Diane King: An Anchor Silenced

A Newscaster Becomes the Story
(“News at 11,” Forensic Files)

Bradford J. King had a halfway decent career as a part-time professor, but he didn’t harbor aspirations of rising much higher.

He didn’t have to. He had a wife in a high-paying profession. Diane King was a morning anchor at station WUHQ-TV in Battle Creek, Michigan.

For Brad, her salary meant a comfortable life and sharing in her perks, including a company-paid rafting trip and occasional meet-and-greets with B-list celebs like Ted Nugent.

Party’s over. Brad’s uncluttered work schedule also allowed him plenty of free time to socialize outside the marriage.

That little arrangement threatened to come undone, however, because Diane, 34, wanted to quit her job and stay at home with the couple’s 3-month-old daughter, Kateri, and 3-year-old son, Marler.

Like so many other Forensic Files bad guys, Brad, 44, decided on murder and insurance fraud instead of divorce and starting over — and believed he could outfox the law.

For this week, I looked into where Brad is today and what happened to the children. But first, here’s a recap of “News at 11,” the Forensic Files episode about the case, along with additional information drawn from internet research:

Native American heritage. Diane Marler was born in Detroit on April 4, 1956, one of five children. She later took her stepfather’s last name, Newton. She served in the army’s signal corps and earned a bachelor’s degree in communications from Wayne State University.

A member of the Mohawk Nation, Diane wanted to one day make documentaries about Native American people, according to a newspaper account. She also thought about capitalizing on her striking features with modeling work.

In 1984, she married Bradford King, a divorced father of a teenage daughter named Alissa.

Brad had first declared his love for Diane at an EST meeting in Colorado. At their subsequent wedding, she pledged herself “to having this marriage be magical and fun,” according to the book The Eye of the Beholder: The Almost Perfect Murder of Anchorwoman Diane Newton King by Lowell Cauffiel.

The couple eventually moved from Denver to a rented house with a rustic barn on Division Street in Marshall, Michigan.

In addition to her job at WUHQ-TV in nearby Battle Creek, Diane helped out at a local soup kitchen and did volunteer work with disadvantaged children.

Laboring in academia. Brad had been a police officer in Pontiac, Michigan, from 1969 to 1983. After that, his job history gets a little patchy. At some point, he earned a degree in criminal justice and then taught college classes on the subject.

He was dismissed from an instructor job at Western Michigan University because he was “unable to meet his class on two occasions,” according to a Battle Creek Enquirer story from Feb. 1, 1992.

Although media accounts vary on Brad’s job status around the time of the murder, one source reported that he was entirely unemployed by the winter of 1991.

Diane’s career in broadcast journalism was sturdy thanks to her diligence in researching stories and her telegenic voice and appearance.

Bad hombre. Michael Moran, a colleague from Diane’s previous job at station KJCT in Grand Junction, Colorado, would later describe her as at times “abrasive and pushy” and “domineering,” according to a Battle Creek Enquirer story following the murder.

Maybe Diane was a bit difficult, but it’s also possible that a man with those same qualities would be described as a go-getter with a commanding presence.

Whatever the case, her work was well-regarded in the industry and community.

Precautions failed. Unfortunately, an anonymous fan admired her so much that he began leaving disturbing messages for her. She eventually received the kind of letter usually seen only on 1970s detective shows — with lettering cut from magazines and then pasted on paper. “You’ll be sorry you didn’t have lunch with me,” it read.

That threat rattled Diane’s nerves, so WUHQ-TV beefed up security around the station. Brad installed extra lighting at home.

But the worst case scenario came true on February 9, 1991, when emergency services received a hysterical-spouse call from Brad, who said he’d found Diane dead in the family’s driveway.

Diane had two bullet wounds, a fatal one to her heart and another in the pelvic area.

Brad said he’d heard shots earlier while he was taking a walk in the woods but figured they came from hunters.

Ginormous story. For the village of Marshall, known for its antiques shops and annual Victorian house tour, it was the first murder in recent memory.

“The cold-blooded killing of a woman in a glamorous, high-profile occupation was a shocking anomaly in this community of 6,800,” the LA Times reported on March, 29, 1992.

It was “Marshall’s crime of the century,” according to Suburban Secrets, a series produced by Court TV and Sirens Media that covered the case in a 2008 episode.

Police began a slow but steady investigation.

Shell game. It was noted that Brad’s anguish over his wife’s death quickly gave way to stoicism, according to Suburban Secrets.

Brad explained that, as a former law officer, he was accustomed to talking about crimes while keeping his emotions in check, according to detective Jim Stadtfeld, who appeared on Suburban Secrets.

At the Kings’ property, police found a shell casing in the loft of the barn, about 70 feet from the driveway.

Investigators wondered why a Doberman pinscher who they believed was in the barn at the time of the shooting, didn’t raise a fuss about an intruder. (Media accounts vary as to whether the dog belonged to the Kings or was “borrowed” from a relative.)

Let’s paws here. The Doberman couldn’t answer any questions for investigators, but the police found another one to help with forensics: Travis the tracker.

The German shepherd followed a scent from the loft through the woods, and then to a .22-caliber Remington Scoremaster rifle discarded in a creek bed. Brad owned the same type of gun, and boot prints that matched his own were found nearby.

Travis then traced the killer’s path back to the spot where Diane died in the driveway.

