![]() In the unlikely event that the state of Illinois ever paroled him, he would be transferred to Arkansas to serve a life term for murdering Ash. Smith waived extradition to Arkansas, and in March 1971, he appeared in the Baxter County Courthouse to answer for the murder of Ash. The prosecution couldn’t ask for the death penalty since a moratorium existed on capital punishment, but Smith pled guilty, and the courts imposed the harsh penalty of 200 years each for the murders of Bianchi and Lingenfelter and a minimum of 50 years for the Bolyard killing, with the sentences to run consecutively. ![]() McKenney as attorney for the suspect, but his lawyer didn’t have a chance to mount a credible defense for a plea of innocence because Smith confessed not only to the murders for which he was charged but to more slayings he committed in Germany in 1969. The McHenry, Ill., court had appointed Harold C. Lester obtained a warrant to collect hair samples from Smith to compare them against evidence retrieved during the Ash investigation. Arkansas State Police Detective Sergeant James D. Officials drew parallels between the Lingenfelter case and the other two in Illinois. ![]() A witness saw Lingenfelter get into his car shortly before she disappeared, so he became the chief suspect and was arrested. Both times, he led authorities to the bodies. In the cases of Bolyard and Lingenfelter, Smith joined in the searches for them after they were reported missing. The first stateside murder Smith carried out was the slaying of Obie Fay Ash in Arkansas, but that was followed quickly by the murders of three Illinois women: Jean Bianchi, Janice Bolyard and Jean Ann Lingenfelter. According to his own confessions, he officially became a serial killer while in Germany. Prone to starting barroom brawls, he was court-martialed again for fighting. He was also engaged in black market activities and was heavy into drug use, which intensified when he was stationed in Germany. Transferred to South Korea, he was court-martialed and spent three months in the stockade for fighting his fellow servicemen. He would never discuss his time in Vietnam with anyone. To paraphrase Lynn Hall, it could be that Smith didn’t change but became more clearly himself, the disturbed child turned soldier, his violent tendencies heightened by the war. ![]() When he returned home, his mother said that he had changed. In August 1966, Smith enlisted in the Army and was sent to Vietnam where he was a helicopter door gunner. Something that should have set off alarm bells was the discovery by his mother and stepfather of butcher knives that he had hidden under their mattress. He dropped out of high school during his sophomore year and got a job as a cook’s assistant. He was smart but bored and wouldn’t do his homework. They didn’t realize that the counseling hadn’t affected him at all. He wasn’t charged with a crime, but school and court officials mandated psychiatric counseling, and after a year of therapy, he had made enough progress to satisfy the psychiatrists that he would straighten out on his own. He inflicted more than 20 stab wounds on the boy before throwing the knife down on the ground and helping his victim get home. When he was about 9 years old, he attacked a younger playmate with a penknife. The little girl broke free, and the incident was never reported. Then one day in third grade, during lunch recess, Smith tried to strangle a classmate. He relished killing birds and other small animals. When his mother took the doctor’s advice, the nightmares stopped, but something else, something scarier, took hold of him. The matter became serious enough that his mother took him to see the family doctor, who suggested putting him in a public school. Whatever punishment they meted out caused Smith to wake up screaming in the middle of the night. He hated the nuns with their strict disciplinary code. Mary’s Catholic School, however, he began to have problems. Smith himself would later say he “had a pretty average childhood.” He was a Cub Scout and enjoyed fishing and other outdoor activities. His stepfather was distant and never had time for him, according to his mother. Mark Alan Smith was such a child.īorn in Illinois in 1949, Smith was still a baby when his parents divorced, and his mother remarried a short time later. It’s about 8-year-old Rhoda Penmark, who appears to be the perfect, precious little girl anybody would adore but is, in fact, a cold-blooded killer. Is there really such a thing as born bad or a born killer? The Bad Seed was first a novel, then a play, followed by a movie. READ MORE: The Path of a Psychopath, Part 2 READ MORE: The Path of a Psychopath, Part 1
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |