Chandra Levy Vanishes I

A 23-year-old intern lands her dream job in Washington, DC, builds a steady routine near Dupont Circle, and then disappears so completely that her open laptop becomes one of the last witnesses. Chandra Levy’s case isn’t just a true crime mystery, it’s a collision between ambition and secrecy, where a young woman’s private choices become a public storm.

We walk through Chandra’s early life in Modesto, California, her determination to break out of a small-town script, and the careful career steps that take her to the Federal Bureau of Prisons on Capitol Hill. From gym visits and networking “field trips” to the pressure of making it in a competitive city, her timeline feels grounded and relatable, right up until the silence begins.

Then the story tightens around the rumor Washington couldn’t stop repeating: a hidden relationship with Congressman Gary Condit. We unpack the rules of that secrecy, what friends and colleagues notice as her world narrows, and how a sudden job termination throws her plans into chaos. Finally, we follow the last known trail, including phone calls, messages, and the May 1, 2001 online searches that end with Rock Creek Park.

If you care about missing person cases, political scandal, and the details that change how you read a timeline, listen now. Subscribe, share this episode with a friend, and leave a review with your theory: what matters most in Chandra Levy’s final week?

Transcript

Welcome To The Murder Book

SPEAKER_01 1:24

Welcome to the Murder Book. I'm your host, Ciara. And this is the case of Chandra Levy. Let's begin. The United Airlines flight from San Francisco to Washington takes five hours and eleven minutes. On September 14th, 2000, Chandra Levy had five hours and 11 minutes to think about what she was leaving behind and what she hoped to find at the other end of the country. She was 23 years old. She lived in her hometown of Modesto, California, which is 90 miles inland from San Francisco. She lived in Chenau Drive, one of the nicest parts of town. The Levies had a big pool and even owned horses, although Chandra didn't care for them much because they were her mom's darlings. She had to prefer to read books, run her fingers up and down, the keys of the families, big piano. Loved the Star Wars movies, baseball stats. She loved to gaze up the star through her telescope. She loved the San Francisco Giants,

Chandra’s Modesto Childhood

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Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, Harrison Ford. When it came to pets, she opted for birds over horses and had four of them. Susan Levy, Chandra's mother, was an artist. So maybe it was this cultural and spiritual side of the town that had quickly won her over. Although Chandra was not now flying more than 2,500 miles away from her parents, determined to build a life for herself, the thought of Bob and Susan always made her smile. There was something a little wacky about her parents. For starters, they had named her Chandra, which is Sanskrit for girl above the moon and stars. Her father Bob was an oncologist known for his holistic approach to cancer treatments. He and Chandra were quite close. Chandra was his princess, his little ladybug, and Chandra had no problem being a daddy's girl. In her world, Bob was a rock and the person who could never say no to her. As for free-spirited Susan, Chandra affectionately called her Looney Susan. When Chandra, the first child, was born in 1977, Bob had just finished his residency in Ohio, and the couple was looking to move. They made a short list of cities in dire need of an oncologist, scribbled each name onto a strip of paper, then dropped them all into a baseball cap and drew one at random. The family could just as well have ended up in Las Cruces, New Mexico or Council Bluffs, Iowa. But on that day, 1977, they pulled Modesto, California from the camp. Sandra in class was understimulated and struggled to keep her grades up. But then one day, something just clicked. School wasn't going to last forever. What if she was destined for a more exciting future than what this small town high school had to offer? Maybe she had been better off opting out of the school clicks and their social codes, all the impossible expectations of teens in the 90s to instead prepare for that future right now. And that's exactly what she did. At just five foot free, Chandra was a small thing with a mess of unruly curls pushing her way through crowded halls full of high school students, wearing a Modesto police explorer uniform with a batch pinned to her chest. Chandra had signed up to volunteer with the police department and was relishing every relishing every minute of it as she was drawn to order and justice. Typically, young interns spent time handing out fines for littering, but Chandra insisted on shadowing cops as they did the rounds. On weekends, she offered to go undercover and nab grocery stores selling alcohol to minors. Chandra wanted to be a journalist, and she landed an internship with the sports section of her local newspaper, The Modesto B. She also developed a keen interest in astronomy and began taking college courses to earn university credits in her last years of high school. She wasn't into any of the boys at school, had no interest in standing out and waving pom-poms with the cheerleaders, and didn't give a hood about prom. This wasn't Chandra's first time leaving the nest either. After high school, she had already gotten at a first, more modest start when she attended San Francisco State University, only 100 miles from home. She had lived there for three years in a small apartment off campus, as she had little interest in the prospicurity of dorm life, where students walked around in bathrobes, down musty halls, and where you had to share your room with a stranger. Unlike other Californian universities and colleges, San Francisco State was not a party school. It was better known for welcoming adult students, people who were already working. The school was a good fit for Chandra, and she got her degree after three studious years. During this time, she also worked as the sports editor for her college newspaper and found she didn't enjoy her forays into professional journalism. To Chandra, journalists were too cynical. As her graduation date grew closer, she changed her mind opted to pursue public administration instead. During her undergrad year, Sandra also experienced her first heartbreak, not over a student, but with a cop who was 10 years older than her. The relationship surprised no one as Chandra had been into older men since high school. Chandra was determined, ambitious, and stable, and she had always been drawn to men who shared the same traits. The boys in high school and college didn't meet her standards, but Mark still did. He was almost 30 years old, bright and handsome, with a promising future in the police force. The relationship lasted two years, and Chandra even introduced him to her parents. Meanwhile, at the police station, no one heard a peep about the relationship for the entire time they were together. And this is quite remarkable, given that everyone who worked there acknowledged the place was an absolute rumor meal. Chandra was discreet, her relationships were her business. At school she didn't talk about Mark much either, although she had often gone back to Modesto on weekends to see him. He was her first love, and she thought she had found the one. At the end of the day, though Chandra was still a naive twenty-year-old, and this tended to be most obvious when she was love struck.

