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Amityville Murder
 
The Night The DeFeos Died (Book)
Although 30 years have passed, the allure of the Amityville house with its eye-like windows has yet to diminish. Amidst the stories of demonic pigs and ghostly apparitions, the real horror story remained a mystery...until now. Read what the experts are saying about The Night the DeFeos Died:

"As compelling as Truman Capote's In Cold Blood," says Jordan Rich of WBZ Radio Boston.

"The Night the DeFeos Died, is, in my opinion, the most factual work ever published on the incident and everything that took place after that horrific evening," says Doug Spero, Emmy award-winning journalist with NBC and CBS who covered the DeFeo murders and the hoax.

"I have now finished The Night The DeFeo's Died and, I'll be damned, but it has to take its place among the finest half dozen studies of murderers ever published in the United States. Well done, Ric Osuna," says renowned criminologist Christopher Berry-Dee.

On November 13, 1974, police received a report of a homicide at 112 Ocean Avenue, where they discovered six members of the DeFeo family -- father, mother and four of their five children -- shot and killed execution style. The surviving son, Ronald "Butch" DeFeo Jr., was eventually charged and tried for the murder of his family and is currently serving six concurrent life sentences. Some theorized that Ronald DeFeo Jr. was a sociopath turned killer. Others reasoned that Ronald DeFeo Jr. had to be possessed by the devil or insane in order to shoot and kill the slumbering family he adored. To this day, questions remain, such as: Why did it appear that six members of the DeFeo family slept through eight high-powered gunshots? Why were all of the victims found in the same position in their beds?

Three decades later, author Ric Osuna strips away the mystery surrounding one of the world's most notorious events and provides definitive answers to questions that have been left unanswered over the years about the case. Ric Osuna's The Night the DeFeos Died offers incontrovertible proof of the true motives behind this terrible tragedy and reveals Ronald DeFeo Jr. did not act alone in the commission of this crime.

The Night the DeFeos Died exposes the unprecedented coverup that was instigated at the highest levels by police, attorneys, judges, and even the Mafia. The Night the DeFeos Died will offer evidence to support the claim that the supernatural stories were created as part of Ronald DeFeo, Jr.'s defense and were a hoax. This book finally puts to rest the false myths and misinformation surrounding the Amityville case.

A Grisly Discovery

In the early evening hours of November 13, 1974, the patrons of Henry’s Bar, a tavern located at the corner of Merrick Road and Ocean Avenue in Amityville, chatted while sipping their beers and cocktails. To them, the start of the evening seemed just like a typical one in Amityville: calm and uneventful. By night’s end, however, life in Amityville would never again be the same.

At 6:30 p.m., Ronald DeFeo Jr., known by the locals as “Butch,” opened the door to the bar and yelled, “You got to help me! I think my mother and father are shot.”

One of the patrons seated at the bar was Robert “Bobby” Kelske, an out‑of‑work brick mason and Butch’s best friend. Bobby raced to his friend, who had fallen to his knees. Crying hysterically, Butch again pleaded for help, “Bobby, you got to help me. Somebody shot my mother and father.”

“Are you sure they’re not asleep?” Bobby offered.

“No, I saw them up there.”

“Come on then; let’s go.”

Butch got to his feet and called for others at the bar to follow Bobby and him back to the house. Answering Butch’s call was John Altieri, Joey Yeswoit, Al Saxton and William Scordamaglia, owner of Henry’s Bar. The six men piled into Butch’s 1970 blue Buick Electra 225. Butch climbed in the back while Bobby took the wheel.

Although the DeFeo house was only a block away, Bobby drove frantically down the street. One of the men yelled out for him to slow down, but Bobby ignored the comment, arriving at 112 Ocean Avenue in a matter of seconds.

The DeFeo residence was a large, rambling, three‑story Dutch Colonial home built in 1925. Because the property was long and narrow, the dark‑shingled house sat sideways with the front door facing the elongated driveway. At the end of the DeFeos’ 237‑foot‑long lot sat their boathouse, right at the edge of the Amityville Creek.

But the most distinguishable characteristic of 112 Ocean Avenue was its dramatic front yard. Overlooking the street were two quarter‑moon windows that looked like eyes, a feature common in Dutch Colonial homes. On the front lawn stood a lamp post with a sign attached that read “High Hopes,” a symbolic title of the family’s life in suburbia. Kneeling behind the sign were three figurines of children praying to a larger statue of St. Joseph holding the baby Jesus.

