In Gainesville 9,317 possible witnesses were questioned, over 5,000 leads were followed and about 3,000 possible suspects were pursued.
A task force of 466 officers and specialists united to pursue the investigation.
On Thursday, January 24, 1991, reporters barraged John Joyce of the FDLE with questions. They somehow got word about a Louisiana man who reportedly attempted to kill his father, a police lieutenant. Joyce stated that he could not possibly discuss any aspect of an ongoing investigation.
The next day, the new suspect was identified as thirty-six-year-old Danny Harold Rolling.
The media were quick to reveal what facts they uncovered about Rolling. He was arrested in Ocala on charges of armed robbery of a Winn-Dixie supermarket. There were strong indications of his being tied to a triple slaying in his hometown of Shreveport, Louisiana, committed in November 1989.
Although this curious individual was not charged with the murders in Louisiana, the Florida law authorities saw overwhelming similarities between the two sets of murders. Julie Grissom, twenty-four, one of the victims, a student at LSU, was found with her nude body sexually posed after her stabbing death, similar to the victim in Gainesville.
Danny Rolling was not charged in Shreveport, but the case was still open and strong leads indicated him as the prime suspect.
The Gainesville investigation found that Danny Rolling was registered in a Gainesville motel in August 1990. He later camped out in the woods not far from the living quarters of the campus murder victims. At the camp site the police found numerous items that tied Rolling positively to the murders. Among them was a screwdriver that they believed he used to break into the apartments; they also found a pubic hair that was matched to Christa Hoyt.
On the first day of March 1992, Danny Rolling, wearing a ski mask, robbed a Gainesville bank. Unknown to him, the money contained a concealed dry pack that exploded dye on him. He was swiftly arrested and charged.
Chief Wayland Clifton Jr. said, “I never met anyone like this man Rolling. When I saw him, I could not believe that this individual was what we determined. He just did not look like a cunning murderer. In our interrogations Rolling would not talk directly to our investigators. He would not even look at us. Instead, in response to questions, he turned and gave his answers to his fellow prisoner Bobby Lewis, who relayed whatever this accused killer wanted to be his answer.”
Clifton stated that this procedure was strictly unusual.
On May 21, 1992, a Gainesville hearing before Judge Maurice Paul on the bank-robbing charges revealed Danny Rolling’s criminal past, which included repeated arrests for armed robberies in Louisiana, Georgia and Florida dating back to 1972.
He previously confessed that in May 1990 in his home state of Louisiana he got into a violent argument with his father, a former police lieutenant, over putting up the windows in a car as it began to rain. As the quarrel heated up, the senior Rolling fired shots into the air. Danny followed his father into his house, shouting, “Okay, old man, you want to shoot it out?” He shot his father in the face, then ran to a neighbor’s house, where at gunpoint he demanded money and fled.
Rolling’s record showed that he burglarized a home in Missouri and stole the identification of a deceased family member. He used that ID in several Florida cities, including Tallahassee, Sarasota, Gainesville and Tampa.
Detective LeGran Hewitt of the Alachua County Sheriff ’s Department, who had dug out Danny Rolling’s record, stated that the subject ran down a deputy while fleeing from a grocery story robbery in Tampa.
In his appearance before Judge Paul, Rolling told of his newfound devotion to the Lord. This fell on the unsympathetic ears of Judge Paul, a tough and distinguished jurist, who sentenced him to life in prison.
After long legal processes, Rolling was incarcerated in Florida State Prison.
Seated in his cell at the prison in Starke, Florida, in June 1992, Danny Rolling pleaded not guilty to the five student murders in Gainesville.
In September Circuit Judge Stan R. Morris set a trial date for Rolling of September 1, 1993, a year ahead. He was charged with five counts of first-degree murder, three counts of sexual battery and three counts of armed robbery.
In the following months both sides prepared for the court date. The media paid little attention to the upcoming trial, until one newspaper printed an exclusive story.
A reporter wrote of an interview he obtained with Bobby Lewis, a convicted murderer serving a life term. Lewis said he became a prison buddy of Danny Rolling’s, who confided in him that he killed a woman, her father, and her nephew in Shreveport. Rolling said he stalked the woman and bragged that he was never charged with those three murders.
Lewis said that Danny Rolling also admitted to him that he killed the five students in Gainesville as part of a vendetta against those who had abused him since his childhood, especially his father and his ex-wife. Rolling married at the age of twenty, but the union ended in divorce after three years. Lewis said the ex-wife would not let Danny see his daughter after the divorce, which embittered him.
