had no permanent police chief. As a result, it took weeks for police to locate Watts, and then little, if any, surveillance was conducted.

Watts took advantage of his new freedom. Nightly he would cruise the freeways and side streets until he spotted a woman he believed to have "evil eyes" and then follow her home. He would wait until she had placed her key in the door, then grab her from behind, choke her into semiconsciousness and drag her inside. He stabbed, strangled or drowned his victims, and over the next 11 months he killed nine in Houston, one in Brookshire, one in Austin and one in Galveston. He rarely took anything from a victim, and he never raped or sexually molested one.

Then, it all culminated on the night of May 22, 1982. At some point that evening, Watts drowned Michele Maday, 20, in her bathtub. He left that scene and was soon hunting again when he happened on Lori Lister, who was entering her apartment in the early dawn. Watts choked Lister, then dragged her into her apartment. He had filled the tub and was in the process of drowning Lister when he was surprised by her roommate, Melinda Aguilar. Aguilar escaped, screaming for help, and in the ensuing confusion, Watts was arrested. Within hours he had hired an attorney, Zinetta Burney, who was aghast when her client, apparently believing police had a better case against him than they did, revealed to her that he had killed a string of women. "There's something evil in the man," Burney later recalled. "He never threatened me. He was always quiet and polite to me, but he scared me more than anyone I've ever dealt with." Burney began wearing a crucifix to her meetings with Watts , but she didn't stop working on his behalf. She cobbled an agreement with Assistant District Attorneys Jack Frels and Ira Jones that resulted in Watts ' pleading guilty to burglary with intent to commit murder in exchange for the 60-year sentence and immunity in the slayings to which he had confessed. Travis and Galveston counties and one county in Michigan made similar agreements, though others declined.

The burglary charge was considered aggravated because the water in which Watts was attempting to drown Lister was construed to be a deadly weapon, leaving Watts ineligible for parole. Watts began detailing the killings he had committed since coming to Texas. He alluded to others as well, though he was not as explicit. At his last interrogation by police, he admitted to more than 80 slayings, though he refused to give specifics in any crime for which he was not offered immunity. Watts has never granted a media interview, and he did not respond to a request to be interviewed for this story.

Many families of victims, already angered at the failure by police to monitor Watts , were doubly offended at the immunity agreement. "I've taken a lot of grief over that plea bargain over the years," said former Harris County District Attorney Johnny Holmes. "But we had absolutely no evidence in these murders. We could never have tried him on any of them, and it was the only thing we could do."

Two mistakes occurred, however. One was in Watts' favor. Shaver failed to specify the water as a deadly weapon in the court record. The other mistake may work against Watts : Investigators mistakenly placed the killing of Emily LaQua, 14, in Harris County.  The first mistake allowed Watts to appeal his conviction, and in 1989 the Texas Court of Criminal Appeals reduced his crime to burglary because there was no evidence a deadly weapon had been used. The decision made Watts eligible for parole, good time, bonus time (for acts such as donating blood) and, eventually, release.

The second error could work against Watts . The LaQua slaying occurred in Waller County, placing it outside the immunity blanket Watts received from Harris County prosecutors. That leaves Watts vulnerable in the LaQua slaying if evidence other than his confession can be found. The science of DNA, in its infancy in 1982, might be applied if a single hair from Watts ' head was left on LaQua's clothing. That evidence, however, has been misplaced. Sherry Robinson, Waller County district attorney since 1993, is now attempting to locate LaQua's clothing, which disappeared from the Brookshire Police Department shortly after LaQua's body was recovered. "We think it's in the Department of Public Safety lab (in Austin)," said Robinson. "We just haven't been able to locate it there."

In Seattle, Elizabeth Young, LaQua's mother, was shocked to learn that the evidence in her daughter's case was missing, that Watts ' sentence had been reduced and that he had been scheduled for release. In Grosse Pointe, Mich., Michael Clyne, the widower of one of Watts' victims and a suspect in his wife's slaying until Watts confessed, similarly was unaware of Watts ' impending freedom. So were Beverly Searles of Des Moines, Iowa; Phyllis Tamm of Memphis, Tenn.; and Laura Allen of Dallas, all mothers whose daughters were killed by Watts. In Waltham, Mass., Jane Montgomery has kept abreast of developments in Watts' case, as has Harriet Semander of Houston. Both lost daughters to Watts, and both have been active in opposing his release. Many of those survivors, already ired over the original handling of the Watts case, are further exasperated at the thought that he could go free.

Several plan to attend a rally Aug. 3 in Houston, organized by Kahan, the mayor's victims' advocate. There, survivors will attend a memorial service and pass a petition that will ask the governor to form a committee to study Watts ' case and come up with a way to prevent his release. "The purpose of this rally is twofold," said Kahan. "We want to draw attention to Watts before his release date draws too near, and we want to bring some pressure on the Legislature. "That's one reason we're starting now. It's a slow process to