Leonard Lake, Charles Ng and the Bunker of Horror

“I am a dangerous person. Society would be worried if they knew I existed and what I was up to.”
^{From the diary of Leonard Lake}

*

It is a coincidence that sets things in motion. John Kallas was driving to the “South City Lumber & Supply” hardware store in South San Francisco on his day off when he saw this Asian man there: in his early 20s, wearing thick glasses and wrapped in a heavy parka that seems a bit too warm for this mild summer day. He is carrying a heavy vice in his hands. He doesn’t take it to the cash register, however, but marches straight past Kallas and out the front door.

Kallas, a reserve officer with the South San Francisco Police Department, follows the thief who threw the vise into his gold Honda Prelude. The man runs off on foot. Kallas calls his colleagues.

Sunday, June 2, 1985, early afternoon.

It is instinct that gets things rolling. A strange gut feeling tells Officer Daniel Wright, who has rushed over, that something is not right about this other guy who storms out of the store towards them a short time later: around 40, full beard, bald head and visibly upset. He says he doesn’t want any trouble. He has already requested the bill for the vise. But instead of letting the matter rest, Officer Wright asks the man for his papers.

Scott Stapley is written on the driver’s license. The license plate of the Honda belongs to a Buick. Wright had previously discovered a .22 Ruger semi-automatic pistol and a silencer in the car, which is illegal in California. The officer handcuffs the man.

At the police headquarters, Wright and his colleagues ask Scott Stapley for his date of birth, but he cannot give it. Busted. He asks for a pen and paper. “Dear Lyn. I love you. I forgive you. Freedom is the most important thing,” he scribbles on the piece of paper. “I’m sorry for all the inconvenience. Love, Leonard.” He puts the piece of paper in his breast pocket. After that, he is a different person.