Lewis said Rolling told him that he devised his plan while he was incarcerated at Mississippi State Prison serving a sentence for armed robberies. Rolling’s plan was to kill one person for each of the eight years that he spent behind bars.
Danny told Bobby Lewis all the gory details of the Gainesville murders.
Lewis said the killing rampage began on August 24 at 3:00
A.M
. when Danny Rolling, dressed in a black ninja suit and wearing a ski mask, pried open a door to apartment 113 and stood over Christina Powell, who was sleeping on a downstairs couch. He left Powell and tiptoed upstairs, where he stabbed and killed Sonja Larson. Returning downstairs, Rolling taped Christina’s hands and feet, cut off all her clothes and forced her to perform oral sex on him. At the conclusion he raped her and stabbed her in the back while uttering, “Take the pain.... Take the pain.”
Lewis said that Rolling then calmly walked into the apartment kitchen and ate an apple and a banana from the refrigerator.
Lewis stated that late the next day, August 25, Rolling went to Christa Hoyt’s duplex. He spied on her as she dried herself after stepping out of the shower. Later, he broke through a sliding door with a screwdriver and lay in wait, shocking Hoyt as she returned from a racquetball game about 10:00
P.M
.
Rolling subdued Christa, taped her mouth and hands, cut off her clothes, sexually fondled her, then gutted open her torso. He cut off her head and displayed it on a bookshelf. Finally he arranged her nude body in a sexual pose.
Rolling returned to his nearby campsite, where he discovered that his wallet was missing. He returned to Hoyt’s apartment, searching for it. Unsuccessful, he called 911 and reported his loss, using the name of Kennedy.
On August 27 Rolling assaulted Manuel Taboada at his Gatewood apartment. He stabbed Taboada repeatedly, but the young UF student, a strong former football star, fought back. They struggled until both fell to the floor, where Taboada bled to death.
Tracey Paules, Taboada’s friend and neighbor, in an adjacent apartment, heard the commotion and investigated only to see him collapsed from the stabbing. Terrified, she turned, ran back to her apartment and locked the door. But Rolling smashed it open and grabbed her. He duct-taped her mouth and hands, raped and stabbed her several times with a replica of a U.S. Marine Corps KA-BAR knife. He dragged her dead body to the hallway, where he wiped her face clean with a washcloth, then raped her a second time.
At the opening of Danny Rolling’s murder trial in Orange County, in a change of venue, on Tuesday, February 15, 1994, Public Defender Rick Parker stunned the assemblage with his announcement that his client, Danny Rolling, pleaded guilty to all counts of murder and all other charges as well.
Subsequently in a Gainesville court on Monday, March 7, 1994, the jury met again, this time to determine the sentence for Rolling.
Photographs of the murdered, mutilated and violated victims were shown to the jury in graphic detail, producing gasps of disbelief.
State Attorney Rod Smith described what the killer had done to his young victims and demanded the death penalty for the drifter, stating there was no other course of action that they could recommend.
On Thursday, March 24, the twelve-member jury deliberated five hours, voting unanimously for the death penalty.
In the final accounting, bringing Danny Rolling to justice cost the taxpayers of Florida in excess of $6 million.
Jim Larson told the Orange County investigators some of the effects of the tragedy. “Carla was so affected by Sonja’s death that she instigated a safety program. She bought a rottweiler dog for protection. She never drove without locking her car doors; she insisted on the installation of a home security system. She avoided strangers. No one took more safety precautions than Carla after the murders.
“Our wedding date was set when this happened and we decided to postpone it. But family members and friends insisted that Sonja would not want us to delay the wedding we planned for a long time.”
Tears rising in the corner of his eyes, Jim went on. “It was so soon after Sonja’s funeral, but some of her friends wanted her to share in the joy of our marriage, so a group of them came to the ceremony for her.”
The lawmen were silent, not knowing what to say. Larson continued his explanation. “So you see, gentlemen, why our whole family, especially Carla, was so supercautious.”
Weir answered, “We had no idea. Of course we knew about that case. But we didn’t make the connection.” Weir walked over to Jim Larson and extended his hand. “I want to express our sympathy to you.”
“Thank you,” Jim Larson said softly.
