

It’s also where his co-star on the show, Richard Dawson (host of Family Feud), first introduced Crane to John Carpenter. Carpenter was the National Service Manager for Sony, and later, for AKAI Video Equipment based in Compton, California. Carpenter’s knowledge and access to this new technology fascinated Crane. For years, Crane, an amateur photographer, enjoyed taking still pictures of his sexual escapades with various women. The prospect of documenting his conquests on video became an obsession. Carpenter’s knowledge and access to the latest video equipment made this all possible. The two struck up a fast friendship. With Crane’s celebrity serving as a magnet, the two would pick up women, often while Crane was out on the road performing in dinner theaters across the country, and videotape their sexual encounters. In nearly every instance, the women knew they were being video-taped and eagerly agreed to it, or just didn’t care.

This unseemly pairing of Crane and Carpenter as friends and pickup artists began to unravel in the summer of 1978, coming to a head in Scottsdale just days before Crane’s murder. Carpenter had rendezvoused with Crane in Scottsdale. As was their typical pattern, the two met up, and gallivanted around town trying to pick up woman. But this time was different. Carpenter did not stay with Crane in his rented apartment. Carpenter booked a room for himself in a nearby hotel.

By this time, Crane had become something of expert himself in the wonders of home video. He no longer needed Carpenter’s help to secure equipment that wasn’t readily available to the general public. He needed no help taping his sex scenes. He could now do it all himself.

Carpenter, it appeared, was becoming a bother, a hanger-on and there’s evidence Crane was growing tired of him. He even told his son Bobby, days before the fateful trip to Scottsdale, John is becoming a pain in the ass, to the point of being obnoxious. I need to make a change.

On the day John Carpenter left town, June 29, 1978, Bob Crane was discovered bludgeoned to death in his Scottsdale apartment. He had been performing a month-long run of the play Beginner’s Luck at the Windmill Dinner Theater in Scottsdale. Almost immediately, police focused on John Carpenter as the prime suspect. They believed Crane was in the process of severing his relationship with Carpenter in the days leading up to his death, enraging Carpenter, and leading him to murder his friend.

The strongest evidence pointing to Carpenter’s guilt was blood stains found in his rental car—blood evidence that matched Bob Crane’s rare blood type (B, found in only 9% of the population). Police theorized the blood was deposited from the killer and the murder weapon, later believed to be a camera tripod missing from Crane’s apartment. The murder weapon was never found.

In 1978, DNA testing was not sophisticated enough to absolutely match the blood found in Carpenter’s rental car to Bob Crane. The county prosecutor at the time, Charles Hyder, felt there was not enough hard physical evidence to prosecute John Carpenter.

So the murder of Bob Crane descended into cold-case status, languishing for 12 years until 1990, when a newly-elected prosecutor named Rick Romley decided to reopen the investigation. That investigation led to John Carpenter being charged with the murder of Bob Crane.

Romley felt the case wasn’t getting any stronger with time and believed a jury deserved to hear the evidence against Carpenter. Keep in mind that, in the early 1990s, DNA testing was in its infancy. Tests performed at the time were inconclusive: the blood found in Carpenter’s rental car could not be proven as belonging to Bob Crane. While the blood type matched, it was impossible to say with absolute certainty that the blood came from Bob Crane. Absent that definitive proof, on October 31, 1994, a jury acquitted John Carpenter in Bob Crane’s murder. In 2016, several jurors, including the foreman, told me that if DNA had proved the blood in Carpenter’s rental car came from Bob Crane, the jury would have, without question, convicted John Carpenter of murder.

The one and only strong suspect in Bob Crane’s murder had been put on trial and was found not guilty. Now, Crane’s family and the rest of world would have to accept that the case might never be solved. It left two nauseating possibilities: that the killer, John Carpenter, got away with murder or that the real killer was still at large.

In June of 1978, I was 18 years old and about to enroll as a freshman at Arizona State University in Tempe, Arizona to study journalism. Like the rest of America, I was stunned when I turned on the television and learned the news of Bob Crane’s murder, a mere seven miles up the road from my future dorm.

I went on to become a journalist. My career has spanned more than 30 years in Arizona. First in radio, later in television as an anchor and reporter in Tucson, and most recently (and for the last 23 years) in Phoenix with Fox 10 Television.

