SEATTLE — After hearing three hours of emotional monologues from the families of some of the 48 young women he murdered, Gary L. Ridgway stood in court Thursday and read from a yellow legal pad a meek apology.
"I know how horrible my acts were," he said. "I have tried for a long time to get these things out of my mind. I have tried for a long time to keep from killing any more ladies."
Ridgway's sentencing on Thursday to life in prison by Judge Richard A. Jones of King County Superior Court brought to a close the 20-year investigation into the Green River killings, which culminated six months ago in a plea agreement that spared Ridgway's life but allowed investigators to solve scores of unsolved murders.
Reading his statement in a halting monotone, Ridgway paused frequently to remove his glasses, sniffle and wipe his eyes.
"I have tried hard to remember as much as I could to help the detectives find and recover the ladies," he said, adding later, "I'm very sorry for the ladies that were not found. May they rest in peace. They need a better place than what I gave them."
Ridgway's emotional displays were a sharp contrast to his appearance in Jones' courtroom Nov. 5, when he showed no emotion as he pleaded guilty in the killings.
In each of the cases, which took place over 16 years, the victims were women, mostly young, some as young as 16. Many were prostitutes, whom Ridgway picked up on the streets around Seattle and strangled, disposing their bodies in wooded areas around King County.
The Green River killings were named for the river where the first bodies were found. The attacks terrorized the area in the 1980s when Ridgway was killing most frequently.
His sentence was agreed upon months ago by lawyers from both sides. On Thursday, the judge granted victims' families each 10 minutes to confront Ridgway.
Many spoke of the toll his actions had taken their families, relating tales of depression, substance abuse and even suicide. Some commended the plea deal, but others said they put their faith in God or jailhouse justice to mete out Ridgway's final penalty.
"Gary Ridgway is an evil creature who I would condemn to many, many long years of anguish and despair," said Nancy Gabbert, whose 17-year-old daughter, Sandra, was killed in 1983.
Ridgway, turning slightly to face the speakers, appeared largely unaffected by their words until Robert Rule, a sometime Santa Claus impersonator with a long white beard and rainbow suspenders, approached the microphone.
In 1982 Ridgway murdered Rule's 16-year-old daughter, Linda. As Rule spoke, Ridgway wiped away tears.
"Mr. Ridgway, there are people here that hate you," Rule said. "I'm not one of them. I forgive you for what you have done."
The families and friends of the victims, as well as the judge, gave no merit to Ridgway's "Teflon-coated emotions," as the judge called them. Addressing Ridgway, Judge Jones said, "There is nothing in your life that was significant other than your own demented, calculating and lustful passion of being the emissary of death."
Ridgway, 54, a truck painter from Auburn, had been a suspect since the early 1980s, after one of the victims was seen getting into his truck. But when investigators confronted him at the time, he passed a polygraph test.
He was arrested in 2001 and charged with seven of the murders after DNA evidence linked him to the crimes.
Originally, Norm Maleng, the King County prosecutor, had promised not to bargain with the death penalty, but he relented when presented with the opportunity to resolve scores of unsolved murders.
Since the agreement in June, Ridgway had been living in a private cell above detectives' offices, leading them to sites around King County where he believed the bodies of his victims to be.
With Ridgway's help, enough evidence was compiled to link him to 48 murders.
Jones ordered Ridgway to serve 48 consecutive life sentences with no chance for parole and to pay $480,000 in fines. The judge also said any profit Ridgway might receive from a book or movie deal could be used as restitution for the families.
The King County Sheriff's Office said investigators believed there was nothing more to gain from working with Ridgway.
"At this point we don't believe he has any more information for us that he's willing to give up," a spokesman, Sgt. John Urquhart, said.