Speaker 1: This series includes sensitive and potentially distressing topics, including sexual
Speaker 1: assault and abuse involving children. Listener discretion is advised. On
Speaker 1: November twenty second, nineteen ninety five, a hunter named Peter
Speaker 1: Erickson walked the woods of Carmel, New York, fifty or
Speaker 1: so yards in from Fields Lane. He was out there
Speaker 1: that morning with a buddy of his named Bruce. It
Speaker 1: was the first day of a hunting season in Putnam County,
Speaker 1: and the two friends were setting up a tree stand
Speaker 1: that morning. That's the perch that hunters hinda waiting for
Speaker 1: a deer.
Speaker 2: My buddy was down below. He's free to heights, so
Speaker 2: he was handing me stuff and I was up in
Speaker 2: this tree and all of a sudden, I look out
Speaker 2: in the road, and there's like twenty cop cars pull up,
Speaker 2: you know, all at once, and then they start walking
Speaker 2: into the woods, and you're like, what is going on here?
Speaker 1: The Carminlson County seat of Putnam. It's still a pretty
Speaker 1: small town enough so that Peter knew some of the
Speaker 1: cops who swarmed the woods that morning.
Speaker 2: I recognized a few of them, one of them Pat
Speaker 2: His name was Pacistaldo.
Speaker 1: Pacstaldo, a detective for the Putnam County sheriff straight out
Speaker 1: of a drugstore novel. He slicked his hair back in
Speaker 1: a tight pompadour and wore a top coat even when
Speaker 1: it was warm. Oh and he moonlighted on weekends as
Speaker 1: an Elvis impersonator in several of the local dives.
Speaker 2: And the guy kind of looked like Elvis a little bit.
Speaker 2: But that's why he was so memorable to me. It
Speaker 2: wasn't my friend. I was like an acquaintance that we
Speaker 2: knew from working there in the jail periodically doing electrical work.
Speaker 2: So as they were coming in, I say, I ain't
Speaker 2: doing what's going on? And he goes, well, somebody found
Speaker 2: something in the woods.
Speaker 1: Earlier that morning, another hunter had stumbled over something in
Speaker 1: those woods. He went to check it out. It was
Speaker 1: the skull of a preteen girl.
Speaker 2: He had found that skull, took it home, took it home.
Speaker 1: Later that day, the hunter called the cops. And now,
Speaker 1: as costalgo told Peter and Bruce, he was out there
Speaker 1: looking for her body.
Speaker 2: So we're like, no way. You know, this is Putnam County.
Speaker 2: Back then it was a quieter town. You don't hear
Speaker 2: this stuff here. So my friend Bruce and I said,
Speaker 2: do you mind if we kind of look around and
Speaker 2: help you. So he goes, uh, yeah, no problem.
Speaker 1: Cops rarely let civilians walk their crime scene. According to Peter, though,
Speaker 1: that's what happened here.
Speaker 2: So I'm walking and my buddy Bruce goes, hey, come
Speaker 2: over here.
Speaker 1: Castaldo and the other cops rushed over to Bruce. He
Speaker 1: was crouched in the clearing between the trees, over a
Speaker 1: mound of sticks and leaves that looked composed. He lifted
Speaker 1: one of the branches and a chunk of the ground
Speaker 1: cover came up. He saw something underneath it.
Speaker 2: It was her skeleton. There's a tremendous amount of debris
Speaker 2: as well. I mean, you see the skeleton, but it's
Speaker 2: not like this bright white thing that's sticking out in
Speaker 2: the woods. There was a mandible the lower part of
Speaker 2: the jaw and her moram was tied inde mandible was
Speaker 2: sitting on the ground. There was hair there. You could
Speaker 2: see there was hair there, dirty blonde like hair, just
Speaker 2: laying there in the leaves. It was the ribbed cage.
Speaker 2: It looked like it's kind of sickening. I mean, it
Speaker 2: looked like the rib cage was mostly intact. This skeleton
Speaker 2: was small too. It was It was a small skeleton.
Speaker 2: It was horrible.
Speaker 1: The body belonged to a twelve year old girl, a
Speaker 1: girl going missing a full year prior. Her name was
Speaker 1: Josette Right and it was Costaldo they put in charge
Speaker 1: of finding her. The cops taped the site off and
Speaker 1: gathered forensics. They were clothes draped over the body, including
Speaker 1: the coach she was last seen wearing. It was badly moldered,
Speaker 1: with plant where it's growing through it. Her broad been
Speaker 1: tied around her head. Forensics pros would later say that
Speaker 1: it had been used to gagger, along with her underwear,
Speaker 1: which had been stuffed in her mouth. Her hands were
Speaker 1: bound in a complex odd tie. A sash cord ran
Speaker 1: from her wrist to both her neck and ankle, yanking
Speaker 1: her right foot back behind her and not far from
Speaker 1: her body, cops found a hunting knife rusted in the damp.
Speaker 1: I'm Paul Salatarov, and for thirty three years I've written
Speaker 1: for Rolling Stone magazine. I go after racist cops who
Speaker 1: shoot and kill on her black kids. I investigate me
Speaker 1: on Nazi's bent on genocide in Virginia, and social media
Speaker 1: tech lords who look the other way, while the cartel's
Speaker 1: poisoned children on their platforms. Now, when you write those
Speaker 1: kinds of stories, one after another, you build a layer
Speaker 1: of callous around your heart. But this story has pierced
Speaker 1: the skin and will not give me peace. I keep
Speaker 1: hearing the voices of girls who'd warned the cops about
Speaker 1: a demon, a hundred of girls hiding in the woods.
Speaker 1: And I keep hearing the voice of that demon in
Speaker 1: the woods, a voice that's still in my head five
Speaker 1: years later. You'll soon meet him in this reason. In fact,
Speaker 1: he's lurking here.
Speaker 3: In this episode. To him, my madness, laughter, my fears, sorrows,
Speaker 3: depths are endless.
Speaker 1: In this.
Speaker 3: Valley of the years. I want to see your revelation.
Speaker 3: I want to know whar I'm reaching out and desperate
Speaker 3: shn to the one who's holding the stars, to the
Speaker 3: one who's holding holding the stars.
Speaker 1: This is the devil's quarry.