Breaking the Silence of the Lambs

By Dr. Jack A. Apsche and Jerry Jennings

Written by Jack A. Apsche, Ed.D., ABPP and Jerry L. Jennings, Ph.D.

“Breaking the Silence of the Lambs” is a unique and fascinating story within a story. It is, first, a dark journey into the secret world of the infamous “Silence of the Lambs” serial killer, Gary M. Heidnik. It presents 26 secret letters from Death Row that reveal the truth of how Heidnik made a fortune in the stock market and conducted church services in his living room, while a harem of starving sexual slaves were chained in the cellar beneath their feet. It is also the story of Jack Apsche, Gary Heidnik’s psychologist and the recipient of these personal letters, who is prepared to “break the silence of the lambs” by revealing Heidnik’s secret letters and his own simultaneous struggle with the dark side.

A note from the Publisher: "Although this book provides answers to the mystery of Heidnik and serial killers, my favorite part was seeing how his psychologist had to struggle with his own dark side to reach those answers."

When the case begins, Jack is still deeply haunted by the horrors of Vietnam, mired in a self-destructive life of drug abuse, criminal violence and sex orgies. Letter by letter, the book takes the reader through the inside experience of being Heidnik’s psychologist and the emotional toll of dealing with the infamous killer’s cunning and the uncensored revelations of his perverse crimes. At the same time, in a personal narrative that is harrowing in its honesty, Jack reveals the truth of his simultaneous struggle with his own dark side, of death and killing in Vietnam, depression and self-destruction, reckless gangsterism, and cocaine-charged orgies.

During the course of his unblinking investigation of Heidnik’s ultimate human evil, Jack becomes transformed by the emerging power of love – for his daughter, his new wife and stepfamily, and finally, himself – and it yields the path to healing and hope. By the end of the story, Jack has used his insights from the Heidnik case to create an innovative new treatment for helping violent and disturbed adolescents and has redeemed himself as a husband, father and citizen.

• Language: English
• Publisher: ePrinted Books
• Release date: Aug 31, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311289049

Dr. Jack A. Apsche

Jack A. Apsche holds a doctorate in Psychological Studies from Temple University in Philadelphia. He is currently pursuing an advanced degree in Criminal Justice. Dr. Apsche is a researcher, author, lecturer, and consultant His curiosity in human behavior extends well beyond serial killers, from the everyday problems of everyday people, to the particular problems of Viet Nam veterans, the behavior of organized crime and law enforcement, and the rise of the German neo-Nazi movement His research centers on the quest to uncover the reasons for the behavior differences between the ‘saints,” the “sinners,” and the rest of us.Dr. Apsche lives with his wife and family in West Virginia. USA

Book preview

I. THE CASE

Chapter 1

The Untold Story of Gary M. Heidnik

In March 1987, the national media exploded with the story of a horrific sexual murder in Philadelphia. In seventeen weeks of terror, Gary M. Heidnik kidnapped, imprisoned, raped, and tortured six women in his basement, killing two and dismembering one. Like most people, I read the newspaper accounts with curiosity and revulsion, but I never imagined that I would come to play a key role in the case that inspired The Silence of the Lambs.

Over 25 years later, Gary Heidnik remains one of the most notorious sex criminals in history. His crimes continue to fascinate and haunt. Hundreds of books, articles, TV shows and internet sites have documented the bizarre and shocking exploits of this man who kidnapped and tortured a harem of sexual slaves, while making a fortune in financial investments and started his own church. Yet, for all the attention that this infamous case has received, there is another Heidnik story that has never been told.

What no one knows is that Heidnik wrote a series of 26 intimate letters from Death Row. In over 150 hand-written pages, Heidnik revealed his life, his personality, and the motivations and thinking that drove his violent sexual atrocities. Those personal letters were written to me, Jack Apsche, the psychologist on his defense team.

