The Martin Murders
On a cold Wednesday afternoon in January 1964, 16-year-old Susan Martin returned home from Oakland High School to a scene that would haunt her forever. Inside her family's pristine Spanish-style mansion in the exclusive Crocker Highlands neighborhood, she discovered the bodies of her mother and sister—bound, strangled, and posed in a grotesque display that shocked even seasoned investigators. The brutal murders of Betty Martin, 43, and Carolyn Martin, 18, would become one of Oakland's most notorious unsolved cases, a crime so shocking that it sent ripples of fear throughout the East Bay and attracted investigators from across the country.
The Perfect Family
The Martins appeared to embody the American dream of the early 1960s. Dr. Frank Martin, an osteopathic physician with a downtown Oakland practice, provided well for his family. Their home at 1140 Ashmount Avenue—a twelve-room mansion in Oakland's toniest neighborhood, just steps from the Piedmont border—stood as a testament to their success. Today, that same home would be valued at over $2 million.
Betty Martin was far more than a housewife. A petite brunette with boundless energy, she had been named "Oakland's Mother of the Year" in May 1963, just eight months before her death. The honor recognized her tireless work as an elder at First Presbyterian Church, her leadership role in the Oakland Council of Church Women, and her various charitable endeavors. She sang soprano for various groups and collected bells from around the world, a hobby her daughters supported during their travels.
The Martin daughters were equally accomplished. Carolyn, 18, was home on winter break from Chico State College, where she was pursuing a teaching credential. At Oakland High, she had been a member of the rally committee, a candidate for homecoming queen, and active in drama class, where her teacher noted her "flair for comedy." Her younger sister Susan, 16, was a popular senior and song girl who led student body pep rallies. Both girls had steady boyfriends and bright futures ahead of them.
The Day Everything Changed
January 22, 1964, began like any other Wednesday for the Martin family. Dr. Martin left for work early, dropping Susan off at school on his way. Carolyn, home for winter break, hadn't even fully unpacked her suitcase from college. She and her mother decided to take the family's small black-and-white Pekinese, "T.D.," to a clinic near the airport for a distemper shot.
Workers at the clinic confirmed the dog received its shot at 9:45 a.m., and the women left minutes later. With no stops, police estimated they would have arrived home around 10:20 a.m. What happened next would transform their immaculate home into a crime scene that continues to baffle investigators six decades later.
A Horrific Discovery
When Susan returned home around 5:30 p.m., she found a scene that defied comprehension. Her mother and sister lay side by side in the living room near the family's grand piano, their bodies bound in a distinctive and disturbing manner. Both women had been hog-tied, with their hands and feet bound behind them. Betty had been strangled with an electrical cord ripped from a nearby hi-fi set, while Carolyn had been strangled with two nylon stockings.
The killer had posed the bodies in a particularly grotesque fashion, with the victims' right legs tied to their upper bodies at extreme angles. The electrical cord around Betty was looped from her toe to her neck. Most of Carolyn's clothing had been torn away, and she had been sexually assaulted. Betty had been struck in the face with a fused-marble ashtray that broke into four pieces, while Carolyn appeared to have been beaten with fists.
Perhaps most unsettling, the family's little dog sat quietly near its deceased owners, unharmed but bearing witness to the unspeakable violence that had occurred.
The Investigation
The Oakland Police Department launched one of its most intensive investigations in history. Four detectives worked full-time on the case for over six months, interviewing more than 3,000 people. The crime scene yielded crucial evidence—blood, semen, and fingerprints—but in an era before DNA testing, these clues couldn't definitively identify the killer.
Initially, investigators theorized the women had interrupted a burglar, but this theory quickly fell apart. There was no sign of forced entry, nothing had been stolen, and the brutality of the crime suggested something far more personal than a bungled robbery. The killer had used items from within the house—the electrical cord and possibly the nylon stockings—suggesting either familiarity with the home or an ability to adapt quickly to the surroundings.
Investigators soon discovered a disturbing precedent. The previous June, the Martin home had been burglarized. The thief had taken an unusual collection of items: a bed jacket, women's hosiery, and lingerie—suggesting a fetishistic element that would prove eerily prescient. Detectives wondered if this earlier intruder had returned with more sinister intentions.
A Prime Suspect Emerges
As the investigation progressed, detectives began focusing on a young UC Berkeley student who knew Carolyn. Oakland homicide detective Jack Richardson became so convinced of this man's guilt that he went undercover, posing as a fellow Berkeley student to shadow him.
"If I could prove it, I would have him right now. I mean today," Richardson said in a 2005 interview. "It was his own mouth. He said some things."
Despite Richardson's conviction and months of surveillance, investigators could never gather enough evidence to make an arrest. According to reports, this prime suspect has since died, taking any secrets to his grave.
The Shadow of a Serial Killer
The Martin murders didn't occur in isolation. Just days after Betty and Carolyn were killed, another woman was found dead under similar circumstances. On January 27, 1964, Jane Stapleton, 40, was discovered in her San Pablo home by her son at 3:30 a.m. A religious woman and wife of a San Pablo police sergeant, Stapleton had been dropped off at home after 1 a.m. by her daughter and son-in-law.
Stapleton's skull was fractured, and she had died from suffocation. Initially, investigators thought she had been strangled with a cord from a nearby soldering iron, though they later considered a plastic bag as the murder weapon. While some reports indicated she hadn't been sexually assaulted, the timing and proximity of her death to the Martin murders led many to wonder if the same killer was responsible.