Bobby pulled the car to a quick halt and climbed out. As he climbed up the front‑porch steps, one of the other men cautioned, “Be careful! Somebody might be in there!”

“I don’t care,” Bobby yelled as he opened the unlocked door to the DeFeo home.

The house was quiet, except for the barking of Shaggy, the DeFeos’ sheepdog, who was tied up to the inside of the kitchen’s back door. Because the dog was not totally housebroken, the family routinely tied the animal there.

The interior of the DeFeo home was just as impressive as the exterior. To the right of the marble‑covered foyer was the formal dining room with red, velvet‑textured wallpaper lining the walls. In the center of the room, over the Dutch‑style table seating six, hung a crystal chandelier. A textbook belonging to one of Butch’s younger siblings sat, unopened, on the table next to a bouquet of wilting red roses.

Across the foyer was the living room, which contained a baby grand piano. Fronting the large fireplace was a pair of white satin‑cushioned chairs. Lavish paintings and statues were scattered throughout the room. It was evident that Butch’s parents insisted on the most expensive items for their house.

With Bobby Kelske in the lead, the five men hurried up the stairs to the second floor. Bobby, a regular visitor to the DeFeo household, knew exactly where the master bedroom was located. As they reached the second floor, they were overwhelmed with the stench of death.

Bobby stopped at the doorway to the master bedroom and hit the light switch. Before him lay Ronald Joseph DeFeo Sr., 43, and his wife Louise DeFeo, 42. A hole in the center of DeFeo Sr.’s bare back was the first indication the couple was not sleeping. Dried blood had trickled out of the wound, disappearing beneath the obese man’s blue boxer shorts.

In contrast, Louise DeFeo’s wounds were not clearly ascertainable because her body was buried beneath an orange blanket as if she were protecting herself against the evening chill. Behind the bed was a mirrored wall, which eerily reflected the macabre scene.

Seeing that Bobby was ready to pass out, the other men led him downstairs, past the life‑size portraits of family members that hung on the staircase wall.

John Altieri remained on the second floor and checked out the northeast bedroom. Clipper ships, cannons and eagles dotted the room’s wallpaper. On the dresser, to the left of the door, lay several statues and figurines that one would expect to find in a devout Catholic home. Strewn across the floor were athletic shoes and toys signaling that the bedroom belonged to a boy, two boys to be exact.

On opposite sides of the room lay the bodies of two young boys, face down like their parents. In the bed on the left lay the body of John DeFeo, nine. Altieri could not pinpoint the bullet hole in John’s back since the “Knicks” sweatshirt he was wearing was covered in blood.

In the other bed lay John’s brother, Marc DeFeo, 12. Next to Marc’s bed was a pair of crutches and a plain, gray wheel chair. The boy had recently suffered a football injury and needed their assistance to get around. At the foot of his bed lay a crumpled‑up green and yellow bedspread and an orange blanket. This time, Altieri could make out the wound: a single bullet hole in the center of the boy’s back.

Seeing more than he had wanted, Altieri left the room and rejoined the others on the ground floor. There, Joe Yeswoit called 911, giving details to an emergency operator.

--The preceding was taken from Chapter One of The Night the DeFeos Died.

Capitalizing On A Theory

In 1977, a runaway bestseller titled The Amityville Horror, written by Jay Anson, took the nation by storm. The promotional copies sent out by the publisher, Prentice Hall, hailed it as “the non‑fiction Exorcist.” The cover carried the subtitle of “A True Story,” while the copyright page read:

The names of several individuals mentioned in this book have been changed to protect their privacy. However, all facts and events, as far as we have been able to verify them, are strictly accurate.

Author Jay Anson undertook the daunting challenge of chronicling George and Kathleen Lutzes' claims that they and their three small children felt threatened from strong supernatural forces while living at 112 Ocean Avenue. Apparently, the family moved into the DeFeo house believing it to be their dream home.

On December 18, 1975, the Lutz family moved into the DeFeo home. Although it had only been 13 months since the DeFeo murders had occurred, the family later claimed at a press conference, “The DeFeo slayings weren’t something that would bother us.”

According to Anson's book, Father Mancusco arrived to bless the family's new home on the same day they moved into it. While the Lutzes unloaded their rented moving van, the Catholic priest entered the house and began his ritual blessing alone. He made his way upstairs to the second floor and entered the northeast bedroom, which had been Marc and John DeFeos’ room.

