Hello, I'm Keith Morrison.

It was a baffling case for detectors, a crime, a suspect, but not enough evidence to prove it, to solve it.

Nearly three decades passed, heartbroken loved ones wondered if justice would ever be done.

And then they learned the answer wasn't plain sight all along.

They kept it in the dark, down the stairs in the basement, among the bolt cutters, and the bags of white powder and the guns.

The investigative leftovers of a small police department.

Why they chose a lime green suitcase for it? It's beyond knowing now.

But he'd see it down there every time he filed a piece of evidence, tucked in all but forgotten behind a doorframe, like a silent accusation.

And they're kind of sat in that room staring at you.

Yes, yes for years.

In fact, since about the time Brad Benson got his start in the Woods Cross Police Department.

I was always intrigued by this case because it was a cold case homicide that had never been solved.

The lime green mystery.

Inside that suitcase was quite possibly all the evidence required to put a murderer away for life.

If he opened it, God knows what becomes slithering out. Though he never guessed just how bizarre it would turn out to be.

Back in the summer of 1980, it seemed frankly like one of those murders that happened all too commonly in other cities, though surely not here.

Brad Benson was a rookie, a reserve officer, in a town that only rarely seemed to need much of a police department.

I was kind of shocked, quite frankly, that we had something like that in a Woods Cross.

I mean, I'd only been there a couple of years, but I could never imagine that we would be investigating a homicide murder in Woods Cross.

Murder in Woods Cross. Yes, unheard of. That was our very first homicide, just a matter of fact.

Woods Cross was busily growing out from the friends of Salt Lake City in those days.

Quiet, middle class, studded everywhere with mostly Mormon churches.

...