In 2009, Maitrice Richardson was released from the Malibu Lost Hill Sheriff's station, and she never made it home. Nearly a year later, Maitrice's remains were found in a canyon 6 miles from the station. Her death is Malibu's greatest unsolved mystery. I'm Dana Goodyear in Lost Hills Dark Canyon. What happened to Maitrice Richardson? Listen on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you listen to podcasts.

Kay hasn't heard from her sister in seven years. I have a proposal for you. Come up here and document my project. All you need to do is record everything like you always do. What was that? That was live audio of a woman's nightmare. Can Kay trust her sister, or is history repeating itself? There's nothing dangerous about what you're doing. They're just dreams. Dream Sequence is a new horror thriller from Blumhouse television, iHeartRadio, and realm. Listen to dream sequence on the iHeartRadio Apple podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts.

Last time on snafu, we cased the.

Place for at least two, maybe three months.

I just felt like I was living in the heart of the dragon, and it was just my job to stop the fire.

There were no cameras. There were no alarms over the doors. I couldn't see any security measures whatsoever.

Somebody, it wasn't me. Somebody suggested, what about the night of the Ali Fraser fight? And it was like a brilliant suggestion.

In 1971, Muhammad Ali was the most famous athlete in the world. He was an undefeated boxing champion who just happened to be facing jail time.

How do you stand now with the possibility of going to jail?

Oh, I don't know. I'm just waiting. Any day now. After refusing to serve in Vietnam as a conscientious objector to the war, Ali had been stripped of his heavyweight championship title. He had his boxing license revoked and was banned from the sport by the boxing commission. He was convicted of draft evasion and sentenced to five years in prison. He stayed out of prison while he appealed the conviction to the supreme Court. Ali being Ali, wasn't going down without a fight. White America right now is spending $30 million a day in Asia. Black and white boys are dying unjustly for nothing just to free somebody else. So why should I worry about going to little old jail to free my people who's been catching hell here for 400 years? While Ali was away from the ring, Joe Frazier had taken the heavyweight title belt. But on the night of March 8, 1971, a reinstated Ali would finally have his chance to take it back. And the big fight is coming up. Ali and Frazier. Muhammad Ali. That's George Carlin on the Ed Sullivan show. Of course, the anti establishment icon had something to say about the big fight, but it's good that he's being allowed to work again.

As you know, he couldn't work for three years. Of course, he had a strange job beating people up, but that was his, you know, he's right. He could have that job. Government wanted him to change jobs. Government wanted him to kill people. He thought it over and he said, no, that's where I draw the line. I'll beat him up and I don't want to kill him. And the government told him, well, if you won't kill him, we won't let you beat him up. During his hiatus, Ali had become a vocal activist, a hero to the anti war movement. Frazier, meanwhile, was embraced by supporters of the war. Among Frazier's biggest fans, President Richard Nixon. Before the fight, Frazier and Nixon even met up at the White House. And Smokin Joe Frazier promised the president that he'd give his draft dodging rival a, quote, good old beatdown. And so the fight of the century crescendoed into something bigger than just a contest between two athletes. Society at large turned it into a proxy battle between those who supported the war in Vietnam and those who opposed it. On March 8, 1971, anti war activists prayed for an Ali victory.

And on that same night, 100 miles away, John and Bonnie Raines prepared for their own fight against the war.

The kids had no reason to be suspicious that anything that was not normal was going on. They had no reason to suspect anything at all. It was just another meeting that mom and dad were going to.

But this wasn't just another meeting, because this time, the reinses knew they might not come back.

We were very, very worried about what would happen to our children if we were arrested, put in prison. So in planning for that possibility, we talked to John's brother Bob and his wife and my parents about this jeopardy that we were going to encounter. We had to have them reassure us that the children would be taken care of if we were in federal prison.