As he sprinkled holy water around the room and recited a prayer, he heard a loud male voice allegedly say, “Get out!” Although the priest supposedly did not tell the family about the voice, he did warn them about the room, saying, “Don’t use it as a bedroom. Don’t let anyone sleep in there.” According to a Good Housekeeping article, dated April 1977, the Lutzes followed the priest's advice, turning the room into a sewing room.

From the very first night they moved in, the family claimed they felt strange sensations. Anson had written that the family's personality had drastically changed. On one occasion in the book, the young couple beat their children with a strap and large wooden spoon. After moving to the house, the children apparently had become brats.

Purportedly, things worsened over the next few weeks. From the stench of bile to the smell of cheap perfume, the family became increasingly perplexed by the mysterious odors that would emanate from different locations of the house. Black stains appeared on the toilets and could not be lifted even with Clorox. Green slime ran down walls, although there appeared to be no reason or source. Hundreds of flies appeared in the sewing room despite it being the dead of winter. Of course, Anson's crowning moment was an upside down crucifix.

According to Anson, the phenomena then turned physical. Kathy was victimized by unseen touches, which had sometimes forced her to pass out. On the other hand, George would sit hours by the fireplace because he suffered from constant chills. In addition, he would wake up nightly at 3:15 a.m., reasoning that there was a connection between that hour and the hour the DeFeos were killed. In reality, the time of the deaths was never determined by the medical examiner.

As the month progressed, apparently the situation worsened again for the family. Anson reported that George awoke one night to witness his wife transform into a 90‑year‑old hag. The next night, she began levitating off the bed, forcing her husband to grab her before she floated away.

Realizing they needed help, the family contacted the same Catholic priest to ask him to return to perform another blessing. According to Jay Anson's book, the priest had been feeling the aftereffects from the first blessing. Whatever was plaguing the family was also bothering the priest. (See the Catholic Church Speaks Out section.)

After failing to get the priest to return, the family took matters into their own hands. Armed with a crucifix, they walked throughout the house reciting the Lord's Prayer. A chorus of voices erupted in response, asking them, "Will you stop?"

The most incredible part of Anson's story was his claim that the daughter had befriended an invisible, red‑eyed pig named Jodie. "Jodie could not be seen by anyone unless it wanted to. At times it was a little bigger than a teddy bear and other times bigger than the house," George Lutz explained in October 1979 on the TV show "In Search Of,"  which he served as a consultant and participant for the show.

One night while coming back from the boathouse, Anson had George Lutz witnessing Jodie standing behind his stepdaughter in her bedroom. Kathy Lutz's introduction to her daughter's friend was just as disturbing. On a separate evening, she was startled to see two red eyes peering in through the darkness from the window. Although Anson's version was dramatic, Hollywood's adaptation was simply unbelievable.

The book reported that the malevolent forces caused significant property damage to the house, such as the front door being ripped off its hinges, windows being smashed, banisters being torn from their fittings, damage to the garage door, and water damage from hurricane‑force winds, which local meteorological stations had no record of.

Even their dog, Harry, a malamute‑Labrador mix, supposedly suffered from the strange forces. Although the animal was normally hyper, it had become increasingly lethargic while at the house. One time the dog had almost choked itself because it tried to scale the fence, or so the book would have readers believe.

One of the more chilling events in Anson's book was when George awakened to the sound of a marching band in his living room. He claimed he raced downstairs and entered the room, only to find dead silence and the furniture pushed to one side.

After 28 days in the DeFeo home, the family claimed they could take no more. They grabbed only a few belongings and fled the house, taking shelter at Kathy Lutz's mother's home in nearby Babylon.

Jay Anson's The Amityville Horror sold more than three million copies and was turned into a major motion picture that grossed more than $80 million dollars. The family happily went on a nationwide tour to promote the book as their "true story." Nevertheless, questions remained about the validity of their claims.

Butch DeFeo, however, believed the stories were concocted with the help of William Weber, Butch's defense attorney in 1975. In a handwritten letter, Butch wrote, "Amityville was a hoax that Weber and the Lutzes started. Yes, to make money. It started as my trial was in progress."

Although George Lutz proclaimed his story to be true, William Weber argued the story and Anson's book were not. In the September 17, 1979 issue of People magazine, Weber charged, “I know this book’s a hoax. We created this horror story over many bottles of wine.”