In March of 2015, an interview with Bob Crane’s son, Robert Jr., about his new book on his father, spawned an idea. What if we retested the original blood evidence in the case? Did it still exist? Could we find it? Was it preserved and still viable for testing? It was a long shot at best. But I hypothesized that advancements in DNA testing in the 20 years since the trial might yield more definitive results. Perhaps a new round of testing would prove that the blood found in John Carpenter’s rental car nearly 40 years ago, did belong to Bob Crane—certain proof that Carpenter murdered him. Or would it reveal that the blood belonged to someone else, raising the possibility that police and prosecutors wasted years fixated on the wrong suspect?

As an 18-year-old kid in the summer of 1978, I could not have imagined that one day I would become entangled in this sordid, tragic story. But I did.

CHAPTER ONE

THE MURDER

The door to Bob Crane’s apartment was unlocked. As actress Victoria Berry slowly turned the handle, she was surprised. Bob always locked his door. For a man so reckless in his personal life, he could, at times, be cautious. It was a quarter past two in the afternoon, and getting hot—already 104 degrees outside. Berry was dressed for it: in high-cut, light blue running shorts, her blonde hair spilling over her shoulders and her breasts protruding from a skin-tight tee-shirt.

Bob had planned for her to come over that day to do a voiceover of a scene from the play they were performing in. Who knows what else he had in mind. After all, she reminded herself, they’d had sex twice before. Both were starring in the cast of Beginner’s Luck, a play that was in its final week at the Windmill Dinner Theater in Scottsdale, a 10-minute drive from the apartment Bob Crane had rented. For Crane, who had been a big TV star, this kind of work was beneath him. But it paid the bills and attracted plenty of women, both within and outside the show. Berry noticed that the morning paper was still on the sidewalk outside his front door. She picked it up and knocked several times on the door of 132-A at the Winfield Place Apartments with no answer. As she looked around, she saw Bob’s car parked in front of the apartment complex. He must be here, she thought. Maybe he’s swimming in the back…

Berry knocked again, slowly turned the doorknob, and gently pushed open the door. She called out Bob… Bob… Bob? No answer. She put the paper on the kitchen table and placed the bag she was carrying on the floor as she slowly walked through the apartment.

It was pitch dark. All the drapes inside were closed. As her eyes slowly adjusted to the darkened room, she could make out the video equipment—camera and cables scattered about the living room, as usual. Crane was obsessed with this new technology. Everywhere his acting jobs took him, his video equipment was in tow. Berry called out again: Bob… Bob? Again, no answer.

Victoria walked to the arcadia door that led to the pool in the center of the complex. He must be out there… she thought. She pulled back the curtains that covered the arcadia doors, but Bob was not at the pool. She turned back toward the inside of the apartment, and made a right turn toward Crane’s bedroom. The door was slightly ajar. She pushed it open.

Someone was lying in bed, but she couldn’t make out the form. At first, when she saw the dark streaks, she thought it was a woman with long hair lying on her right side. But as her eyes adjusted, she could see it. Blood! Blood was everywhere. All over the pillow, the bed sheets, and spatters of it on the wall above the bed. She let out a scream. Her mind raced Oh my God… what the hell is going on? she thought. As panic set in, she could feel her heart beating in her head, her breathing becoming a pant. At first she thought it might be a woman. One of Bob’s girlfriends who had killed herself? As she fixed her gaze on the lifeless form, she realized it was a man. But was it Bob… or his good friend John Carpenter? Carpenter often stayed with Bob when he was on the road. She didn’t know. The head was bloody and unrecognizable. Blood was pooling and had poured out the victim’s nose. And then she noticed an electrical cord, with the plug on one end, wrapped around the victim’s neck. She let out another scream, backed out of the bedroom and ran outside.

Her heart pounding in her chest, panting, and sobbing she saw Mary Lou Hawkins, a neighbor, walking by. Can you please help me? she asked, crying. There’s a man dead in the apartment. I’m afraid it’s Bob! Berry followed Mrs. Hawkins to her apartment. She grabbed the phone, and dialed the operator. Connect me to the Scottsdale Police Department, please! she shouted. A Scottsdale Police dispatcher came on the line and asked, What’s your emergency? Hawkins answered, There’s a man apparently dead in apartment 132-A Winfield Place Apartments.

