The story
East Amwell Township is farm country in western central New Jersey, about an hour from Philadelphia and an hour and ten minutes from New York City, with a population of 3,933. In August 1973 it was smaller still. Deborah Margolin, 17, known as Debbie, was the daughter of Dr Solomon Margolin, a pharmacologist who owned Affiliated Medical Research of Princeton and had served on the East Amwell Board of Education. She was a straight-A student at Hunterdon Central High School, a class officer and a band member, going into her senior year. Her brothers David, 25, Bernard, 23, and Daniel, 21, were at the family farmhouse that summer.
On the morning of August 13th, 1973, Deborah was sunbathing on the patio in a two-piece bathing suit when a dusty white car with two deep dents in its right side and a boot tied shut with rope pulled into the driveway and sounded its horn. Daniel and Bernard looked out and saw the driver, a man in loose clothing who looked like a factory worker. Daniel heard him tell Deborah that a heifer was loose at the bottom of the driveway. Deborah told her brothers she would deal with it, got into one of the family cars and followed the man as he drove off. That was the last time she was seen alive.
Four or five hours passed. At 5.45 that afternoon the family called the police. A search found no cow but did find Deborah face down in a stream. Her throat had been cut so deeply that her windpipe and jugular were severed; she had been stabbed and cut around the pelvic and vaginal area and in the right breast, and part of her bathing suit was around her waist. Neighbours armed themselves and sat on their roofs.
A road crew working that day had stopped the same damaged white car and seen the driver wiping down the seat with a brown paper bag. Bernard later spotted a car matching the description. In his youth he had pinched girls' breasts at school, made explicit comments to them and stolen women's clothing from washing lines.
Blood on the seat was the same type as Deborah's; there was no DNA testing in 1973. Police took him into custody there at 10.30 that night and, with his consent, examined the car. Questioning at the barracks began at 11.49 and lasted 58 minutes. A trooper told him the car matched the description to a T, that there was fresh blood in it and that a witness had seen him at the house, then worked on him: he was not a criminal, he had a problem, the problem could be rectified, he needed help rather than punishment. He remembered throwing her body off the bridge, driving home and washing the blood from the seat with a hose. Before a written statement could be taken he slid from his chair to the floor in what troopers called a state of shock, and was taken to hospital.
The trooper who took it said he would not have done it differently.
A 1998 hearing, required by a 1980 law after 25 years, refused him again, and he has had annual reviews since, each bringing a one-month reduction.