This book will reveal the extraordinary story of how and why I became the confidant to Heidnik’s secrets. It will present these private letters in their entirety for the first time, analyze their meaning, and chronicle the roller-coaster relationship between this crazy serial killer and me, a half-crazy Vietnam veteran. In fact, the letters are comprehensive enough to serve as Heidnik’s autobiography, the genuine inside story, told in his own words. As such, it is a grim portrayal of loneliness, pain, and destruction. But it is also my story, which is a story of redemption.

When the Heidnik case first began, my life was in ruins – a mess of post-traumatic nightmares, drug abuse, sexual addiction, explosive violence, divorce, and self-contempt. The freak chance to become part of Heidnik’s defense team in September 1987 became a chance to revitalize and redeem myself. In the three years that covered Heidnik’s trial and this correspondence, I was challenged both personally and professionally. When this strange odyssey began, I shared too many qualities with Heidnik. We were the same age and the same height and build. We were both failed husbands. We had both killed and we had both engaged in obsessive sexual behavior. We both hated our current situations and had no promise for our futures. And we were both, arguably, crazy.

By the end of the Heidnik period, I could be proud of myself as a good father, husband, and citizen, and an accomplished psychologist. I would never credit Heidnik with my transformation but, for better or worse, Heidnik was my dark companion on the journey to health. The story in these pages reveals the darkest depths of human ugliness and despair – for both Heidnik and me. But also, I hope, it conveys the promise and triumph of human goodness and love.

It was very difficult to write this book. It was hard enough to write my first book about the Heidnik case, which was published in 1993 under the title, Probing the Mind of a Serial Killer. That book used excerpts from a few of the letters presented here and was intended as a serious psychological analysis of Heidnik and serial killers. To be honest, the book was flawed and incomplete, partly due to my exhaustion from dealing with Heidnik himself. I was depleted by the project and the quality of the book likely suffered.

Since that time, however, my career has remained inextricably linked to Heidnik. I continue to receive as many requests for interviews as I did when the case was fresh. For that reason, I have always wanted to revisit the case and write a better book that would explain the deeper psychopathology of Gary Heidnik. To reach that depth, I felt that I needed to be brutally honest about myself during that same time period. But did I dare to confess the reprehensible and humiliating details of my own past in order to explain the mystery of Heidnik? Such candor would be risking my personal and professional reputation. I needed help and encouragement.

Enter my good friend and colleague, Jerry Jennings, another clinical psychologist. I told Jerry about my experiences with Heidnik and that I had a trove of his personal letters packed somewhere in my attic. Jerry urged me to find them. After reading through Heidnik’s many letters, he had a great idea. We would use the letters in their exact words and chronology to give a live voice to Gary Heidnik. The series of letters would be like private clinical sessions between Heidnik and me. We would analyze each letter as forensic psychologists, but I would also reveal what it was like, as a person, to deal with such a complex, manipulative, and repulsive criminal. Through most of this book, I discuss Heidnik as a professional. But many times I take my tie off and speak personally, revealing the gut level reality of how I felt and what it was like to struggle with the depravity of Heidnik.

With the infusion of Jerry’s energy and talent, we have created a uniquely personal and professional forensic investigation of an infamous serial killer that is the first of its kind. Other investigators have used letters or transcripts of interviews to analyze their subjects. But we don’t believe that any published criminal forensic study has ever had an original correspondence of such volume to literally fill a book that could sustain readers’ interest.

In February 1989, Heidnik began his fifteenth letter with the words, Greetings from the Crypt. Written shortly after his umpteenth suicide attempt, the words convey the narcissistic bravado and idiosyncratic flair for words that characterize Heidnik’s correspondence with me. Each Heidnik letter is a chapter in this book. Each chapter is titled using a distinctive phrase from that given letter. The letters vary in length from one to 28 pages and vary in attitude as well. At times, Heidnik’s transparent efforts to justify and minimize his crimes are tedious and irksome. This is Heidnik the criminal – arrogant, crass, and manipulative. Yet, many times he is surprisingly candid and reveals the deep insecurities that drove his abominations. This is Heidnik the person, a vulnerable mental patient. Through Heidnik’s letters, we can observe the continually shifting balance between bravado and inadequacy, between deception and honesty, between controlling manipulation and child-like helplessness.

