The Halloween Card as a Structured Narrative: A Reassessment of Zodiac’s Intent

 

 

On October 27, 1970, a card titled From Your Secret Pal was mailed to San Francisco Chronicle reporter Paul Avery. The envelope’s sender section contained two symbols also seen inside the card, arranged as if they represented a name and address.


Tom Voigt’s website notes that the inside flap of the envelope bore a message. However, the phrase “Sorry No Cipher” was actually found on the backside of the card, revealed only after unfolding.





Researchers have long drawn two conclusions from this card:

1.    It announces a new victim count of fourteen.

2.    It threatens Paul Avery’s life.

Why these conclusions? First, Zodiac did mail the card directly to Avery. Second, the imagery invites interpretation. The section most often cited is shown below.


Within this panel we see:

  • “Peek‑A‑Boo - You Are Doomed”
  • Thirteen eyes - twelve drawn, one printed on the card
  • A skeleton labeled “4‑teen”

Researchers assume Avery is represented by the skeleton, marked as the fourteenth victim. The thirteen eyes are thought to symbolize prior victims. Yet the original eye - embedded in the knot of the tree and encircled by “Peek‑A‑Boo - You Are Doomed” - may instead represent Zodiac himself. If so, the total count cannot include him, undermining the victim‑count theory.

This alternative reading suggests the eyes and skeleton serve another purpose entirely.

Whether or not the card targets Avery, we must ask: why single him out? Reviewing Avery’s reporting reveals one clue - his Chronicle article of October 12, 1970. Law enforcement had already noted Zodiac’s fascination with Gilbert and Sullivan, but Avery went further, writing that Zodiac had “plagiarized several stanzas from an aria in The Mikado.” For a writer, plagiarism is a stinging accusation.

Zodiac had two weeks to reflect on that jab before mailing the Halloween card. Compare this to his rapid two‑day reaction to the witnesses of Paul Stine’s murder - a stark difference in emotional immediacy.

Threatening children who identified him fits his pattern of retaliation. Threatening a journalist for calling him a plagiarist does not. The timing feels disproportionate.

If Zodiac’s intent were truly to threaten Avery, he would have waited for a more opportune moment, like November 16, 1970 - when Avery published the article linking Zodiac to Cheri Jo Bates. Instead, the card predates that revelation.

This timeline becomes even more revealing when we consider his later correspondence. Four months later, Zodiac responded to Avery’s discovery in a letter to the Los Angeles Times:

“I do have to give them credit for stumbling across my Riverside activity, but they are only finding the easy ones, there are a hell of a lot more down there.”

He acknowledged Avery’s work, even complimenting it, before adding:

“The reason I am writing to the Times is this, they don’t bury me on the back pages like some of the others.”

This phrasing reveals resentment not toward Avery personally, but toward editorial treatment - being “buried” rather than featured.

The Halloween card was not a threat. It was an acknowledgment - a cryptic message signaling that Zodiac knew of Cheri Jo Bates’s death and perhaps his own involvement. In sending it, he offered Avery the story of his life, expecting recognition. When Avery and the Chronicle overlooked the design elements in the card, Zodiac saw himself relegated to the ‘back pages’ - a slight he could not ignore.

Between April and October 2010, I began developing a broader theory that Zodiac embedded geographic information into his communications - a line of research reflected in my work on the Bus Bomb diagram and the Exorcist Letter symbols. During that same period, I considered that the Halloween card’s four‑dot symbol might follow the same pattern, though its specific meaning was not yet clear. The structure was deliberate, but the purpose of the four points remained unresolved.

Only after posting to Zodiackillersite.com on February 1, 2011, about “Palm 14,” did the answer begin to emerge. I suggested that the number 14 in the skeleton’s palm wasn’t a victim count but a location. Two blocks from both the Riverside Press and RCC lies the intersection of Palm Avenue and 14th Street - home to Evergreen Memorial Historic Cemetery, where more than 27,000 souls rest, many of regional and national significance. Given the card’s imagery, this location felt deliberate.

Believing Zodiac was revealing his knowledge of Cheri Jo Bates and providing clues to corroborate it, I searched Riverside for the symbol, and this is what I found:


The beginning of the symbol - point A - corresponds to Cheri Jo Bates’s residence at 4195 Via San Jose. From there, it follows Arlington Avenue and then Magnolia Avenue, tracing the route Cheri likely took on her way to Riverside City College. Point B marks the entrance to Terracina Avenue, which borders RCC, and the short line extending from point B ends near the location where Cheri’s body was found in the 3600–3700 block of Terracina Avenue. Point C identifies the Riverside Press at 3512 14th Street. These three points are central to the case and to the killer’s communications.

