Does an Eyeball Fetish Make You a Sick Sadistic Serial Killer?

The face is the mirror of the mind and the eyes without speaking confess the secrets of the heart - St Jerome

Being Raised by His Adopted Mother - Delle

Charles Frederick Albright was born on August 10, 1933, in Amarillo, Texas. When he was three weeks old, Fred and Delle Albright adopted him. Fred was a Dallas grocer, and the family lived in the middle-class neighborhood of Oak Cliff. Reports say that as Charles got older, Delle would tell him that his birth mother was a 16-year old law student who had secretly married and gotten pregnant. When her father heard about the marriage and the baby, he became irate. He demanded she gets an annulment and gives the baby up if she didn't want him to cut her off from the family.

Delle coddled young Charles, but sometimes her parenting went to extremes. As a small child, she would occasionally dress him in girls' clothing and let him play with dolls. He changed his clothes multiple times a day to keep him clean and dirt-free. Her discipline style was even more bizarre. It's said to get him to avoid minimal contact with dog feces; she would take him to the local hospital and show him polio patients that were locked in iron lungs and tell him they were like that because they touched dog feces and contracted polio. Before he was 1-year old, he chewed on her measuring tape, so she locked him in a dark room to punish him. If he wouldn't nap, she'd tie him to the bed. When he wouldn't drink his milk, she'd spank him.

Later in life, Charles often said how much he appreciated how she had taught him manners. She taught him to always speak respectfully about people or 'say nothing at all.' She taught him to always be considerate to women, especially in regards to sex. Then she would lecture him about his father's 'greedy' sexual acts. Telling him in detail how whenever Fred saw her in the bedroom in just her bra and panties, he would try to grab her. She was going to make sure Charles never acted that way towards his female friends. As he got older and began dating, Delle insisted on accompanying him as a chaperone. Before the date, she would call the girl's parents to assure them her son wouldn't do anything perverse.

Charles said he didn't feel she was overprotective; she just wanted him to succeed. Every morning before he caught the bus before school, she had him practice his piano lessons for 30 minutes or longer. She taught him math, reading, and writing early, so he could advance two grades in elementary school.

At the age of 11, she introduced him to taxidermy and enrolled him in a mail-order program. He set to practice on some dead birds, and she was by his side guiding him. She showed him exactly how to use all the tools:

• How to cut the skull with the knife
• How to scoop out the brains with a bit of spoon
• How to cut the eyes away from the sockets with a scalpel
• How to pull out the eyes with forceps
• She skinned the first bird for him to show him how not to cut too deep

Charles would spend hours honing his craft, stuffing and mounting them. Making sure they looked as lifelike as possible. He would get each one ready for the final finishing touch - the eyes. He would often visit the local taxidermy shop and marvel at the boxes and boxes of fake eyes, dreaming about collecting them like other children would collect marbles. He just loved how they would glimmer in the light. But Delle would never let him buy any, saying they cost too much; there was a cheaper way. Then she would take him to her sewing kit and select something that would work instead. When they were complete, she would proudly display them in the china cabinet at the front of the house.

Everyone who came to the house could peer in at them. They could marvel at his works of art. Staring back at them were his beautiful, lifelike birds that were blind. The birds had no eyes, just dark; dull buttons are sewn tightly into their delicate faces. They wouldn't gleam like the eyes at the taxidermy shop.

Young Charles Goes Off to College Alone

Albright went to Arkansas State Teachers College in Conway, Arkansas, where it wasn’t long before he was one of the more popular students. He was involved in many school activities:

• French Club president
• Yearbook business manager
• Member of the school choir
• Halfback on the football team

His art instructor was fascinated by his appearance when Albright signed up for the class; the professor appointed him as the class model.

On top of his popularity, he was also an All-American frat boy and a world-class prankster. Once, on a dare, he broke into the physics professor’s office and stole a test that was known to be ‘the unstealable physics test.’ He went downtown, made copies, and replaced the original within 60 minutes while the professor was teaching next door and was none-the-wiser. It’s as if he could finally cut loose and was relieved to be away from home.

