Serial Killer of the Month: Gerard John Schaefer
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Gerard John Schaefer in his own words: “Doing doubles [double murders) is far more difficult than doing singles, but on the other hand it also puts one in a position to have twice as much fun. There can be some lively discussions about which of the victims will get to be killed first. When you have a pair of lively teenaged bimbolinas bound hand and foot and ready for a session with the skinning knife, neither one of the little devils wants to be the one to go first. And they don’t mind telling you quickly why their best friend should be the one to die.
“My own preference was in the preliminaries, and the increasing terror generated by the woman’s awareness that she was in the hands of a homicidal maniac. I was entranced by the various ploys that the captive women would use in order to save their lives. Most of them would try something, and I made it a game to see how long it would be before the victim would request to be killed.
“This entertainment varied from one victim to another, and it might take the form of physical or psychological torture. If and when the lady decided to say she’d had enough, I was quite willing to put her out of her misery — if she asked nicely. This sort of experiment is perfect for a person of sadistic tendencies, since we sadists do not consider our victims to be genuinely human. Ted (Bundy) never thought of the women he killed as persons, but only as objects. I did the same and found it an excellent way to avoid any human feelings for them. I guess one would consider that a sociopathic quality, but what the hell, we all have our faults, and I am no different than anyone else in that respect.”
Gerard John Schaefer, a six-foot-two-inch-tall deputy sheriff in Martin County, Florida, drove along the beach in July of 1972 when he stopped to pick up two hitchhikers: 18-year-old Nancy Trotter and 17-year-old Paula Sue Wells. The pair met in Chicago and traveled down to Florida for some vacationing. Schaefer picked them up in his patrol car after he claimed they were breaking the hitchhiking laws. Instead of taking them to the local police department, he dropped them off at their house. Before he left, he offered to take them to the beach the next day when he would be operating undercover.
The next day he offered to take the two young women out to see a Spanish castle he had known about. They had no reason to distrust the twice-married twenty-six year-old officer. They unsuspectingly drove out on the Indian River side of Hutchinson’s Island, a narrow, 20-mile-long sandbar that stretches from Stuart northward to Fort Pierce. They weren’t clueless, though. The two became nervous when Schaefer steered his Datsun onto a narrow dirt road and followed the track far into the scrub. At last they pulled up to a woodshed which the young sheriff insisted was the old fort. The place was deserted except for the quiet buzz of mosquitos, and the large, low-growing palmetto trees. Trotter and Wells immediately want to leave.
Excited by the fear of the girls, Schaefer called them runaways and said he would have to arrest them and send them home that way. He ordered the pair to get out, he searched them, and then he handcuffed them. He pushed them back into the rear seat of the white sedan where he then started threatening to sell them into “white slavery.” He asked if their parents would pay a ransom for them if they were kidnapped. He suggested he would just bury them alive out in a forgotten place. Next he pulled the two women from the car and, with ropes and rags in his trunk, he gagged and bound them. Then he set them on the exposed roots of the banyan trees, and threw a noosed rope over a high limb. With both girls precariously balanced and ready to strangle if they fell off the root, Schaefer wandered into the woods, explaining that he was looking for a man to whom he could sell them.
Well, the two girls managed to escape the clutches of the evil but stupid Schaefer. They headed to the main highway, still handcuffed. Schaefer returned to the scene to find the two victims had escaped.
He raced to phone his Sheriff, Robert Crowder. “I’ve done something foolish,” he said. “You’re going to be angry with me.” It was only a few hours later that Schaefer was debarred from the force and was being tried for false imprisonment and aggravated assault. His trial was to be held August 14, though he was ultimately still free on bail.
September 27 1972, just a few months later Schaefer accompanied Georgia Jessup and Susan Place from Susan’s house. Schaefer said, “We’re going to the beach to play some music.” Neither girl came back – but Susan’s mother Lucille had written down Schaefer’s license plate number. After some days she had the license searched, but the number the police got was written down wrong. No license plate matched the number. Then the bodies of the two girls were found, scavenged by wild animals. The only means of verifying the identity was through dental records, which matched the two girls who had been reported missing.
This brought much attention to the case, and the license number was re-examined. The clerical error was found, and the correct license number brought up the name of an inmate who was already being jailed for the assault of two girls – Gerard Schaefer.
Schaefer’s case was open and shut. His personal belongings contained items from both victims from this report, and many other victims across Florida. He wrote an extensive diary of his deeds and his desires. He was convicted of the two murders in 1972, though suspected to be involved in nearly 30 more over his career. He was condemned to two life terms in Florida State Prison. On December 3, 1995, Gerard Schaefer was knifed to death in his cell. —St. Feltcher
Read more Serial Killer of the Month:
Serial Killer of the Month: Ivan Milat
Serial Killer of the Month: Larry Eyler
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