Sacramento, California, 1976. A man was moving through the suburbs at night, breaking into homes while couples slept. He wore a ski mask. He spoke through clenched teeth to disguise his voice. He was a police officer. He knew exactly [music] what he was doing. 13 murders, 51 rapes, more than 100 burglaries, 12 years across three California jurisdictions. Three separate agencies called them three different names. They were all hunting the same man. But what he did after was different from every other case. He called his victims back [music] years later on the phone to remind them he was still free, still out there, still thinking about them. The last confirmed attack, 1986. For 32 years after, he lived in a suburb [music] of Sacramento, a grandfather, a truck mechanic. In 2017, investigator Paul Holes sat outside [music] his house on the day before retirement. He drove away without knocking. Instead, investigators uploaded the killer's DNA to a public genealogy website. A family tree of 1,000 people narrowed to [music] two suspects, then to one. Joseph James [music] DeAngelo, age 72. They collected DNA from a tissue in his [music] curbside trash can. It matched every crime scene from 44 years of attacks. After his arrest, alone in an interview room, DeAngelo said to himself, "I did [music] all those things. I destroyed all those lives." In August 2020, at a university gymnasium [music] because there were too many victims to fit, he received 11 consecutive life sentences. He stood up [music] and said he was sorry. The victims he called years later to remind them he was still [music] free spent decades afraid to answer the phone. If you need help, reach out. You are not alone. He collected his own DNA into a tissue [music] and left it on the curb. What kind of person calls their victim a decade later just to breathe?