Ambition And Early Reinvention

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Sure she was sensible and mature for her age, but she had a blind spot when it came to the men she fell for. When Chandra set her mind to something, it was hard to convince her to change course. Like when she became a vegetarian at 14. She had stuck with it, even though she was the only one in the family. When she wanted something, she worked for it, stubbornly sank her teeth in, never gave up, and she tended to come out stronger for it. So when Mark told her it was over in August 1999, her first instinct too was to cling to the relationship. But love doesn't work that way. You have to learn to let go, to give up, to recognize when you have made a mistake. It was hard for for for Chandra, but she got there. Within a year, Mark still had married someone else. To comfort Chandra, Susan took her on a train ride through the Rocky Mountains. She used the opportunity to teach her daughter that when one door closes, another one opens. To move forward, sometimes you have to look in another direction. And so, Chandra moved on. Soon she had something new to focus on. While getting her master's degree in public administration at the University of Southern California, she interned with Richard Reardon, the Republican mayor of Los Angeles. The following year, she landed another internship in Sacramento in the office of Democratic Governor Gray Davis. For her next and final internship, Chandra didn't think twice. It was going to be Washington, D.C. or bust. She sent her application to the U.S. Bureau of Prisons, but also caught up recruiter Daniel Dunn, to whom she explained that she didn't want just any internship and was seeking a truly rewarding experience that would advance her career. Dune was sold and immediately offered her a highly coveted internship with a 27,000 annual salary way above average. In Washington, DC, she could be forever whoever she wanted. She wanted to be in Start Fresh. Out there, with the exception of Jennifer Baker, a friend from college, she knew nobody. And this meant that no one knew her. As she folded one of Sandra's little blacktops later on during an interview, Susan blurted to her, and she in the mom remembers this, she told her, Hey, please don't you become another Monica Lewinsky. You see, for the past two years, President Clinton's young mistress had been all over the TV and on the front pages of the tabloids. She was the butt of talk show jokes and the topic of drunken conversations. Just eight months before, Congress had even voted to impeach the president for perjury and obstruction of justice. Chandra Levy and Monica Lewinsky did look quite similar. They were both brunettes, pretty, from well-to-do families, the daughters of divor of doctors. They were both Jewish, intelligent and ambitious, attracted to men, older men, and they were drawn to the bright lights of Washington, DC. In response, Chandra just rolled her eyes and told her mom, oh answer to her mom, come on, mom. In a few days, Chandra would begin her internship at the Federal Bureau of Prisons on Capitol Hill. At the heart of the United States government, Hermeka. The date was September 14th, 2000. Chandra's first day in Washington, DC. We'll be right back. On May 1st, 2001, Chandra Levy woke up in her apartment. Through the third floor window, she looked out at a clear sky. She locked out her bright blue sunny laptop. Then she vanished into thin air. No one would ever see her again. So we're going to go back a little bit in time. From this moment. It was October in the Dupont Circle neighborhood. There were already leaves that were starting to turn. There were the spooky Halloween decorations strung up. And a young woman opened the door of the Newport, which is a nice building at 1260 21st Street Northwest. She was dressed in athletic wear with a button hand and headphones on. It was easy to picture Chandra in this scene. She was looking content, active, splitting her Sunday between a workout at her favorite gym, the Washington Sports Clubs on Connecticut Avenue, and a stroll through the organic farmers market that popped up every Sunday morning by the metro. When Chandra was in Washington, the newport was full of young active people, about 200 of them spread over nine floors. Most were in Washington for the first job on Capitol Hill, the White House, Congress, the Supreme Court, and the Bureau of Prisons were all just a few metro stops away. Chanda's apartment, door number 315, was a 494 square foot studio that cost fourteen hundred dollars a month. It had big windows and an open kitchen, an office nook, and a bed tucked into a knockoff. She kept a small TV stored in a white cabinet. Shanda had established a routine in DC, each day much like the one before it. After a morning session at the gym, she would leave the Newport with her badge around her neck and her curly hair bouncing around her face. She would walk to the metro, happy to have made a space for herself in this busy city. And she would arrive at the Bureau of Prisons at 321st Street Northwest, a large Art Deco-inspired corner building, and make her way up to the sixth floor to the public information office. Then she would settle in, read all news articles related to the 98

