California's idyllic hills once echoed with the promise of peace, until the Zodiac arrived. The Great Detective sat hunched over the ciphers, deciphering not only the codes, but the intention behind them. "The Z408 while solved, was never meant to be," he said, "It was bait. The real mind hides in the pauses between attacks, between lines." Every murder scene yielded the same clue...silence. A silence the Great Detective had filled with motive, profile, and the name of the man history had not dared to name or confirm. "For years," the Great Detective murmured, "they hunted a phantom by chasing the noise." A case that had evaded the finest minds for decades now lay unraveled at his feet. He had examined the names: Allen, Sullivan, Kane, Poste...all of them were just names whispered in conspiracy; yet, none bore the cold, precise fingerprints of the mind behind the Zodiac's mask. "No, the Zodiac Killer wasn't who the Police and general public claim. They were wrong, but I have pieced together the exact identity of the Zodiac Killer, one that was under their noses the whole time." That man was none other than Richard Joseph Doerr. He was a man who carried the same weapons as the Zodiac, wrote letters with the same cross-hair insignia and cryptographic flaws, crafted ciphers as threats comparable to the Zodiac Killer, one which hinted at making a bomb, and was in the military. Doerr was no theatrical villain. He didn't crave infamy. He craved control. "The Zodiac Killer won," the Great Detective said, "He eluded to other possible suspects because of one reason...paradise. In one of his letters, he claimed he'd rule once he reached paradise while the rest of us would be made slaves for him. And what did we do? We worked because of him after he disappeared. The reason he was never caught is because he ensured he'd reach his paradise." With that in mind, the Great Detective has rendered the Zodiac Killer case closed.