The Murder of Betsy Faria: Part One
Sources:
https://allthatsinteresting.com/pam-hupp
https://time.com/6156033/the-thing-about-pam-renee-zellweger-true-story/
https://www.stlmag.com/longform/pam-hupp/
https://www.stlmag.com/news/defense-attorney-joel-schwartz-charles-bosworth-new-book-bone-deep-true-crime-betsy-faria-pam-hupp/
https://people.com/pam-hupp-charge-refiled-betsy-faria-stabbing-death-8384298
https://www.ksdk.com/article/news/crime/pam-hupp-may-not-be-tried-for-betsy-farias-murder-until-2028/63-fc0923af-96e0-409a-84d3-bc585dba3ef3
https://fox2now.com/news/fox-files/pam-hupp-trial-delayed-but-unexpected-encounter-outside-highlights-day/
https://insurancenewsnet.com/oarticle/Russell-Farias-wife-was-stabbed-55-times-but-was-he-the-killer-a-471968
https://www.rollingstone.com/culture/culture-news/pamela-hupp-murder-betsy-faria-dateline-podcast-1196738/
https://crimereads.com/the-bizarre-self-incriminating-confession-of-pam-hupp/
https://rsflawfirm.com/Firm-News/Russell-Faria-Acquitted-Of-Wife-s-Murder/
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Zevon Odelberg is a true crime podcast host and...
Speaker 1: Warning, Kind of Murdery contains adult themes, explicit language, and
Speaker 1: descriptions of violence. It is not suitable for anyone, and
Speaker 1: we recommend you stop listening.
Speaker 2: Now True crime with a dash of the paranormal, the garish,
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Speaker 2: more than just murder. It's my very own pocket dimension,
Speaker 2: home to a curated collection of bizarre and compelling stories,
Speaker 2: the unsolved, the unsettling, and the unbelievable. I cover it
Speaker 2: all just so long as it's kind of Murdery. Thank
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Speaker 3: You know, we are living in wild times, wild times indeed,
Speaker 3: but wild times require focus and they require more of
Speaker 3: your time. And that means that I am so thankful
Speaker 3: that you choose to spend your time with me. I
Speaker 3: am Zevan Odleberg. And this is kind of and I've
Speaker 3: got quite a murder story here for you today. So
Speaker 3: without further ado, let's get right down to it. Part
Speaker 3: one of Kind of Murdery's examination of the murder of
Speaker 3: Betsy Faria starts now. Betsy Foraria lived in Troy, Missouri.
Speaker 3: These days, the population of Troy is about fourteen thousand
Speaker 3: people still the kind of place where everyone knows your
Speaker 3: name if you've been there long enough. She worked, she
Speaker 3: kept in touch with her family and stayed connected to
Speaker 3: the people around her. Her sister Julie Swainey, said that
Speaker 3: Betsy wasn't the type to take over a conversation. She
Speaker 3: would ask questions, let the other person talk, and stay
Speaker 3: focused on them instead of herself. That's how Julie described her.
Speaker 3: Betsy was someone who listened first and didn't need attention
Speaker 3: to feel comfortable. Betsy had two daughters, and people close
Speaker 3: to her said that that part of her life came first.
Speaker 3: She stayed in contact with them, kept up with what
Speaker 3: they were doing, and made time for those conversations even
Speaker 3: when things got busy. Julie Swainey talked about how Betsy
Speaker 3: kept those relationships steady, checking in and staying involved instead
Speaker 3: of pulling back. It wasn't something she made a point
Speaker 3: of announcing. It just showed up in how she spent
Speaker 3: her time and who she stayed connected to. Betsy's marriage
Speaker 3: to Russ Faria looked different depending on who you asked.
Speaker 3: Rita Wolfe told reporters that Russ was a quote loving
Speaker 3: and doting husband. Another friend Dana Johnson said Russ had
Speaker 3: a temper. Those statements both came from people who had
Speaker 3: spent time around them, and obviously they didn't match up.