Heartbreak And The D.C. Plan

SPEAKER_01 17:03

federal prisons in the country, write up a summary for her boss, answer the phone, respond to emails, process media requests, handle petitions from death row inmates. Every day was the same. Every day Chandra was happy with the routine and her DC life. She befriended 28-year-old colleague Sven Jones, and together they joked in the hallways and talked sports. At the Washington Sports Club, she also met Robert Kirkjen, 28 years old, a former USC student like her. He often suggested they go out, but most of the time she turned him down. Shanta had always surrounded herself with male friends rather than girlfriends. As far back as high school, she had found teenage girls superficial and cruel. In Washington, it was even worse. She told her mother how the women in this new city were cutthroat and highly competitive, how they looked each other up and down, and how they they vied for the few spots left behind by the men. Chandra preferred not to get involved in their games. Fortunately, she had Jennifer Baker, a friend from USC, who was also from Modesto, and they spend the weekends together. Both young women were ambitious. They wanted to land permanent jobs in Washington to settle down there and build solid careers for themselves. To develop their networks, they organized what they call political field trips, where they would, for example, get tickets or attend a debate organized by CNN at Georgetown University. Other days, they would show up unannounced at the local offices of members of Congress to chat with their staff and start making contacts. One day in October, they dropped by the office of Congressman Gary Condit, who was the Democratic representative for Modesto, California, and one of the most prominent politicians in Washington. It was the start of a new school year in the 2000s, and Condit, aged 52, was getting ready to be elected for a seventh term in the House of Representatives. He was delighted to meet two of his constituents and gave them a tour of the of his office, then brought them to the House gallery to watch a vote. They got a photo together, and Jennifer, who had been out of work that morning, landed an internship at Condit's Washington office. Not a bad day. Meanwhile, Chandra pulled every string she had. By leveraging her California roots, she managed to book a meeting with Democratic Senator Barbara Boxer. In a photo taken on the day they met, she is wearing the necklace her parents gave her in Israel. She never went anywhere without it. And the same little fine-knit blue top that she had worn to Condit's office. On election day, November 7, 2000, Shandra and Jennifer left work and hurried over to Hokendov, a local institution, where young Capitol Hill workers met for beers. It was a tight race between George W. Bush and Al Gore. By 8 p.m., Exit Posts suggested Gore would be take Florida with the entire election hinging on this state. By 10 p.m., projections had make a full 180. At 2 30 a.m., several news channels claimed Bush had won, but they retracted their statements at 4 30 a.m. In the end, it would take over a month to settle the matter. As Sandra and Jennifer made their way home from the bar, winding down after a feverish night, they look out over the lights of the Capitol. Then they returned to DuPont Circle, feeling elated. On may 11, 2001, Sandra was planning to go back to California for her graduation, where she would stay for a few days. The idea was to meet up with her parents, grandmother, and brother in Modesto, and then fly to Los Angeles together. For the first part of the trip, she planned to take a train across the country, starting in Washington, DC. It would be long, two or three days, but she had heard it was worth it. She had always dreamed of seeing the country this way. By the time May 6th came around, Chandra's parents had not heard from their daughter in a week. They were annoyed. Sure, Chandra was independent, but she could have let them know what she was up to. Should they wait for her in Modesto as planned? When would she she arrived? Was she taking a plane or a train in the end? Her father, Bob, left one message after another on her answering machine. On Sunday, he began to feel dread in the pit of his stomach. It wasn't like her to go silent. So Bob called the front desk clerk at the Newport as he would have seen all the tenants' daily comings and goings. But the employee refused to enter apartment three hundred five. It wasn't his business. Shandra was an adult, wasn't she? So Bob hung up. He had no other choice. His next call would be to the DC police. Panic set in as he told them about his daughter who had given them no sign of life. A few hours later the police sent a patrol to the Newport apartments, and the building manager led them into unit three hundred fifteen. The studio was empty. Two suitcases laid on the floor open and half filled with clothes. Other outfits were still hanging in the closet. A comforter had been left on the floor in the entryway. In the fridge, they found leftover pasta and Reese's peanut butter cups. Strangers still. Still, they they noticed her phone and and and wallets were in the apartment with her credit card, driver's license, and some cash. They found the necklace her parents had given her, the one she wore everywhere, and her laptop was open on the desk. End of police report. Now Bob was having trouble breathing. The cops were slow to go back. The FBI wasn't answering. The Newport Security Guard figured his job was done. Chandra Levy was officially a missing person, but no one seemed to give a damn. After all, tons of adults vanished in DC. Most of them came back, others were less fortunate. America's Capitol had a high crime rate, so a missing person was always less urgent than the previous night's murders. And in Washington, not a single night went by without at least one murder. Still, posters were printed and put up around the neighborhood. They showed Chandra's face and her full