Back in Dallas, although he was considered to be intelligent as he graduated from high school when he was only 15-years old. He was also somewhat of a celebrity because, at age 14, his parents purchased a plot of land and gave it to him. He then sold it to buy more lots, and the newspapers called him the ‘World’s Youngest Real Estate Man.’ However, his reputation for causing mischief soiled his otherwise stellar reputation. It’s reported that he once accidentally (perhaps on purpose) set fire to his chemistry teacher’s dress. Unbeknownst to his mother (he forged documents that showed otherwise), he failed a few classes because studying for them was boring to him. In reality, it was all inconsequential things. As he would explain later, he did them all in an attempt to impress the older kids.

But there were other things as well. Things Albright doesn’t talk about much. Perhaps because if he doesn’t talk about it, it didn’t happen. For instance, once, he got caught breaking into a local church. Another time he was caught breaking into a store and stealing a watch. Since he won’t talk about it, nobody knows why he did these things. Some have speculated it was as an act of rebellion against her and her close watch over him. Well into his teens, she still took him to church every Sunday, made sure he was in bed by 8:00 pm every night, and she escorted every date, where, as he joked, ‘She drove with her eyes on the rear-view mirror.’

It was apparent he loved her very much, but little things about her sometimes troubled him. For instance, Charles hated her cooking; he didn’t believe her story about his biological mother. He began to get headaches due to her fussing over him so much. When she found out about the headaches, she made him get glasses, even though he had perfect vision. You know the little things were troubling.

Arkansas State Teachers College was Albright’s chance at a fresh start. While there, he began dating Bettye Hester, an English major, even making plans to marry her. He excelled in his science classes without really trying. He earned an ‘A’ in his human anatomy course. Word on campus was that he was going places. He had aspirations of going on to medical school and becoming a surgeon. But he never once stopped being the class clown, even pulling the most epic prank on one of his friends. (We give more information on this prank in the podcast.)

The story about this prank soon became well known around the school. Even in retrospect, not one fellow student found the stunt creepy. They still just referred to it as one of his classic pranks because nobody was as inventive as he was when it came to pranks.

It's the Dawn of the Age of the Con-Man

By age 36, Albright taught science at a high school in Crandall, a town just east of Dallas. The principal at the school was thrilled to have him teaching there. According to his college records, he had a Master's Degree in Biology from East Texas State University. He was in the process of working on another Master's Counseling & Guidance. The records also stated he was about to enter their Ph.D. program in biology.

His students found him completely fascinating. He was utterly brilliant in their mind. He would recite, in impeccably flawless Latin, the scientific name of every plant he came across. He would break apart a piece of rotten log and talk about every insect he saw inside. He even helped coach the football team. Add all that to the fact he drove a green Corvette and wore lizard-skin shoes, and the young female students were practically swooning over him.

With all of his abilities, who would have ever guessed this bright young teacher was a fraud. How were they supposed to know he forged all of the documents that touted his accomplishments. Every last bit of it was fake. He snuck into three separate offices at East Texas University. Once inside, he collected all the necessary forms, then copied them, adding his name, before forging signatures and putting them back in the files. He even had the forethought to steal the registrar's typewriter so all the typefaces would match the rest. The real kicker is, he almost got away with it. It just so happened one administrator at the university realized the name Charles Albright was always showing up on the list of graduates, but he had NEVER met him.

When Albright was confronted, he merely grinned before admitting to everything. He said he had to bend the rules a tad to get a teaching job. After he quit Arkansas State, Charles figured that he wouldn't get another chance to prove how smart he was. Wait…Did I say quit Arkansas State? Okay, I meant to say he got kicked out for getting caught with suitcases full of stolen property, including his coach's golf clubs. Since he had married his college sweetheart and they had their daughter, he didn't have time to start his college career from the beginning again.

