The Golden State Killer - Part 1:  A Horror Beyond Belief | #460

**Hannah** (0:09)
The thing about pianos is unless you have the money, space and brass balls to pull off a Steinway ground in your home, the more modest upright pianos that are a lot more common, they're usually up against walls. It's actually really rare for a piano not to be backed into a corner in people's houses.

**Saruti** (0:27)
Even though I keep seeing all of these interior designers, they're like, way to make your house look cheap, push all your furniture up against the wall. And I'm like, where else would my furniture go, if it's not up against the wall? Well, quite.

**Hannah** (0:38)
And there is something about a piano, not against a wall, like an upright, that feels a bit sort of like village hall, you know?

**Saruti** (0:48)
Though I do have to say, when we bought our house, none of the furniture was pushed up against the wall. I was like, what were these people doing? Apparently, making their house not look as cheap as I've made mine look.

**Hannah** (0:59)
So the knock-on effect of wall piano, other than looking cheap, it almost always means that the pianist has their back to the entrance to the room. Even if they're not totally turned away from the entrance, maybe if they even side on, whichever one it is, the musician is going to be concentrating on the keys, reading their sheet music or maybe if they are true virtuoso, they might even have their eyes completely closed.

**Saruti** (1:26)
Danger.

**Hannah** (1:28)
So it makes sense, all that considered, when in 1976, 15-year-old Chris Pedretti decided to skip the school dance and practice her scales instead. She didn't have an eye on the door. There was no one else in. Her parents were at a party and her sister was at work. Chris' best friend had nipped around for a bit, but left pretty soon.
Chris Pedretti was alone, or so she thought. There's nothing better to fill the silence of an empty house than music, especially when you're making it yourself. So Chris happily played away, pausing only once when she thought she heard fabric ripping behind her.
But she dismissed it and carried on tinkling those ivories. Her best friend had only just left 10 minutes ago. Usually we get a couple of hours of home alone before our mind starts playing tricks on us.

**Saruti** (2:21)
You know, minutes for me, absolute minutes for me.
So Chris Pedretti didn't see the 5 foot 11 man wearing a red ski mask slip through the door and creep up behind her as she played. She was suddenly startled by the very particular feeling of a knife being pressed against her throat, accompanied by a guttural voice pushing through clenched teeth that said, make a move and I'll kill you. The intruder pulled out Chris's sister's shoelaces and tied Chris's hands behind her back. Then he stuffed a cloth pulled from his pocket into her mouth and pushed her from the piano into the back garden. As he shoved her towards the Padretti family picnic table, the predator hissed, If you say anything or flinch, I'll push this knife all the way in and I'll be gone in the dark.
In Rancho Cordova, California, was hours of torturous defilement. The man in the mask demanded that Chris masturbate him with her bound hand and he moved from the outside into the house over and over again. In between assaults on the terrified teenage girl, the man would prowl through the Padretti house, leaving Chris tied up alone, having to guess when he was coming back. He raped Chris on her parents' bed, twice in the living room, and whispered to her, Isn't this good? And then the man in the red ski mask vanished.

**Hannah** (4:05)
I'm Hannah.

**Saruti** (4:06)
I'm Saruti.

**Hannah** (4:07)
And this is RedHanded.
Chris' parents took her to the police station when they found out what horrors had befallen their girl. But that was the only time they ever spoke about it. Her parents waited outside the room while Chris gave her statement to the police. A dark cloud of shame loomed over the whole family. Chris' father insisted that none of them were ever allowed to tell anyone what happened that February night. And just two days after her ordeal, Chris was shipped off to Bible Camp.
And if that trip to Jesus Town was supposed to cleanse Chris' soul, it had the opposite effect. The only thing she could focus on was, how could a benevolent God have allowed such a thing to happen to her? And that was that. Not a word was spoken. The church bells all were broken. And Chris Padretti never played the piano again.