Routine Life On Capitol Hill

SPEAKER_01 24:32

name, Chandra Ann Levy. On May 10th, a press release was issued. Journalists made a note of it, then move on. If the kid didn't turn up, it could be a good story for a quiet day. Then a rumor began to float around. No one quite knew where it had come from or how it had taken off, but it was there on the breeze. It spread from one newsroom to the next, maybe over the phone, maybe in whispered conversations. Within just a few days, the rumor had settled in as if it always been there. In Washington, people were saying that the Missing DuPont Circle girl had been sleeping with a congressman. But then again, it was 2001 in the US Capitol. This type of story was so news. In fact, sex between young women and politicians was practically a local sport. Tales of infidelity went back all the way to the days of the founding fathers. In the more recent past, U.S. presidents Franco D. Rosevelde, Lyndon Johnson, John F. Kennedy had all had affairs. One of the Kennedy's mistresses had been a 19-year-old intern. Every summer, a wave of ambitious and impressionable young women roll into Washington. In their eyes, the elected officials on Capitol Hill were like rock stars. Rockstars with families that lived far away. It was so easy to have an affair, and even easier to think that all parties were getting something out of it. When Sandra Levy disappeared in May 2001, the world's most high-profile affair was, of course, Bill Clinton's relationship with White House intern Monica Lewinsky. When Darlia's son had begun in 1995, Lewinsky was 22 years old. The president was 49. Three years later, in 1998, it was the scandal of the year. The whole world seemed to revolve around this one story and people treated it like a joke. In the fall, after the affair came out, Halloween stores were flooded with requests for Monica costumes. After every detail of their story had been dissected, thunk purchases exploded, making them the best-selling products in the American lingerie industry. President Clinton's popularity tracked in the same direction. And in February 1998, at the height of the scandal, his ratings rose to 71%. Viagra, the little blue pill, had just come on the market, male sexuality was having a moment, and the president's actions were deemed a sign of virility. In 2001, when Chandra Levy disappeared, the scandal was still fresh in everyone's minds. Linda Samsky, Chandra's aunt, the wife of Susan Levy's brother, was the keeper of Chandra's secrets. Her home in Chesapeake City, Maryland, backs onto a nice yard with a lake that borders the neighboring homes. And outside her dogs are playing rough and she goes out to them quickly, bringing them back into line. And her phone rings. She moves briskly to answer the call. It's the medical office she manages in town. They need her to find a replacement nurse. She calls the dogs in, sits back down, then gets up and offers drinks. Only when she agrees to sit down do her eyes finally settle, her toe figure coming to rest. In a husky voice she whispers, We sat at this table here.

