Posts Tagged ‘MA’

chartier-judithJudith Ann Chartier was 17 when she vanished in Billerica, Massachusetts. on June 5, 1982 along with her vehicle, a 1970’s Black Dodge Dart Swinger.

Earlier that night she had attended a party with her then boyfriend. Sometime during the party she had an argument with him and dropped him off at his home before returning back to the party and leaving alone at approximately 2AM. She never made it to her home in Chelmsford, MA.

The town of Chelmsford is approximately 4 miles from the city of Lowell, and is located on Interstate 495 of the Boston metro outer beltway.

Chartier was employed at a fast food restaurant in Chelmsford at the time and those closest to the missing teen alleged she was being harassed by a male co-worker. In fact, it is believed she was afraid of this individual however, he was never entered in as a suspect.

According to Most Wanted Hoes the United States Secret Service notified Chelmsford Police Department that the infamous counterfeiter and sexual sadist, James Mitchell DeBardeleben had been in the town the day prior to Judith Chartier’s disappearance. DeBardeleben is alleged to have murdered several brunette women over an eighteen-year span. Arrested on May 25, 1983, in Knoxville, Tennessee, Secret Service Agents searched DeBardeleben’s 1971 Chrysler seizing evidence including a receipt from a motel in Chelmsford dated June 4, 1982.

DeBardeleben denies having ever met Judith Chartier. Nonetheless, DeBardeleben was in the area the day before Judith’s disappearance and she fit his victim profile. DeBardeleben may have first spotted Judith at the fast food restaurant where she worked. Furthermore, DeBardeleben somewhat varied his motive of operation, he could have stalked Judith, then while impersonating a police officer abducted her. However, DeBardeleben as to date is not known to move or hide his victims. So, if DeBardeleben had abducted and murdered Judith Chartier, her remains, or at least her vehicle should have been discovered by now. Unfortunately, neither Judith nor her Dodge Swinger has been found, and that is because both are hidden. Therefore, the possibility exists that DeBardeleben was not involved in Judith Chartier disappearance.

If you have any information regarding the disappearance of Judith Ann Chartier please contact the Chelmsford Police Department in Chelmsford, Massachusetts at 978-256-2521.

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dr-haugh

UPDATE – Former Doctor Richard Haugh, now 71, has been captured in Columbia by Federal agents and Colombian police after being on the run for more than 2 decades due to various sex crimes against children. Click here for the latest update on this case.

 

Wanted by the Belmont Police Department / Massachusetts State Police Department for Crimes against children

Warrant #:9281CR000082

Dr. Richard S. Haugh is an accomplished author, publisher and academic. He is accused of committing numerous sexual offenses against a female child and there may be other victims out there.

Haugh was arrested in 1992 as he left his residence armed with a licensed .25 caliber handgun. He was charged and later indicted by a Middlesex Superior Court Grand Jury for two counts of Rape of a Child, two counts of Indecent A&B on a child under 14, assault to rape a child and disseminating obscene matter to a minor.

He was supposed to appear in court on August 12, 1992 but never showed up and has been on the run ever since.

Photo of Dr. Haugh taken in 1992

Description of Fugitive:

  • Full Name: Richard S. Haugh
  • Birthdate: May 4, 1942
  • On the Run Since: August 1992
  • Age Then: 51
  • Age Now: 71
  • Hair: Black (it has most likely started greying and he most likely dyed his hair lighter following his warrant).
  • Eyes: Blue
  • Race: WhiteSex: Male
  • Height:5’11” Weight: 155 pounds

Note: Richard Haugh has been on the run for over twenty years and has definitely aged since his last known appearance. It’s important you focus on features including facial shape, nose, ears, eyes, etc.

Click My Fox Boston for other fugitives evading authorities in Massachusetts.

If you have any information on the whereabouts of this child predator you’re urged to please contact:
Massachusetts State Police Department 1-800-KAPTURE (1-800-527-8873).