Through dinner, John felt sick to his stomach as he contemplated the possibility that both he and Bonnie could be arrested that night. He would later say that if Bonnie had suggested that they drop out now, he would have agreed. A part of him maybe even hoped that she would back out. But Bonnie didn't waver. And now it was time to leave. The babysitter arrived. John and Bonnie cleared the table. They kissed their kids and told them good night. They stepped out into the cool night air, got into their old maroon station wagon, and drove off towards media. Come morning, would they be back at the breakfast table with their children, as they hoped? Or locked away in a jail cell? I'm Ed Helms, and this is Snafu, a show about history's greatest screw ups. This is season two, Medburg, the story of a daring heist. And the colossal FBI snafu it exposed this week. The burglary, a Holiday inn off an exit ramp 2 miles from media, became the citizens Commission's command center for the night of March 8.

That was our base of operations. It had a phone because, you know, remember, this was long before cell phones, and we didn't really think walkie talkies were secure.

We had to be careful not to alert the motel people that there was, you know, seven or eight people in this room. At that point, there was a lot of nervous tension, excitement.

One final time, the eight burglars talked through their plans for the burglary and each of their roles. There were four phases to the heist. Phase one, the break in. Keith, barely 20 years old and having mastered the art of lock picking, would embark on his solo mission, putting his assiduously honed lock picking skills to the test.

My job was to get the door open by myself, and then I leave. And then the inside crew comes in.

Phase two belonged to the inside crew, which included Ralph, the graduate student, Sarah Schumer, the professor, Bob Williamson, the social worker and jokester, and Judy Feingold, the 19 year old professional pacifist. This foursome would enter the unlocked office carrying empty suitcases. Once inside, their job was pretty simple stuff, every file they could get their hands on into those suitcases. Oh, yeah, and don't get caught. And if there were cops out on patrol, Bonnie was standing by, ready with a distraction.

They would have seen the hood up and just assumed that I. I was a damsel in distressed.

Phase three, the getaway. The inside team would exit the building, suitcases in hand, and load them into the two getaway cars. Then they'd drive to Swarthmore College, where John Rains would be waiting in the family station wagon.

We would transfer the suitcases into our family station wagon.

Switching vehicles would create a smoke screen for anyone who might be on their trail. Through all this, their fearless leader, physicist, and father of two, Bill Davidon, would stay stationed at the motel, calling the shots from mission control, coordinating departure times, answering calls, making any necessary snap decisions. Bill's philosophy, keep it simple.

Just sort of check on readiness of everything was the role that I played. I rented a car for the day.

Bill had booked the car rental using his own name and real driver's license. He'd reserved the motel room under his own name, too. It was part of his strategy to avoid a cloak and dagger vibe, which had the potential to attract attention in and of itself. Last up, the final phase of any heist, counting the money, or in this case, analyzing the documents, would they find just a bunch of legitimate case files or records of nefarious political surveillance? Start to finish, they estimated the job would take about 2 hours. With this kind of meticulous planning, what could possibly go wrong?

We had picked a time to begin the action, timing it to begin with the Ollie Frazier fight.

By 08:00 in New York City, Manhattan was gridlocked, with tens of thousands descending upon Madison Square garden. Uncle mohammed, today is my birthday, and my maiden name is Clay. She's gonna win right off. I bet I'll frase you, but I want clay to win. The red carpet into the arena was bursting with celebrities in zoot suits, mink hats, full length fur coats. Remember, it was the seventies. Who's gonna win the fight?

Well, it's gonna be a great fight, mom and Ali.

That prediction was courtesy of Diana Ross, just one of 20,000 fans squeezing into the arena. With the eyes of the world focused on Madison Square Garden, Bill Davidon gave the green light. Phase one of the media burglary began. John departed for Swarthmore to wait for the handoff. Heath headed straight for the FBI office, lock picking tools in hand. Inside Madison Square Garden, Muhammad Ali faced the cameras. The hour of truth has arrived. Dressed in an iconic red robe that would later sell at auction for a million bucks, the hour of truth also arrived for Keith, who pulled into media wearing his dollar five secondhand sport coat.