According to an East Texas State administrator, since Albright seemed like a sincere repentant young man and the forgery was technically a victimless crime, they kept the scandal out of the press. Not to mention how embarrassing it would be for them. He pleaded guilty to the fraud, and he only received one year of probation. Nobody in his neighborhood even knew it happened. They just saw him as a happy-go-lucky guy who could do anything but didn't care about or want to settle into a 9–5 lifestyle.

Since he had money from his parents' estate and his wife was a high school English teacher, he was free to flit around from one project to another. He rarely held down a job for more than three months at any given time. His list of jobs around that time would include:

• Designer for an airplane manufacturer
• Illustrator for a patent company
• Well-regarded carpenter
• Collected wine bottles with aspirations to start his winery
• Made baseball bats with a lathe he purchased
• Collected old movie posters and got autographs from stars performing at the Venetian Room at the Fairmont Hotel
• On a whim, he even went to a Mexican border town and became a bullfighter. The posters read 'Senor Albright from Dallas'

He went to visit a friend one day who worked at a beauty salon. When he left the establishment, he swiftly went to beauty school. There, he received his beautician's license. After that, he went, and without any experience, convinced a salon to hire him as a stylist. There he began going by Mr. Charles, and he was known to spend, at minimum, 60 minutes on each woman to make her hair perfect.

An Emergence of Deeper Darker Secrets

In 1975 he vacated what he dubbed a ‘’loveless marriage’ to Bettye. Afterward, he quickly developed prominence as a regular lady’s man. The women he dated viewed him as a tremendous charming figure. They could count on him to shower them with gifts and over-the-top romantic gestures. Never making a sexual advance towards any woman until she made the first move...Or so he claimed.

In 1985 Albright met and fell in love with a beautiful yet timid widow named Dixie Austin on a trip to Arkansas. She would later say that sex with him was gentle and very satisfying. He never asked her to do anything that could be considered perverse. He never even talked dirty to her. The idea of him having an affair was ludicrous.

What most people didn’t know was that by 1985 he was leading a somewhat double life. He hid this second life quite skillfully from all who knew him. He had become quite versed as a regular in Dallas area prostitution districts. To some of the prostitutes, he was just a familiar trick. Yet to others, he was a real sugar daddy. One of his regular prostitutes, Susan Peterson, listed Albright as her co-signer on bond applications when she had to bail out of jail. She once even listed him as her best friend in the event she jumped bail.

He was friends with Mary Pratt even before she became a prostitute. He had a brief fling with one of her female friends, bringing them both to his place for parties. When she started turning tricks, he became one of her regular customers. She thought of him as a good trick that was always willing to pay a bit more than others.

He had a standing Friday afternoon ‘appointment’ with a married woman who would work the streets after her husband went to work and her children were in school. But by late 1987, she had to end things when he became more and more aggressive. The last time was when he asked her to beat him. As she said, ‘spank him like a bad child.’

It seemed his life started to spin out of control after his parents died. Since his mom wasn’t around to keep an eye on him, the repressed parts of himself were finally free. His mom died of cancer in 1981, but they weren’t as close in her final years. She was disappointed in the way his life turned out, and he found her to be irritating.

A Slipping of the Veil?

In the late summer and early autumn months of 1990, right before the killings began, nothing seemed all that different with Albright. It appeared he continued to be the epitome of domestic morality. However, the veil he used to disguise his true self slipped just a little. To those who knew him, or should I say the ‘him’ he wanted everyone to see, his actions seemed so out of character. Many who witnessed it still deny knowing about it. Wait, I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s go back to when things started to seem a bit odd.

On October 1, he took a job as a newspaper deliverer for the Dallas Times Herald in the middle of the night. His common-law wife, Dixie, wasn’t thrilled with it because she felt she slept better at night when he was around. Albright explained to her that it was so he could have a little spending money. He had already blown through his $96,000 inheritance in a matter of four short years. Besides, he would be gone and back (3:00- 6:15 am, give or take) in bed before she even realized he had left.

She reluctantly agreed because he needed the extra money to pay for his softball trips. At 57-years old, he was still somewhat physically fit; thus, he was considered one of the best players in the local slow-pitch softball league. He played on a day team and a night team. He was chosen as an outfielder to travel to Arizona on the local all-star team in the Senior World Series. All of his fellow teammates adored him because he still acted like a clown. Besides, who else would bring a cooler full of cold drinks for the whole team?