The four dots surrounding the symbol, running clockwise from the top left, are:

  1. M. McLean–Anza Narrows Park
  2. Mount Rubidoux Park
  3. Box Springs Mountain
  4. California Citrus State Historic Park

It’s true that people can see patterns where none exist, so the question becomes: what makes this instance meaningful rather than coincidental?

When I began researching the four locations and why Zodiac might have chosen them, a pattern emerged. All four are historically significant and tied to the birth of Riverside, California. In this symbol, we see not only the birth of a city, but also the death of one of its members.

This led me to reconsider the other elements of the Halloween card and how they might relate to the four‑dot symbol:

  1. Date of mailing: October 27, 1970
  2. NASA moon stamp
  3. The X formed from “Sorry No Cipher”
  4. Pumpkin covering the skeleton’s genital area
  5. The number 14 on the skeleton’s palm
  6. Pasted skeleton inside the card
  7. Handwritten “4‑teen”
  8. Thirteen drawn eyes
  9. The letter Z
  10. The High Cross
  11. “Peek‑A‑Boo — You are doomed”
  12. Heart in the skeleton’s eye
  13. “Paradice Slaves” and “By fire, by gun, by knife, by rope”

Could these elements also be part of the same story?

It is also notable that the card presents “4‑teen” above the skeleton and “14” in the palm, while the interior contains thirteen drawn eyes. When examining the card’s structure, these paired numbers - 14 and 13 - appear repeatedly, suggesting that Zodiac may have been using them as semantic markers rather than literal victim counts.

After examining each one, I found that most of them do fit - and more importantly, they all point back to a single name. A name I have believed since 2011 to be a Zodiac signature element - a mental fingerprint woven through his letters. But appreciating that signature requires understanding the story behind it, and that story stretches back more than 200 years. I cannot cover all of it here, especially as it relates to other Zodiac letters, so I will focus on the Halloween card alone, presenting the historical background in condensed form.

Before Riverside became a city, the land was maintained by the Franciscan Mission San Gabriel - the “Mother of Agriculture.” It was the fourth of 21 missions founded in California, and the fourth founded by Father Junípero Serra. At the time, all missions were under Spanish control.

Father Serra encouraged Juan Bautista de Anza’s expeditions through what is now California, even traveling with him for part of the journey. During his 1774 and 1776 expeditions, de Anza crossed the area now known as M. McLean–Anza Narrows Park. Struck by its beauty, he named it Valle de Paraíso - the Valley of Paradise.

This connection to “paradise” and parks may explain Zodiac’s phrase “Paradice Slaves.” Park rangers, in a sense, are servants of paradise. Thus, M. McLean–Anza Narrows Park becomes the first point in the four‑dot symbol.

In 1821, Mexico gained independence from Spain, and California came under Mexican control. The mission lands were gradually divided during the rancho era (1821–1846). In 1838, Juan Bandini received Rancho Jurupa - 32,000 acres spanning both sides of the Santa Ana River. Part of this land included Mount Rubidoux, the second point in the four‑dot symbol.

Louis Rubidoux purchased portions of this land in 1843 and 1847. After his death in 1868, some of the land was sold to the California Silk Association. Thomas W. Cover and Louis Prevost were among the association’s leaders, intending to establish a silk‑producing colony. The plan collapsed when Prevost died in 1870.

Cover then sought buyers and approached John W. North and James P. Greves, who purchased the land in 1870. Today, North and Greves are considered the founders of Riverside. John W North happens to connect also to an unconfirmed Zodiac communication, but that is for another discussion.

Cover himself was a prominent Montana gold miner who disappeared in 1884 while searching for the lost gold of Pegleg Smith. Pegleg - often identified as Thomas “Pegleg” Smith, though some sources name him Lazarus Smith - was a legendary prospector whose stories tie into the early history of California, the gold rush, and even the Donner Party. These threads connect to other Zodiac communications, but that is for another article.

The relevance here is that Pegleg Smith forms the starting point of the Halloween card’s graphic symbolism. The pumpkin covering the skeleton’s midsection represents the “pumpkin patch” concretions near Ocotillo Wells in Riverside County - geological formations studied for their agricultural significance. Riverside is the birthplace of California’s citrus industry. Thus, the card’s imagery already contains two agricultural references: Mission San Gabriel and the pumpkin patch.

The skeleton itself symbolizes Pegleg Smith. The Borrego Badlands - near the pumpkin patch - are rich in “black gold,” and Desert Magazine (February 1970) recounts a legend of a skeleton haunting the area in search of lost gold. This ties Pegleg Smith to Thomas Cover, to the land sold to North and Greves, and ultimately to the birth of Riverside’s citrus empire - the “second gold rush.”

The number 14 on the skeleton’s palm corresponds to Palm Avenue and 14th Street in Riverside, home to Evergreen Memorial Historic Cemetery, where many of Riverside’s earliest settlers are buried. This location is bounded by the very streets referenced in the card.