Keith joked that he had to get a haircut, and Bill directed him to a thrift store on the main line, where he got a Brooks brothers sport coat for $5. He was very proud of that.

The burglars understood they couldn't draw attention to themselves looking like anti war hippies. They needed to blend in.

It was March, so I had a trench coat, and then I could put some, some small tools in the pocket of that without being. Obviously.

Keith arrived at one veterans Square. He glocked his surroundings, not a soul in sight except the security guard at the courthouse across the street. But that was perfectly normal.

So I went in, went through the front door, went up the stairs.

He was careful to tread lightly.

The building manager lived in the apartment directly underneath the FBI office.

Robert Keith was relieved to hear sounds from what he assumed was the fight broadcast emanating from downstairs.

So I went to the door, mister confident, and there's a second lock on the door that wasn't there, like, two weeks before. I mean, I just about had a heart attack. Not only was there a second lock, but it wasn't a front door type lock. It was cylindrical tumbler lock, which a, it's much harder than a regular lock, and b, you can't do it with the kind of tools I had. You need a special tool.

And now Keith was feeling like a real special tool for not bringing one.

You know, your mind, you always go to the worst thing first. Either they know we're coming, and if they know we're coming, the only way they can know we're coming is if we've got a leak. So somebody's talking if there's a leak.

Keith's mind went straight to burglar number nine. Number nine, the man who abruptly ditched the group a week earlier. Could he have turned into an informant for the FBI, or was he one all along? Keith imagined a brigade of armed agents right on the other side of the door waiting for him.

I, like, took some deep breaths, and I'm like, all we know is that there's a new lock on the door. That's the only thing we know for sure. And the only other thing we know for sure is that I cannot pick this lock tonight. So I just turned around and went out and I used a payphone to call the room. I would love to have a tape of that call, because I'm not sure how much sense I made since I.

Was at the motel. I knew from Keith's phone call that there were problems.

There's one of the people on the call, and he said something like, we might have to cancel or reschedule the event because we can't get in.

It was like, oh, shit. You know, this is just terrible. It was a huge letdown. I think there probably was a few minutes when we thought we had to, had to give up. I mean, there was just no plan b.

The burglars were crestfallen. They looked to their leader, Bill Davidon. He was not ready to give up. After all, there was no conclusive evidence that the FBI was onto them.

We got this far, and we're just not going to give up. We're going to figure out something else. And that's when I remembered the second door.

She said, well, what about the other door. And I'm like, oh, yeah, the other door. Did that have a high security lock on it? No, it just has the regular lock. And, you know, there's some cabinet or something on the other side of it.

In fact, it was a ginormous filing cabinet. Bonnie had seen it during her casing mission.

And that gave me the chance to see another door from the hallway in that third office and that the door was blocked by this huge metal file cabinet.

But now that door might be their only hope.

So I go back, I go up to the second door, and I could tell already before I even picked the lock that there was a deadbolt on the door. I had a short 16 inch pry bar with me, so that wasn't going to be a problem. But the only thing that worried me is that I could hear sounds coming from the room directly underneath me.

Now let's turn back to the instant play. For minute 35 in.

I used the crowd noise to my advantage. When I popped the deadbolt, I waited for a loud moment to do that. So I put the pry bar in the jam, and I, you know, snap the deadbolt off all at once. It seemed quite loud to me. And then I just stood there and.

Listened, listening, listening, and thank God, not a peep from the building manager.

I pushed the door, and it went, like, an inch and stopped. And so I could feel that it was the doorknob that was hitting something heavy. So I put my pry bar in and tried to scoot it, and I couldn't get it to budge. I was like, oh, shit, now what am I going to do? And then I thought, well, obviously I need more leverage, and I've got a jack in the car. I put it in the door jamb and started to move it, and whatever that was on the other side started to tip over. I was like, oh, shit. Because if it fell, that would have been the end, because it would have been loud. The guy downstairs definitely would have heard that. You're not going to come up with a cover story to cover that one. So I quickly backed off.