SPEAKER_00 28:50

She was sitting where you're sitting. And the round table in the kitchen is by window with a view of the light of the lake.

SPEAKER_01 29:02

And nothing has changed in this room since the Thanksgiving weekend in 2000. So now Linda, her aunt Linda, tries to count the years in her head without really wanting to know the answer to her question. It was in fact 23 years ago. When Sandra had been looking out over the landscape when she told Linda that she met someone. She remembers that her niece had come over for the holidays. She liked to walk through the wide open spaces in Maryland, and she got along well with Samsky, who at 40 was about 10 years younger than her parents. They often call each other to chat, especially since Chandra had moved out east. Samske remembers that Chandra told her that the guy was older and married. She wasn't one to judge. At the time she just shrugged at most. Her own husband was 14 years older than her, and the age gap had been even bigger with her ex-husband. With Samsky, Chandra felt free to express her preference for a mature man, but she wouldn't say his name. He was an important person. When Samsky asked how old he was, Chandra told her he was 50-ish. She didn't seem to have any qualms about the fact that he was married. Chandra figured his wife didn't make him happy, that the poor man needed something more. Soon she would tell her aunt that her marriage was only a facade, that a young love that had long since turned into a partnership and strategic companionship. Chandra's logic was typical of a young person. If people loved each other, they wouldn't cheat. So if he was unfaithful, it'd have to mean that they were not in love anymore. It was a classic, you know, sophist argument. At this Thanksgiving dinner in 2000, Chandra was radiant. The next day, she and her aunt were shopping, and Chandra talked about her man again. And Samsky asked her, Sandra, how do you get in touch with him if he's so secretive? So Chandra explained that she had to dial up a special number that never rang and instead played a kind of elevator music until it went to voicemail. She would leave a message, then wait for him to call her back. But sometimes she also called his office. And