Deputy Woodard looked at Larson and thought,
I’m looking at Jim Larson, not as an officer of the law, but almost as a friend in my sympathy. I feel close to him.
Detective Weir turned to his partner. “I think we’re about done here, don’t you?”
Linnert nodded. “Yes, I think so.”
The lawmen knew that the investigation activity was already started at the Disney site and were anxious to get out there.
Weir explained, “We have to get going. But be assured, Mr. Larson, we’re giving this investigation top priority. We’ll get back to you with any developments.”
Larson nodded gratefully. “Thank you, Detectives, for whatever you can do. I’ll be waiting to hear from you.”
The lawmen left the Larson home. As they approached their parked cars, Weir remarked, “Holy jeez, I sure as hell never expected to hear anything like that!”
“Neither did I,” Linnert agreed. “I was just stunned when he told that story.”
Like any seasoned homicide investigators, the detectives each developed a certain level of cynicism and jaded emotions. But they were both shaken by what Jim Larson had told them. Certainly they were familiar with the case, but they hadn’t made the connection of Jim Larson to one of the victims.
“You never know what to expect,” Weir mused, shaking his head. “Maybe that explains why he seemed to be acting strange. I had a feeling he was hiding something.”
“Yeah, me too. Of course we always look at the spouse first in these kinds of cases.”
“True.” Weir paused, then added, “We’ll still have to check out his whereabouts today.”
“Right.”
The detectives got into their separate vehicles and drove off to the Disney World area. Deputy Woodard returned to his regular duties.
CHAPTER 3
Upon their arrival at the building site of the Centex Rooney project, Weir and Linnert were met by company workers and several of the sheriff’s department personnel.
With a small group of three or four sheriff’s members guiding them, they walked through the area, observing the terrain. They were dismayed by the vast overgrown surroundings, the roadways, the narrow almost hidden paths and the small lakes and ponds in the section. A massive search would be arduous through all that undeveloped wild property.
The search was already in progress with sheriff’s men and Centex Rooney employees swarming over the area, armed with flashlights. It was now early morning, dark and not conducive to their work, but the men were determined.
Cam Weir and John Linnert talked briefly, summarizing what they saw and learned.
“We have to assume that Carla Larson didn’t leave voluntarily. There’s the possibility she was snatched for ransom, but that doesn’t seem likely. The Larsons have good jobs, but they don’t seem to be rolling in dough. So what does that leave? I don’t like this. I have a really bad feeling about it. And the more time that passes, the more uneasy I get,” Weir said.
Linnert nodded. “I feel the same way. She’s been gone too long for it to be something simple. The search will go on all night, and it will be light in a few hours, so that will help. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”
After the investigation began, Deputy Tom Woodard returned to the Larson home. Beyond his official duty Tom Woodard was concerned for the man, his missing wife and his daughter.
The deputy was struck by the tragic case into which he was drawn. He thought,
How could something like this happen to a family more than once? What are the odds on that? They must be astronomical. The Larsons seem like such a nice family and certainly don’t deserve anything like this. But then, who does?
The Larson house was now the focus of the College Park neighborhood with coworkers, friends, nearby residents and acquaintances crowding into the home. All were concerned for Carla and Jim.
When the crowd thinned, Deputy Woodard took Jim Larson’s arm and suggested that he try to get some sleep. “You’ve got to be strong for Jessica.”
Long before the sun broke across Orlando, Cam Weir and John Linnert were headed to the Publix market in Kissimmee, the site of Carla’s last known whereabouts.
In the car traveling along the major highways toward the store, the two men noted the growth and development of the area.
“I haven’t been out this way in a while,” Linnert commented. “I can’t believe what’s happened here. And so fast. This used to be all orange groves and cow pastures. Now look at it.”
“Yeah,” Weir agreed. “At the rate it’s growing, the town of Kissimmee and the city of Orlando will just merge into one huge metropolis. Not many cattle ranches left out here anymore. Newcomers can’t believe that Kissimmee was once a ‘cow town,’ the cattle capital of Florida.”
“Well, the land became too valuable. There’s housing developments everywhere. But that’s not as bad as the rest, wall-to-wall motels and dozens of tourist attractions side by side. Hundreds of new businesses to support them. All of it as a result of one man’s dream and ambition—Walt Disney.”
Weir added, “Walt’s probably spinning in his grave. They’re just the kind of places he hated, the kind that spring up around his theme parks. He said that’s why he bought so much land here for protection—thousands of acres—and it still happened.”