Rose_Moniz

Photo of Rose Marie Moniz

On March 23, 2001 Rose Moniz, a 41-year-old female from New Bedford, Massachusetts, was found by her father murdered inside her home on 3448 Acushnet Ave. She had been bludgeoned to death.

Frances Cunha, the mother of Rose Moniz, quoted a man known to Moniz. She said:

“He said he would kill her. He told her, ‘It may take a week, it may take a month, it may
take a year, but mark my words, I will kill you.” “She was a good girl…..and someone beat
her to a pulp. My beautiful daughter.”

But despite the threats of an unknown man, Rose’s case remains unsolved.

If you believe you have any information regarding this cold case you’re asked to please contact: New Bedford Police Department’s Unsolved Homicide Tip Line at 1-866-SOLVE-07

Pictured; Photo of murdered victim

New Bedford, MA (New England) — On May 30, 1985 the deceased body of John Moura, a 42-year-old taxi driver from New Bedford, was found hunched over the wheel of his taxi-cab at Fort Rodman in New Bedford, MA. He had been shot more then once from the back. His jewelry and wallet, which contained money was laying right next to his body, crossing out robbery as a motive. His taxi-cab and meter were still running.

Police have been looking for a person-of-interest for decades. During one of his taxi-runs, Moura had picked up a unidentified man in-front of ‘Bank of Boston’ on Pleasant Street in New Bedford around 11a.m. the morning of his death. By noon-time, Moura would not respond to radio contact to the cab company he worked for. A couple hours after the 11a.m. pick-up of the unidentified man, his body was found.

Artist Sketch of unidentified person-of-interest (description below)

The person of interest is described as a Caucasian male with dark/black hair that was neatly-groomed, he was around 5’7,” weighing approximately 170 pounds with a slight gut and medium build. The unknown man was last see wearing a black t-shirt, black pants and is believed to have been carrying a black or tan jacket.

Moura mother has since died without answers of her sons untimely death. He has left behind five children who are still searching for answers.

There isn’t much information found on this murder case and most people have never heard of it. In-fact, aside from this article, the only one that comes up on a search engine is CTCOLDCASES which is the source of the information posted. Regardless of how long this case has been cold, it still needs justice!

If you have any information regarding this cold-case, please contact: New Bedford Police Department at 508-991-6300 extension 327. (all tips are anonymous. You can also contact the NBPD by mail or going to their website.)

karina_holmerKarina Holmer, 20, was a Swedish AuPair who left her home country of Sweden and travelled to America to live with a Boston, Massachusetts family.

An AuPair is a childcare provider who receives a temporary visa to travel to another country and live with a family and care for their children in exchange for a predetermined wage and cultural experience. Karina was excited at the opportunity to travel to the US. Four months into the exchange and she was adapting very well. Her AuPair family described her as a responsible, respectable, trustworthy and caring woman who took her job her job taking care of children seriously, but also enjoyed her free time and exploring different places in New England. Just a young woman figuring her life out and having fun on the way. She had no enemies, at least none that were known.

The weekends were her time to go out and enjoy herself, exploring new clubs and bars, hanging out with friends, and meeting new people, and June 21, 1996 was no different.

On the night of June 21st she decided to go to Zanzibar, a popular nightclub on Boylston Place in Boston. She had been there before and was familiar with the scenery. She dressed to the nines, dotting a shining gray sweater and silver pants, which was the style then, and she was very stylish. Many described her as a very attractive woman and she had many males approaching her. She was always kind even if the attraction wasn’t mutual, and was far from stuck up.

zanzibar

 

Outdated photo of Karina dressed in all black at Zanzibar prior to June 21, 1996

When she arrived at the club she was seen enjoying herself, drinking, dancing, socializing and even singing. She didn’t have a care in the world. Shortly after however, she was seen passed out on the clubs restroom floor. It appeared that she had gotten a little to intoxicated and like many people, being intoxicated more than likely lowered her guard and judgement and gave a sexual predator and murderer the opportunity to take advantage.

Details after the restroom incident are foggy and something only a few people, including her killer, no. What we do no is that the former Au-Pair was attacked, either by a stranger or someone she met that night or possibly someone she had met over the past four months in the United States, although unlikely given the circumstances.