Our intention is for the reader to experience the emotions, mystery, and discomfort of these letters as if they are private sessions in a therapy room. As much as possible, we allow Heidnik to speak at length before interrupting his letter narratives to analyze his meaning or to point out the workings of his disordered and criminal mind. But we also attempt to show my personal experience of the relationship. What was it like for me to interact with Heidnik and be immersed in the dark ink of his psyche? How did the ugliness of revisiting his atrocities and the egotism of his self-serving explanations drain me emotionally? How did my own personal ugliness and on-going struggle with sex, drugs, and depression play into our dynamic? You might mistake my attitude and frank disclosures as arrogance or even egotism, but it is honest and direct. I share my worst side because I think this story demands the truth, not because I am proud of it.

Hopefully, Jerry and I have succeeded in creating something unique, interesting, and worthwhile. In describing what this book is intended to be, we also should be clear on what this book is not. It is not sensationalist pulp for those seeking titillating stories of the macabre. It is not a citation-heavy academic monograph meant for clinical forensic professionals. It is not a treatise about the legal issues of the insanity defense as applied to Heidnik. In my first book, I drew evidence from a few of these private letters to buttress my argument that Heidnik was insane. In this book, we present the full collection of Heidnik’s letters in their original chronology, not to add more convincing evidence to a forensic proof, but to reveal the actual thinking of this cunning, but mentally disordered criminal.

And now, in the words of Gary Heidnik from letter #9, You are about to take a ride on a literary roller coaster. At all times I endeavor to be entertaining… BUT I’m warning you ahead of time, you have to be wary of me… Wary, indeed.

Authors’ note: With the exception of the individuals and victims whose names are part of the public and court records of the Heidnik case, the identities of other people, such as Heidnik’s children, have been replaced with generic false names like Doe, Smith, and Norton.

Chapter 2

Meet the Devil

When the Heidnik case began in September 1987, I was a psychologist, but I was not a trained specialist in the field of forensic psychology. I just happened to have a lawyer friend, who was the cousin of Gary Heidnik’s defense attorney, the sharp and charismatic A. Charles Peruto. My friend introduced me to Peruto, who hired me as a fact witness researcher for the case. To be honest, I lacked the forensic qualifications and probably should have declined his offer, but I recognized that this was the chance of a lifetime. I would be probing the deepest, darkest secrets of a notorious serial killer in a nationally televised court case. Peruto made no promises of any pay for my services, but said he would do his best. I didn’t care. I was thrilled to take the opportunity.

My unexpected new job began with two big boxes stuffed with a jumble of arrest records, psychiatric reports, and information related to Heidnik. I had to somehow organize this chaos into a cogent and comprehensive understanding of Heidnik’s extensive psychiatric and criminal history and then connect it to his mental condition at the time of the killings. The boxes were an apt metaphor. I was trying to sort out Heidnik’s life from two big messy boxes at the same time that I was trying to sort out my own messed up life. My problem was that I didn’t have any boxes to organize my life and I didn’t know where to begin to organize his.

I was forty years old and had just earned my doctorate in psychology, but the newly crowned Doctor Apsche had no clue. I was living in a cloud of cocaine and alcohol and frequent flashbacks of combat in Vietnam. I had recently lost my closest friend and caretaker, my older brother Bill, to cancer. My marriage of 13 years was ending in a bitter and excruciating divorce and her lawyer was out for my blood. He insultingly demanded to know how many children I had killed in Vietnam. I suggested that if he wanted to find out if I was baby killer, he could read my fucking military record or enlist himself. He declined to confirm that I had a shitload of medals or anything else that would redeem my honorable service for Uncle Sam. I’m sure that my hostility made him doubt that I had ever been capable of enough good conduct to actually earn a Good Conduct Medal. Yes, the poison was flying and I was paying the price. The worst blow was losing custody of my only child, Melissa, who was then about eight years old.