Berry paced outside the apartment, in a daze, crying and shaking. Her mind racing with the possibilities. Is this really happening? she thought. Did Bob kill himself? Was it really Bob in that bed? Maybe it’s his friend, John? She still wasn’t certain exactly what she’d seen. But she knew that whoever was in that bed had met with a violent death.

At 2:22 in the afternoon, Scottsdale police officer Paula Kasieta was the first to arrive on the scene. When she went into the back bedroom of the apartment she saw the bloody, lifeless body on the bed. She observed the victim’s head was swollen and that there was a lot of blood on the left side of his face. She thought the wound looked like a gunshot to the neck or mouth because there was so much blood. Two Rural Metro firemen arrived at the same time. They put down their gear in the hallway and walked into the bedroom. They knew instantly that the victim—whoever it was—was dead and there was nothing they could do. They picked up their equipment and walked out.

Captain John Pratt with the Scottsdale Police Department arrived minutes later and took control of the scene. He began talking with a distraught Victoria Berry who still wasn’t sure if it was Bob Crane in that bed. Pratt was trying to find out all he could. Berry said she had worked with Crane in the dinner theatre show the night before and said he had been with a friend named John. She could not give a last name. She said she had talked with John on several occasions and knew him quite well, but did not know his last name. She said he was a good friend of Bob’s and that they palled around quite a bit together. She also said she saw the two of them leave the Windmill Theater together after the show the night before.

Two Kords Ambulance attendants arrived moments later. They walked back to the master bedroom and realized immediately that the victim was dead. As more and more police officers arrived, they all noted the same aspects of the scene: A white male, lying on his right side in bed in a semifetal sleeping position. His head rested partially on a blood-soaked pillow. His left hand tucked under his chin. His right arm stretched the length of his body. The bed sheet came up to about chest high. And around the victim’s neck, a black electrical cord tied with single right-handed twist. One end of the cord had the electrical plug on it and the other end appeared to have been cut from the rest of the cord. However this man was killed, it came suddenly, violently. And the victim had no time to react. There were no signs of a struggle or that the victim had tried—or even had a chance—to defend himself from his attacker.

Several more officers arrived, including Barry Vassall. He remembers, There was an officer outside and Captain Pratt was inside. I was told that we had a dead person inside and to go and knock on some doors and see if anyone saw or heard anything. Vassall says it was fairly quiet at the apartment complex at that point. Crime-scene tape wasn’t up yet because the media had not yet been notified.

Inside the apartment, officer Paula Kasieta was eyeballing the scene. Looking for clues. She noticed what appeared to be small spots of blood on the inside of the front door between the lock and the doorknob. Likely from the killer leaving the scene. It would have to be collected.

Officer Dennis Borkenhagen was driving in his patrol car when he remembers a call coming over the radio. A former detective with Scottsdale PD, Bork, as he was known, had rotated out of investigations and was back on the patrol division. Lieutenant Ron Dean was summoning him. He would need his help. Borkenhagen arrived at the crime scene within a few minutes. He remembers there being a lot of police cars on the scene. Lieutenant Dean knew this was big and he wanted Bork to assist him. In his police report, Borkenhagen described entering the ground floor apartment: The apartment was a two-bedroom unit with the kitchen toward the front on the right as you entered. To the front left was a bedroom. Immediately past the kitchen area was a dining area and living room on the right, and a master bedroom to the left in the rear of the apartment. There was an arcadia door leading out to a patio that looked out on the complex swimming pool. The draperies were closed across the arcadia door. In front of these draperies was an assortment of video taping equipment, including three videotape recorders/players, a video camera, and a TV set. Numerous video cassettes were also in view around this equipment. In the master bathroom, next to where the victim lay, Borkenhagen noted an array of photographic equipment. This equipment included developing trays and photographic chemicals and a device for making enlargements from negatives. There were several strips of 35mm film in the bathroom. A photo enlarging apparatus sat awkwardly on top of the toilet. The negatives were photos of naked women engaged in numerous sexual acts. Borkenhagen noticed the apartment was a mess, with junk all over the place and miscellaneous items strewn about. Bob Crane was living like a college kid, not like a man just weeks away from turning 50. Borkenhagen noted that although the rooms in the apartment did not appear to be orderly, they did not show any signs of a struggle having taken place in any of the rooms. And there was no sign of forced entry into the apartment. The front door, according to Berry, was unlocked. The arcadia door leading out to the patio and pool was locked. Whoever the killer was, Bob Crane either willingly let