Karina was not only murdered, she was tortured, sexually assaulted and dismembered into two pieces. The top half of her body was discarded in a Fenway dumpster but the bottom half of her body was never recovered.

Police searched high and low for the person(s) responsible. They tracked Karina’s movements in the 48 hours leading up to her death, interviewed dozens of individuals, and followed hundreds of tips. But despite the hard efforts her case remains unsolved and her killer’s identity remains unknown.

darker-red-divider

The below article was published by The Phoenix , a Boston news website. It gives the account of Karina’s murder by a man who was one of the last people to have been Karina Holmer alive:

karina-holmerTHE CASE:

It’s been 15 years since the top half of Holmer’s body was discovered in a Fenway dumpster. The crime fascinated Boston, paralyzed its nightlife, and spurred an investigation that sputtered along for years. But the police never caught her killer.

They never even found the rest of her body.

I didn’t know Holmer by name, but I knew her face. I had said hello to her time after time when she’d come in to Zanzibar on weekend nights to drink; she got served, even though she was only 20. She was known as “Swedish Nanny.” They all were. There were a bunch of them, European au pairs, and they liked to party. They’d dance, they’d drink, and if they were lucky they’d end up getting finger-banged in the back stairwell during one of DJ Tad Bonvie’s cheese-heavy medleys.

We really should have seen this coming.

Monday morning rolled around, and I headed in for my day shift at the Zanzibar offices. The first thing I saw was the news crews blocking up the street. Big microphones bounced off my face as I made my way through the pack.

When I got up to Zanzibar, the tiny office was bursting with cops, both uniformed officers and detectives in plain clothes. Sit down, I was told, they’ll get to you soon enough.

Finally, the cops crowded me into one of the manager’s offices. Did you see anyone suspicious on Friday night, or any other night? they demanded, as I slouched behind the big desk in the poorly lit room. Where were you at the time of the murder?

I was a grubby-looking guy those days, I won’t lie. Plus, a friend at Allston Beat used to give me bottles of Hard Candy nail polish, and I had each fingernail painted a different color. I must have looked suspicious. When they finished asking questions, they started over again.

They questioned my Alley coworkers, too. Cheryl Hanson, who ran Bishop’s Pub across the alley, told them she’d talked to Holmer the night she died. “It’s kind of freaky to think I was just complimenting her on her clothes,” she remembers, “and now I’m giving a description of them so they can help identify her murdered body.”

My buddy Thomas was questioned after the cops found out he’d been shot one night outside Zanzibar months before. “I had to get all my credit-card receipts from that weekend and put them in chronological order to give to them,” he told me years later. “After that, I never heard another word from them.”

The cops called me in for questioning again and again. It got ridiculous. I think I finally told them that I was a coke-head and too weak to even lift up a chainsaw.

A young woman with dirty-blonde hair was passed out along the left wall, teetering on a tall chair with her head buried in her hands. I thought nothing of it as I glided by. This wasn’t anything new, you see. It wouldn’t have been a Friday night without at least one zonked-out babe hanging out in Zanzibar just after closing time looking for her friends or a one night stand.

This was the ’90s, after all — a time when Zima was king, the cocaine was crap, and gazillionaire princes from God-knows-where guzzled Cristal amid the sweaty Euro crowd scene. And on the weekends, they all packed into Zanzibar, the Theater District club where I worked, the sweaty beating heart of a bar-lined alley known as “the Alley.”

From the balcony above, one of the bartenders called down to me. “Fayner!” he yelled. “Can you walk that chick to a cab or something?”

I pointed to the woman I had just passed. “This chick?”

He replied yes.

“No problem, just let me grab something from the back first,” I said, as I made my way to the cooler to rifle beer. But when I came back, she was gone.

So I guess you could say that I was one of the last people to see Karina Holmer alive.