Meeting Congressman Gary Condit

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then they would answer Congressman Gary Condit's office. And then, of course, it was oops because she realized that she let, you know, the name blurred out of her mouth. And she said, Oh, you didn't hear that, did you? And Sanske, of course, kept her secret. In any case, the name Gary Condit didn't ring a bell to her, to her aunt because she didn't really follow politics. And she has been living in Maryland for so long. The relationship began about six weeks before Thanksgiving. This is what Samski knows from what Chandra told her. When Chandra walked into Condit's Washington office with Jennifer Baker, she thought the 50-year-old congressman looked like Harrison Ford. Something about his hair, maybe. Then she ran into him a second time a few days later while popping in to see Jennifer, who was interning for the congressman. On that day, Chandra, a student, Condit, a married man, exchanged numbers and email addresses. Chandra wasted no time and soon called him to ask for career advice. By the end of the conversation, they have agreed to meet for dinner, then met at Trist Coffee Shop on 18th Street Northwest that was popular with government workers. And this was located in in the trendy Adams Morgan neighborhood, which is minutes from Condit's Place, a condo unit on the fourth floor of an elegant white columned building. Soon Chandra would be spending two to three nights a week in that apartment. The relationship had to be keeped kept a secret, so there were rules to follow. Tell no one, of course, not her friends, especially Jennifer, not her family, not her colleagues either. When Chandra came to his place, if she crossed path with a neighbor in the elevator, she was to stay on one on four on the elevator for one more floor, and then say she was coming to visit a sick friend. When they went out, rarely she was expected to wear a baseball cap and rush into the taxi at the last second so they wouldn't be seen together. And then inside the taxi, they would not say a word. If they were meeting somewhere, Chandra had to go without ID and take as few things as possible. To reach Condit, she always had to dial the secret number with the elevator music, then patiently wait for him to call back. If he didn't call back, it meant he wasn't free. He decided when they could see each other. And when they did, they spend most of their time together in the Adams Morgan apartment getting pasta delivered from Pasta Mia, which was Condit's favorite restaurant. They will eat chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream, which was also Condit's favorite, watching HBO, and discussing the latest political news, even though in reality Chandra was more interested in this than Condit. Chandra's life essentially boiled down to three things working, going to the gym, spending time at Condit's place. She didn't get out much because she wanted to be free when he called. She saw less and less of Jennifer and told her she was dating an FBI agent. Sandra diligently abided by all the rules. She was patient, obedient, devoted, and asked for nothing more. Cundit appreciated these qualities and told her it was nice to have someone who understood his way of life, and that he had not always been so lucky in his previous relationships. Previous relationships, Chandra realized she was not his first mistress. Perhaps she took it as a sign that his marriage had been over for a long time. More importantly, he seemed to be saying that she was better than the others. So Wakanda told her she could see other men if she wanted to. She wanted the relationship to be exclusive. President George W. Bush's inauguration was held on January 20th, 2001. Cold and rainy morning. The new president and his predecessor, Bill Clinton, were dressed in matching long black coats and blue ties, white shirts. It was almost as if they were showing that in America nothing ever truly changes. That day, Robert Curjain got a call from Chandra. He was surprised because they were not particularly close and fairly saw one another outside of the gym where they both worked out. And she said, Hey, I have tickets to the inaugural ball. Tonight are you free? And Curjain, who always kept a tuxedo in his closet just in case, accepted the invitation. When he came to pick her up, Chandra told him they first had to stop by her boyfriend's place to pick up their tickets. He wondered why her boyfriend wasn't accompanying her, why Chandra had told him with a touch of authority to stay in the car. But he kept these thoughts to himself. He parked in front of the Adams Morgan building, waited until Chandra came down with an envelope in hand. The ball was held in the lobby of the National Museum of Women in the Arts, a stunning room made of light marble and flanked by two sweeping staircases. Kirjan and Chandra made their way upstairs and watched the party below. Chandra wasn't particularly interested in the bar and the flutes of champagne, nor in the dance floor, where the lucky guests were growing happy to be a part of this momentous occasion. As Chandra scanned the crowd, Kirchin realized she was looking for something. He started to wonder what he was even doing there, and eventually asked about her mysterious boyfriend, this man who was powerful enough to get her two tickets to one of DC's most exclusive parties, but was unwilling to be her date. And Chandra said, well, he's a member of Congress. That

Rules Of A Secret Relationship

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was the only bit of information that would come out of the conversation. Curtain wanted to know whether he was a Democrat or a Republican, which state he represented, how long he had been in Congress, whether he was married, but Chandra systematically said she couldn't say. Eventually he too began to scan the crowd. The congressman had to be there. Did Curtain understand that he was just some date? Someone Chandra could have on her arm while she came here to spy on her guy. And did Chandra feel like she was sharing a part of the experience with Condit, the person she actually wanted to walk through the door with? When Korjan told the story to Washington Post journalists years later, he recalled feeling that night that Chandra's life revolved entirely around this man, and that mostly he found it sad. Sven Jones, Chandra's former colleague, today he's around his 50s, in his 50s. He no longer speaks to the press and he's protective of his online presence. He doesn't work for the government anymore either and switched to another field where he's an independent contractor. In a single text message, he explained that for a decade he was unemployable because his name was associated with the Chandra case. And this put him in an awkward position. He will never forget Chandra, but he can't get pulled back into the case again. Many memories supposed hunt Jones, perhaps one more than the rest. And he talks about a morning in early April. Chandra was upset when she arrived at the office. She told Jones she had a problem, but when he offered to help, she tensed up and she said, No, no, it's a female problem. And Sven had boundaries and he let it go. He got the impression that she would settle this with a doctor, though she had not said as much. She assured him it was nothing she couldn't handle on her own. So Jones changed the topic and they move on. He never did find out what she meant by female problem. As the at the office, Jones also heard a lot about this mystery congressman. Shandel wondered what she should get him for his birthday. What do you give a fifty year old married man who is not your father? She also repeatedly told Jones that her lover's marriage was just a formality. His wife lived thousands of miles away and their marriage was unfulfilling. James understood that on some level, Chandra liked this illicit side of the relationship. It spiced things up, and the sex was pretty intense. She was confided. But over time he noticed Chandra becoming depressed. She wonder, what if all this never led to a real relationship? What if she could never experience this happiness publicly? In April 2001, when Chandra went back to her aunt's house for Passover, she wore a gold bracelet. And it was a nice piece of jewelry, according to her aunt Sandsky. And she said, Chandra said that Candid had given it to her for Valentine's Day. It seemed the relationship had taken a more serious turn since Chandra and Sansky had last seen each other. Chandra was now talking about a five-year plan. Imitating her niece, Sandsky gestures as she speaks. She says that the plan was simple. According to Sandsky, in May, Chandra would go home to California to pick up her diploma. Then she would come back, finish her internship, find a job in DC. For five years, the couple would continue to date in secret. This would give Chandra time to pour all her energy and free time into her work, land her dream job. Next, her congressman would leave politics and his wife to start a career in lobbying. And finally, they would be able to build a new family together. In five years, Chandra would be almost 29 years old. She had always wanted children and felt this left her plenty of time. Some days she felt the timeline even seemed a little long, but Samske reassured her. Chandra was still young and everything would be fine. This wasn't the first time Chandra was trying to make the relationship as official as possible despite the circumstances. In January, she had written to her Newport landlord asking how she could end her lease as she was planning to move in with her partner. When the owner called her back to discuss the matter on February 1st, Chandra backtracked it and out of everything, and she said, no, it didn't work out. Sven Jones, on the other hand, had more reservations about this five-year plan and tried to warn Chandra. He told her that sometimes husbands leave their wives, but not often. And even if he does, do you want to be with a powerful man who is 30 years older than you? And if he's cheating, On his wife, who said he won't cheat on you. The more they talk about it, the more Jones realized that Chandra wanted something else too. She needed a faster, deeper commitment. In the final weeks before her disappearance, the two colleagues talked about one thing only. How to get the congressman to leave his wife. They cook up plans with the right wording, the right timing. And one day, Jones would see her come in angry, ready to punch a table. The next she would be soothed, placating by a five a few nice words. Within a few days, the cycle would start over again. This time Chandra would be sure that she was determined to have this confrontation