Before the incident that seemed so completely out of character, he never seemed to get upset. Well, at least not that anyone ever saw. He always seemed to go out of his way to be kind so people would admire him. If there were ever a disagreement between Albright and an opposing player, which happens occasionally, he would always concede the point, almost as if he were afraid. He preferred giving people gifts as opposed to arguing or fighting.

The question happened after a game when some players from his day team, the Richardson Greyhounds, were hanging around shooting the shit. At one point, a car drove by slowly that had two women in it. The men laughed about them, saying they must be hookers. When someone shouted, ‘Hey, Charlie, you’re single, why don’t you take after them whores?’ He replied in total seriousness, ‘Hell, I’d kill them if I could, as he scowled darkly. Trying to keep the conversation light because everyone was stunned, the man said, ‘We’ve got to have whores. It keeps men from chasing married women.’ Albright told them the whole subject was a touchy one with him since his mother was a prostitute. It’s the first time anyone had seen any angry reaction from him.

You see, he didn’t mean his adoptive mother Delle. He had been referring to his biological mother. Later, when others, including an FBI agent and the private investigator on his legal team, tried to corroborate the story, they couldn’t. You see, his biological father couldn’t be located, and apparently, his biological mother had been a nurse. Records show she had lived in Wichita Falls until she passed away. Granted, she may not have been the bright law student like Delle had told him, but it seems she was far from the hooker he claimed she was.

When the topic was brought up in court later, all of his relatives claimed that he was elated when he could finally locate his birth mother. He even went to Wichita Falls to visit with her several times, taking her gifts and introducing her to his dad Fred and his daughter. Would he have gone through that effort if she were a prostitute, as he claimed? But why was it he frequented known sex trade districts, going so far as to take care of some?

No matter the facts, in his reality, a connection between prostitution and motherhood had been established. With this, Albright may have been struggling with a bizarre and sickly perverse version of the Madonna-Whore Complex. In Albright’s case, he was unwittingly seeking revenge on mother figures who disappointed him by associating with prostitutes - the lowest form of a woman in his mind. Charles cared for them on one end of the spectrum as he gave them financial assistance and showered them with gifts. On the opposite end, he sought to punish them. It was as if Charles detested what the prostitutes had turned into. Or perhaps he despised himself for what he turned into while in their company.

All this means is if he decided that it was time for him to punish and ultimately kill, he put himself in the ideal position to accomplish just that. His paper delivery route provided him with the opportunity to prowl at night. The relationships he had developed with the local streetwalkers established their trust. He owned property near the red-light district that was still in his father’s name. All this offered him privacy to carry out his purpose. It was all lining up perfectly. Well, almost perfectly...But we’ll get into that here in a minute.

Disturbing Details About the First Murder

Victim number one was described as a 'large' woman, approximately 156 pounds. Her nearly naked (wearing only a T-shirt and bra, but exposing her breasts) body was discovered in an underdeveloped, lower-class neighborhood of South Dallas. When they found her, her eyes were closed. Her face and bosom were severely bruised, which made it obvious she had been beaten. She had also been shot in the head with a .44 caliber. The guy who found her was so shocked by her appearance he ran home and grabbed a sheet so he could cover her up before authorities go there.

When the police arrived, one of them recognized her as being Mary Pratt. A 33-year old, well-known hooker who operated out of the Star Motel. It wasn't strange that a 'whore of Oak Cliff' (as the local cops referred to them) would be beaten. They received those reports almost nightly. What was odd - is that one was killed, especially one as popular as Mary. She wasn't the type of prostitute that walked the streets flagging down her johns. She would stand on her corner wearing only jeans, tennis shoes, and a T-shirt that accentuated her ample breasts. At the end of the night, she'd have one of her regular johns drive her home.