I loved my daughter more than life. I always was a person who loved children and would often babysit when I was growing up. One of my recurring nightmares from Vietnam was of trying to save the life of a 3 year old baby who was hit by an A-Cav armored vehicle in a convoy somewhere around Sui Cat. I saw the accident and ran from my own A-Cav to rescue the child. He was crushed and covered in blood, but I immediately began mouth to mouth resuscitation until the medics could arrive. We were able to medi-vac him to base-camp, but he was just too badly injured to survive. I asked to be part of the detail to return the baby’s body to his family. I tried to console his parents through an interpreter, but they cursed us all. I felt horribly guilty and their curse penetrated to my deepest soul. I became completely dead of feelings. I would never forget being covered in the blood of that little crushed baby. The memory would return in a thousand nightmares.

Flashbacks. Night terrors. Numbness. Sudden violent outbursts. In September 1987, Vietnam still dominated my life. I had been counseling Vietnam veterans for five years under a federal grant program that had just expired. I was an actively post-traumatic combat veteran trying to help other actively post-traumatic veterans. Other mental health professionals would consider this to be a classic case of the wounded healer. But I didn’t give a shit. I had a duty to bring my brothers home, because our country never did, nor did the politicians, protesters or hawks. Once you are wounded, either physically or mentally, you are damaged goods and you get tossed on the heap of weak and vulnerable. I had to help my peers even though it took a heavy toll on me emotionally to revisit Vietnam on a daily basis. Hearing the stories of my fellow vets meant that I was still slugging through the hot jungle and riding shotgun in a chopper over the A Shau Valley – Monday through Saturday. I was still being visited nightly by the dead and dying faces of my past, especially one old farmer in a straw hat, a man whom I unfortunately killed and that changed me forever. I felt like I owed that old man my life and my soul, yet there was no way to repay him in this lifetime.

So this was my condition in September 1987. I was trying to overcome Vietnam, drug and sex addictions, and the pain of losing my wife, brother, and daughter – and I was doing it by starting a brand new career in forensic psychology. For too many reasons, the Heidnik case was a lifeline for yours truly – or a noose.

I had no idea what I was getting into or how far it would take me. Professionally, I was a novice and in way over my head. But, as they say, failure was not an option. To make up for my lack of experience, I determined that I would become the consummate expert on Gary M. Heidnik and serial murderers. I dedicated myself to researching and knowing more about the subject than anyone else in the world. I searched and studied anything and everything that I could find on the topic. I scoured through every page of those two 40-pound file boxes. From the chaos, I organized a detailed understanding of the case. (I also had huge help from my girlfriend and future wife, Joanne, who had everything tabbed and highlighted). In this way, I had every fact and date down cold – Heidnik’s diagnoses, hospitalizations, suicide attempts, crimes, every bizarre and abusive act – and it gave me confidence when it came time to testify in court.

After three months of intensive study, I knew every detail of Heidnik’s life, but I had not yet met him. I first interviewed him at the old Holmesburg Prison in Philadelphia in January 1988. The prison guards escorted him to a small, bare room in the mental health unit where I was waiting. He was wearing his orange prison jump suit. I was struck by our similarity in age, 40, height, over six feet, and build. As far as I could tell, Heidnik wasn’t struck by me at all. He was a career mental patient who was streetwise to psychologists and psychiatrists. By my count, he had been hospitalized 22 times and saw over 150 psychiatrists and psychologists during a 26 year period. He knew the game and was averse to yet another mental status exam and clinical interview. He was polite and respectful, but his eyes were suspicious and his responses were guarded and short. He spoke softly, but made it clear from the start that, in his own words, I may be crazy, Doc, but I’m not stupid.

Admittedly, I’m not known for my patience. After ten minutes of his evasions, I got pissed off and decided to call him out. Listen, I said, when I was in Vietnam, I killed more people than the Manson family, so let’s cut the shit. This unorthodox move intrigued Heidnik and he looked at me differently. He quickly became more engaged in the interview. He was impressed, even flattered, by how much I already knew about his life from my detailed record reviews. He spoke openly after that. This meeting would be the first of five or six interviews with Heidnik at the jail, each lasting about two hours. It marked the beginning of a unique trust that eventually led to the extraordinary personal correspondence between Heidnik and me that is featured in this book.

