A real-life "Phantom of the Opera"...
We have a violin and a bow,
and we don't know what happened to that violinist.
It was clear she was still somewhere in the building.
Thousands in the theater and only one witness...
"Oh, my God. Oh, my God. I saw that woman."
The crime that set all of New York City on edge...
I just literally fell to the floor.
Is this person going after me next?
A setting with an infinite number of suspects...
How do you begin interviewing 200 people?
Stagehands, security, set designers.
Even the security guards said,
"We don't know all of this place.
We'll take you as far as we can."
The case that brought the NYPD to its knees.
He takes out his hammer
and menaces her with the hammer.
She was a doorway away from the thousands of people
who could have saved her life.
You couldn't write that in a show.
No one would believe it.
♪
When I was a young police officer in 1980,
there was a case so bizarre and chilling
a musician vanishes mid-performance,
leaving behind all of her belongings and no trail.
It's a mystery that took place
in the most
the high-culture world of the Upper West Side,
a neighborhood known for the Museum of Natural History,
Central Park, and turn of the century grandeur.
This heinous crime begins
at the famed Metropolitan Opera House.
♪
In July of 1980,
the Berlin Ballet went to New York
to perform at the Metropolitan Opera House.
The Berlin Ballet was very, very popular,
and it was a sold-out performance,
so you had 4,004 people watching.
We were performing a mixed-repertoire evening,
and I was only in the first piece,
which was "The Firebird," and then they were having--
Valery and Galina Panov
were performing the "Don Quixote" pas de deux,
and after that was a ballet
that was done to recorded music.
At 9:30 p.m., the orchestra,
made up of local freelance musicians, takes a break.
During the recorded performances,
none of the musicians would be in the pit.
They'd be out, you know, maybe in the lounge
having coffee, maybe getting a snack.
They returned 45 minutes later, but as they settle in,
the musicians notice something strange.
One of the seats in the string section is empty.
In a high-profile orchestra at the Met,
you get people who don't miss their cues.
The missing violinist is 31-year-old Helen Mintiks,
a talented, well-liked, and responsible musician.
It would have been very alarming for the conductor
and for anybody in the orchestra
who could see that empty chair.
That must have sent chills down a lot of spines.
Maybe she got sick.
Maybe she fell down, broke an ankle.
Maybe she got a phone call from a sick relative,
but the show must go on.
They just played the last ballet without her.
After the curtain calls,
the orchestra start packing up and leaving...
And she didn't come for her violin.
We have a violin and a bow,
and we don't know what happened to that violinist.
♪
As the audience, ballet company,
and orchestra head home,
a few of Helen's concerned co-performers
stick around to look for her.
They call the apartment she shares with her husband
and hope she simply went home.
No one answers.
♪
Now it's getting close to midnight,
and the assistant house manager at the time
initiated the call to the police.
I recall receiving a call
from one of the detectives in the squad.
He said, you know, "You better get down there."
The emphasis is, it was the Metropolitan Opera House.
Therefore, everything, you know, started to get hot.
When I got there, I got teamed up with Jerry Giorgio.
Jerry was in the task force. I had never worked with him.
The detectives immediately began speaking
with musicians still at the opera house,
trying to get a sense of the missing violinist.
She was from a humble background.
Helen was from British Columbia,
from a town of maybe 300 people, Aldergrove,
and her parents, they had a poultry farm.
She started in music quite young.
She was obviously talented, and she told me that her father
used to drive her 40 miles in a truck
to take violin lessons in Vancouver.
We met in 1969 at Juilliard,
and she was friendly.
She talked to everyone.
She was constantly making cheesecakes for her friends,
and she was fun,
world-class giggler, as I am,
and if we started to giggle, there was no stopping.
But I also saw the serious side of her.
She was hooked on music,
and that was going to be her life.
♪
Helen Mintiks was a professional
at the apex of her career.
She wouldn't risk everything she had worked for,
much less leave behind a $20,000 violin.
Then they checked her locker...
And her street clothes were in her locker,
which meant she never got out of her orchestra clothes.
It was clear she was still somewhere in the building.
Helen could be injured, lost, or trapped.
The NYPD needs to work fast to locate her,
but it's not an easy endeavor.
If you're standing in the street
and you look at the opera house,
it looks like a two or three-story building,
and it doesn't look that wide,
but once you get inside, it's like a city.