With MGM's remake of The Amityville Horror movie, Amityville may never see an end to the legendary ghost stories that made it infamous. Although entertaining in one sense, comical in another, Jay Anson's book and the subsequent film adaptation have weathered nearly three decades successfully. But the question remains: Can the story last another three decades?

Catholic Church And The Hoax

The facts presented in the Lutz vs. Weber lawsuit showed the ghosts stories surrounding the DeFeo house to be questionable at best. Moreover, facts uncovered in the suit told a very different story about Father Ralph Pecoraro, a.k.a. Father Mancusco, than the one presented by Jay Anson.

There are discrepancies between what was written in Anson’s book about Father Pecoraro and what George Lutz described in the civil case against Weber. Anson’s book said that Father Pecoraro had met George Lutz two years earlier and that “he had helped Kathy and George in the days before they were married.”

Question #43 of George Lutz’s interrogatories asked, “State whether or not you know the Reverend Ralph Pecoraro. If so, state the date, time and place you first met him.”

Over objections, George Lutz answered, “On or about July 14, 1975, 1:00 p.m., 258 Sunrise Highway, Rockville Centre, New York.”

Kathy’s response to the same question was, “On or about July 30, 1975; spoke to him on the telephone.”

After reading the Lutzes’ answers, it becomes evident that Father Pecoraro did not know the Lutzes for any appreciable amount of time prior to their arrival at Amityville. It should also be noted that the Lutzes were married on July 4, 1975, so Father Pecoraro could not have offered guidance to the Lutzes before they were married.

Moreover, Father Pecoraro’s relationship to the case was described in an affidavit from William Daley, the Lutzes’ then-attorney. It read, “Father Ralph J. Pecoraro has indicated that his only contact relating to this case was a telephone call from the Lutzes regarding their psychic experiences.” In fact, William Weber claimed during a radio interview that the priest never even set foot in the house.

During the trial, Father Pecoraro testified over the phone and denied any of the so‑called supernatural afflictions that Anson claimed the priest had suffered in his book. He also told Judge Weinstein that he was not sure if there were any supernatural occurrences at the house. According to Newsday, Father Pecoraro allegedly stated that when he went to bless the house that he did, in fact, hear someone say, “Get out!” The priest's description was vague at best, so a number of explanations could exist.

Since Father Pecoraro is now deceased, it remains unclear if he was a willing participant in the hoax or an unsuspecting party to it. Therefore, it seems likely that despite his reluctant and often contradictory claims, Father Pecoraro never even ventured to 112 Ocean Avenue. After all, the Lutzes’ then attorney, had originally told the court that Father Pecoraro’s only connection to the case was a phone call from the Lutzes.

After several repeated requests, the Diocese of Rockville Centre finally broke its years of silence and commented on the Amityville case. In a May 15, 2002 letter to Ric Osuna, in response to his questions regarding the ghost stories, the assistant to the Vicar General wrote, “The Diocese maintains that the story was a false report. In November of 1977, Diocesan attorneys prepared a substantial list, to be submitted to the publisher [of The Amityville Horror], of numerous inaccuracies, factually incorrect references and untrue statements regarding events, persons and occurrences that never happened.”

Father Pecoraro was eventually transferred to an entirely different diocese, where he purportedly was forbidden to practice certain Catholic rites. But this claim, alleged by the Jim and Barbara Cromarty during a press conference in 1979, has not been substantiated by the Church. Either way, the Diocese of Rockville Centre, responsible for the Amityville area, denied that any psychic events took place or affected clerical officials as reported in Jay Anson's book.

Geraldine Defeo: Amityville's Controversial Figure

In 1974, I was not only the wife of Ronald Joseph “Butch” DeFeo Jr., but also the mother of his child. I knew his family and loved them as my own. Part of my life ended when the DeFeos were murdered and my husband was accused of committing this unspeakable crime.

After the DeFeo murders, I have had to remain silent and hidden, partly out of fear for my children and partly out of respect for those who went to such great lengths to make sure I was not unjustly implicated in the crime. The ones closest to the DeFeos suffered greatly from the tragic murders of their loved ones and from the ridicule following a cruel hoax.

Until July 2000, nothing could be said or done about all the lies told about Butch DeFeo, his family and their house; rich, powerful family members made sure of that. But now that they are dead and my children are grown, it is time to set the record straight. --Geraldine DeFeo, taken from The Night the DeFeos Died.

