Hello, campers. Grab your marshmallows and gather around the true crime campfire.

We're your camp counselors. I'm Katie and I'm Whitney.

And we're here to tell you a true story that is way stranger than fiction.

We're roasting murderers and marshmallows around the

true crime campfire.

So, campers, last time we saw Bill Bradfield's supporters begin to peel off one by one

as they slowly realized they needed to protect their own butts.

First Vince, then Chris, then Sue broke Bill Spengoli-like hold over them and started getting chummy with the investigators.

Bill was getting more and more wild-eyed and paranoid and clinging to his few remaining supporters.

Meanwhile the FBI was poking around in Jay Smith's old life, his old house, and his old car,

and finding some very compelling forensic and circumstantial evidence.

More blue combs, like the one found under Susan's body, red fibers matching the ones in her hair, and a letter to his dying wife Steffi that looked suspiciously like a request to dispose of evidence.

And they'd finally found a couple of letters that cemented the

connection between Smith and Bill Bradfield something they had thus far been

unable to prove. The investigation was revving into high gear. The of the Guard.

So today we have to open on a bit of a bummer folks.

On October 1st, 1981, our curmudgeonly lead detective Joe Van Norte, who we love, right?

Yes, totally.

Who had been kind of slipping lately,

getting kind of scatterbrained and missing things that he ordinarily would never miss,

failed to qualify on his test at the

shooting range for the first time in his whole career. And he was of course

...