They were warned by some of the stagehands,
"Do not go anywhere by yourself because you can open a door,
"go someplace, realize you've made a wrong turn,
and find yourself locked in."
As search teams begin scouring the monstrous maze
that is the Met,
Detective Giorgio heads a few blocks north to 75th Street
where Helen lives with her husband, Janis Mintiks.
Janis told them earlier that night,
he'd actually been at the Met, waiting to walk Helen home.
Helen's husband was waiting for her
outside of the stage door.
If she had a job, as she did that night
at the Berlin Ballet, he would always pick her up.
Janis called the apartment, got a busy signal,
and that was a relief to him
'cause he thought that Helen had gone home some other way.
It turned out that the busy signal occurred
because others in the Met
were calling her apartment to see if she was there,
and when he got home and she wasn't there,
that's when it dawned on him
that something was really wrong.
♪
And then, as the sun was rising,
a possible discovery.
It was on the roof of the opera house.
I believe it was one of the engineers
located a pair of shoes.
They are clearly women's shoes,
possibly those of Helen Mintiks.
Logically, if you find the shoes, this is something.
Officers rush to the large and sprawling roof.
It's vast. You have a couple of levels.
You got to start looking a little more precise
in all areas of the roof.
And then an officer peers down a narrow opening
that leads to an air shaft.
NYPD has seen it all, but what that officer saw down below
would shock even the most hardened of cops.
Coming up...
We knew that the person who did this
was very familiar with the opera house.
We learned that he came to work with some scratches
on his face, and he shaved his head.
It was likely that this was an inside job.
♪
While performing at the Met,
31-year-old violinist Helen Mintiks
took a break for intermission and never returned.
NYPD searched through the night,
and as the Sun was rising,
an officer on the roof peered into a narrow air shaft
Helen Mintiks lay face-up and ma on a crossbeam,scovery.
three stories down.
The victim fell somewhere between 30 and 45 feet.
They went down three stories to a door
that would lead out to the place where she was.
She was bound, gagged, and blindfolded,
and obviously she was dead.
Detectives now have a homicide on their hands
and the challenging job
of breaking the news to Helen's husband.
Now, they spoke to Janis,
and he was distraught beyond description.
As crime-scene investigators begin processing the area,
medical examiner Elliot Gross arrives.
He did quite an extensive examination,
physical examination of her body.
There could have been an indication of a sexual assault
based on the fact that the clothes were all cut off her,
but without the autopsy report, you know, you just don't know.
Her purse and dress,
which are found lying next to her,
are bagged for processing,
and then CSI zeroes in
on a potentially game-changing piece of evidence.
They found a palm print very close to where
the body was perceived to have been thrown off.
This is on a big pipe, maybe 2 feet in diameter.
So right away in my mind,
I'm thinking that somebody could have been up there
eating a ham sandwich the day before.
So the palm print, of course,
was this mysterious piece of evidence
that may or may not have meant anything at that point.
♪
By late morning, news of the murder
spread through the city like wildfire.
Suddenly every newspaper
"Phantom of the Opera."
♪
I opened my front door and picked up
my "New York Times,"
and I looked at the headline,
and I just literally fell to the floor.
She was a wonderful, wonderful, kind human being
and something that senseless
was just something I just couldn't accept.
Detectives immediately sit down
with Helen's husband, Janis.
In all homicides, you always consider the spouse.
My questions to her husband, you know, just basic things
to help eliminate him or to see based on her character,
you know, why would somebody want to kill her?
Well, you know, whether there was a jilted lover
or a third party.
They had to ask, "Did she have an affair?"
Of course, she didn't have another man in her life.
She just absolutely adored her husband.
Janis and Helen, they were just gonna be together forever.
They met at some kind of summer place
where artists went in Canada.
He was a sculptor,
and it was pretty much love at first sight.
I remember that she wanted him to come to New York
and spend Christmas with her, and he said,
"I don't have the money. I can't do it."
And so she sent him the money, and she said,
"You have to come,"
and from then on, it was just--
they were just inseparable.
His grief was genuine,
and he just didn't fit at that point.
For her husband living several blocks away
to infiltrate the building and snatch her,
then throw her off, it didn't make any sense.
Why would the husband kill his wife,
a violinist, at the opera house?
He'd have 200 other places
where he can kill her and get away with it.
So we kind of moved off him pretty quickly.
