0:00 Dennis Rader was president of the church council at Christ Lutheran Church in Park City, Kansas.0:09 Last week, we explored the Menendez murders, a story of rage and privilege boiling over inside a single family home.0:21 But the story of Dennis Rader is a different kind of darkness...0:27 one that lived right next door, for thirty years, completely unseen.0:34 He was a husband.0:36 A father of two.0:38 A Boy Scout troop leader.0:40 He was the man who would write you a citation if your dog barked too much.0:48 And in his secret life, he was a monster who called his murders… his “projects.” It began with a fantasy.0:58 As a young man, Rader discovered photos of Harvey Glatman’s victims—women bound, terrified, helpless.1:08 For most people, it would be a vision of horror.1:13 For Dennis Rader, he said it was the greatest sexual rush he had ever achieved.1:21 That feeling became a hunger.1:24 An obsession.1:25 He called it "Factor X"...1:28 a malevolent force inside him that needed to be fed.1:33 And he was a meticulous planner.1:36 He would stalk his victims for weeks, sometimes months.1:42 Learning their routines.1:44 Their schedules.1:46 When they left for work.1:48 When they came home.1:51 He wasn't looking for an opportunity.1:54 He was creating one.1:56 He was a master of the hunt, and the city of Wichita was his private hunting ground.2:05 He wanted more than just the act itself.2:09 He wanted recognition.2:11 He wanted a name.2:13 So he gave himself one.2:15 After murdering four members of the Otero family in January 1974, he wrote a letter.2:24 He tucked it inside an engineering book and dropped it in the public library.2:31 In it, he took credit, and he signed off with a chilling moniker that would terrorize the city for a generation.2:43 B.2:43 T.2:43 K.2:43 Bind.2:44 Torture.2:44 Kill.2:45 The letters became part of the project.2:49 Taunting the police.2:51 Taunting the media.2:53 Filled with details only the killer could know.2:58 He reveled in the fear he created.3:01 He was a compliance officer for the city, a man obsessed with rules.3:08 And at night, he was the one breaking the ultimate rule, again and again, and getting away with it.3:18 He murdered ten people between 1974 and 1991.3:22 Then… he just stopped.3:25 The letters stopped.3:27 The killings stopped.3:29 For more than a decade, BTK was a ghost.3:33 A local horror story that parents told their kids.3:38 The city of Wichita breathed a collective sigh of relief.3:44 But the monster wasn’t gone.3:46 He was just dormant.3:48 He was still leading the church council.3:53 Still raising his kids.3:55 Still living right there, in plain sight.3:59 Then, in 2004, the ghost returned.4:02 A letter arrived at the Wichita Eagle newspaper.4:07 It was from BTK.4:09 After thirteen years of silence, his ego could no longer stand it.4:16 He needed the spotlight again.4:19 He sent packages.4:20 Cereal boxes with dolls tied up inside.4:24 More letters.4:26 He was playing his old game with a new generation of detectives.4:32 He was arrogant.4:34 He felt invincible.4:35 And that’s when he made his first mistake.4:40 He asked the police a question.4:43 A technical question.4:45 In one of his communications, he asked, "Can I communicate with you on a floppy disk and not be traced?" The police saw their opening.4:59 They knew they were dealing with a profound narcissist.5:04 Someone who believed he was smarter than everyone.5:09 So they played his game.5:12 They responded through a classified ad in the newspaper.5:17 "Rex, it will be OK." They lied.5:20 They told him the disk would be safe.5:24 And Dennis Rader, the master planner, the man who had outsmarted them for thirty years… believed them.5:34 He sent the disk.5:36 A purple Memorex floppy disk.5:39 And on it, in the metadata of a deleted document, was a name.5:45 The name "Dennis." And the location where the document was last used: Christ Lutheran Church.5:55 The two worlds of Dennis Rader were about to collide.6:00 The church council president.6:03 And the monster.6:04 Investigators quickly learned that the president of the church council was a man named Dennis Rader.6:15 They got a warrant for his daughter’s DNA from a pap smear on file at her university clinic.6:24 It was a match.6:25 On February twenty-fifth, 2005, Dennis Rader was driving home for lunch.6:33 He saw the police cars lining his street and thought, "oh, there's some trouble in the neighborhood." He had no idea the trouble was him.6:46 When the officer pulled him over and asked his name, the thirty-year reign of terror ended on a quiet suburban street.6:58 In the interrogation room, he didn't ask for a lawyer.7:04 He asked for a glass of water.7:07 And then, for thirty hours, he talked.7:11 He confessed to everything, with no emotion, no remorse.7:16 He described his "projects" with a chilling, clinical detachment.7:23 He was sentenced to ten consecutive life sentences.7:28 One for each of his victims.7:31 His family was destroyed.7:33 His daughter, Kerri, would later write that she lived in the shadow of a man who was both her father and a monster.7:45 The community that had trusted him was left to wonder how evil could wear such a normal face.7:54 How the man who checked their fence height was capable of such profound depravity.8:03 In one of his police interviews, Rader casually remarked on the plans he had for other victims, the ones he stalked but never attacked.8:16 "There are a lot of lucky people," he said.8:21 He was talking about the ones who got away.8:25 But the statement hangs in the air, a testament to all the other quiet, normal-looking houses on all the other quiet, normal-looking streets.8:39 A reminder of the darkness that can hide in plain sight, and the profound human cost when it finally steps into the light.