Speaker 3: They just sat there next to each other. Both part
Speaker 3: of how the relationship was described. Russ had his own
Speaker 3: routines that people around him recognized. One night a week,
Speaker 3: he met with the same group of friends. Sometimes they
Speaker 3: played tabletop games, sometimes they watched movies. It wasn't complicated
Speaker 3: and it didn't change often. The people in that group
Speaker 3: describe that is something regular, something that they expected to
Speaker 3: do with us each week. It was a consistent routine
Speaker 3: over time at home, Betsy's life followed the same kind
Speaker 3: of pattern that people tend to settle into work calls
Speaker 3: with family, time in the house, keeping up with what
Speaker 3: needed to get done. Nothing about it stands out when
Speaker 3: it's happening. It's just the same pieces, repeating the same conversations,
Speaker 3: the same people staying in contact. That's how her life
Speaker 3: looked before anything changed. So we've talked a little bit
Speaker 3: about the parias. Let's check in on another character in
Speaker 3: this story, Pam Hup. Pam spent quite a bit of
Speaker 3: time dealing with her mother's care. Her mother lived in
Speaker 3: a facility and was suffering from Alzheimer's and dementia. Pam
Speaker 3: took care of those parts of her mother's life, handling decisions, finances,
Speaker 3: the kind of responsibilities that don't wait for a convenient time.
Speaker 3: She talked about managing her mother's affairs while also trying
Speaker 3: to keep up with everything else going on in her life.
Speaker 3: The people who knew Pam didn't describe her all the
Speaker 3: same way. Rita Wolf, who we've heard from before, said
Speaker 3: Pam showed up and helped when someone needed it, the
Speaker 3: kind of person who stepped in without making it complicated.
Speaker 3: That's one version of her, coming from someone who had
Speaker 3: seen her around Betsy and others. Another friend described her differently,
Speaker 3: saying that Pam could say things that made a conversation
Speaker 3: stop for a second, like something didn't land the way
Speaker 3: it was meant to. Those two descriptions don't line up,
Speaker 3: but they both come from people who spend time around her.
Speaker 3: They sit next to each other without being resolved. This
Speaker 3: happens with a lot of people when you hear about
Speaker 3: them from different people from different angles. One person sees
Speaker 3: someone helpful, another notices moments that feel off. Neither observation
Speaker 3: replaces the other. Both are just part of how Pam
Speaker 3: was described by people who knew her. At this point
Speaker 3: in our story, Pam's life is running on its own track, work,
Speaker 3: family responsibilities, the routine of dealing with her mother's care.
Speaker 3: Betsy's part of Pam's world, but she's not the center
Speaker 3: of it. They know each other, they have a history.
Speaker 3: They can pick up a conversation when they see each other.
Speaker 3: Nothing about their connection stands out on its own, It
Speaker 3: just exists. Betsy's diagnosis came in twenty ten breast cancer.
Speaker 3: Julie Swainey said it didn't change how Betsy talked to
Speaker 3: people right away. She still asked about them first, still
Speaker 3: kept the focus off herself when she could. But then
Speaker 3: the appointment started to stack up, tests, follow ups, then treatment.
Speaker 3: It wasn't one big moment, it was a series of
Speaker 3: smaller moments that kept getting added to the calendar until
Speaker 3: they were part of the week. Treatment meant driving, sitting, waiting,
Speaker 3: then driving home. The cycle repeated, and over time it
Speaker 3: needed someone to handle the transportation. Rita Wolf said Pam
Speaker 3: Hupp was the one doing a lot of that, picking
Speaker 3: Betsy up, taking her to chemotherapy, staying there then bringing
Speaker 3: her back. It wasn't framed as anything unusual. It looked
Speaker 3: like someone helping out, doing what needed to be done
Speaker 3: so Betsy didn't have to handle them alone. But those
Speaker 3: trips put Pam and Betsy together for long stretches. When
Speaker 3: you spend that kind of time with someone, you talk
Speaker 3: not one long conversation, more like pieces of a conversation
Speaker 3: spread across days in the car, in waiting rooms, back
Speaker 3: at the house. Pam later told investigators that Betsy talked
Speaker 3: about money during that time and then what would happen later,
Speaker 3: who would handle things what she wanted done. Betsy's illness progressed.
