On March 3, 1989 in the township of Valley Stream, in Nassau County, the state of New York, all seemed to be peaceful as would and could be expected in this middleclass community. Horton Road was a typical street in the neighborhood, lined with attractive houses with well maintained front yards. No one knew the horror that was about to befall this street and this community.
Thirteen year old Kelly Ann Tinyes was looking forward to her fourteenth birthday that she would celebrate with her friends in a couple of days. She asks her father, Richard Tinyes if she can go ice skating and is told that she must look after her younger brother until her mother returns home. During the afternoon she receives a phone call and tells her brother that she is going out for a few minutes and will be back; he was never to see her alive again.
When Kelly didn’t return home, concern matured into panic as all searches and quarries provided no answers. Late in the evening, the police were contacted and eventually an official search was underway. Based on tips by a few witnesses that saw Kelly enter the house at 81 Horton Road, they received permission and a signed waiver from the family Golub that lived there. The contrast between the outside of this house and the inside couldn’t be more marked. Elizabeth Golub wasn’t a housekeeper and the piles of clothes and junk that literally filled every space attested to this fact. The chaos within the house made investigating it difficult but eventually a discovery made in the basement would change the street and its inhabitants forever. The mutilated body of Kelly Tinyes is found, stuffed in a sleeping bag and, although the victim is found, the mystery is about to begin.
I am not particularly drawn to true crime murders as I cannot easily rationalize them. With fiction, no matter how heinous the crime, no matter what the victim suffers and no matter how the body is mutilated, all I have to do is remind myself that it isn’t real but a work of fiction; only born from the mind of the author. True crime is another animal entirely. What you read is what really happened to someone of flesh and blood. These stories trouble me long after the book is back on the shelf.
In 1989 DNA testing is just being known and recognized in the legal system. The O.J. Simpson trial is still in the future and the public is largely unaware of the recent advancements in forensic science. Although the worldwide impact of this trial can’t compare to that of the Simpson’s trial a few years later, many similarities can easily be seen. The meticulous explanations concerning blood typing, DNA testing and forensic gathering and analyzing is presented by the prosecution and evidence protection, possible false or planted information by the police and the reliability of this new DNA science are brought into question by the defense.
In spite of the lingering feeling of unease this story has left me with (I can’t really say I enjoyed reading, in graphic detail the butchering of a young girl), I can imagine that this story would appeal to a large number of readers; with stronger constitutions than mine.