The detective who caught this murder investigation was John Westphalen at the Dallas Police Department. He resembled a stereo-typical backwoods sheriff as opposed to the street-smarty urban officer he was. District attorneys often complained about his rough, aggressive interrogation techniques, but he was the department's most persistent investigator. When he saw the file, he knew that solving this case would be more about luck and not so much about old-fashioned detective work. Mary's killing was what detectives referred to as a 'dumped body' case, the hardest to solve. It was apparent she was found at a dumpsite and not at the scene of an actual murder. They had no witnesses at all to either the murder or the dump. There was no murder weapon. Most of all, there was only a minimal amount of forensic evidence and absolutely no fingerprints. Not to mention, there was no apparent motive. When he considered the type of people who frequented the Star Motel, any one of them could be the killer.

Along with his partner, Stan McNear, he went to the medical examiner's office to oversee the autopsy, which was routine. Once they arrived, Dr. Elizabeth Peacock began the investigation. She took notice of the track marks present on Mary's arms (she was a known drug addict), the tattoo on her chest of the Playboy Bunny, and the bullet hole in her head. She then opened up first one eye and then the other.

Both of her eyeballs, tissue and all, were missing. Each eye had been removed so meticulously, neither of her eyelids was damaged. The killer wasn't likely to be someone in the medical profession because this wasn't a procedure one would learn in Medical School. The person who did this knew how to slide the knife around the eye precisely so as not to harm the connected skin. Then they had to slice the six major muscles holding the eye in the socket. Finally, they had to sever the solid optical nerve, making it impossible to tell they were missing with the eyes closed. Whoever did this had practiced extensively on something or someone before.

Westphalen immediately contacted the unit of the FBI Violent Crimes Apprehension Program, which kept a computerized file on the most unconventional, vile mutilations, such as:

• Dismembered bodies
• Missing organs
• Punctured eyes caused by a fierce attack

The agent he spoke to told him there was absolutely no listing of a procedural cutting with that level of precision. Detectives who have been on the force for as long as Westphalen took great pride in remaining composed and appearing unaffected by anything they saw on their cases. However, he couldn't help himself - 'What kind of person would want her eyes?' he asked those in the room.

A Clue Presents Itself Yet is Ignored

The police kept the information about Mary's missing eyes out of the press, so her murder was relegated to a short two-paragraph article in the back of the local papers. When officers Matthews and Smith arrived at the station for their shift a few hours after Mary was discovered, they didn't know about the murder yet. They had just been assigned a newly created beat that covered Mary's hooking area just 2.5 months prior. The post was established to bring the neighborhood a police presence, a way for officers to become acquainted with the local and crackdown on petty crimes. It wasn't exactly a glamorous assignment; it was more of a public relations post.

Officer Matthews was a 28-year old who had been on the Dallas force since he was 21. He is the son of a New York State patrol officer and grew up hearing his father's stories. When he joined the force, he patrolled a high-crime and prostitution area, so the dismal location of his current beat didn't affect him one way or the other. Very little of what he saw patrolling the streets fazed him in the least.

Before 31-year old Officer Smith became a cop, she was a graduate of a fashion merchandising college, former supermarket cashier, and a single mother of a 6-year old child. After reading an article discussing the need for more female cops of color, she was inspired to become an officer. Before entering the academy in 1988, she'd never been in a fight, seen a dead person, or even fired a gun. The ridicule and harsh treatment she received from her academy instructors or being assigned a rough night shift beat were all meant to break her. Despite this, she never quit. She was determined to succeed.

While working their current beat, she realized she was adept at talking to the local hookers. She wanted to speak to them in the hopes of improving their lives. She even had what she referred to as a 'hook book,' an album containing the mugshots of hookers she encountered on the job.

That morning Matthews pulled the cruiser next to 26-year old Veronica Rodriguez, an unabashed prostitute known to try and flag down johns even when the police were out in force. When he stopped the car, Smith rolled down the window and noticed Veronica had an ugly gash on her forehead and a thin cut on her neck. When they asked her what happened, she said, 'Don't arrest me, I almost got killed!' She then told them a trick had picked her up the previous night. He drove her quite a distance south to a field and raped her. The white man then attempted to kill her, but she could escape and run to a nearby house. It just so happens she knew the man at home. Who, ironically, knew her attacker. The cops thought she was giving them one of her pity stories.