The similarities extended beyond just these cases. On February 10, 1963—nearly a year before the Martin murders—44-year-old Marian Schiager had been abducted from a San Leandro supermarket parking lot. Her body was found the next day in a churchyard, hanging from an electrical cord. She had been beaten, slashed, raped, and strangled. Prior to her death, Schiager had received disturbing calls from an unknown man who mumbled on the phone. When her husband quickly remarried, his second wife reportedly received calls from the same man.
All three cases shared disturbing similarities: the victims were brunettes, all had connections to churches, all had been attacked in similar fashion, and all involved some form of ligature strangulation. The geographic proximity and timing of the crimes led investigators and media to speculate about an "East Bay Strangler" operating in the area.
National Attention
The brutality and mysterious nature of the Martin murders attracted national attention. Investigators flew in from Boston to explore possible connections to the Boston Strangler case, though no links were established. The murders made headlines across the country, with newspapers noting the irony of Oakland's "Mother of the Year" becoming a murder victim in her own home.
The Crocker Highlands neighborhood, described by the San Francisco Examiner as "dotted with a variety of homes in the $30,000 to $45,000 range"—substantial sums in 1964—was transformed by fear. Residents installed new locks, bought guard dogs (the local animal shelter reportedly ran out), and viewed strangers with suspicion. The idea that such violence could invade this bastion of respectability shook the community to its core.
Theories and Speculation
Over the decades, various theories have emerged about the Martin murders:
The Fetish Burglar Theory: The June 1963 burglary, with its focus on women's intimate items, suggested the killer may have been stalking the family for months. The use of nylon stockings in Carolyn's strangulation could indicate the killer brought them or knew where to find them in the house.
The Acquaintance Theory: The lack of forced entry led investigators to believe the women may have known their attacker and let him in willingly. This theory gained credence with the focus on the Berkeley student who knew Carolyn.
The Serial Killer Theory: The similarities to other East Bay murders suggested a serial predator. The positioning of the bodies, the use of ligatures, and the targeting of religious women all pointed to a killer with a specific signature.
The Interrupted Crime Theory: Some investigators maintained the women interrupted a burglary, though the extreme violence and sexual assault of Carolyn argued against a simple property crime gone wrong.
A Cold Case Grows Colder
As years passed, the Martin case grew cold. Dr. Frank Martin continued living in the family home for many years, a daily reminder of his tremendous loss. He died in 1991, never knowing who killed his wife and daughter. Susan Martin's whereabouts today are unknown; if still living, she would be in her late 70s, carrying the trauma of discovering her family's bodies for over six decades.
The physical evidence from the crime scene—including semen and possibly blood—offered hope that modern DNA technology might one day identify the killer. In 2010, Oakland police indicated they were applying new forensic techniques to old evidence, though no breakthroughs have been announced. The challenge with such old cases is whether evidence has been properly preserved and whether degradation over 60 years has rendered it unusable.
The Human Cost
Beyond the investigative details and theories lies the human tragedy of the Martin murders. Betty Martin, recognized for her community service and faith, was killed in the home she kept immaculate. Carolyn, a young woman with dreams of becoming a teacher, had her life brutally cut short during what should have been a carefree winter break from college. Susan lost her mother and sister in one horrific afternoon, forced to build a life shadowed by unimaginable trauma. Dr. Martin lost his wife and daughter, left to return each day to the house where they died.
Friends from First Presbyterian Church still remember the family. Jeri Sulley, who was Susan's age and knew the family through church activities, told reporters in 2010: "The worst part to me was... it was Sue who found the bodies. With us being the same age, I could relate most closely to her experience. I imagined her walking in the door with a 'Hi Mom, I'm home,' and finding her mother and sister that way."
The Enduring Mystery
Today, the Martin murders remain unsolved, a cold case that grows colder with each passing year. The grand Spanish-style home on Ashmount Avenue still stands, its current residents likely unaware of the full horror that unfolded within its walls. The Oakland Police Department, overwhelmed with current cases, can devote few resources to a crime from 1964.
Yet for those who remember—former classmates, church members, investigators who worked the case—the murders of Betty and Carolyn Martin remain a wound that never fully healed. They represent not just unsolved homicides but a loss of innocence for Oakland, a reminder that evil can invade even the most privileged sanctuaries.
The case also raises uncomfortable questions about justice deferred. If DNA evidence still exists and could identify the killer, should it be prioritized despite the case's age? Most witnesses are deceased, the prime suspect is reportedly dead, and any trial would face enormous challenges. Yet somewhere, someone may still know the truth about what happened in that Crocker Highlands home on January 22, 1964.
Hope for Resolution
Despite the passage of time, hope remains that the Martin case might one day be solved. Advances in forensic genealogy have helped crack other decades-old cold cases. The emergence of new witnesses, deathbed confessions, or previously overlooked evidence could provide the breakthrough needed.
For now, Betty and Carolyn Martin remain frozen in time—a mother and daughter whose lives were cut short by a killer who left his signature in their positioning but never faced justice for his crimes. Their case stands as a reminder of both the potential for human evil and the enduring quest for truth, no matter how many years pass.
As Oakland continues to grapple with violence and unsolved crimes, the Martin murders remain perhaps its most haunting cold case—a crime that shattered a family, terrorized a community, and left questions that six decades have failed to answer. Until those answers come, Betty and Carolyn Martin deserve what Susan, Dr. Martin, and their community have sought since that terrible January day: justice, closure, and peace.
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