The Shabby Truth: Zodiac Killer's August 4th Witness
July 10, 2025
Note:
This article explores how the Zodiac Killer may have used racial language not as a factual description, but as a psychological weapon aimed at surviving victim Michael Mageau. The intention is not to dehumanize or disrespect Mageau in any way, but to critically examine how the killer manipulated identity, language, and social hierarchies to maintain power and control.
On August 4, 1969, the San Francisco
Examiner received a letter from someone self-identifying as the Zodiac. It
was the second in a series of letters from this killer that would span nearly a
decade. Nearly a month had passed since the murder of Darlene Ferrin and the
wounding of Michael Mageau when the Zodiac chose to write this letter.
Initially, he catered to police by offering details that only the killer and
police would know, thereby proving his authenticity.
About a quarter of the way down the second page,
he included the following statement:
“The man who told the police that my car was
brown was a negro about 40-45, rather shabbily dressed.”
There is little doubt that the specifics of
this statement would have startled law enforcement at the time. What “negro”
man was he referring to?
It’s the same question that many
researchers - some 56 years later - are still asking. No police report, newspaper
article, or witness statement has ever corroborated the existence of a black
male witness at the phone booth, which was located roughly four miles from the
Blue Rock Springs crime scene. This raises significant questions: Was this a
real event? Did this person ever exist?
What we can confirm through police reports and
media coverage is that Michael Mageau - the surviving victim of the July 5, 1969,
Blue Rock Springs attack - did tell police that the Zodiac's car was brown and
even speculated on its possible make. It stands to reason, then, that the
Zodiac was referencing information already provided by Mageau. Yet instead of
naming him or even acknowledging him in the same way he depersonalized him
previously, the Zodiac attributed the car description to a seemingly invented
third party: a "negro," "shabbily dressed," and "about
40–45 years old." Why?
An article I wrote in 2024, titled Victim vs. High Profile, may help explain
this choice. That article explores the psychological underpinnings of the
Zodiac’s interactions with his victims and contrasts how he referred to them
with how he addressed public figures. Regarding the victims, I argued that the
Zodiac consistently avoided naming them as a form of symbolic erasure and
contempt. He used generic terms - “the girl,” “the boy,” “the waitress,” “the
taxi driver” - stripping his victims of individuality and humanity.
These individuals were not chosen at random.
They represented roles or social positions that the Zodiac either feared
becoming, felt trapped within, or resented having failed to surpass. His
violence, then, becomes an act of retribution against reflections of his own
perceived inadequacies. Through this lens, the Zodiac’s crimes unfold as a
psychological narrative of insecurity, hatred, and self-contempt - with each
victim representing an aspect of himself that he sought to destroy.
The Zodiac’s pattern of depersonalization
functioned to reduce victims to symbolic placeholders, erasing their agency and
silencing their significance. But Mageau, by surviving, speaking, and
participating in the investigation, resisted that erasure. His survival may
have posed a profound psychological threat to the Zodiac - not merely because he
could provide information to police, but because he disrupted the killer’s need
for complete narrative control.
This may explain why the Zodiac, in his August
1969 letter, referred to a “negro male” as the one who described his car to
police - a person no one has ever verified. It is plausible to interpret this as
a form of displacement: a symbolic act in which the Zodiac, unwilling to
acknowledge Mageau directly, created a racially charged substitute in his
place. Rather than refer to Mageau, the Zodiac offered a fabricated figure
cloaked in mockery, exaggerated age, and racial insult.
The deeper offense for the Zodiac may not have
been simply that Mageau survived, but that he spoke. By giving the police, a
description of the killer’s car, Mageau momentarily seized narrative power from
the Zodiac - a transgression that, in the killer’s worldview, may have demanded
retribution.
The Zodiac had a consistent pattern of using
language not just to relay facts but to manipulate perception and assert
dominance. Referring to Mageau as a “negro” male - despite Mageau being
white - should not be seen as a mistake, but rather as a calculated insult. In
the racially charged climate of 1960s America, this label would carry
substantial social weight. By assigning Mageau a marginalized racial identity,
exaggerating his age by more than 20 years, and calling him “shabbily dressed,”
the Zodiac may have been attempting to degrade him - stripping him of status,
credibility, and dignity.
Mageau, in the Zodiac's view, had committed
the ultimate transgression: he lived. Worse still, he gave law enforcement
clues. In response, the Zodiac retaliated with the only weapon
remaining - language. Through this false and degrading characterization, he
sought to regain control over someone who had slipped from his psychological
grip.
This rhetorical act - replacing Mageau with an
invented, socially devalued figure - mirrors the Zodiac’s broader behavioral
patterns. Just as he refused to name his other victims, here he mocked,
distorted, and insulted the one who escaped. This wasn’t a factual report; it
was a form of punishment - a statement of anger veiled in narrative.
Viewed this way, the description of the “negro
male” is not a case of mistaken identity but a symbolic strike. The Zodiac’s
compulsive need for dominance over his victims - and over the story of his
crimes - could not abide Mageau’s survival. By fabricating a false witness, the
Zodiac obscured reality, insulted his target, and reasserted control, all under
the guise of a simple observation.
While this article focuses on the psychological motive behind the Zodiac’s potential
false description of a witness - suggesting it was an indirect attack on survivor
Michael Mageau - it inevitably raises the question: Was this also an act of racism?
To call a white man a “negro”, particularly in
a context meant to degrade or dismiss him, reflects
more than just a manipulative tactic. It draws on a social hierarchy
in which black identity was stigmatized and devalued in the public
consciousness. Whether or not the Zodiac believed in racial superiority, he
clearly understood that labeling someone
as black - when they were not - was
perceived as an insult, and he used it precisely for that effect.
This suggests a form of instrumental racism - not necessarily
rooted in belief, but in willingness to
exploit racial categories for personal gain, mockery, or psychological
domination. In this sense, the Zodiac doesn’t have to be ideologically
racist to reveal racism in his worldview. His language shows a readiness to invoke racial inferiority as a tool of
humiliation.
So, while it may not be possible to
definitively classify the Zodiac as a racist in a traditional sense, his use of racial language reveals a contemptuous
and exploitative view of race. It’s a reminder that racism often
operates not just through belief systems, but through casual, calculated, and
symbolic acts of dehumanization.