Keep in mind, any of the building residents could have walked by at any moment.

And so I laid down on the floor of the hall and worked the jack stand in there against the bottom of the thing and started moving it. And you could only move it, like, a fraction of an inch at a time. I was basically laying on the floor of the hallway with my feet against one side of the hall, you know, working on this lever and slowly moving.

It away for what seemed like an eternity. Keith was sprawled across the floor in the hallway outside the FBI office in a position that can only be described as a cartoon caricature of a cat burglar.

At some point during the whole process, I heard a banging noise inside, and that stopped me for a second. I'm like, well, that was either the FBI or the heating system, and there's only one way to find out which.

We were all probably watching our watches because it was taking so much more time than we expected it to. I don't think I cried, but we were so worried about Keith. We were really worried about his safety, so just worked.

It worked. It worked. It worked. It worked. It finally got it enough that I could squeeze in, so luckily, I'm not very wide. So.

He squeezed through the door and immediately took in his surroundings. The office was dark and, to his relief, empty. There was no crew of FBI agents with guns drawn.

I taped the door so it wouldn't relock and pulled it close and left. Then I called him and said hello.

Next.

Against all odds and a ridiculously large filing cabinet, Keith prevailed.

I imagined myself in that situation, and I honestly do not think that I would have risen to the occasion the way that he did.

It was just a huge, huge relief. So I think we had a little guardian angel on our side, maybe.

Next. Phase two. The inside crew enters the office.

On September 17, 2000, 924 year old Maitrice Richardson was released from the Malibu Lost Hill sheriff's station. She had no money, no phone, and no ride. She walked out of the station and into the night, and she never made it home. Nearly a year later, Maitrice's naked, skeletonized remains were discovered in a canyon 6 miles from the station. I'm Dana Goodyear. Five years ago, I started reporting on the Maitrice Richardson case. Everyone knows something horrible happened to my trace. Nothing about her case makes sense, and for 15 years, the sheriff's department has failed to solve it. In Lost Hills, Dark Canyon, we are investigating what happened to Maitrice Richardson. Listen to Lost Hills, Dark Canyon on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you listen to podcasts.

Back in 1969, this was the hottest song around. So hot that some guys from Michigan tried to steal it. My name is Daniel Ralston. For ten years, I've been obsessed with one of the most bizarre and audacious cons in rock'n roll history.

A group would have a hit record, and quickly they would hire a bunch of guys to go out and be the group. People were being cheated on several levels.

After years of searching, we bring you the true story of the fake zombies.

I was, like, blown away. These guys are not going to get away with it.

Listen to the true story of the fake zombies on the I heart radio Apple podcast, or wherever you get your podcasts.

I'm Andrea Gunning, host of the all new podcast, there and gone. It's a real life story of two people who left a crowded Philadelphia bar, walked to their truck, and vanished.

Nobody hears anything. Nobody sees anything.

Did they run away? Was it an accident, or were they murdered?

A truck and two people just. Just don't disappear.

The FBI called it murder for hire.

It was definitely murder for hire for Danielle, not for Richard.

He's your son, and in your eyes, he's innocent. But in my eyes, he's just some guy my sister was with.

In this series, I dig into my own investigation to find answers for the families and get justice for Richard and Danielle. Listen to Theron gone South street on the I Heart radio app, Apple podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts.

The door to the FBI office was now open. It was approaching 11:00 p.m. at Madison Square Garden. Ali and Frazier were still slugging it out. Our burglars and media were behind schedule, way behind. John rains, sitting in a parking lot in Swarthmore, was starting to sweat. He wondered why the hell they were taking so long.

He thinks they've been busted. I mean, he's. That's what he's. He's having a nervous breakdown.

Back in media, the inside crew was just arriving at the office building.