With Janis ruled out, detectives begin
the arduous task of compiling a suspect list.
There are thousands of people in the audience,
hundreds of people backstage,
plus who could have just walked in through the stage door.
It could have been a wino wandering in off the street.
So, you know, as quick as we could,
we tried to organize how we were gonna proceed.
We pretty much set up our on-site headquarters.
In an operation like this, you really have to come in
and establish a command center.
You need a home base because you're going to have to talk
to every person who was in the building that night.
♪
Later that day,
as the dancers prepare for the evening's performance,
detectives probe for leads.
The detectives were backstage
showing pictures of Helen Mintiks to everyone.
"Have you seen this woman? Did you see her last night?"
I sort of glanced at it and said no.
But then that evening,
they were doing a ballet of Dostoevsky's "The Idiot,"
and I had a part I loved in a gypsy dance,
this wild dance onstage.
My partner was very tall and strong,
and he had me almost upside down.
At that moment is when it clicked in my mind.
"Oh, my God. Oh, my God. I saw that woman."
♪
In July of 1980, NYPD found the bound
and mangled body of violinist Helen Mintiks
police get their first lead.
♪
I went and found a detective and told him
that I had seen her the night before.
During the recorded music ballet,
I was waiting for an elevator
that was near the stage...
And there was this woman and a man, and they came,
and they started waiting for the elevator, too,
and then she spoke to me, and that was Helen.
She said Helen was interested in finding Valery Panov,
the Russian dancer who was performing that night.
She asked, "Oh, what floor do I need to go to
for Mr. Panov, for his dressing room?"
And the man who had gotten on said, "Fourth floor."
♪
The elevator went down to the basement first...
And I got off the elevator, and they went on.
We knew that the person who did this murder
was very familiar with the opera house.
Either had to be an employee
or another musician or dancer, whatever.
♪
Detective Giorgio and Detective Struk
went to Panov,
and they spoke to him. He told them,
"I don't know her. I had no contact with her."
Police question if Panov is telling the truth
about never meeting Helen,
but first, they need to find out
why she would have sought him out.
They spoke to a woman named Alice,
a friend of hers from the opera,
and Helen told Alice that she was interested
in finding Valery Panov, and the reason for that desire
was to perhaps interest him in working with Helen's husband.
She was gonna try to get her husband a job
doing some kind of odd work or set design or something
and thought that maybe Panov could aid her in that.
She did not go through any sort of channels
to make an appointment.
She was just gonna kind of pop in and maybe charm him
and maybe bring him a piece of cheesecake,
or who knows what she had up her sleeve.
Panov's insistence that he never saw her
seems credible,
but when detectives dig deeper into his background,
their findings raise suspicion.
Panov was a Russian defector.
He had come to the United States 6 years earlier.
They learned that Panov had quite a complicated history
that involved being in prison in Russia
and followed by the KGB,
so that's something that needs to be looked into further.
If it turned out that he was the killer,
that would have international consequences.
What we have here was a very serious crime
that was committed in high society
at the Metropolitan Opera House,
which, of course, is famous throughout the entire world.
It became a very, very big press case.
The tabloids kept coming out with these stories like,
somebody saw Helen get into a taxi
with some strange man,
and somebody else saw a strange-looking guy
walking into the Met that night.
There were all these stories.
I'm ashamed to admit it,
but I was afraid for myself, too.
I was avoiding the windows of my apartment
and afraid to go out,
but I was also in heavy grieving.
I mean, I was in a-- something resembling a coma.
And Janis was just destroyed.
I mean, he got what little strength he had from a bottle.
He just didn't want to live anymore.
He wanted to be with Helen.
♪
The medical examiner got the autopsy
back to us pretty quick.
Helen's naked body had detectives theorizing
she had been the victim of sexual assault.
But the results of the autopsy show otherwise.
There was no evidence of as you'd find from a rape kit,
and there was no semen found.
Nonetheless, it is clear
that Helen suffered a horrific death.
I asked the medical examiner, "Was she alive when she fell?"
And he explained that the blood in the brain plus other factors
showed that she was breathing when she was propelled
and that she was alive when she hit the steel plate.
And based upon the stomach content,
they estimated she died between 9:30 and 11:00 p.m.
Armed with this new info,
detectives look into Panov's whereabouts
during that time frame.
They had several witnesses who reported
that his wife was dancing at the precise time
that Helen was missing.