Speaker 3: Doctor said it had spread to her liver. Her schedule
Speaker 3: didn't clear up after that. It stayed full appointments, treatment
Speaker 3: time at home. In between, Betsy kept in contact with
Speaker 3: family the same way she always had, checking in staying
Speaker 3: connected even when she wasn't feeling well. That part of
Speaker 3: her life didn't change, It didn't fall away. It stayed
Speaker 3: in place alongside everything else she was dealing with. Her
Speaker 3: days kept moving in a predictable pattern, and Pam was
Speaker 3: part of that pattern, now driving, sitting, being in the house,
Speaker 3: leaving again. Rita Wolf described seeing them together more often
Speaker 3: during this stretch, usually tied to those treatment days. Russ
Speaker 3: kept his routine the same, meeting that same group of
Speaker 3: friends one night each week, sticking to his plan. All
Speaker 3: of this existed at once. Appointments, drives, calls with family,
Speaker 3: nights out with friends. Nothing stood out on its own
Speaker 3: while it was happening at the house. Routines stayed familiar.
Speaker 3: Betsy spent time in the same rooms, handled what she could,
Speaker 3: rested when she needed to Meals happened when she felt
Speaker 3: up to them. Calls came in, calls went out. There
Speaker 3: wasn't a clear break between one part of the day
Speaker 3: and another. It was just a series of things that
Speaker 3: needed to get done, and those priorities adjusted according to
Speaker 3: how Betsy was feeling, and Pam was a regular part
Speaker 3: of that rhythm, coming and going and coming and going.
Speaker 3: Nothing in those days gets marked as different when people
Speaker 3: talk about them later. No single moment stands out. It's
Speaker 3: the same pieces. Repeating appointments, drives, time at home, conversations
Speaker 3: with family, nights out with friends. Each part fits next
Speaker 3: to the others without drawing attention to itself. Conversations about
Speaker 3: Betsy and Russ's marriage came from the people around them,
Speaker 3: and those conversations didn't line up. Some friends said Russ
Speaker 3: was the epitome of a loving and doting husband. Others
Speaker 3: said he had a temper and could get really angry.
Speaker 3: Pam talked about what she saw during that period in
Speaker 3: interviews with investigators. She said Betsy had expressed fear of
Speaker 3: us and described him as verbally abusive. Pam also said
Speaker 3: that money came up often during those drives and appointments
Speaker 3: with Betsy. In interviews with investigators, she said that Betsy
Speaker 3: asked her to handle a life insurance policy and told
Speaker 3: her she didn't trust Russ with money. Alongside worrying about
Speaker 3: her health and her finances both now and in the future,
Speaker 3: Betsy kept her focus on her daughter during this period.
Speaker 3: Julie Swainey said her sister stayed involved in their lives,
Speaker 3: checking in and asking about what was going on with them,
Speaker 3: even while she was dealing with treatment. Meanwhile, Pam was
Speaker 3: helping with logistics around Betsy's appointments. She was the one
Speaker 3: driving Betsy to chemotherapy and bringing her home afterward, getting
Speaker 3: her there, waiting through treatment, and then taking her home
Speaker 3: when the treatment was finished. They were often seen together
Speaker 3: managing Betsy's medical care, and it would be hard to
Speaker 3: say that Pam wasn't a godsend. At some point, Betsy
Speaker 3: changed one hundred and fifty thousand dollars life insurance policy
Speaker 3: so that Pam Hupp would receive it. Meanwhile, Russ kept
Speaker 3: his weekly routine at the same time that same group
Speaker 3: of friends. One night a week, his friends expected him
Speaker 3: to be there. The day started the same way a
Speaker 3: lot of Betsy's days did. She had a chemotherapy appointment scheduled.