The Heidnik trial began on Monday, June 20, 1988. My job as the psychologist for the defense was to help prove that Heidnik was legally insane in that he did not understand the nature or quality of the crimes he committed at the time of his offenses. I was called to testify as a fact witness on Thursday and Friday. The day started badly. I was caught in traffic and arrived late and frazzled. When Peruto saw me, he followed me to the bathroom where we could confer privately. While I was standing at the urinal, he said, You better be good, Jack, because MacKenzie just fucked up. Dr. Clancy McKenzie was the psychiatrist serving as Peruto’s expert witness for the defense. This only added to my anxiety when I was called to the witness stand in front of a courtroom that was packed with reporters and people attracted by this sensational national news story.

I testified for eight hours in a brutally hot courtroom. It was a typical Philadelphia summer week, high 90s and high humidity. I took my jacket off and still felt like I was in a sauna. The judge, Lynne M. Abraham, was kind and joked with me. Three years later she would be elected as Philadelphia’s first female district attorney and she held the position for four terms, longer than anyone in the city’s history. I remember that she liked to nibble on candy during the trial (juju beads, I think) and at one point she gave me a few and said, You’re doing a good job. For a rookie like me, it was reassuring.

When the court adjourned that day, I had only one thought in mind: grab my girlfriend Joanne from the courtroom gallery and run to the nearest air conditioned bar for some ice cold beer. But I was immediately swarmed by newspaper and TV reporters, who hounded me as we fled City Hall. Since I was under a gag order, I could not answer any questions. All I could do was smile in front of the TV cameras.

The next morning I arrived for another day of testimony. The courtroom was sweltering hot again and Judge Abraham pulled me aside. I saw you on TV last night, she remarked. You were smiling. Let’s see if you keep your smile today. I was on the stand for another hour and a half and felt that it went well. When I was dismissed, Heidnik stood up and surprised me and the rest of the court with a military salute. He refused to sit down until, embarrassed, I felt obliged to return his salute. Charles Peruto then asked me to join him and Heidnik at the defense table. Heidnik was wearing the same ridiculous Hawaiian shirt that he wore every day of the five-day trial. He leaned over and whispered that the prosecutor, Charles Gallagher, was wearing mismatched brown shoes with his blue suit.

Ultimately, on June 30, after two and half days of deliberation, the jury found Heidnik guilty of murder in the first degree and he was sentenced to death by electrocution. The gracious and dignified prosecution expert, Dr. Robert Sadoff, had handed us a guilty but mentally ill plea on a silver platter. But Charles Peruto and Heidnik were determined to get a verdict of not guilty for reasons of mental defects. I sincerely believed, and still do, that Heidnik was legally insane and really did not understand the nature or quality of the crimes he committed at the time of the acts.

I was devastated by the outcome. I felt like a failure. My one great chance for professional and personal redemption had been crushed. I was exhausted from dragging around my own 40-pound box of emotional defects. I felt that I couldn’t go back to being a therapist and my estranged wife had hired an expensive lawyer to find the hidden treasures of my lost Dutchman’s mines. It was understood that I was not going to be paid for my trial work and I was broke. All I could do was go have a drink (or ten) to ease the sting of failure. As always, getting drunk didn’t work and I felt more depressed and down on myself.

My girlfriend Joanne helped by inviting me to move in with her that summer. We were in love, but our new life was far from easy. Joanne was raising her daughter and son and neither one liked me. I could understand. I was an intruder who was sleeping with their mom. But on a deeper level, I didn’t like myself much either.

Then I had a brainstorm. I’ll write a Heidnik book! Though we had failed at the trial, Heidnik was very happy with my efforts on his behalf. Wouldn’t he be happy to cooperate? Plus I could set the record straight and prove that we were right about Heidnik’s insanity. I might even change how the world looks at serial killers and return my bank account to a positive balance. I could be a crusader for justice and write a best seller at the same time, right!?