He was in the audience watching her entire performance.
♪
In the NYPD, we feel the need for justice
for the family and loved ones.
When we hit dead ends, we don't stop.
We go back over and over again until something appears.
Detectives revisit ballerina Laura Cutler's elevator story
and discover a telling new detail.
Helen was looking for Panov's dressing room.
The man in the elevator immediately responded
and said, "Four."
Now, it turns out that's significant
because the stars' dressing rooms are on stage level.
For detectives, it's a chilling revelation.
It means that the man in the elevator was mistaken
or he purposely sent Helen to the wrong floor.
This guy we had to find.
He was number one at that point.
♪
In July of 1980,
detectives are under immense pressure
to find the killer of violinist Helen Mintiks.
When ballerina Laura Cutler
tells police she rode in an elevator with Helen
and a mystery man just before she had gone missing,
it becomes imperative they find him.
♪
We brought Laura to the department artist,
of course, and we did a composite drawing.
She described flyaway hair, said he was short,
had a New York accent.
Well, that's no surprise there.
One part of Laura's description piques
the detectives' interest.
He was wearing sort of workman clothes.
Stagehands are the people who would be dressed like that.
♪
And when experts examine the knots
that had bound Helen's hands, it furthers this lead.
There was evidence in the ties that bound her
because they were tied with a clove hitch,
and that's a particular knot used by stagehands regularly.
So now you have to go to the supervisors,
and you say, "Who worked that night?"
There's an awful lot of people that make up a show.
There had to be at least 200 people
working that night as stagehands.
So we created
name, rank, serial number, how tall, how old,
date of birth, and their assignments.
And we gave a specific time
from 9:00 to 11:00,
"What were you doing?"
And at that point, someone said, "Well, hey,
"if they're coming in, let's do their palms
"because we've got this mystery, unknown palm print
from on the upper roof where she was thrown from."
♪
Stagehands are brought into the makeshift precinct
two at a time.
We'd say, "Look.
"You know, we're only asking you the truth,
"and if you didn't have anything to do
"with this lady's demise,
why not fill it out?"
You refuse to fill it out and whatnot, of course
we're gonna look at you in a different way.
Detectives are also looking to see
if any bear a resemblance to Laura Cutler's sketch.
Worker after worker comes in, but there's no obvious match.
♪
But then detectives hear rumblings
about one of the stagehands.
We have many detectives going out, doing interviews,
seeing things, hearing things, little gossip, whatever,
and they're coming in, and they're pitching it to you.
Word is, this guy Vincent showed up to work
the day after the murder with a shaved head.
So that struck the police as different
because one of the things they look for
is whether anybody sought to change physical appearance.
But that wasn't the only thing
about his appearance that caused people to talk.
They said he had scratches on his face.
Certainly we've got to take a good look at this guy.
One of the first things we look for
in a suspect are defensive wounds.
Victims often attempt to fight off their attacker,
so if you see any kind of scratches, bruises,
that's a red flag and needs to be looked at closer.
So they asked him about it,
and his story was that that night, he went home,
and he and his wife got into a violent argument...
And she scratched him,
and he said that he shaved his head in revenge to her
because she thought his hair
was the most attractive part of his body.
They need to verify Vincent's whereabouts
on the night of Helen's murder.
Getting answers, however, is tricky.
The police learned it was sort of a subculture
of stagehands protecting their own.
To get them to cooperate with us,
to trust us, is not easy.
They were union jobs,
and people really stuck together.
Nepotism, it reigns very high
at the Metropolitan Opera House,
so, you know, you always have, you know,
somebody gonna be looking after your back.
Despite their strong support system,
there's one thing they won't tolerate.
The stagehands' culture is that
there's one thing they never do,
and that is miss cues.
And the reason that's so seriously taken is,
if they miss a cue,
moving a piece or setting the stage
could fail.
So as loose as they were about drinking and other things,
missing a cue was a taboo.
And when investigators speak with the superiors,
they verify he was working
during the time frame in question.
And Vincent did not miss any cues that night.
His whereabouts were accounted for.
♪
Three weeks in and another dead end.
This was a very high-profile case,
and Mike and Jerry knew that they would be out on a limb
if they didn't find out who did it.
- Coming up... - He was acting
so strangely during the process,
they thought he was hyperventilating at one point.
We basically told him, you know, "If you want to be
"an accomplice to a murder,
"then go right ahead.