Speaker 3: Getting to it meant arranging a ride, and her friend
Speaker 3: Pam Hupp was handling that. Everyone knew that Pam had
Speaker 3: been driving Betsy to treatments, picking her up, taking her in,
Speaker 3: bringing her home. That morning followed the same pattern, getting ready,
Speaker 3: heading out, going where Betsy needed to be at the
Speaker 3: treatment center. The process didn't change, check in waiting, then
Speaker 3: the treatment itself, time spent sitting, then more waiting before
Speaker 3: it was time to leave. Those appointments took hours, not minutes.
Speaker 3: Pam stayed with Betsy during the appointment and handled the
Speaker 3: ride back home once it was finished. That's how Rita
Speaker 3: Wolf and other friends described it. Pam taking care of
Speaker 3: the driving so Betsy didn't have to. When they left
Speaker 3: the treatment center, they went back to the house in Troy,
Speaker 3: following the same route they'd taken before other appointment days.
Speaker 3: They arrived back home together later that day. Betsy sent
Speaker 3: a message to Russ. The message read quote, Pam hop
Speaker 3: wants to bring me home to bed, She offered, and
Speaker 3: I accepted. That message places Pam with Betsy at the
Speaker 3: house after the appointment, part of the same pattern of
Speaker 3: helping her get home and settled after the treatment. Russ
Speaker 3: kept his routine that night, friends said he met with
Speaker 3: that same group of friends and was with the group
Speaker 3: later that night. That afternoon, the house in Troy settled
Speaker 3: back into its usual rhythm. After Betsy's appointment. She came
Speaker 3: home with Pam and moved through the same room she
Speaker 3: always did, the living room, the kitchen, the bedroom. The
Speaker 3: treatments left her tired, and the routine after her treatments
Speaker 3: usually meant getting her settled and letting her rest. Pam
Speaker 3: was still there, part of that same pattern, having brought
Speaker 3: her home and stayed long enough to make sure she
Speaker 3: was in and comfortable. While Pam was still in the house,
Speaker 3: Betsy used her phone to text Russ. It's the message
Speaker 3: I mentioned a moment ago. She texted Pam, hup, wants
Speaker 3: to bring me home to bed? She offered, and I
Speaker 3: accepted that message. Placed Pam inside her house after the appointment,
Speaker 3: Consistent with what Rito Wolf had said about Pam handling
Speaker 3: the driving and being present on treatment days, Pam left
Speaker 3: the house after dropping Betsy off. She told investigators later
Speaker 3: that she'd taken Betsy home and then gone on with
Speaker 3: her own evening. Russ, meanwhile, was out gaming with his friends.
Speaker 3: Inside the house, nothing outwardly marked the rest of the
Speaker 3: evening as different from any other day. Betsy had been
Speaker 3: brought home, sent her text message, and was in the
Speaker 3: same space she had been in earlier, same room, same furniture,
Speaker 3: same quiet that settled in after the day's activity had
Speaker 3: passed the house. Betsy, the routine. Everything about that night
Speaker 3: was the same as it always was. Russ turned into
Speaker 3: the driveway and let the head lights wash over the
Speaker 3: garage door before he killed the engine. For a second,
Speaker 3: he stayed where he was, both hands on the wheel,
Speaker 3: looking at the house the way you do when you're
Speaker 3: finishing an ordinary day and expect the next few minutes
Speaker 3: to be ordinary too. The porch light was on, lights
Speaker 3: showed through a couple of windows. Nothing outside looked wrong.
Speaker 3: No open door, no movement, no shadows where they shouldn't be.
