Killer's death day arrives

The women were lured to Beardslee's apartment by Rickie Soria because they owed William Forrester less than $200 for drugs. Beardslee's defense claims he unwittingly returned from work April 24, 1981 to find Soria, Rutherford and Forrester plotting how to exact revenge. Prosecutors counter he knew of the plan since the day before, even directing Soria to buy duct tape to bind the women.

The women were actually on their way to Great America with two other friends when Soria called asking for drugs, said George Ford, then 19.

Ford met Patty in 1979 after she and her husband picked him up hitchhiking. He moved in with the couple and helped them manufacture drugs, he said.

Ford drove himself, the women and another female friend to Soria and Beardslee's apartment in a van Stacy had borrowed. He knew Soria and didn't like her; he called Forrester "Carrot Top" because of his red hair. He thought Rutherford was "a nut." He had yet to meet Beardslee.

The women ran up to the apartment, leaving Ford and the other woman down below. At one point, Ford said he thought he heard a firecracker pop. He eventually went up to the apartment, but Soria told him the women were staying and drove them back to their motel near San Mateo's Coyote Point.

Later that night, they returned to the apartment and spotted the van still in the parking lot. Ford said he knew the women took about $180 in crank to Forrester without paying.

Soria told him the women had already left and Beardslee came outside the apartment, Ford said.

"I didn't like him. He was on one side and Ricki was on the other trying to block me. At the trial I heard they were going to get me if I were alone," Ford said.

Beardslee, he said, "seemed all right for a minute but after a few more he just gave me a bad feeling."

At that point, Ford said his female friend appeared and the couple left. After the bodies were found, Ford figured out that the firecracker sound had been the first shotgun blast into Geddling's shoulder.

The murders

Rutherford shot Geddling, by some accounts, as she lunged for the weapon. The wound was serious but not life-threatening. The women were bound by their captors and left in the bathtub for hours. Eventually, they told Geddling she would be taken to a hospital. Forrester and Beardslee helped her into the van Ford had driven earlier and drove past Sequoia Hospital, out to an isolated road near Bean Hollow State Beach.

Forrester shot her twice followed by two fatal shots by Beardslee, according to court transcripts.

During the trial and even today, Forrester maintains he did not want to fire the gun but feared Beardslee would kill him.

The assault blew away about one-third of her head, prosecutor Martin Murray said. Ford remembers only being able to identify her body in photos from the red tennis shoes she wore.

Upon returning around 3 a.m., Beardslee told Rutherford that Forrester "chickened out" and the drug dealer said the 19-year-old man should have been killed, too.

Beardslee then drove his car, carrying Soria, Rutherford and Benjamin, for hours up to Lake County. They even stopped at the home of Rutherford's brother to ask about the best place to dump a body. Finally, she was walked up a hill where Rutherford strangled her with a homemade garrote, a wire wrapped around two shotgun shell handles. When it broke, Beardslee punched her in the head and helped Rutherford pull the wire again. He asked Rutherford for his knife and slit her throat. The autopsy showed she was still alive when Beardslee pulled down her pants to mimic a rape.

A phone number found in Geddling's pocket led police to Beardslee. He took them to Benjamin's body and ultimately pointed the finger at the others.

Beardslee, a parolee and participant in both murders, was the only defendant sentenced to death. Forrester was acquitted, Soria is currently serving 15 years to life and Rutherford served a life sentence before dying in prison in 2002.

Charges were dropped against Edgar Geddling although authorities and even former acquaintances like Ford believe he at least knew something was planned against his estranged wife.

Beardslee's defense claims he, like Forrester, feared Rutherford's rage if he didn't participate. The prosecution said he was motivated by the possibility of returning to a Missouri prison for violating his parole by consorting with drug dealers and hold women hostage in the apartment.

Jurors heard about Beardslee's mental deficits but still returned a death verdict. Only recently is his defense asking for an MRI of his brain and three former jurors say they would have liked to have that information when deliberating his penalty.

Whether the governor offers Beardslee leniency based on the claims remains to be seen. He is expected to issue a written ruling today.

Seeking peace

Since his transfer to San Quentin, Beardslee has been a model inmate, according to a former warden now asking his life to be spared.

He writes similar four-paragraph letters weekly to his spiritual advisor, Peggy Harrell, and collects lunch bags to make care packages for fellow inmates. His record is exemplary and he is prone to working overtime at his prison jobs. He speaks in monotones - a symptom of his brain malfunction, according to a defense doctor - and has done little to attract attention to himself. He has not attacked prison guards or other inmates, as former prosecutor Carl Holm warned he might if he did not receive the ultimate punishment. Even his current prison mug shot shows a clean-cut man. Forrester and Ford both describe as looking like a computer nerd.

But, Beardslee also left a "trail of agony in his wake," Murray wrote to the governor.

He left Ivan and Renee Geddling motherless. They were only 5 and 4 years old when their mother died and have only a few vague memories.

He left Griffin's children without the joy of sharing parenthood firsts or the wisdom of a grandmother.

He left Benjamin's brother, Tom Amundson, feeling guilty he couldn't protect his baby sister despite being a Marine charged with protecting dignitaries.

He left Forrester, still living in the Bay Area and contemplating a book on the crimes, forever remembering what it felt like to choose between shooting and being shot. He never supported the death penalty, but said he now believes Beardslee deserves it.

Even Ford, who was not privy to the crimes themselves, was left with guilt and bad memories. He lived in constant fear Rutherford or Soria might be freed and find him. He wonders if he could have saved the women by pushing his way into the apartment. Every April for the last 20 years he had a breakdown, he said, and needs medication. He never thought Beardslee would live long enough to be executed, but hopes it will make this year's anniversary easier.

"It seems like it just happened yesterday. I can remember everything so vividly," Ford said. "I'm just hoping it helps. Maybe then I won't have to go through it every April."