Wrong. In August 1988, I wrote to Heidnik about my idea for a book. He refused. By this time, Heidnik was incarcerated on Death Row at the State Correctional Institution at Pittsburgh. Unlike the polite Gary Heidnik during the trial, I would soon learn that post-trial Heidnik was an annoying, manipulative pain-in-the-ass. He had nothing but time on Death Row and liked to play games. My style is to be direct. I like to speak my mind and have others do the same. But now I had to play Heidnik’s game by his rules. Our match was about to begin: Crazy, manipulative Heidnik in one corner and half-crazy, impatient Jack in the other.

Chapter 3

Was Heidnik Truly Crazy? A Review of the Case

Before turning to my unholy alliance with Heidnik, it is important to summarize the case. The Heidnik letters contain a lifetime of names and events and it will be difficult to keep track of who’s who without some kind of summary of the people, places, and events.

The Power of Deviant Sexual Fantasies

The vast majority of serial killers who have pled not guilty by reason of insanity have, like Heidnik, lost in court. The rituals and compulsions of the sexual predator/serial killer often appear to indicate careful planning and logical thinking. Individuals like Heidnik appear so skilled and diabolical in their detailed planning and deception, that ordinary people cannot believe the killer is not sane and clearly in control of his actions.

The answer to this paradox is that the planning and premeditation are expressions of the powerful compulsions that drive the sexual predator/serial killer. Their obsessive sexual domination fantasies are often highly scripted, rehearsed to perfection, and repeatedly reinforced with masturbation and orgasm. Beginning in youth, fantasy life is an area where a social outcast can enjoy power, control, and pleasure. Fantasy, especially sexual fantasy, is a self-stimulating, self-reinforcing behavior that feeds itself and is strengthened in frequency and potency by the powerful reinforcement of orgasm.

There is no counter-balance to the narcissistic fantasy life of the isolated loner because he lacks support from family and friends and the pleasures and diversity of normal social activities, such as scouts, sports, music, and school groups. The sexual fantasies provide some semblance of self-pride and competence for someone who otherwise feels small, worthless, incompetent, and deformed. In his fantasy life, the sexual predator/serial killer imagines himself as all powerful, having control over people who fear and admire him. This reversal from self-disgust to self-grandiosity, even if momentary, combined with sexual pleasure, is an extremely powerful reinforcement of his deviant sexual fantasy life.

At the same time, the pursuit of power and control becomes a substitute for the natural human instinct for intimacy and bonding. When a child like Heidnik grows up with frequent or severe physical abuse, emotional humiliation, and parental rejection, he is deprived of experiences of closeness, safety, and bonding. His capacity to form relationships becomes impaired. Wary of rejection, shame, and punishment, such a child becomes increasingly anxious, withdrawn, avoidant, and guarded.

Gary Heidnik’s childhood is a classic example of this developmental pattern. His mother was a severe alcoholic and depressive, who was married five times and eventually committed suicide when he was 27. Heidnik’s father divorced his mother when he was two years old because of her volatile behavior. But Gary Heidnik and his little brother Terry remained in her custody for the next four years. Undoubtedly, her unpredictable emotional swings made a poor environment for a child to learn intimacy or how to reliably read and respond to social cues.

Subsequently, at the age of 6, Heidnik’s father and new stepmother took over responsibility for raising the brothers. Gary described his father as a strict disciplinarian, but denied any physical abuse. In particular, he denied his brother’s claim that their father hit Gary on the head with a board and hung him out of his third floor bedroom window by his feet. Gary was a lifelong bed-wetter and his father would display his son’s bed-sheets to shame him into learning bladder control. He struggled in school, failed second grade, and was about to fail for a second time when his father intervened. Gary credits his father with rigorous tutoring that forced him to learn. Though he continued to struggle in school, he learned to compensate by studying many extra hours. He developed a genuine liking for reading and it filled the void of his isolation and loneliness. According to Terry Heidnik, the other kids made fun of Gary’s odd-shaped skull and called him football head. Gary felt alien and disconnected from people and peers, baffled by ordinary social interactions, and increasingly avoided relationships. His hours of solitude contributed to the development of an intense fantasy life. He