Mr. Morford, in my failing dotage, I know that my remaining days are few. I find myself obligated to propagate further anticipation in what I have been constrained from publicly revealing. With assistance, I am visiting current Web pages on the topic of Zodiac. Allow me to reiterate my encounter with a man who may very well have been the Zodiac Killer.
My name is BOB TARBOX. I practiced law in San Francisco with an office on upper Montgomery St. My law partner was Joseph Git Jue. He would often accuse his coworkers of calling him “Git Jew” when we were merely pronouncing his real name. Anyway, one night in Early 1970’s, I was sitting at my secretary’s desk around 5:30 p.m. admiring her work shoes. A male approached the office door which was open – let me tell you, this guy was a chiseled-out boule of warm sourdough looking to be filled with some steamy man-chowder! I motioned him to come into the office with a fluttery wave and a swivel of my right foot, which at that moment was crossed over my left leg and half out of a patent leather mauve pump. He indicated he wanted to have a legal consultation so I locked the front door and sashayed into my office. In the office, the individual reached deep towards the impressive bulge in his pleated pant pocket and produced as identification a MMD (Merchant Marine Document). “Hello, sailor!” I rakishly exclaimed. Since I did Jones Act cases (personal injury for seamen), I assumed he had a Jones Act case. He indicated to me that it was not a Jones Act case but a criminal case, and wanted to pay for an hour of legal consultation plus some dirty talk. We agreed upon the amount of $50.00 for the hour “consultation.”
The individual proceeded to inform me that he was the Zodiac Killer. At first, I was skeptical – as skeptical as a peg-legged pirate trapped in a Barbary Coast sawmill. “Slow down!” I commanded. “You expect me to swallow that, seaman?” We proceeded to talk about his tattoos, especially an anchor that he could lower and raise. Having been pre-med at UC, I took some courses in psychology and I perceived this exploit to be of a cathartic nature wherein the individual is changing his sexual orientation.
For many years, I have been under both legal and personal constraints with regard to this matter. The legal constraints still remain, but the personal constraints were severed by the death of my law partner – the old Git Jew – and recent death of his wife RITA MOCK GIT JUE. In fact, it’s those same UC psych courses that lead me to wonder about my life-long thrill for constraints.
To the family of Mr. Allen: I have for years monitored Mr. Allen’s trails and tribulations in the investigation of the Zodiac Killer until his death in the early 1990’s. If he had been placed in actual legal jeopardy for these crimes, I would proffer my limited testimony to his defense attorney and I would have testified at any trial as to the prior confession of another individual. After all, we lawyers can’t let our own Melvin BELLIcose to corner the market on Zodiac case media whoring. Since I have seen photos of Mr. Allen in Speedos, I can express unequivocally that he was not the individual that confessed to me!
Mr. Morford, in my failing dotage, I know that my remaining days are few. I find myself obligated to propagate further anticipation in what I have been constrained from publicly revealing. With assistance, I am visiting current Web pages on the topic of Zodiac. Allow me to reiterate my encounter with a man who may very well have been the Zodiac Killer.
ReplyDeleteMy name is BOB TARBOX. I practiced law in San Francisco with an office on upper Montgomery St. My law partner was Joseph Git Jue. He would often accuse his coworkers of calling him “Git Jew” when we were merely pronouncing his real name. Anyway, one night in Early 1970’s, I was sitting at my secretary’s desk around 5:30 p.m. admiring her work shoes. A male approached the office door which was open – let me tell you, this guy was a chiseled-out boule of warm sourdough looking to be filled with some steamy man-chowder! I motioned him to come into the office with a fluttery wave and a swivel of my right foot, which at that moment was crossed over my left leg and half out of a patent leather mauve pump. He indicated he wanted to have a legal consultation so I locked the front door and sashayed into my office. In the office, the individual reached deep towards the impressive bulge in his pleated pant pocket and produced as identification a MMD (Merchant Marine Document). “Hello, sailor!” I rakishly exclaimed. Since I did Jones Act cases (personal injury for seamen), I assumed he had a Jones Act case. He indicated to me that it was not a Jones Act case but a criminal case, and wanted to pay for an hour of legal consultation plus some dirty talk. We agreed upon the amount of $50.00 for the hour “consultation.”
The individual proceeded to inform me that he was the Zodiac Killer. At first, I was skeptical – as skeptical as a peg-legged pirate trapped in a Barbary Coast sawmill. “Slow down!” I commanded. “You expect me to swallow that, seaman?” We proceeded to talk about his tattoos, especially an anchor that he could lower and raise. Having been pre-med at UC, I took some courses in psychology and I perceived this exploit to be of a cathartic nature wherein the individual is changing his sexual orientation.
For many years, I have been under both legal and personal constraints with regard to this matter. The legal constraints still remain, but the personal constraints were severed by the death of my law partner – the old Git Jew – and recent death of his wife RITA MOCK GIT JUE. In fact, it’s those same UC psych courses that lead me to wonder about my life-long thrill for constraints.
To the family of Mr. Allen: I have for years monitored Mr. Allen’s trails and tribulations in the investigation of the Zodiac Killer until his death in the early 1990’s. If he had been placed in actual legal jeopardy for these crimes, I would proffer my limited testimony to his defense attorney and I would have testified at any trial as to the prior confession of another individual. After all, we lawyers can’t let our own Melvin BELLIcose to corner the market on Zodiac case media whoring. Since I have seen photos of Mr. Allen in Speedos, I can express unequivocally that he was not the individual that confessed to me!