Andrew Cunanan

Despondent at his fall from grace, Andrew Cunanan went to visit architect David Madson in Minneapolis, where Madson had recently moved. There, Cunanan discovered that his former lover had become acquainted with Jeffrey Trail, another ex-partner who had left the Navy and coincidentally migrated to the same city. Cunanan was reportedly jealous of the professional and financial success of both men, which stood in stark relief to his own circumstances. He became obsessed with the belief that they were having an affair behind his back, a jealousy that increased over the following months despite their denials. Finally, on April 26, 1997, Cunanan returned to Minneapolis determined to get the truth. Despite warnings from mutual friends about Cunanan’s unstable mental health, Madson did not take the threat seriously and arranged for Trail to visit his apartment the next evening so they could address the suspicions head-on.

This proved to be a disastrous plan. Cunanan and Trail got into a heated argument that quickly became violent. Cunanan took a kitchen hammer and bludgeoned Trail to death in front of a terrified Madson. Afterward, they rolled the bloody corpse into a Persian rug and formed an escape plan. Why Madson agreed to assist Cunanan after the attack remains a mystery, but when concerned colleagues reported Madson missing, an investigation of his apartment revealed Trail’s body. Forced to flee, the two left the city in Madson’s Jeep. While the police discovered evidence that immediately identified Cunanan as the killer, they had no idea where the pair had gone. The answer came on April 29, 1997, when Madson’s body was discovered 45 miles north of Minneapolis; he had been shot three times, making it clear to the police that Cunanan had struck again.

Cunanan’s next victim was Lee Miglin, a 72-year-old Chicago real estate mogul who simply had the misfortune of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. On May 3, 1997, Cunanan gained access to Miglin's home, where he tied him up and subjected him to horrific torture, including punching, kicking, and stabbing with garden shears, before finally sawing open his throat with a small hacksaw. Following this brutal attack, Cunanan stole personal items from the house, including some gold coins, and made off in Miglin’s Lexus. This third death was quickly linked to Cunanan, who made no effort to conceal his tracks. The FBI was alerted and launched a countrywide manhunt. Although investigators were initially able to track his movements through the in-car telephone in the Lexus, the trail went cold when Cunanan ditched the phone and began looking for a replacement vehicle.

By this time, he had traveled to Pennsville, New Jersey, where William Reese, a 45-year-old caretaker of a local cemetery, became his next victim of convenience. On May 9, 1997, Reese was shot dead just for the keys to his red pickup truck. Cunanan then drove the stolen truck down to Miami, Florida, arriving the next day. He took a long-term room rental in a beachfront hotel that had seen better days, intending to settle in the city. Initially, he was careful about frequenting the Miami gay nightlife because of the nationwide search. However, as time passed, he grew bolder, using his well-honed "chameleon" skills to blend in easily with the locals.

Despite three appearances on America’s Most Wanted, the nationwide hunt showed little progress. The killer’s lack of care about covering his tracks was counter-balanced by the incompetence of the police forces hunting him, who wasted several opportunities to bring him to justice. In one instance, he was recognized in a Miami shop but was allowed to leave unhindered while a shop assistant went to alert authorities. On another occasion, he pawned the gold coins stolen from Miglin. This required him to produce real identification for security reasons, which he did. Although the information was sent to the local police in accordance with regulations designed to catch wanted felons, the lead was never followed up and the connection was missed.

It is not known whether Cunanan traveled to Miami specifically to seek out Gianni Versace, or if the selection arose out of the fashion guru’s almost mystical status among the inhabitants of South Beach. Within a few weeks, Cunanan had selected his target and made plans to orchestrate an encounter, staking out the areas around Versace’s South Beach villa where the designer went to relax. Investigators conjectured that Cunanan selected Versace either as the epitome of success and glamour to which he had always aspired, or because Versace symbolized the wealthy older men who had let Cunanan down and forced him into his current predicament. Whatever the true reason, on the morning of July 15, 1997, Cunanan walked up to Versace on the steps of his Miami home—where the designer had just returned from getting his regular morning coffee—and fired two shots into the back of his head.

In a country inured to random acts of violence, the deaths of four ordinary people at the hands of Andrew Cunanan were initially deemed hardly worthy of column inches; his capture was of interest only to close family and the law enforcement agencies involved. Versace’s death, however, changed everything, bringing the full weight of global media scrutiny to bear on his South Beach slaughter. Television networks scrambled for any news, no matter how implausible, about the whereabouts of the killer. Cunanan’s sordid past became instant grist for the endless tabloid media mill, and intense political pressure quickly ensured that hundreds of FBI agents were assigned to facilitate his capture. To local police forces—already smarting from public criticism when earlier blunders came to light—there was no other crime more important, as they faced the harsh reality that lost opportunities might have saved Versace’s life. Ironically, Cunanan had finally achieved his life’s ambition: the attention of the world’s media was focused squarely on him.

Despite the intense scrutiny, operational errors by the authorities continued, though they were now firmly in the public domain. For instance, when the pawnshop information was finally reviewed, the police raided the hotel Cunanan had listed on the form. However, reception gave them the wrong room number, and unsurprisingly, the room they burst into was empty. When hotel staff discovered the error two days later, they alerted the police once again, but with a 48-hour head start, Cunanan was long gone.

With his image now plastered everywhere, Cunanan's options became severely limited. He ultimately sought refuge in a luxurious houseboat, but his luck ran out on July 23, 1997, when a security guard doing his rounds at the marina spotted him. The guard recognized Cunanan from the news and immediately alerted the authorities.

Determined not to lose the fugitive yet again, hundreds of law enforcement officers descended on the houseboat. A tense, three-hour standoff ensued as FBI agents gradually inched closer to the vessel, using a loud-hailer to demand that Cunanan give himself up. Finally, a gas grenade assault was launched, and tactical teams stormed the boat. Inside an upstairs bedroom, they found Cunanan’s body; he had shot himself in the head with the very same gun he had used to kill David Madson and William Reese.

Following his death, the media interest in Cunanan died almost as quickly as it had begun. Within a month, perhaps the only person more famous in the world than Versace, his friend Diana, Princess of Wales, was killed in a car accident in Paris.This event overwhelmed the media and dwarfed the importance of any post-mortem of the events surrounding the Versace killing. Law enforcement officials and mental health professionals were left the task of pondering exactly what had motivated Cunanan’s killing spree. They have yet to reach a consensus.