“Plus all the crooks and scam artists that come with it,” Linnert grumbled.
“Well, look at it this way, John. It keeps us busy.”
When they arrived at the Publix market, they carefully examined the area around the building, the large parking lot and its busy surrounds. At the conclusion they drove back to the Centex Rooney building sites.
Cameron Weir, now designated the command officer in charge of the investigation (he and Linnert shared that position equally, changing every Friday), called the OCSD people together.
“Fellows, we have a major job here,” he stated. “What we have to do first is go over everything that we know.” He ticked off on his fingers. “We know our missing person Carla Larson drove off from work in her white Ford Explorer. We know that it was just minutes after noon. We know she went to the Publix market. We also know that a vehicle similar to hers was seen later that afternoon driven by a man. What we don’t know at this time is what happened to her after she left the store. And we don’t know where Carla Larson is now. That’s the big question facing us. That’s the big question we have to answer. And time is not on our side.”
Linnert told the group, “So far we have a helicopter searching the area and we’re sending in special K-9s as well as cadaver dogs. We’re also setting up ground unit specialists and more search parties to comb all of this area, which will be pretty hard going. You can see how thick the scrub is all through here. The search began just north of the Osceola Parkway and I-4 intersection near the Publix market, which is where Mrs. Larson was last seen, and fans out. Okay, let’s get to it.”
Weir and Linnert had been told that Dora Landscaping worker Milton Johnson had some information that might be helpful to the investigation. The detectives met Johnson at the wooded area off Osceola Parkway.
“A group of us working out here yesterday stopped for lunch.” He referred to his watch. “It was just twelve-forty, I remember.” Johnson looked over at the parkway and turned toward I-4, fixing the location precisely into his account. “We frequently eat lunch by that little pond”—he pointed to a small body of water—“just east of the dirt path running into the woods.” Johnson explained how the path forked and then stretched out two ways, to the east and to the west. He stated that while they were eating their lunch, one of the fellows, Lavon Brown, pointed out a white Ford Explorer going past them. It went on toward a drainage canal at the far eastern end of the path.
Linnert asked, “Did you see the driver? Can you tell us what the driver looked like?”
“Hmmm. He had dark hair; he was a white man.”
“Was he alone?”
“I didn’t see anyone with him. It didn’t take him very long until he was speeding back in the other direction. I didn’t pay much attention to him. I just thought it was a Disney security vehicle.”
He said his supervisor, Barry O’Hearne, arrived with fellow employees David Maderano and Francisco Morales and they ate lunch together.
“Anything else?”
“Yeah, David Maderano and I started walking the path back to the Osceola Parkway, picking up discarded soft-drink cans, when the car came out of the woods from the west side of the fork traveling south toward us, traveling twenty to twenty-five miles per hour, which seemed fast for the driving conditions.”
Trying to provide an accurate picture, Milton Johnson explained, “I was on the east side of the path and Maderano was walking on the west when the vehicle raced between us, going like a bat out of hell. I turned my head and this car was right over by me and I got a better look at the driver. He was in his mid-thirties, medium build, maybe one seventy-five to one hundred eighty pounds. He had dark hair and a fuzzy mustache and he was wearing those aviator-style sunglasses.”
“That’s great,” Linnert encouraged.
“I can tell you something about that car. It was a Ford Explorer with gray trim around its bottom edge and it had lightly tinted windows and factory ‘mag’ wheels.” Shaking his head, Milton Johnson repeated, “The guy was driving the car too damn fast.”
“Mr. Johnson, we’re going to put you in touch with our department artist and you can give him the description of the driver so he can make a drawing. You’ve been very helpful,” Linnert stated.
The detectives interviewed David Maderano and Lavon Brown, who told the detectives that they had seen the white Ford Explorer, which they described with gray or silver trim around the bottom of the body. But they were not able to provide a physical description of the driver.
The two detectives interviewed David Gust, a building superintendent at Centex Rooney, also David Lewis and a number of other Centex Rooney employees, all who saw a man driving the Ford Explorer out of the woods that day around lunchtime.
Weir and Linnert also talked with Barry O’Hearne, project manager for the Dora Landscaping team. He told the officers that he saw the vehicle from approximately seventy feet away heading back to the main fork of the path. He estimated that it was traveling at thirty-five to forty miles an hour. O’Hearne caught a glimpse of the driver and described him as a white male with a mustache, wearing sunglasses, with dark hair pushed up.
