Every Move You Make (53 page)

As one might guess, Gary Evans had a major impact on Horton’s life. There’s not a week that goes by where Horton doesn’t field some sort of question about Evans. Today he looks at it all as an anomaly; he couldn’t control Evans, he says, “only react to his behavior.”

When I discovered that Evans was perhaps involved in a second life that may have included transsexuals, I posed a question we shall leave to the imagination to Horton, who was quite shocked—to say the least—by my findings.

“He fooled me all those years,” Horton said, shaking his head. “I should have known!” Horton seemed disappointed in himself that he had allowed Evans—in death—to one-up him one last time. “I believe I made the most out of every bad situation in every instance where it pertained to Gary. It was
always
a bad situation with him: burglaries, arson, guns, stolen property, murder. People have (and will) criticize me for the relationship Gary and I had. I will only say that those people are small-minded; they don’t understand the facts. Police have to deal with the worst society has to offer—and dealing with Gary was part of that.”

Throughout the many interviews, hundreds of e-mails and scores of phone calls with Horton, I got a sense that he would, occasionally, go out of his way to prove to me how compassionate he was to victims and their families. You see, there are some people who truly misunderstand Horton and the extent of his job, the people he deals with and the horrors he has seen human beings perpetrate against one another. Anyone who is not in his shoes cannot possibly comprehend the atrocities and violence and abuse he and his former Bureau colleagues dealt with every day. So it is easy for people to sit back, read newspaper accounts of Horton’s relationship with Evans, hear sound bites on radio, see clips on television and then judge him.

At best, the disparaging comments regarding Horton’s integrity I heard from a few people as I conducted interviews were immature and slanderous; at worst, they undermine the character and integrity of a cop who, at least in my opinion, went above and beyond the call of duty whenever the circumstances warranted it. If you re-read the first section of the book with this dynamic in mind, you will see how Horton taught himself to think outside the box in order to make sure he put those he believed to be an immediate danger to society in jail, where they belonged. He empathized with the criminals he tracked in order to understand them better. If we go back and look at history, we will find that some of our greatest generals did the same thing during the bloodiest of wars.

The USMS would not comment on whether or not procedures were changed as a result of Gary Evans’s escape. Yet, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that since Evans’s escape, policies have been changed regarding the way the USMS transports its prisoners—mainly, the vehicles they now use.

Off the record, I was told by a source close to the USMS that because of Gary Evans the USMS now chooses to use those white trucks we see on our roads; trucks that, in fact, entomb prisoners in cages during transport.

Regarding the USMS, Horton would only say this: “Gary Evans was going to do whatever he was going to do no matter who was transporting him. The individuals involved did everything and more as far as ‘official procedure’ was concerned, knowing full well about Gary and how dangerous he was. They [the marshals] were as white as ghosts when I saw them on the riverbank that day. I’m sure they changed their procedure, i.e., windowless vehicles or having a marshal in the seat with the prisoner. But I just don’t know for sure if it was because of Gary Evans.”

As I was finishing this book, I came across a few letters written by the Son of Sam to Gary Evans that I had not seen before. Mostly, the writing was that same dark, sarcastic nature I outlined in the book. Yet, in a few of the letters that the Son of Sam had written to Evans, he talked about the novel
Red Dragon
by Thomas Harris. Apparently, Evans loved the book, had ranted and raved about it, and was trying to get the Son of Sam to read it. The Son of Sam ultimately wrote off Evans’s persistence and told him he had no interest in “those types of books.”

I had always viewed the obvious parallels between
Red Dragon
and
The Silence of the Lambs
, Harris’s follow-up to
Dragon
, and Gary Evans’s story as, at best, coincidental. Murder is murder. I’ve learned that killers will do the same things without even trying. Crime fiction is often based on real events. We all know that. Sure, there are certain elements of Evans’s story that one could easily argue he had pulled directly from the pages of Harris’s books. But is there a definitive connection?

Evans, it seemed to me, wasn’t necessarily using the books as a script for life, but instead had perhaps subconsciously incorporated some of the same situations from the books into his life without trying to.

After re-reading those letters between the Son of Sam and Evans, I decided to go back and re-read both books before I handed the manuscript of
Every Move You Make
into my editor. I wanted to be certain I wasn’t missing something obvious. It had been years since I had read both books; the images and characters I had in my mind were from film—hardly a way to make any comparison.

I found several comparisons. Not exact, mind you. But strangely similar. I encourage readers to e-mail me or write to me and tell me what you think regarding the comparisons between Gary Evans and Hannibal Lecter. I can be reached by e-mail at
[email protected],
or by snail-mail at P.O. Box 3215, Vernon, CT 06066.

