EXCERPT FROM THE STRANGER BESIDE ME: BY ANN RULE

If Ted Bundy took lives, he also saved lives. I know he did, because I was there when he did it. I can picture him today as clearly as if it were only yesterday, see him hunched over the phone, talking steadily, reassuringly-see him look up at me, shrug, and grin. I can hear him agreeing with an elderly woman that it must have been beautiful indeedwhen Seattle was lit only by gas lights, hear the infinite patience and caring in his voice, see him sigh and roll his eyes while he listened to a penitent alcoholic. He was never brusque, never hurried. Ted’s voice was a strange mixture of a slightly western drawl and the precise clipped phraseology of an English accent. I might describe it as courtly.

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