Jump right in with both feet."
He takes out his hammer
and menaces her with the hammer.
♪
Three weeks have passed since the brutal murder
of violinist Helen Mintiks
during a performance at the Metropolitan Opera House.
With the killer still on the loose,
her loved ones struggle to find closure.
We had no idea when the body would ever be released,
so we couldn't just go ahead and plan a funeral,
but we said, "Let's plan some kind of a memorial."
Somehow I was elected to give the eulogy.
Janis was incapable of uttering a word.
The fact that he was able to get there was amazing.
I was very afraid.
I would say I was nervous about giving the eulogy,
but I was more nervous
about where the killer was and who he was.
Unbeknownst to her friends,
detectives have narrowed their suspect list.
They believe the culprit is a stagehand
and are in the process of collecting photographs,
questionnaires, and palm prints
from each one of these workers.
During that processing period,
there was one stagehand
who was acting so strangely,
they thought he was hyperventilating at one point.
The stagehand is 21-year-old Craig Crimmins,
and though he agrees to give his prints,
his behavior calls for further investigation.
The palm-print technician noticed
Crimmins was very, very nervous
and made a mark on his card.
At the conclusion of the day,
he did a comparison for what was found on the roof.
The palm print came back as indicating
it was Craig Crimmins,
and that set off a bell
which drew the police attention squarely on him.
Detectives take a look at Crimmins' file,
and his photo raises more suspicion.
Laura Cutler's description of who was
on the elevator matched him.
Crimmins did resemble that sketch.
Detectives Mike Struk and Jerry Giorgio
immediately begin asking around about him.
We then learned that he had not made cues
and that he was missing and they were looking for him.
Though his coworkers can't vouch for his whereabouts
that fateful night,
they insist he's a good kid.
His stagehand friends said, "Oh, you know,
he's a sweet guy.
He couldn't possibly have done it."
As the investigator, you are the voice of the victim.
You owe it to the victim to do your absolute best
to bring the person responsible for their demise to justice.
Now, on the other hand, you have a suspect,
you just can't conclude and say, "Oh,
"so we have a palm print. We have a guy who's nervous.
Yep, that's him. Let's go to court with this."
It doesn't work that way.
Corroboration. You got to have more.
♪
And when detectives speak with a coworker
who had been with Crimmins the day of the murder,
they learned why he missed his cues.
His friend said, "Yeah, that's true.
"He did miss cues.
"He was in the electrician's lounge.
I saw him there, sleeping."
We knew he was lying.
So they asked him,
"Would you make that statement under oath?"
We basically told him, "If you want to be
"an accomplice to a murder, then jump right in
with both feet if this is what you want to do."
He then owned up, and he told how he was asked by Crimmins
to say that he was in a certain location where he wasn't.
Armed with this incriminating statement,
Detectives Struk and Giorgio sat down with Craig Crimmins.
And Crimmins, not knowing what had just happened,
tried to give the same false excuses.
That's when Detective Jerry Giorgio informed him
that his coworker had ratted him out.
And that's the point Crimmins said,
"I'd like to speak to Jerry alone."
And he said, "There's something I didn't tell you."
And he said, "What is it?" And he says,
"I'm the guy who was on the elevator with that woman."
♪
But according to Crimmins, that was the extent
of his involvement with Helen Mintiks.
But, you know, she got off on one floor,
and he got off on another floor.
He left her and then
went down to A level and drank beer there.
Crimmins insists it was then he passed out
in the electrician's lounge.
He also justifies his palm print on the roof.
He said that they would go up there sunbathing.
♪
At that point, on the 16th,
we then brought Heffernan in that night.
That's when we had the all-night session
as to whether to arrest him or not.
Prosecutor Charles Heffernan knows
the city wants someone in cuffs,
but if they push this case forward
without enough evidence, it could fall apart in court.
It would be still a circumstantial case,
and the goal is to build your best case possible.
♪
At 8:00 a.m. on the morning of August 17th,
Crimmins walks out of the Met a free man.
We didn't want to let Mr. Crimmins think
that we were really onto him and looking at him that early
because we didn't want him to flee,
so we kind of worked as much on the periphery
as we could to dismantle any alibi
as to where he said he was that night.
The investigation of Crimmins is heating up.
Alibis he's provided to the detectives
aren't checking out,
but they won't stop until the case is airtight.
But then something happens.
