![]() The two men was confident that they enjoyed complete privacy, there were no risk of prying eyes and since the house was located where it was no outsiders could hear anyone scream. But the girl remained unidentified for two days, and so, at the request of Sergeant Salerno, the Times ran this bulletin on the fourth page of the Metro section, and I quote. It took something special to titillate the media, an eviscerated actress or a child stuffed down a sewer. Murder was so common in Los Angeles: there was one committed every three or four hours in the county, not counting the prostitutes routinely overdosed by their pimps. Neither the press nor television paid much attention to Buono and Bianchi’s gruesome act, and on radio there was not a word of it. ![]() He stumbled, almost fell, got his foot loose, and they dropped the body parallel to the curb, heaving her slightly, as one would throwing someone into a swimming pool. Buono stepped first over the curb, and as Bianchi followed, his foot caught under the ice plant. Quietly and quickly they picked up the girl, Buono carrying her under the arms, Bianchi under the knees. To make sure she did not bleed on the carpet when she was strangled, Buono spread a piece of her coat on the floor. Not out of pity for the woman, but because blood would stain his sheets and carpets. Bianchi applied the bottle with such eagerness and animation that he made her bleed, much to Buono’s irritation. This Bianchi violently inserted into the young woman’s vagina, causing significant pain. Watching Bianchi trying to work up some enthusiasm for rape in the spare bedroom, Buono handed him a root-beer bottle. Buono was put off by her unshaven legs and derided her as quote/unquote “some kind of a health nut.” He decided to pass up the sex this time, not even bothering to flip a coin, growing sullen and resentful at this affront to his intentions. Naked, she tried to beg, pleading with both cousins for her to be let go. Buono told the boy the jacket looked good and that he intended to keep it. Buono’s friends lounged against the car, watching with glee in their eyes. When told to take off his jacket so that Buono could try it on, the boy hesitated, but when Buono, long thumbs in pockets, feet apart, pelvis forward, stepped closer, the boy slipped off the jacket and handed it over. The boy was much smaller than Buono and the idea of exerting power over a weaker person thrilled Buono. He got out of the car while his three buddies waited. Buono ordered the car to stop and told his buddies that he wanted that jacket. The boy was wearing a maroon satin jacket with the name “Aristocrats” spelled out across its back. One afternoon Buono and his pals cruised by as school was letting out and noticed a boy standing alone with his books, waiting for a ride. They dumped Yolanda Washington’s body beside the road, near a rockpile and the entrance to the graveyard, across the way from a Warner Brothers set depicting a peaceful New England village. Then Buono drove to a spot on Forest Lawn Drive, below the Oakwood Apartments he had once lived in. He thought it would make a nice present for his girlfriend. When she was limp, Bianchi surreptitiously removed a large turquoise ring from her left hand and slipped it into his pocket. ![]() Even though handcuffed, she managed to kick Buono in the head, so he held down her legs, draped over the back of the front seat, with his free hand until Bianchi had finished the job. He tried pulling back on her throat with his forearm first, then used a rag Buono handed him. He noticed no footprints or disturbances of any kind on the ground around her, and the body showed no signs of having been dragged. The rectal bleeding and the absence on the body of any obvious signs of a dissipated, druggy existence suggested to Grogan that she might have been tortured before, during, or after the killing, maybe all three. But there were only two puncture marks, none of the usual scars and needle tracks of the addict. And then, examining her more closely, Grogan noticed something that made him think at first that he was looking at the body of a drug addict: puncture marks on the inner arms.
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