Other key figures in Riverside’s development include Luther and Eliza Tibbets, Matthew Gage, John Henry Reed, and Miguel Estudillo.

Eliza Tibbets nurtured two Washington navel orange seedlings in the late 1870s, launching California’s citrus industry - the third agricultural reference. Matthew Gage, beginning in 1881, acquired land and water rights that enabled large‑scale irrigation. By the late 1880s, he owned land stretching from Box Springs Mountain to the area now known as California Citrus State Historic Park - points three and four in the four‑dot symbol.

Gage nearly lost his land due to a one‑day delay in meeting legal requirements, but the courts ruled in his favor in 1896 - a remarkable stroke of luck.

John Henry Reed later proposed a state‑funded citrus research station. With support from Assemblyman Miguel Estudillo, the University of California Citrus Experiment Station was established on February 14, 1907, on the east slope of Mount Rubidoux. It later moved to the base of Box Springs Mountain and became UC Riverside.

In 1906, Frank A. Miller, Henry E. Huntington, and Charles M. Loring purchased Mount Rubidoux to develop it as a park. A cross and tablet dedicated to Father Serra were placed at the summit in 1907. In 1909, Jacob Riis - friend and biographer of Theodore Roosevelt - suggested holding an Easter sunrise service there. The tradition continues today.

Sixty‑six years later, on October 31, 1966, Cheri Jo Bates was murdered on Terracina Avenue. The confession letter arrived a month later, followed by the “Bates had to die” letters.

The symbol - even without the four dots - is rooted in Cheri Jo Bates, Riverside, and the Riverside Press‑Enterprise. I cannot say Zodiac killed Cheri Jo Bates, but the card’s composition suggests that including her served his larger thematic purpose.

The Zodiac’s Main Interest

  1. Date of mailing: October 27, 1970 - Theodore Roosevelt’s birthday.
  2. NASA moon stamp: A reference to Apollo 8 (December 21, 1968). During the mission, astronaut William Anders remarked, “looking pretty small down there,” to which Ken Mattingly replied, “We’re carrying a big stick, though.” The phrase “speak softly and carry a big stick” is famously associated with Theodore Roosevelt.
  3. The large X inside the envelope flap: Echoes the large X Roosevelt drew in his diary on February 14, 1884 - the day both his mother and wife died.
  4. Skeleton, pumpkin, Palm 14, four‑dot symbol, High Cross: All tie back to Riverside’s agricultural origins and to Theodore Roosevelt.
    • Roosevelt planted one of Eliza Tibbets’s navel orange trees at the Mission Inn in 1903.
    • Jacob Riis, who suggested the Mount Rubidoux sunrise service, was Roosevelt’s close friend and biographer.
  1. The eyes: Symbolic of the Sierra Club and its ranking system. John Muir, founder of the Sierra Club, was Roosevelt’s close ally in establishing national parks and monuments.
  2. “Peek‑A‑Boo”: Likely a reference to Peek‑A‑Boo Slots in Bryce Canyon National Park - declared a national park by Roosevelt in 1905.
  3. “Paradice Slaves — By fire, by gun, by knife, by rope”:
    • “Paradice Slaves” may refer to park rangers - guardians of Roosevelt’s “paradise.”
    • The four methods of death echo the Tim Holt comic but also connect to Holt’s film The Arizona Ranger (1948), about former members of Roosevelt’s Rough Riders.
  4. Heart in the skeleton’s eye:
    • Location possibly references an eye deformity Zodiac may have had.
    • Symbolically tied to February 14 - the day UC Riverside’s Citrus Experiment Station opened, and the day Roosevelt’s mother and wife died.

Three elements remain:

A. Pasted skeleton inside the card: Possibly another Pegleg Smith reference

B. Handwritten “4‑teen”: Could reference Mission San Gabriel, the fourth mission founded by Serra. Or refer to four teenagers Zodiac hinted he killed (“a hell of a lot more down there”).

C. The letter Z: I believe the symbols inside the card (four‑dot symbol, Z, High Cross) are intentionally out of order and should read (Z, four‑dot symbol, High Cross) In correct sequence, they may represent Zodiac’s route from a location tied to him, to Cheri Jo Bates’s residence, to the Serra High Cross. Zodiac also used these symbols on the envelope as a return address - effectively saying: From Cheri Jo Bates (sender) to me (address).

Viewed in full, the Halloween card forms a coherent structure. Its symbols align with Riverside’s geography, its early agricultural foundations, its landmarks, and the events surrounding Cheri Jo Bates. Rather than a threat or a victim count, the card functions as a constructed narrative - a demonstration of knowledge expressed through design. Its meaning emerges from the way these elements fit together, not from any single detail in isolation.