Because of the media frenzy, a leak.
We received a tip that the "Daily News"
was going to release an edition
called the Bulldog Edition at 7:00 that night,
simultaneous with a radio broadcast
in which they name the key suspect.
And the minute that happened, Craig or his family
would immediately hire a lawyer,
and Craig would know he was tops of the pops.
NYPD detectives tell the papers to stand down.
There's not enough evidence to say, "This is our guy,"
and they're gonna blow it if they go to print.
And they said, "We'd be willing to,
"but we can't because it's already gone to press.
We can't stop it."
At that point, it was thought,
"Hey, we got to jump now."
♪
NYPD detectives were covertly gathering evidence
to secure a conviction of stagehand Craig Crimmins
for the murder of Helen Mintiks
when they learn that the press
was about to name him as the lead suspect.
The minute that occurred, whether he would flee or not,
he certainly was gonna get a lawyer.
Detective Giorgio went up to Crimmins' apartment.
This is almost something that you'd see in a novel.
At about ten minutes to 7:00,
ten minutes before the broadcast went,
Crimmins comes out of the building,
and Giorgio sees him, and they had a good rapport.
Giorgio said, "Craig, you mind coming down?
"We have some other questions to ask you.
It won't take long." And he agreed.
With a case as big as this one,
our detectives knew they'd already have plenty of journos
swarming the precinct.
If our guy got a whiff of this, he'd know what was up,
so we had to be one step ahead, and our guys were.
Instead of bringing Craig to our home base
at the 2-0 Precinct, we took him
to the 13th Precinct and avoided the press.
And I then met up with Jerry later on,
and we started the interview.
He started to tell them things
that they knew were untrue,
and after he saw
that his excuses were not being accepted,
he again said,
"Jerry, can I talk to you alone?"
We knew we were close
and, you know, this was our last shot.
Jerry Giorgio,
he was brilliant at getting confessions.
He said, "Most people,
"unless they're sociopaths or psychopaths,
"want to confess,
and all you have to do is give them a chance."
And Crimmins said,
"There's something I want to tell you."
He said, "What's that?"
He said, "About that lady,
I killed her."
♪
I remember Jerry Giorgio coming out and going like this.
Home run, right?
So Heffernan was brought in,
and then the formal videotape confession was then done.
I went down to the locker room
and drank some beers.
And on the way down there, I met that lady.
According to the defendant's confession,
during that elevator ride,
Crimmins apparently made a pass at her.
And she reacted by slapping him,
and he became enraged.
He takes out his hammer and menaces her
with the hammer.
And then for a long time
walked her around, upstairs, downstairs,
and then suddenly couldn't figure out an exit ramp.
"How do I get out of this?"
So he has her captive, and she knows it,
and when they reached C level, she ran for a door
and tried to get it open.
Then there was a struggle.
He tried to, you know,
have sex with her at that point,
and I don't think he was able to accomplish that.
He then took her all the way up to the roof
and laid her in one place.
"She was talking to me trying to be nice.
"I decided to gag her
"and laid her flat on her stomach.
"I know I gagged her,
and I think I put one around her eyes."
He said to her that he would call
when he got away from the building
and let them know where she was.
"I decided to leave.
"As I was walking away,
"I heard her bouncing up and down,
and that's when it happened.
I went back and picked her up."
♪
With a full confession in hand,
NYPD arrest Craig Crimmins
for the murder of Helen Mintiks.
This case particularly has remained memorable.
For one reason, the venue where it happened,
and the fact that the victim was a member of the orchestra
who was abducted mid-opera
and not found until 12 hours later.
The complexity of where her body was found,
the amount of people
that we had to entertain as possible suspects--
we all worked real long hours.
It was a lot of sleep deprivation.
So it's a good feeling when you tell the family.
At least it gave them some closure.
They're never gonna forget it all,
but at least some part of it is behind them.
One year later, in September of 1981,
Craig Crimmins is convicted of felony murder.
He was sentenced to a term from 20 years to life.
He's been denied parole 11 times.
It was definitely a relief
to know that he's not out there
and that he can't do it to somebody else,
but there is never closure for this kind of thing.
♪
Janis died a few years ago.
I doubt that he could ever possibly get over
that traumatic event.
I remember very, very clearly her sound.
You know, I can call it to mind,
and I can hear her playing.
♪
I know that it's always going to be a real hole in my heart
that's never going to heal.