The Inaugural Ball And Warning Signs

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and intended to present her demands to Condit. As her friend, Jones warned her not to press him. He told her, if you push a man like that too hard, he's going to feel as he've lost some control. If you really want to hook this guy, you should lie low and let him feel like he's making the decisions. But Chandra couldn't play it cool anymore. Her reply was sharp. She said, I have invested too much in this relationship. April was also Chandra's birthday month. On the 14th, she turned 24. Her parents came to meet her at her aunt's house for Passover and they spent her birthday at her godmother's home in Pennsylvania. During this vacation, Chandra had used her aunt's and her father's phones to make calls to DC. She had joked about her secret lover. The whole family seemed to understand he was a man of power, but no one pressed her for more details. They knew Chandra would spill nothing. In one of the photos taken that day, Susan and Chandra are sitting close together on a black leather couch. And it's hard to tell which brown curls belong to whom. Susan rests her head on her daughter's shoulders and both have their eyes closed. It looks like an imperfect photo of a perfect moment. When Chandra got back to Washington, the office was buzzing. Timothy McVeigh's execution had been scheduled for June. A Gulf War veteran McVeigh was sentenced to death for the 1995 bombing of a federal building in Oklahoma City. The attack killed 168 people. In the spring of 2001, it was still the deadliest act of terrorism in the history of the United States. At the Bureau of Prisons, the phone was ringing nonstop and Chandra was helping organize a press conference. But on Monday, April 23rd, her carefully planned career trajectory hid an unexpected road bomb. In a conversation by the coffee machine, Chandra mentioned to one of her managers that she had completed all her university credits in December and that she would soon get home, go home to California to attend her official graduation ceremony with her classmates. Suddenly, the personnel officer balked. The Bureau of Prisons, like many government officers, only allow internships within four months of graduation. If Chandra had technically graduated in December, then her internship could not go beyond April. There was no way she would be allowed to stay on until September as she had planned. Her contract was terminated on the spot, and within a few short minutes, Chandra was out of a job. The next morning on Tuesday, April 24th, she went to Condit's place and told him what had happened. She explained how she had probably have to move back to California. She had recently applied to work as an FBI analyst, but likely wouldn't hear back for a while. She told him maybe she could start law school or find a job in Sacramento where she had contacts. According to Condit, who reluctantly described this encounter to journalists, they met for roughly an hour and a half. He claimed Chandra was disappointed but didn't seem desperate. He couldn't remember if they had sex that day. On Friday, April 27, she called her parents in California. She used this unexpected free time to see the Holocaust Museum and wanted to tell them about her experience. During the conversation, she told her mother about losing her internship, saying, It's not what I would have wanted, but that's the way it is. That evening, she asked Robert Kirkjan to get a drink with her at the bar. It was her last week in N DC, and she begged him to come out. But Kerjan was tired and already had plans to order pizza and watch a movie with his roommate. When he suggested she come by for a drink, he was sure she would turn him down as she had already turned him down twice since the inaugural ball, but Chandra took him up on the offer. Clearly she didn't feel like spending the evening alone and she wanted to talk. As soon as she arrived, Chandra poured her heart out, disappointed to be leaving Washington