PERSON OF INTEREST

Eyewitnesses recalled many contradicting things that morning. Holmer left Zanzibar alone and got into a cab. She took off on foot with an older man. She got into a silver car with four dudes and sped off. She chatted with a crazy man and his big shaggy dog in matching Superman T-shirts. But who’s to say the woman any of those people saw was in fact Karina Holmer? Drunken chicks wearing shiny silver pants spewed out of the Alley every night of the week in those days.

Amid the confusion, suspects emerged. The first and most obvious was Frank Rapp, a Dover artist and Holmer’s boss; a mysterious fire had burned outside Rapp’s condo complex after Holmer went missing. But the police couldn’t find anything linking him to the crime.

After that, the investigation sprawled out in a dozen different directions. Detectives questioned a panhandler, Juan Polo, who was seen singing and dancing in the street with Holmer the night of her murder. They also questioned Sleep Chamber frontman and noted junkie John Zewizz, who happened to live two blocks from the dumpster where Holmer was found. And they investigated Herbie Witten, the crazy guy with the dog in the Superman T-shirt.

But no one was ever arrested.

When I tried to talk to the cops for this story, all I got back was this boilerplate e-mail: “The Boston Police Homicide Unit continues to seek justice for Karina Holmer. Investigators share a strong desire with Karina’s family to hold the perpetrator accountable. If anyone has any information about what happened to Karina, please contact 617.343.4470. Detectives will continue to aggressively pursue any new leads.”

The theory that had the most traction with those of us who worked down at the Alley was that a cop who had dated Holmer was the real killer. But the most that ever came of that was a terse Boston Globe story, noting that an unnamed officer had been questioned in connection with the murder.

“No one’s a suspect, but everyone’s a suspect,” a “source close to the investigation” told the Globe.

PARTY’S OVER

The Alley became a ghost town after that.

At Zanzibar, it felt as if the place was cursed. Night after night, the club was empty. The manager would send staff home. Everyone started looking for new jobs elsewhere. No one wanted to go down with the ship.

“Everyone was on this heightened alert,” recalls Hanson, “making sure underage people were kept away; definitely being more diligent with IDs. Basically, we stopped making money.”

Outside our doors, there was something heavy in the air. Before, at closing time, the Alley would be packed with people — screaming, yelling, making out, and puking. But after the murder, it was quiet. People walked to cars or to the T in pairs or groups. Women were careful who they talked to.

In October, the city suspended Zanzibar’s license for serving underage drinkers. By the following year, the club was reopened with a new name, new management, and a mostly-new staff, and soon business was blazing again. But that crowd — the Euro kids and the nannies and the yuppies — never really came back (probably for the best).

Karina Holmer’s killer is still out there. It’s hard not to wonder about.

“Yeah, I still think about her death every once in a while,” Hanson says. “Every time I’m near Lansdowne Street and I pass that dumpster, I wonder what happened that weekend.”

On the evening of October 13, 2002, 16 year old teenager Devyn Jude Murphy was stabbed to death in a house party in Wareham, Massachusetts. There was an altercation at the party which was attended by around 50 people, yet no one has come forward with any information. According to family members, Murphy had aspirations of becoming a chiropractor. It is believed that there are several people that may know who killed the teen, but either are afraid or refuse to come forward. If you have any information about who murdered Devyn Jude Murphy please contact the Massachusetts State Police at (508) 759-4488. All calls can be confidential.

Source: ctcoldcases.com

 

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♦ Article Published 10/14/08 – Source Below ♦

→ 52-year-old Anne Murphy of Onset never got to say goodbye to her son. Five years ago the Sandwich High School student went to a party and never came home.

MURPHY: My son Devyn Murphy was killed; he was 16 years old. He was 45 days into his 16th year, and he went to a party and he was stabbed. Every belief that you ever had about God or anything, it changes. There is before and after — before your child’s death and after your child’s death and family member. And you are not the same person.

Murphy doesn’t remember much of the first year after Devyn was murdered. She is mother to two other children, and she was left afraid, she said, walking around like a zombie with only her son’s death and her own guilt filling her head and sickening her stomach.