While investigators were still working on the case, Brad scooped up his two younger children and moved to Colorado, saying he was tired of facing police questioning, the AP reported.

The threesome didn’t get much time to relax. In early 1992, Michigan authorities arrested Brad, charged him with murder, and set bail at $750,000.

He raised the money but ended up stuck in jail because he didn’t meet other conditions for release.

Twin rifles. At the trial, prosecutors contended that Brad had expected Diane to be alone in the car on the day of the murder. The couple had planned on leaving Kateri and Marler with their grandparents for the night. But one of the kids got sick, so she brought them both home.

The prosecution also alleged that Brad was lying about having sold his Scoremaster rifle in 1984. The police found seven witnesses who said they’d seen the gun in Brad’s possession in the intervening years.

Oddly, there was a second Scoremaster to the story. A neighbor said he found one in his attic when he moved to Division Street, but ballistics tests determined it didn’t fire the fatal bullets.

Much ado about nothing. Investigators believed Brad planted the rifle there to deflect suspicion away from himself.

And they suspected Brad sent the threatening note to Diane — and had used cutout letters because she could have identified his handwriting. In fact, the authorities wondered whether the whole stalker saga was a hoax staged by Brad.

The defense suggested that a burglar killed Diane — there was a broken window at the house. But the glass fragments were on the wrong side. Thieves generally break in, not out.

And damning intelligence about Brad’s character started rolling in.

Promiscuous man. Cauffiel, who appeared on Forensic Files, said that Brad, 44, enjoyed hanging around with college kids at a fraternity house and liked doing shots of tequila at Waldo’s, a bar where students drank.

Two students told police that they were having affairs with Brad shortly before the murder, the AP reported on Jan. 6, 1993. One of the liaisons, Anne Hill, 34, said Brad felt cut off from the family’s finances, the Battle Creek Enquirer reported on Nov. 13, 1992. Diane had reportedly frozen their checking account.

Police learned that Brad had set up a date with one of his girlfriends the day after the murder, according to Suburban Secrets.

One of Diane’s sisters, Denise Verrier, said that Diane wanted a divorce — apparently the magic and fun were waning — and Brad was “enraged” by the notion of getting a full-time job and paying child support.

False sense of security. Media accounts didn’t mention the total amount of life insurance payouts Brad had to gain by his wife’s death, but Cauffiel’s book pointed to a $54,000 policy from WUHQ-TV.

In 2011, an online commenter identifying herself as a co-worker of Diane’s said she recalled Brad’s going to the manager’s office to ask when he would get the money.

Prosecutor Jon Sahli contended that on the day of the murder, Brad left a light on inside the house so Diane would think he was home. (Because of the alleged stalker, Diane had been afraid to exit the car without anyone around to protect her.)

Brad waited in the loft, then shot Diane after she pulled into the driveway and emerged from the car, investigators believed.

Kids left at crime scene. Next, he walked over to Diane’s body and shot her at close range — before he realized the kids were in the car — Sahli alleged.

Investigators believed he then returned to the woods and did a quick 180 back to the house to “discover” Diane’s body. He couldn’t wait around for someone else to find it because the kids were strapped in the car on a wintery Michigan day (although Brad reportedly left them in the vehicle while waiting for emergency services).

Cauffiel believed that Brad, with his law enforcement experience, figured he could outwit the police via the fatal attraction-style messages and the decoy gun.

He also portrayed himself as a victim. His lawyer, John Sims, characterized the whole case as “the power of the state arrayed against Bradford King,” the Battle Creek Enquirer reported.

Sorry, no buttoneering. But Judge Conrad Sindt granted many concessions to the defense. He banned one of Diane’s BFF’s from testifying that Diane suspected Brad of having an affair while she was pregnant with Kateri and that he had lost interest in her sexually — it was hearsay, the judge ruled.

Sindt also forbade Diane’s friends and family from wearing buttons with her picture in the courtroom, and ordered her brother Allen Marler to stay away from Brad, who felt “stalked” by him; Marler denied the allegation.

In another win for the defense, Julie Cook, a college student Brad allegedly had an affair with, wasn’t allowed to testify.

But in the end, the jury had heard enough evidence to convict Brad King of first-degree murder. The Detroit Free Press reported that Brad “grabbed the table and appeared pale” when hearing the verdict.

Denise Verrier read a victim impact statement about her nightmares of her sister in the “cold gravel driveway — all alone with only the sound of her crying children to be heard.”

Forensic Files fellas. On Jan. 6, 1993, Brad received life in prison with no possibility of parole.

Today, Brad King occupies a cell in Thumb Correctional Facility in Lapeer, Michigan, the same prison occupied by another Forensic Files wife killer, Michael Fletcher.

The Kings’ small children lived with grandparents during the courtroom proceedings.

Now young adults, both Kateri King and Marler King still live in Michigan.

She works as a nurse assistant and medical technician, and he has a career as a detailing designer in the automotive industry.

Appearance-wise, the kids take after their mother.

And one more update, KJCT-TV ended up firing Michael Moran for publicly trashing Diane King after her she died. He works as a lecturer at Colorado Mesa University today.

Sample the book. In addition to Forensic Files and Suburban Secrets, A&E series City Confidential covered the case in an episode titled “Bad News in Battle Creek.”

You can read generous excerpts of Eye of the Beholder online and scroll through the book’s photos.

That’s all for this post. Until next time, cheers. — RR

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Watch the Forensic Files episode on YouTube of Amazon Prime