Lately, Amityville has been even more controversial than normal. It all stems from the fact that one woman, Geraldine DeFeo (Rullo-Romondoe were her maiden names), has revealed that she had an intimate relationship with Ronald "Butch" DeFeo prior to his involvement with the murders in Amityville.

Some may argue that Geraldine is looking for fame and fortune, but this is far from the case. Geraldine, as reported by author Ric Osuna, waived any money she could have received for her participation in Osuna's book, The Night the DeFeos Died. In fact, Geraldine even had a chance to appear on A&E's City Confidential series, but passed instead. And, by no means is this woman on a crusade to free her ex-husband. Of course, she would like to see the wrongs done in his case corrected, but she is the first one to admit that Butch DeFeo's own mistreatment does not give him a license to hurt others. So, with no apparent motive to lie, it becomes increasingly difficult to cast aside her testimony.

Joel Martin, news director for WBAB Radio in Babylon, New York at the time of the 1974 murders, was the first reporter on the scene when the bodies were discovered by the police. On Saturday, June 22, 2002, Ric Osuna had the opportunity to sit down with Joel Martin at the Nautilus Diner in Massapequa for an interview for his book. Accompanying him was Geraldine DeFeo.

At first, Mr. Martin was skeptical of Geraldine's claims regarding her marriage to Butch and her connections to the DeFeos and Brigantes. In the years proceeding the DeFeo murders, Michael Brigante Sr. contacted Joel Martin to thank him since he was one of the only reporters not to disrespect the memory of his daughter. Because he had spoken to him several times, Joel Martin was no stranger to the mannerisms, language, and nuisances displayed by Michael Brigante Sr.

Over lunch, Geraldine was slowly making progress by explaining why there was no record of her marriage to Butch DeFeo. Of course, it helped that Geraldine knew all of Brigante’s favorite terminology. The remainder of Joel Martin's skepticism vanished after she pulled out her old photo ID.

After Martin examined the old photo identification of Geraldine, he explained, "I remember seeing her. I can't remember what time I saw her. She looked so familiar to me. When I saw the old picture, I didn't know that was who she was since she had been so sick [in recent years]. I looked at the picture and I said, 'I know her.' I did a double take, and I said, 'I recognize you.'  She must have been in some part of the story since I don't doubt that she was there. She seems to know a tremendous amount about the story and about the people involved. And she has got those ID cards. I do remember that face back then, but I just cannot place who she was. I am not sure what she has to gain from lying. Geraldine seems to know too much, and she has too many details. Clearly, there was some kind of relationship [between Butch and Geraldine].”

Prior to Joel Martin's interview, on Friday, October 26, 2001, Ric Osuna had the opportunity to ask Hans Holzer specific questions about his theories and books during a tape‑recorded phone interview with him. One of the first questions Osuna asked was about Geraldine DeFeo. Not only did Holzer recall meeting Geraldine, but he also told Osuna that he knew that she and Butch had been married prior to the DeFeo murders.

Even William Davidge, Dawn DeFeo's boyfriend at the time of the murders, informed Ric Osuna that Geraldine was involved with Butch DeFeo in 1974. Butch's two friends, Barry Springer and Chuck Tewksbury, wrote affidavits attesting to the fact that Geraldine was Butch's wife prior to the murders and the mother of Butch's daughter.

Although there are plenty of first-hand accounts and documentation to show that Geraldine had a relationship with the convicted mass murderer before his family's deaths in November 1974, a marriage certificate cannot be located. Therefore, even if it comes to pass that she only had a common-law relationship with Butch DeFeo, her relationship is no less important.

Geraldine DeFeo, who has since remarried and has a new last name, has had a few legal problems herself. She was convicted of check fraud--an incident she blames on Butch DeFeo--and penalized for harboring too many stray dogs rather than allowing them to be euthanized. Her critics argued that since she does not have a "clean" record that her testimony should be disregarded. Her supporters, of course, disagreed, citing more evidence of her authenticity than in comparison with the supernatural stories of the case.

In fact, Geraldine DeFeo refused to testify for Butch DeFeo at a 1992 appeals hearing, even though it may have helped her ex-husband. Butch wanted the courts to believe that Geraldine's non-existent brother, Richard Romondoe, an obvious alias for DeFeo's real murder accomplice, was present during the commission of the crime. However, Geraldine refused to lie under oath and say she had a brother.