The men had suits and the women were dressed up. You know, we wanted to make it look like maybe we were visiting or that we were going on a vacation or something like that. And that's why we had suitcases.

I remember thinking, I'm not breathing, but I've got to be breathing because I'm functioning. I can just imagine, you know, some FBI guy sitting in the media office, right? And he decides to work late because maybe he wants to watch the fight, and his wife won't let him watch the fight, right? So he's sitting in the office, and we all break in, right? The four of us break in. He'll shoot us. What do you think he's gonna do? He's got a gun.

I remember the tight squeeze getting past the cabinet through the door. But we all did that, no problem. Once we were in there, we shut the door.

I think the real senator was like, holy shit, we are really here. This is really happening. This is phenomenal. And in some ways unbelievable. I was like, let's get the job done.

I had a little flashlight, but we taped it up with black electrical tape so that only a little pinpoint of a hole was allowing light through.

They gingerly crept through the office, opening every desk drawer and cabinet they could find. Thousands of top secret and confidential files just sitting there, ripe for the taking.

I think we're talking about the range of 20 minutes inside.

That's Sarah Schumer.

The focus was on doing it as quickly as possible and making as little noise as possible and being as undetected as possible and to get out of there as quickly as possible.

Apart from one small safe they couldn't unlock, they cleaned the place out, stuffing the suitcases until all the files were removed. Periodically, Bob walked over to the window to see if the guard at the courthouse across the street was looking their way. He never was. With the files packed up, it was time to get out of dodge. So they called the getaway cars. And just to add a little insult to injury, they used the FBI office phone.

And it was just a one word thing, like a prearranged code word to let them know we were ready. So we knew we had ten more minutes. Ralph saw this big teletype machine, giant machine, that it was a means of communication between that office and the rest of the FBI system, particularly in Washington. I mean, it was a direct line to Washington, but the cord on this thing was the biggest cord I think I've ever seen. And we had a pair of bolt cutters, so he wanted to disable the machine by cutting the cord, which was plugged into a live socket. And I was a little nervous about that. I tried to talk him out of it, but he insisted. There's sparks going all over the place. It was quite a show there for about 5 seconds.

There was a photo on the wall of hoover, and one of the burglars slid the photo out of the frame and took it with them for a souvenir.

Cut the communication cord and grab the portrait of the head honcho on your way out the door. Now that's how you leave a heist, with style. Next, phase three, the getaway.

On September 17, 2000, 924 year old Maitrice Richardson was released from the Malibu lost Hill sheriff's station. She had no money, no phone, and no ride. She walked out of the station and into the night, and she never made it home. Nearly a year later, Maitrice's naked, skeletonized remains were discovered in a canyon 6 miles from the station. I'm Dana Goodyear five years ago, I started reporting on the mytrice Richardson case. Everyone knows something horrible happened to my trace. Nothing about her case makes sense, and for 15 years, the sheriff's department has failed to solve it. In Lost Hills, Dark Canyon, we are investigating what happened to maitrice Richardson. Listen to Lost Hills, Dark Canyon on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you listen to podcasts.

Back in 1969, this was the hottest song around. So hot that some guys from Michigan tried to steal it. My name is Daniel Ralston. For ten years, I've been obsessed with one of the most bizarre and audacious cons in rock and roll history.

A group would have a hit record, and quickly they would hire a bunch of guys to go out and be the group. People were being cheated on several levels.

After years of searching, we bring you the true story of the fake zombies.

I was, like, blown away. These guys are not going to get away with it.

Listen to the true story of the fake zombies on the I heart radio app, Apple podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts.

I'm Andrea Gunning, host of the all new podcast there and gone. It's a real life story of two people who left a crowded Philadelphia bar, walked to their truck, and vanished.

Nobody hears anything. Nobody sees anything.

Did they run away? Was it an accident, or were they murdered?

A truck and two people just don't disappear.

The FBI called it murder for Hirever.

It was definitely murder for hire for Danielle, not for Richard.