In a discussion at the department crime scene office, the investigators decided that the original receipt that Carla Larson signed at the Publix market, rather than the copy they were given, could become a piece of evidence as the case expanded.
“Carl,” Weir told Sergeant Carl Head, one of the key members of the department’s crime scene unit, “we need to confirm that Carla Larson was at the Publix market and made some food purchases.”
Head, whose specialty is evidence, anticipated. “You want me to go to the Publix and get something for your file on this case.”
“Right. We’ve already got a copy of her credit card receipt, but we need the original. They have been most cooperative and I’m sure that they’ll help you.”
“No problem. I’m on my way.”
At the huge supermarket Head met with the assistant manager of the store and explained his mission.
“It would be helpful to the case if we could have the original receipt with Carla Larson’s signature on it for the evidence file.”
“Well, I’ll have to go back into our records and root it out. It may take some time, but I’ll do it now if you want to wait.”
“That would be fine.”
In short order the assistant manager produced the receipt and gave it to Detective Head.
Back at headquarters Carl called Detective Weir and told him that his trip was successful. Weir asked Head to deliver the receipt to Crime Scene Detective Ron Weyland, who added it to the growing evidence file.
Meanwhile, Detective David Callin went to the Home Depot building supplies store and met with one of the office personnel.
Callin asked to check the work schedule of James Larson on June 10. The records verified that Larson clocked in to work at 6:00
A.M.
and checked out at 3:03
P.M.
It was noted that he took a break at 9:41
A.M.
through 10:40
A.M.
Callin obtained a copy of the time sheet.
Later that afternoon, Detective Linnert conferred with Weir and reported his findings. “I checked the Visa Bank of America credit card and also the Discover card in the Larsons’ names. There was no new activity reported on either card. I had the accounts flagged and the companies will notify us of any subsequent use of either of the two credit cards.”
“That’s good. Callin got Larson’s work schedule for yesterday and it checks out. But I’d like him to take a lie detector test.”
“Do you think he will?”
“I don’t know. We’ll ask.”
Weir phoned Jim Larson and asked if he would take a lie detector test.
“Sure, any time,” he agreed.
“Good. I’ll set it up and get back to you.”
“Fine. I’ll wait to hear from you.”
Weir contacted polygraph examiner Richard Keifer and arranged for him to administer the test, then called Larson and asked him to come to headquarters, where it would be done.
At the conclusion of the examination, Richard Keifer advised Weir and Linnert that James Larson passed the examination, showing no signs of deception.
When the investigating detectives received the report, Weir told Linnert, “Keifer passed Larson with flying colors. He’s in the clear.”
“I’m glad.”
“Yeah, so am I. Poor guy’s had enough bad luck.”
Weir and Linnert continued their investigation with an interview with John Ricker, a Centex Rooney Company employee.
Ricker worked with Carla Larson for five years. Both were with the building company in Atlanta, where Centex Rooney had an assignment under construction, and both happily accepted the opportunity to move on with the company when the project at Walt Disney World in Orlando became a possibility. They moved in December 1995 and began work on the Coronado Springs Resort at Disney.
Weir asked Ricker, “Did Carla Larson have any problems when she worked with you, either here or in Atlanta?”
“No, none, not at all. Carla is one of the most dependable persons you’d ever meet. No, she had no problems; she is always very conscientious about everything, especially her work.”
“What do you remember about yesterday, whatever you can recall?”
“Well, like the other guys, we were all taking our lunch break. I was with Ray Walby and Freddie Kitchens. We all work together. We left the job in Ray’s company truck and drove east on Osceola Parkway. As we were driving, we saw Carla, who was also driving along the parkway, heading in the same direction. She was driving her white Ford Explorer. When she got to International Drive, she turned right, heading south toward 192. She was alone; no one with her,” he emphasized. “She gave us a big smile and waved as we passed.”
“Is there anything else that you can recall?” Linnert asked.
Ricker replied, “I sure as hell was shocked when I heard around six-thirty that she was missing. I was stunned. I had just come out of a meeting and returned to the office when I heard secretaries calling hospitals, looking for Carla.”
With a mournful expression on his face, John Ricker said that he learned from some of the other Centex Rooney people that Carla never returned from lunch. “Some of the guys went out and spoke to the Publix manager. Ray Walby and I went out to check the wooded area behind the market.”