Speaker 3: He took the keys from the ignition, pushed the driver's
Speaker 3: door open, and stepped out into the cold. The card
Speaker 3: door shut behind him with a solid, familiar sound. He
Speaker 3: walked up the short path, keys in one hand, shoulders
Speaker 3: hunched a little against the night air, and he let
Speaker 3: himself in. Betsy, he called as soon as he crossed
Speaker 3: the threshold. His voice moved ahead of him into the
Speaker 3: house and disappeared there. He pulled the door mostly shut
Speaker 3: behind him, not all the way, just enough for the
Speaker 3: latch to catch. The house answered him with silence. He
Speaker 3: stood in the jury a moment, listening, no television, no footsteps,
Speaker 3: no voice from the kitchen, no water running, nothing coming
Speaker 3: from the back of the house. He called her name again,
Speaker 3: louder this time. Betsy Russ started forward. The living room
Speaker 3: opened up in front of him, exactly the way it
Speaker 3: always did, the couch in place, the table where it belonged,
Speaker 3: the room lit, but still like whoever had been there
Speaker 3: last had gotten up and stepped away. He took another
Speaker 3: few steps, in his eyes, moving from the couch to
Speaker 3: the hallway and back again. Betsy, The word came out sharper.
Speaker 3: Now he stopped near the edge of the living room
Speaker 3: and tilted his head, listening for anything, a cough, a shift,
Speaker 3: the sound of someone answering from another room. Nothing came.
Speaker 3: His breathing got a little quicker. He moved again, slower,
Speaker 3: now looking lower, scanning the floor around the couch in
Speaker 3: the open space behind it. Then his angle changed. Something
Speaker 3: on the carpet near the sofa resolved into a body.
Speaker 3: He closed the distance in a rush, two fast steps,
Speaker 3: and then a hitch in his movement, like part of
Speaker 3: him wanted to stop before the last few feet made
Speaker 3: it real. Betsy was on the floor beside the couch,
Speaker 3: her body turned awkwardly, head angled off to one side,
Speaker 3: her hair partly covered her face. Blood was everywhere, not
Speaker 3: just a little, not just a stain on clothing, but
Speaker 3: a broad, dark spread across the front of her and
Speaker 3: out onto the carpet beneath her. It had soaked into
Speaker 3: the fibers and spread under her in a shape that
Speaker 3: kept widening the longer he looked at it. He bent
Speaker 3: at the waist first, not yet kneeling, trying to make
Speaker 3: sense of what he was seeing. Then he saw the
Speaker 3: handle a kitchen knife stuck out of her neck, the
Speaker 3: dark handle rising up at an angle that made no
Speaker 3: sense in a room like that, in a house like that,
Speaker 3: in the middle of what had started as a normal night.
Speaker 3: He froze there, half bent, hands hanging useless at his sides,
Speaker 3: staring at the knife, then at her face, then back
Speaker 3: at the knife. Then his knees hit the carpet beside her.
Speaker 3: He reached for her shoulder. First, his hand hovered there
Speaker 3: a split second before it touched fabric, gone wet and
Speaker 3: heavy with blood. Betsy, he said, at once, then again louder, Betsy.
Speaker 3: He pressed against her shoulder as if he could shake
Speaker 3: her into answering him, then shifted that his hand toward
Speaker 3: her neck, searching for anything he could call movement, pulse, heat.
Speaker 3: Nothing answered his touch. He leaned closer, his face near hers,
Speaker 3: looking for the rise and fall of breath, listening to
Speaker 3: his own breathing too loud in his ears. His hand
Speaker 3: came away, slick. He looked at it, stunned, palmed, dark
Speaker 3: and shining in the room light, then wiped it instinctively
Speaker 3: against his pants, leaving a long smear across the fabric.