Two days later, they drove past the Star and noticed Veronica in the cab of a semi with a balding, middle-aged white man. Matthews removed her from the truck and escorted her to the squad car. Smith went to talk to the driver. She ran his license and noted his name was Axton Schindler of 1035 El Dorado. He came up clean except for some unpaid traffic violations. All of a sudden, Veronica shouted, 'Don't arrest him! That's the man that saved me from the killer! That's him!'

But the address on the license wasn't out of South Dallas; it was only five minutes from the Star Motel. The man said he had no clue what Veronica was talking about, claiming he'd been acquaintances with her for years and was giving her a ride to the Star. He didn't know about any alleged attacker or attempted murder. The officers decided she was telling one of her lies, took her to jail for solicitation, and him in for the unpaid fines. They didn't find out until months later they had been handed a clue, which they dismissed.

A Pattern is Discovered Along With Another Victim

The second victim was discovered on the same South Dallas road on which Mary was found. Like Mary, she was practically nude and a known prostitute. She was identified as 27- year old Susan Peterson. She had been shot in the head, chest, and abdomen, and her eyes were closed.

Her body was discovered at the other end of the road and under the Dallas County Sheriff’s jurisdiction. Detective Larry Oliver caught the case, and he was unaware of Mary’s murder. However, the same chain of events unfolded. He watched over the autopsy where the pathologist started with the routine external examination, then opened each eye, one at a time. He summoned Oliver over, who was stunned to discover both eyes had been expertly removed.

The pathologist told Oliver about Mary’s case from two months before. He met up with Westphalen within 24 hours. Everyone present avoided phrases like ‘serial killings’ to describe the murders and referred to the suspect as a ‘repeater.’ However, they all knew what they were hunting - A twisted intelligent murderer, dropping bodies on quiet streets, almost guaranteeing their discovery in the morning.

The detectives wanted to keep the story out of the press because they wanted to avoid putting the attention on the Star and potentially scaring the unidentified subject (unsub) off to hunt in different areas. Their supervisors felt the department had an obligation to warn the community of the potential danger, even if the community consisted of low-price hookers. They also hoped the publicity would generate leads because they had very little to work with up to that point.

Officers posted flyers warning the hookers to stay off the street around the motel while detectives met with the media. Even though they withheld the information regarding the eyes, rumors quickly spread to the reporters about the strange facial mutilations. One detective told a reporter that it was done in an almost surgical fashion. A media frenzy ensued, imaginations in the city went into high gear, and calls came in from all over the county.

Matthews and Smith were also stunned. They knew the victims from their beat. Victims they were supposed to protect. They knew Susan Peterson to be a fearless prostitute. She never hesitated to threaten other hookers for getting too close to her spot. If the killer could get to Susan, none of the others were safe. They speculated the unsub was familiar with the red-light district, alleys, and streets. Completely capable of snatching up a hooker and disappearing in seconds. He most likely was a regular, or Susan wouldn’t ever have let her guard down; she’d have cut a bitch with a razor.

When they arrived at the Star, the prostitutes came out in droves, each giving their list of suspects. They provided information on their kinkiest johns. The black prostitutes seemed unfazed. Stating they were probably safe because he was only targeting the white girls. They figured they’d start to get more business.

Some Things Are the Same Yet Some Are Different

Westphalen managed to fill four notebooks with case notes, and he re-examined the crime scenes. Undercover units patrolled the red-light district, running checks on license plates that drove by, hoping to discover any unusual records. Nothing came of any of their efforts. This killer was in absolute control, refusing to panic; he said three questions needed to be answered.

1. Why was this guy targeting prostitutes?
2. Why were both bodies dumped in the exact location?
3. Why were their eyes removed?