Amazing to me was that what started out as a journey to find a story that had certain elements I look for when choosing a true-crime story for a book then turned into a saga the best fiction writers of today couldn’t have dreamed up. Gary Charles Evans is probably the most interesting criminal I have ever had the opportunity to research and write about; he is the epitome of the criminal mastermind. There is a layer of his character no one will ever uncover; but I believe, in my fourteen months of full-time research and writing, interviewing dozens of people and spending, literally, hundreds of hours talking to Jim Horton, along with scouring thousands of pages of public records associated with the case, I’ve gotten to the core of who Gary Evans was as both a person and criminal.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

This book would not have been possible if Jim Horton hadn’t trusted me with all the information he had been harboring in his soul for years, waiting for the right writer to come along. I want to extend my gratitude and appreciation to Jim and all he has done to make this book what it is. The few people who truly know Jim Horton—of whom I can be added to that short list—understand that the humility he exudes is one of the most distinguishing and profound characteristics that sets him apart. He is extremely protective over his memories of Evans and the thirteen years he spent involved in his life. I want to thank Horton for allowing me into his world, and also Mary Pat, Alison and Jim for always being courteous and answering my questions. Horton’s career—of which only a small fraction was covered in this book—spans more than two decades and is heaving with bravery, honor, respect, dignity and, most important, integrity. Jim has made hundreds of arrests, all of them important.

The psychotherapy checklists of Dr. H. Cleckley and Dr. R. Hare were very helpful to me as I studied Gary Evans. I quoted from those checklists in a few places throughout the book.

I acquired a new literary agent shortly before beginning this book. Peter Miller (PMA Literary & Film Management, Inc.) has been a blessing to me at this point in my career. Like Peter, his entire staff has been kind, gracious and always available to take my calls. I thank all of you for that.

There is no book I can write without thanking…William Acosta, J.G., A.R., R.K.

Gregg Olsen, a brilliant author who has become an inspiration and mentor, thank you for your friendship.

Johnny Crime and editor-in-chief Michaela Hamilton at Kensington have been superb people to work with. I am lucky to have such talented people in my corner. I also owe a considerable amount of gratitude and thanks to copyeditor Stephanie Finnegan, who was really helpful, not to mention instrumental, in shaping the book and making the final product what it is. Copyeditors are hard-working people; their work is often overlooked.

To those of you whose names I changed in the book at your request: thank you for sharing your stories, letters, documents and other helpful memories and materials.

The late great author Jack Olsen once said that a crime book without a few name changes is a crime story not worth telling, simply because the entire story is not being told. In my opinion, this book proves Jack’s theory.

Bill Murphy and Jan Murphy: Thank you for allowing me into your home and sharing with me your anecdotes and memories. That visit changed this book. Also, Tina Spata, Tom Wessels, Kate Murphy.

I need to acknowledge all the law enforcement officers involved in the life and crimes of Gary Evans. Although a lot of you weren’t mentioned by name in the book, it is important to note that your work was instrumental in the entire scope of the Gary Evans saga. In no particular order: Ron Campano, Kevin Chevrier, Jim O’Connor, John Camp, John Couch, Mary DeSantis, Steve Ercole, John Mays, Dennis Moessner, John Carey, John Egan, Jeff Ullman, Drew McDonald, Eric Cullum, George McNally, Leo Blanchard, Walt Goodell, Donte Annicelli, John-Paul Sinclair, Marty Hatch, Patrick Devenger, Darren Annis—and, of course, Thor, the K-9 who ultimately caught Gary Evans.

Doug Wingate: thank you, sir.

Robbie Evans was a treasure trove of information. The letters, photographs, cards and e-mails partly made this book what it is. Thank you, Robbie, for helping me.

Jo Rehm: You are the true hero in this story. Let go and allow yourself the space to accept the fact that you were never responsible for anything Gary Evans did throughout his life. Your help in this project was commendable. Without it, the book would have suffered greatly.

My children and my wife of many years: How can I write a book without thanking you for listening to my stories, allowing me the space to fill the house with horrific tales of Gary Evans’s life, and supporting me 100 percent. I love you all. You know that.

I know I forgot someone, perhaps several. If that is the case, I apologize.

Gary Evans took this photo of Timothy Rysedorph, 39, who went missing on October 3, 1997.
(Courtesy of Robbie Evans, “Little Big Sister”)

Gary C. Evans is shown leaving a self-storage unit parking lot in Colonie, New York after cutting up the body of his final victim with a chainsaw and placing it in garbage bags.
(Photo courtesy of the New York State Police, Troop G, Identification Bureau)

May 1998: Evans lying in a freshly dug grave after fleeing New York and leading Investigator Jim Horton on a multi-state manhunt.
(Courtesy of Robbie Evans, “Little Big Sister”)