Speaker 3: He leaned in again, closer, this time, one hand braced
Speaker 3: on the carpet, the other reaching toward her jaw line,
Speaker 3: and then jerking back, unsure where to touch and where
Speaker 3: not to touch. Betsy, Betsy, He used her name, like
Speaker 3: it could do something by itself. The knife never moved,
Speaker 3: she never moved. He rocked back onto his heels, pushed
Speaker 3: himself up with one hand, nearly lost his footing, then
Speaker 3: caught himself and turned toward the front of the house.
Speaker 3: He took a few fast steps, stopped, looked back at
Speaker 3: her again, then moved harder and more urgently, his hand
Speaker 3: already going for his phone before he reached the injuryway.
Speaker 3: He pulled it out, fumbled once, almost dropped it, caught
Speaker 3: it against his palm, and jabbed at the screen with
Speaker 3: his thumb. The phone rang in his hand. He paced
Speaker 3: two steps one way, then back toward the living room,
Speaker 3: not able to stay still and not willing to get
Speaker 3: too far from where she lay. When the despatcher answered,
Speaker 3: he started talking immediately, words coming before the opening questions
Speaker 3: were finished. My wife killed herself. She's on the floor.
Speaker 2: The dispatcher's voice came back, clear and level, asking for
Speaker 2: the address, asking if she was breathing, asking what he
Speaker 2: could see. He answered in fragments, looking over his shoulder
Speaker 2: into the living room. While he talked, blood knife, floor.
Speaker 2: He swallowed hard between words. The dispatcher told him to
Speaker 2: stay on the line. He didn't take the phone from
Speaker 2: his ear. He moved back toward the living room while
Speaker 2: the dispatcher kept talking. I'm going back to her, he said,
Speaker 2: voice catching and then steadying as he crossed the room.
Speaker 2: Heduch the carpet as he walked, choosing where he put
Speaker 2: his feet, avoiding the edge of the blood spread, without
Speaker 2: really thinking about how he knew where it ended. He
Speaker 2: lowered himself again, slower, this time, one knee down, then
Speaker 2: the other. The phone pressed hard to the side of
Speaker 2: his face. The dispatcher asked him to check for breathing,
Speaker 2: to look closely to tell her exactly what he was seeing.
Speaker 2: He leaned in until his face was close to Betsy's.
Speaker 2: His free hand reached toward her neck, then stopping in
Speaker 2: mid air before it landed. When he finally touched her again,
Speaker 2: he did it lightly like he was afraid any pressure
Speaker 2: at all might make what he was seeing worse. She's cold,
Speaker 2: he said at one point, then corrected himself into broken pieces.
Speaker 2: The dispatcher could work with I. I don't know she's
Speaker 2: she's not moving. There's so much blood. He kept looking
Speaker 2: for something to change, and nothing did. The dispatcher kept
Speaker 2: him talking. Every time he went quiet for more than
Speaker 2: a beat, another question came through the phone. Was the
Speaker 2: door unlocked? Was anyone else in the house? Had he
Speaker 2: touched the knife? He answered each one while glancing from
Speaker 2: the room to the doorway and back again, as if
Speaker 2: expecting the house to tell him something. No, No, I
Speaker 2: touched her. I didn't touch the knife. His answers were short, clipped,
Speaker 2: pulled out of him. When she told him to go
Speaker 2: unlock the door, he looked toward the front enterie like
Speaker 2: he had forgotten there was even a door to unlock. Okay,
Speaker 2: He stood up too fast, steadied himself with a hand
Speaker 2: on the couch, and then moved toward the front of
Speaker 2: the house with the phone still to his ear. His
Speaker 2: footsteps sounded loud on the floor. He reached the door,
Speaker 2: worked the lock with fingers that slipped once, then twice
Speaker 2: before the dead bolt turned. He pulled the door open,
Speaker 2: and colder air came in from outside. It's open, he
Speaker 2: told the dispatcher. He left the door open and turned
Speaker 2: back toward the living room. When he got back to Betsy,
Speaker 2: he didn't kneel right away. He stopped a few feet
Speaker 2: short of where she lay and just looked at her,
Speaker 2: his shoulders rising and falling. Phones still pinned against his ear.