Detectives began throwing around their theories as they sat around the middle of the homicide office:

• Perhaps a prostitute had given him AIDS, and he wanted a type of revenge
• He believed the notion a killer's image remained in the eyes of their victim
• He thought the dead person's eyes followed him forever
• Perhaps he was fulfilling a sexual fantasy
• Maybe he was cooking them and eating them
• Perhaps he was some crazy doctor

The only facts they had were that he came out at night, was fit enough to move the victims in and out of a vehicle, possessed surgical-type skills, and most likely needed a well-lit room to carry out the procedure.

In the early hours of March 19, the unsub changed tactics. At another whore hangout, just a few miles from the Star, Shirley Williams, a black prostitute, walked out of the Avalon Motel. Another hooker witnessed her wearing jeans and a yellow raincoat and appeared to be relatively high as she ran down the street. Her body was discovered at 6:20 am on March 20, on a residential road less than a block from an elementary school. As the kids went to school, they saw a naked Shirley slumped against the curb. She had an unopened condom ner her body. All Westphalen could say was, 'Go check her eyes and tell me if they are there.' The medical examiner's field agent checked and told him they were gone. They had victim number three.

Shirley's autopsy indicated the eye removal was rushed. They found the broken tip of an X-Acto knife stuck in the flesh of her right eye. However, there were still no witnesses, murder weapons, or fingerprints. The worst part, he targeted a black woman and moved locations. There was nothing they could predict about his next victim, pickup location, or dumpsite. He was again one step ahead as the detective's fears about the publicity came true.

To Catch a Serial Killer

When word of Shirley’s murder spread, the Star Motel was practically vacant, some of the hookers told Matthews and Smith they were leaving Dallas. Some even said they were done hookin’. Patrolling the area, the officers saw Brenda White, a 17-year old experienced black prostitute. She usually worked alone, away from the others. They stopped to make sure she knew about the threat. She told them about mace a white guy who ‘jumped bad’ (attacked) her a few nights before.

She described how a white john in a dark station wagon pulled up, and she got in. He was somewhat husky with salt and pepper hair, cowboy boots, and jeans. When she suggested a motel, and he said no, she told him to drop her off immediately because she never went anywhere but a motel with a new trick. She told them that’s when his face changed. He became enraged, saying, ‘I hate whores! I’m going to kill all of you motherfucking whores!’ Before he could grab her, she maced him, threw open the door, and jumped out, breaking the heel off of her favorite leather pumps.

Matthews and Smith flipped through their ‘hook book’ and thought about the stories they heard from the other hookers. They kept coming back to Veronica’s story. Smith said they needed to run a check on Schindler the following day, as county records had more information than city records. They went to the sheriff’s office, where a deputy agreed to assist them. When they entered the address, the owner came back as Fred Albright. The deputy entered another code and discovered Fred owned property in South Dallas, where Mary and Susan were found. Entering another set of numbers, they found Fred was deceased. Matthews and Smith thought they hit a dead end, but the deputy said it might do with Charles Albright. He posed this question because of a tip he had received several weeks before. So, he entered yet another code, and Albright’s information came up. Born August 10, 1933, the address was the same one that Schindler had on his license.

They now knew Albright and Schindler were connected, and perhaps he was the ‘friend’ who attacked Veronica. They raced to the county identification division to run his record. They discovered thefts, burglaries, and forgeries, to name a few. When they saw his mugshot, he fit the description Brenda had given them the day before. Smith stated, ‘Honey, I think we’ve got our killer.’ After presenting their findings to Westphalen, he decided they were onto something. He put together a photo lineup and told them to show it to Brenda.

When Brenda saw the lineup, she didn’t hesitate to pick Albright’s photo. Then they showed the same lineup to Veronica, who started visibly trembling when she saw his photo. Frightened, she refused to identify any of them. When they told Westphalen she was afraid, he told them to bring her in. If he couldn’t get her to break, he wouldn’t have enough evidence to proceed. When she was in the interrogation room, he tried appealing to another side of her. Talking about the three victims, how they were brutally murdered, and how the only way he could get the killer off the streets was with her help. She calmly looked over the mugshots again, reached for Albright’s photo, turned it over, and signed her name on the back, identifying him as the subject.

