The Night Stalker

Chapter One:

This is the story behind one of

the greatest man-hunts in history

Maybe you read about it, or rather,

what they let you read about it...

...probably as some minor item,

buried somewhere in a back page.

However, what happened in that city,

between May 16th and May 28th of this year...

...was so incredible...

...that to this day, the facts have

been suppressed in a massive effort...

...to save certain political

careers from disaster...

...and law enforcement

officials from embarassment.

This will be the last time I will

ever discuss these events with anyone.

So when you have finished

this bizarre account...

...judge for yourself

it's believability.

And then try to tell yourself...

wherever you may be...

...it couldn't happen here.

Sunday, May 16th:

At approximately 2:30 am, Cheryl Hughes was standing at

the intersection of Casino, Center and Fremont streets...

...waiting for a girlfriend

to give her a lift home.

Cheryl Hughes was 23, 5 feet,

five and one half inches tall...

...118 pounds, blonde hair...

...light brown eyes...

...Swing-Shift change girl

at the Gold Dust Saloon.

Cheryl Hughes:
Tired... and hungry...

...but just mad enough to walk the 8 blocks to her

small frame house off the corner of 9th and Bridger.

Cheryl Hughes:
En route to her doom.

That's odd.

No evidence of dependent

lividity, either.

Peel back the chest flap, please...

This should do it.

That's incredible!

Begin the gross work on internal organs.

I'm going to phone the district attorney.

...and don't talk

about this... TO ANYONE.

I came into it two days later...

Called back 97 miles from the first

vacation I'd had in two and a half years...

...because the story is so big

that no one else can handle it.

Rumor has it that the day Anthony

Albert Vincenzo was born...

...his father left town.

The story may be

apochrophal... but I believe it.

The only point I wonder about...

Is why his mother didn't leave, too.

Good morning, slaves.

We are NOT amused.

Kolchak, you are on it.

- A two-day-old, third rate

murder? - YOU ARE ON IT!

- What about them?

- They have other assignments.

You're beautiful when you're angry.

OUT!

First stop:
County General to

see one of my most reliable spies.

...at least he used to be reliable.

Hello Carl.

Aww, I thought you were

disbarred for malpractice.

...and I thought we were

rid of you for two weeks.

Yeah. So did I...

Well, about this uh...

Cheryl Hughes thing...

Why does it say "Officially

Undetermined" under Cause of Death?

Why don't you ask the Coroner?

Aw thanks. C'mon. You're my spy here...

Haven't I kept quiet about all those illegal

operations you've been performing in closets?

C'mon, tell me true now, John. Was

there anything unusual about the autopsy?

No. All I know is she

lost a lot of blood.

Some spy.

I'm just a poor, hard-working doctor that

occasionally takes pity on an aging reporter.

- Doctor Obrien. Any messages for me?

- Felt like a Pulitzer Prize story to me...

Second stop:
The Gold Dust Saloon.

...and a chat with Gail Foster...

one of Cheryl Hughes' fellow workers,

...and a rather close friend of mine.

Poor Cheryl. I feel just

terrible about it, Carl.

Well if you don't want to talk

about it, you don't have to...

No. I want to help if I can.

You said that she never

had any boyfriends?

No. None that I'd ever heard of...

She dated... once in a while.

But never the same man twice.

- I don't think she liked men.

- Yeah?

Yeah. She even took karate lessons...

in case one got fresh with her.

You mean that she knew Karate?

Yeah. Brown belt.

Oh I see him. I've gotta go.

Bye bye.

In any town the size of Las Vegas, the murder

of one young woman hardly causes a ripple.

...but then the ripples started.

Thursday, May 20th, 7:02 am.

It's over there.

I didn't go down. I couldn't.

Okay, okay. Don

- take his statement.

What took you so long, Kolchak?

I got a flat tire.

Not a footprint in sight.

Is that physically possible?

If it happened, it's possible.

Well, it sure looks like it happened.

Now come on...

Bonnie Reynolds:
27, divorced,

...cocktail waitress at

the Harem Room Casino.

Look at her throat!

She must have lost

an awful lot of blood.

Cheryl Hughes lost a lot of blood, too.

You read that in the

newspapers, did you?

No. I didn't read

that in the newspapers.

This girl lost a lot of blood, Sheriff.

...but she didn't lose it here.

Anything?

We found a purse.

There's signs of a struggle up here.

...but nothing in between...

...only our footprints.

What'd he do? Throw her?

Who said Bonnie Reynolds was

thrown 22 feet into that culvert?

The Coroner? I haven't heard about it.

Who said this new killing is connected

with the Cheryl Hughes murder?

The Police? Not to me they haven't!

Who said that Cheryl Hughes

died of massive blood loss?

The Coroner again?

You know, he hasn't even

turned in his report yet.

And who, may I ask, said that a 'super-powerful

madman' is running loose in Las Vegas?

Are you hearing voices, Kolchak?

- I did not make up the facts in this story!

- Oh I know. You're bored...

...a big time reporter like you? Condemned

to the sticks with us journalistic rubes?

- I did not make up...

- Oh I know you'd like a big, fat byline...

...on a big, fat story so you can pay

your way back to a big fat city job!

- I DID NOT...

- Oh enough, Kolchak!

I expect you to report. Not

to come up with fairytales!

...and Kolchak...

Quit bugging the P.D. If something

turns up, they'll let us know.

Meanwhile, use your head and lay off.

Whatever they're up to, they don't want

any help from amateur bloodhounds like you.

Friday, May 21st, 8:06 am.

Apartment of Carol Hanichek:

Swing-shift cocktail waitress in

the Bird of Paradise Show Lounge.

She'd gotten home around 2:15 am...

...poured herself a glass of milk,

opened the back door of the kitchen,

...and died... like the others.

Suddenly, quietly. Without disturbing her

sleeping roommate... only a few feet away.

Something of a pattern

had started to form...

...and it was ugly.

It was then that people stopped talking.

Does that surprise you?

Look Carl:
You're not the only

one that likes to play detective.

The Police, the Sheriff's boys

...they all think they're pretty good.

...and they don't need you.

You know you really make me feel wanted.

We've had three murders in town, Bernie. We

have one tremendously strong guy-maybe more,

who goes around killing young girls...

...and they all lost a lot of blood!

Hey you weren't supposed

to know about that.

...I wasn't supposed

to know about that...

But I know it.

What about your people

down at the bureau?

No. This is nothing for the

Bureau to mess with at this stage.

Yeah? Well you could make some

unofficial inquiries for me?

Like?

Well like... you could check around

the country and check all the hospitals,

...and see if any of them had

corpses recently, like ours, you know?

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