MURPHY: The first year is a real blur. At first you are thinking, my child is at camp. My child is on vacation. And then the reality starts to set in. The pain, it’s like being on fire from the inside out. And it doesn’t stop. It’s a descent to hell.

And murder, Murphy says, comes with a stigma. Several family members of murder victims interviewed for this story all say the same thing: when they talk about the murder, people seen to automatically place at least some of the blame for the crime on the victim, assuming they were in a gang or were involved in something underhanded or illegal that contributed to their death.

MURPHY: There is a feeling that the victim that was killed might have done something to get themselves killed. And there is a stigma to murder, people don’t want to talk about murder. Uh, you feel stigmatized — my child was the one who was murdered. And people feel, “Oh, they must be in a gang or they must have done something wrong that this would happen to them. Surely there must be some dark secret or some dark side of these people that this would come into their lives.”

48-year-old Bill Belanger sits across from Murphy as she speaks about her son’s death and he nods along.

BELANGER: Listening to Anne, it’s incredible, because if I were to follow her I would have said, “Ditto.” I mean, Ditto. Bravo, Anne.

Belanger is part of a Parents of Murdered Children support group in southern New Hampshire. He’s a big guy, large in stature and imposing. But he’s obviously broken by grief. He came to Cape Cod to support Murphy and the members of the POMC chapter here. Belanger and his wife Gina lost their daughter Erin to a murderer in Florida four years ago. She was 22, and their only child.

BELANGER: I remember at my first meeting asking people like, “Do you people want to take the ones who killed your son or daughter and strangle them to death”? And they are like, “Oh, yeah.” These people understand. All the hatred and the grief, they understand it. To me, it is my opium.

Bellanger is filled with anger, guilt and regret, he says. His daughter Erin wanted to escape the cold New England winters, so Belanger says he encouraged her to move to Florida and live near her grandmother there. She had a job, was renting a house and starting her life as a young adult.

BELANGER: It was a mass murder. Everyone in that house was killed. They were beaten with baseball bats and knives. I couldn;t give her an open casket. I had to cremate her because the damage was so bad, it was just horrible.

For Belanger, the POMC group has been a life-saver. It gives him an outlet to channel his grief and anger and advocate against the injustice he sees surrounding the issue of murder. He hates for the meetings to end, he says, and he feels safe spending time with people who understand his pain and want to prevent other parents from experiencing a similar loss.

BELANGER: When we get together and have our meetings, we hug each other. We give each other a hankie, but we are doing this so we don’t have to hug you one day. We are doing this so we don’t have to hug you one day. We don’t want to do that. And I think everyone here can agree to that. We don’t want to give you a hug one day. So that is why I do it.

David Flood of Ipswich is involved with the same POMC chapter as Belanger. He says that in addition to offering comfort and support, the group also helps victims find a way to channel their emotions into advocacy. But still, no one, they say, even the politicians don’t want to talk about murder.

FLOOD: Clearly something is broken and we don’t know how to fix it yet.

  Before meeting for an interview, Flood and Belanger say they both experienced a typical response while chatting over a cup of coffee in Woods Hole.

FLOOD: The tendency is to turn off when you hear Parents of Murdered Children. Like, we were down at this restaurant, nice sunny day, tourists all around. We started talking about it, and then we mentioned the group: Parents of Murdered Children. And there wasn’t a French fry crunched on that property for five minutes after we said Parents of Murdered Children. Who wants to talk about that on a nice day? Really weird.

While the pain and emotion associated with their losses may be similar, every murder is different, with varying circumstances and judicial outcomes. Four men were charged in Erin’s death, Belanger says, and the man who actually killed her is awaiting the death penalty. In Anne Murphy’s case, police think they know who did it, but no one has ever been charged with killing Devyn. Murphy says the lack of prosecution is just another senseless, inexplicable twist in the story of her son’s untimely death.  But both Murphy and Belanger say they’ve reached the point in their grief where they want to affect change. They want to honor their children’s lives and work until no other parents suffer the way they have.

SOURCE: http://www.wgbh.org/cainan/article/?item_id=4157829