March 22, at 2:30, am, a tactical officer team busted down the door of Albright’s house. The place seemed to be somewhat run down on the exterior. However, the inside was adorned with all the treasures he’d amassed throughout his diverse life. The police handcuffed him and led him outside. He never said a word the entire time. Once Dixie lumbered out of bed, she swung her skeptical look between Albright and the police. Not even remotely able to fathom that this man she loved could have done what they’re accusing him of doing. She could do absolutely nothing but scream.

A Suspect is Brought In & a Conviction is Handed Down

During his interrogation, Albright refused to confess to anything, including knowing and having a relationship with the first two victims. After a thorough search of his properties, including six examinations of his physical residence, they still didn't have much. Just a cluster of exciting items:

• Woodworking tools used by a carpenter
• A multitude of X-Acto knives
• A copy of Gray's Anatomy, which was considered 'the doctor's Bible.'
• A dozen true-crime books
• A hidden compartment where he stashed pistols and rifles, none of which was the murder weapon

With all of this, the only incriminating item would be the X-Acto blades. They didn't even find the eyeballs. However, that's not the worst of it.

They could not produce a witness who could place Albright with any of the victims the night of their murder. Dixie testified that on those particular nights, he never left early and came home on time from his paper route. Veronica even ended up testifying for the defense. She claimed he had never been with Albright, and she was coerced into identifying his photo in the lineup. Schindler maintained he never rescued her from Albright and that it was a Hispanic guy by the name of ‘Joe’ who brought her to his house.

Toby Shook, the prosecuting attorney, hoped to get the conviction based on the controversial hair evidence. If it worked, it would be the first for the history of the Dallas district attorney’s office. After Albright’s arrest, the lab reports stated the hairs found on the bodies of all three victims were similar to those collected from his head and pubic area. This was risky because, unlike fingerprints, it was impossible to tell how many other men with similar hair coloring might resemble his hair under a microscope. The lab kept running tests. They found hairs on the blankets confiscated from the back of Albright’s pickup were similar to those collected from Mary and Susan. The strands found in his vacuum matched those of Shirley.

However, that’s not all. Matthews and Smith had a prostitute named Tina who claimed Albright was one of her regular afternoon johns. She usually only saw him cruise during the day, but she saw him on the night Shirley disappeared. She took officers to a field where Albright used to take her for sex, and they found a yellow raincoat, like Shirley’s, and a blanket. Hairs found on both items matched Albright’s.

Albright’s attorney told the jury all the evidence presented was circumstantial at best. He maintained the natural killer was Schindler, who coincidentally skipped town one week before the trial. The detectives spent hours interrogating him. They tried to determine whether he was aware Albright was killing these women, at the least. Or whether he possibly helped him murder the victims. Nothing remotely tied him to the case, except maybe an empty box of .44 caliber bullets. Albright might have dropped it there himself.

When detectives showed photos of the two men to many of the area hookers, none recognized Schindler, but most recognized Albright. Nor could investigators find any hairs that matched Schindler. Not to mention that nobody who knew him thought he had the skills to remove an eye with such precision.

Albright never testified. He merely sat slumped in his chair. Shook claimed he was a former biology teacher, bullfighter, college ace, a wise man who couldn’t seem to hold down a job in his closing argument. He advised the jury not to underestimate him because the trial made Albright brighter. Should he be released, he wouldn’t make the same mistakes again - it would be harder to catch him.

On December 19, the jury returned a guilty verdict and sentenced him to life. Dixie collapsed to the floor, and Albright’s friends avoided reporters in the hallway as if they didn’t want to be blamed for his actions. His attorney, who honestly thought Albright would be acquitted, told the press, ‘It’s always a miscarriage of justice when an innocent man is convicted.'

Do you think Albright committed these crimes? If so, do you think he acted alone? Do you buy into the defense's Schindler theory? Let us know what your thoughts are when it comes to Charles Albright. If you like what you've read here, please leave us a tip so we know what kind of content to keep providing for you to read.