Job Termination And A Sudden Exit

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and her lover. She laid out the five-year plan. Her guy would get a divorce, he would leave politics, they would start a second family. Curtain resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He couldn't believe Chandra, who seemed to have a good head on her shoulders, could be so hopelessly naive. Gently, he tried to tell her that this mystery congressman didn't care about her, but Chandra wasn't having it. So they watched the sixth day, and then at about 1 AM, Kirkan walked her to the end of the street where she hailed a cab to take her off the few blocks home. That was the last time he saw her. On Saturday, april twenty eighth, she called Sven Jones to suggest getting lunch together the following Monday. Jones didn't pick up so she left a message on his answering machine. When he later listened to the message, he was in Canada that weekend. Jones thought she sounded sad and wondered if she was still depressed over her lover. But since he couldn't be back for Monday by Monday, he didn't return the call. At 1114 PM, Chandra sent an email to her landlord and said in the email, it looks like my plans have suddenly changed. I was just informed this week that my job appointment time is up, so I'm out of work. I'm moving back to California for good. I would like to vacate the apartment on May 5th or 6th if possible. I really hate giving up the apartment, but I think I need to be in California for a while to figure out my what my next move is. On Sunday, April 29th, Chandra made at least two phone calls. Gary Condit would eventually admit that they talked to each other that day. About what? About nothing, according to him. It was just a normal, boring conversation. He asked her when she was going back to California and she told him next week, but that she hadn't bought a ticket yet. The call was brief, and for good reason. Condit's wife was in DC that day. She had arrived that evening before and was planning to stay until Thursday, May 3rd. Chandra's second call was to her aunt Linda and she left her message. It's that says, Hi Linda, this is Chandra. My internship is over. I'm planning on packing my bags in the next week or ten days. Heading home for a while. Didn't know what I'm going to do this summer. And I really have some big news or something important to tell. Call me. Linda Samsky has listened to this message many times because on the tape, Chandra sounds like a happy and excited young woman. On Monday, April 30th, Chandra went to her regular gym to cancel her membership. She spent a while talking to the manager in the lobby. She told him she was heading back to California and asked if there were any affiliate gyms out there since her membership would last through the month. That Monday she called her own voicemail several times, at least seven or eight attempts, to see if she had any messages. Her Aunt Linda had not called back. On Tuesday, May 1st, Chandra got on her computer and connected to the internet. The time was 1027 AM. She went to Amtrak and Southwest Airlines websites. At 10 45, she forwarded an email to her parents. It was an advertisement for discounted flights between Modesto and Los Angeles. She sent the emails without adding any comment. She checked out a few news sites like The Los Angeles Times, the Hollywood Reporter, Drudge Report, The Modesto Bee, and National Geographic. And read articles about a White House luncheon that Condit had attended on an invitation by President Bush. She also read a couple articles about Gary's children, Chad

Final Calls And Last Online Trail

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and Katie Condit, aged 33 and 26. She looked up a map of Baskin Robin's locations. Multiple search engines were used. Google, Lycos, Yahoo, Alta Vista. The pace was frantic. And she sometimes stayed on a page for just a few seconds. Finally at 1126 a.m. Chandra checked the weather forecast on the Washington Post website. It was May 1st and the sky was clear. An expected high of 81 degrees. Next, she clicked on the entertainment guide menu and browse some pages about Rock Creek Park and its hiking trails. Strangely, she also looked up information about the Celsius Lorraine region in France, and at 1224 p.m. she locked off. This would be the last sign of life from Chandra Levy. Thank you for listening to the murder book. Have a great week.