Speaker 2: The dispatcher asked what he had touched, what he had moved,
Speaker 2: whether he'd tried to roll her over. He answered, while
Speaker 2: keeping his eyes on the floor beside the couch, then
Speaker 2: on the knife, then on her face. I touched her shoulder,
Speaker 2: I checked her. No, I didn't move her. The answers
Speaker 2: came broken up with breathing and silence, and the sound
Speaker 2: of him swallowing hard. Before he spoke again, he took
Speaker 2: one step closer and crouched without fully kneeling, like he
Speaker 2: couldn't decide whether getting close again would help or make
Speaker 2: it worse. He reached a hand out, stopped before touching her,
Speaker 2: and pulled it back to his own chest instead. The
Speaker 2: dispatcher kept him in the room with her through the phone,
Speaker 2: asking him to stay there, asking him to keep answering.
Speaker 2: He stayed where he could see her and the knife
Speaker 2: at the same time. The first hint of sirens came
Speaker 2: in faint through the open door, too far away at
Speaker 2: first to be certain. He turned his head toward the
Speaker 2: entry and listened, and then back towards Betsy, then toward
Speaker 2: the door again. I hear them, he said to the phone,
Speaker 2: though the dispatcher hadn't asked yet. His voice sounded lower,
Speaker 2: now worn out, the words less rushed because there was
Speaker 2: nowhere for them to go. He shifted his weight from
Speaker 2: one foot to the other and looked down at the
Speaker 2: blood on his pants where he'd wiped his hands without thinking.
Speaker 2: The dispatcher kept him on the line, still asking, still
Speaker 2: answering him, keeping the connection filled. Outside, the sirens got louder,
Speaker 2: moving closer street by street, until they were no longer
Speaker 2: somewhere else. The sound bounced off the houses and came
Speaker 2: in clean through the open door. Russ stayed in the
Speaker 2: living room, one hand holding the phone, the other hanging
Speaker 2: at his side, Flexing once and then going still. He
Speaker 2: looked at the front door, then back to Betsy on
Speaker 2: the floor. The sirens came up fast, at the end
Speaker 2: the way they do when they turn onto your street,
Speaker 2: and suddenly stopped being background noise, red and blue. Light
Speaker 2: started to flash across the front of the house, catching
Speaker 2: the edge of the open door, then sliding in across
Speaker 2: the floor in the wall. He stood there in the
Speaker 2: living room with the dispatcher still in his ear, his
Speaker 2: body turned half way between the doorway and Betsy, like
Speaker 2: he didn't know which direction to face. Now that the
Speaker 2: waiting part was over, He said again that she was
Speaker 2: on the floor, said there was a knife, said please
Speaker 2: at least once without attaching it to anything. The dispatcher
Speaker 2: told him help was there, Help was arriving. Officers were
Speaker 2: coming in. He didn't move toward the door. He didn't
Speaker 2: leave Betsy. The living room stayed exactly the way it
Speaker 2: had been since he found her, couch, carpet, blood, the
Speaker 2: knife still upright in her neck. The house lights on
Speaker 2: the front door opened to the night. Footsteps hit the
Speaker 2: front walk and came hard toward the door. All right,
Speaker 2: we're gonna stop there. Please do join me a week
Speaker 2: from today, Wednesday, May fifth, for part two of the
Speaker 2: Murder of Betsy Farrhea. And hey, if you know anybody
Speaker 2: who likes a true crime podcast, your family, your friend,
Speaker 2: somebody you bump into in an elevator, someone you'll weigh
Speaker 2: that on the street. Please do tell them about the show.
Speaker 2: I sure would appreciate it, and thank you once again
Speaker 2: for spending your time with me. Thank you truly for
Speaker 2: being here. I'm Zevan Odleberg and this has been kind
Speaker 2: of Murdery.
Speaker 1: If you like the show, please subscribe, review and tell
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