He's your son, and in your eyes, he's innocent. But in my eyes, he's just some guy my sister was with.

In this series, I dig into my own investigation to find answers for the families and get justice for Richard and Danielle.

Hola, dino.

Listen to Theron gone south street on the I heart radio, apple podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts.

That's the end of round 14, and what another great round it was. Now, if you look over at Joe's corner, there's something wrong with his face. The fight of the century was living up to its billing. The first championship fight ever between two undefeated heavyweights had become an epic, bloody slugfest. Then, in the 15th round, a jaw dropping turning point. That gasp you hear, that's the sound of tens of thousands of fans who can't believe what they just saw. A brutal left hook from Frazier and Ali tumbling to the mat, the only knock down of the fight. Muhammad Ali was flat on his back, but he's a well conditioned athlete.

However, he is real tired.

Meanwhile, in media, two men and two women strolled out of an office building at one veterans square, each carrying two full suitcases. Keith watched from his car. He looked across the street, and his heart stopped. Someone was looking directly at the burglars leaving the building.

The security guard in the courthouse. The front door of the courthouse is glass, and he's standing right inside the glass, looking directly across the street in our direction, just standing there with his hands folded, looking right. And he is a security guard, of course. So he's supposed to be watching for stuff. And here comes the inside crew out the door, each carrying two suitcases full of FBI files and the guys watching them.

For a tense moment, Keith watched the guard watching the burglars. And then. Nothing.

I used to joke to my kids, there's a very important object lesson there. If you're a white man in a suit, you can get away with anything. I just got in the backseat of the car and just, you know, breathed a huge sigh of relief. And we're all excited, too, you know, in the car. Once we got in the car on the road, we're like, at least I was just complete relaxation with some euphoria along with it.

The two getaway cars zoomed off in different directions. One headed straight for the farmhouse, the other to Swarthmore College, where John Rains was starting to panic. The drop off should have happened by now. It had been hours. John was now convinced that something had gone horribly wrong and that he and Bonnie wouldn't be back for dinner with the kids for a very long time. Then suddenly, headlights emerged from the darkness. John held his breath. Was it campus security?

The cops?

The car rolled up next to his, and the door opened. Bonnie stepped out, and John exhaled, relief washing over him. He jumped out of his car.

We hugged and we laughed a little bit.

They worked fast, transferring the suitcases from Bonnie's getaway car to the reins station wagon. Then it was off to the final rally point. The farmhouse.

I drove and we took backroads, you know? And by then, it was the middle of the night. I was really jacked up. Like, can you believe it? We pulled it off without a single hitch.

I don't know. Without a hitch might be stretching it a little, given the whole lock fiasco. But considering what could have gone wrong. Yeah, you bet.

We were feeling incredibly relieved. And also a lot of adrenaline was flowing. A lot of adrenaline was flowing.

It was nearing midnight, and inside Madison Square Garden, it was bedlam.

The ring is starting to cloud up.

The fight was over. It was pandemonium. As the judges revealed their decision. For the first time ever in his professional career, Muhammad Ali lost. His supporters around the world were shattered. Well, here we are in Madison Square Garden. The people are still standing around. Nobody seems to want to go home. I think everybody has been treated to one of the greatest fighting evenings they've ever seen. The crowd is getting to be very orderly now. They're quieting down for a while there. They look like we're going to tear the place up. As the world processed Ali's defeat, the burglars in their various cars were headed north. The drive took them through suburban neighborhoods and along dark, winding country roads. The drivers and passengers kept a wary eye on their rearview mirrors, constantly glancing behind them, wondering if they were being followed. It took an hour to reach their safe house.

I was familiar with the farm just from knowing the people there over the years.

It was part of a Quaker retreat conference center, kind of out in the country.

I had made arrangements for the use of the farm.

Fellowship farm was a meeting place for local activists. A young Martin Luther King had even visited once. It was isolated and surrounded by woods. One by one, the cars pulled up to the house. To their relief, no one had been stopped on the way. All eight were safe and sound.