What is worse is that at times to protect her children and her new family, Geraldine has had to deny she had a relationship with Butch DeFeo prior to the murders. Of course, Geraldine and her daughters, insist that Geraldine only denied her relationship with the DeFeos out of fear. Commenting on this, Geraldine’s daughter, Stacy, said, “The cops persecuted my mother for information. It seemed to me that they bothered her a lot."


In fact, British criminologist Christopher Berry-Dee reported in his book, Talking with Serial Killers, that after Geraldine came forward in the early 1980s, she was "threatened, pushed to the ground, arrested, and released by the police for conspiracy in the Amityville slayings."

For those not familiar with the case, Butch DeFeo testified at his trial that he also was beaten up during the interrogation. According to Berry-Dee, the officer responsible admitted to him that Butch DeFeo was roughed up, claiming, "Sure, of course we did a good job on him....what do you expect?" 


There certainly is enough evidence that the Suffolk County Police Department--during the timeframe of the DeFeo murders--had a confession rate of over 90 percent because interrogating officers often coerced confessions or tortured suspects into admitting responsibility for crimes they did not commit. (See The Injustice that Followed section.)

The situation in Suffolk County law enforcement had deteriorated so much that former Governor Mario Cuomo requested the state's Commission of Investigation to investigate in the mid-1980s. Three years after, the Suffolk County homicide squad was fired, resigned or forced to retire. The commission's report certainly gave credence to Butch DeFeo's claims that he was tortured during his interrogation.

So, why is Geraldine a threat to so many people involved in the business of Amityville?

Geraldine has exposed countless lies, including her ex-husband's, who has since denounced her out of her refusal to remarry him a third time and her refusal to help him profit from the murders. Butch DeFeo now claims Geraldine is a fake and her daughter is not his, even despite all of his notarized affirmations that say otherwise. In fact, the examination of Geraldine's 1989 remarriage to Butch DeFeo brings out an interesting detail--according to affidavits, Geraldine
and Butch were married for the first time in the 1970s.

It was not until 1989 that a federal judge reversed a New York law prohibiting inmates with life sentences, like Butch DeFeo, the right to marry. However, the Cayuga County Sheriff's Department issued identification dated July 16, 1985 to Geraldine in the married name of DeFeo. Obviously, the Cayuga County Sheriff's Department is not in the habit of issuing identification in the name of just anyone. Geraldine must have had to present some convincing evidence, such as a marriage certificate, to prove she was married to Butch DeFeo prior to the law changing and therefore warranted an identification with the name "DeFeo" on it.

Author Ric Osuna, during his investigation, took the identification card along with Geraldine DeFeo to the Cayuga County Sheriff's Department to have it authenticated. The sheriff's clerk wrote, "The enclosed personal identification card is true and original from the Cayuga County Sheriff's Department, which was issued on July 16, 1985.”

If readers simply discount Geraldine's testimony, then there is more than enough evidence to support Geraldine's assertions that Butch DeFeo had accomplices in the murder of his family, the undeniable Mob elements associated with the DeFeos, the corruption from the Suffolk County justice system in 1974 that prevented Butch DeFeo from having a fair trial, and the ghost stories surrounding the famous Amityville house were nothing but a hoax.

Ever since stepping forward, Geraldine has been ridiculed and labeled a fraud by those who feel threatened by her existence. Despite this hurdle, she has not changed her story. In fact, her daughters, two of which were old enough to remember Butch in their lives, support their mother and vouch for her authenticity.

There have been so many fanciful claims surrounding Amityville that it all comes down on what someone chooses to believe in
: A demonic pig with walls oozing green slime, an angry Indian chief possessing Butch DeFeo, or a woman with little motive to lie? In the end, readers will have to decide for themselves.

Horror or Hoax?

The Amityville Horror Conspiracy is the compelling chronicle of a parapsychologist par excellence who strove for twenty years to tell the truth behind the bizarre headlines.

One of the biggest stories of the 20th century, "The Amityville Horror" began with the killing of the DeFeo family by one of their own---the worst mass-murder ever seen in a small New York community. The "Horror House" was sold to the Lutz family, but after only two weeks, the new owners fled from demonic forces tormenting them. They feared for their lives from the invasion of oozing slime and swarming flies, the glowing red eyes staring in through windows, the murderous impulses to repeat the awful crimes of Ronald DeFeo, Jr.