Once I realized that everything was working okay and that the other cars involved were okay, then there's a relaxation.

I was just. Whew. Certainly I was relieved, you know, here we were. Everybody was there. There were no police.

Oh, my God, that was beautiful. I mean, you're in the country. You put our sleeping bags down, and it's not that anybody slept. It was because we were all so punchy and the adrenaline was just going.

We were just trying to come down, down, down from being up, up, up, and hyped and feeling relieved that we were successful.

After the fight in New York, Frazier fans and the war hawks celebrated President Nixon, who watched the fight in a private screening room at the White House, reportedly jumped up and down cheering the defeat of, quote, that draft dodger asshole. Meanwhile, Ali supporters were devastated. But it's nothing to cry and complain about. You know, I've been always handing out the defeat, so now I'm defeated, and now I can see how other people felt. And when I do come back, if I ever do, I'll have a more of a hungrier determination, which is something. The loss was crushing not only for Ali, but also for his millions of fans in the anti war movement. They had no way of knowing that about 100 miles away, they might have just won an even bigger victory.

Oh, yeah, we had a little champagne. Then there was this tension about what we would actually find in those documents.

The Citizens Commission to investigate the FBI had risked everything to remove all the files from the media FBI office. And now they were about to find out if it had all been worth it.

It didn't take long before someone in the other room, holy mackerel.

You're not going to believe this.

Next time on Snafu.

We had some idea that this was pretty explosive.

I went downstairs and my visitors were these two FBI agents, and, you know, they suggested that we go outside and talk.

And then the next morning I got a phone call from the FBI that they wanted to interview me.

Snafu is a production of iHeartRadio film Nation entertainment and Pacific Electric Picture company. In association with Gilded Audio. This season of Snafu is based on the book the the Discovery of J. Edgar Hoover's Secret FBI, written by Betty Metzger. It's executive produced by me, Ed Helms, Milan Popelka, Mike Valbo, Whitney Donaldson, Andy Chugg, Dylan Fagan, and Betty Metzger. Our lead producers are Sarah Joyner and Alyssa Martino. Producer is Stephen Wood. This episode was written by Albert Chen, Sarah Joyner and Stephen Wood, with additional writing and story editing from Alyssa Martino and Ed Helms. Tori Smith is our associate producer. Nevan Calipoli is our production assistant. Facts checking by Charles Richter. Our creative executive is Bret Harris. Sensitivity consult from Olowakemi alla Dasui. Editing, sound design and original music by Ben Chugg. Engineering and technical direction by Nick Dooley. Additional editing from Kelsey Albright, Olivia Caney, and Gemma Castelli Foley. Theme music by Dan Rosado. Special thanks to Allison Cohen, Daniel Welch, and Ben Rezak. Additional thanks to director Joanna Hamilton for letting us use some of the original interviews from her incredible documentary 1971. Finally, our deepest gratitude to the Courageous Citizens Commission to investigate the FBI.

Bill Davidon, Ralph Daniel, Judy Feingold, Heath Forsythe, Bonnie Rains, John Rains, Sarah Schumer and Bob Williamson.

In 2009, Maitrice Richardson was released from the Malibu Lost Hill Sheriff station and she never made it home. Nearly a year later, Maitrice's remains were found in a canyon 6 miles from the station. Her death is Malibu's greatest unsolved mystery. I'm Dana Goodyear in Los Hills. Dark canyon. What happened to my Treece Richardson? Listen on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you listen to podcasts.

Kay hasn't heard from her sister in seven years. I have a proposal for you. Come up here and document my project. All you need to do is record everything like you always do. What was that? That was live audio of a woman's nightmare. Can Kay trust her sister or is history repeating itself? There's nothing dangerous about what you're doing. They're just dreams. Dream sequence is a new horror thriller from Blumhouse television. I heart radio and realm. Listen to dream sequence on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts.