Webster gunman was well-behaved in prison

William Spengler, who lured Webster, N.Y., firefighters into an ambush and shot two of them dead last week, raised no alarms from his behavior in prison for 17 years and for more than a decade afterward.

Well-spoken, well-behaved and intelligent, he had a demeanor that was praised by four straight parole boards. But they denied him parole, worried that bludgeoning his 92-year-old grandmother with a hammer showed a violent streak that could explode again.

After his sentence was up in 1996, he stayed out of trouble until 2010, police said Friday. That's when, officials said, Spengler went to a sporting goods store with a neighbor's daughter, picked out a Bushmaster semiautomatic rifle and a shotgun, and had her buy the guns that as a felon he couldn't legally possess.

On Monday, he sprayed gunfire at firefighters lured to a blaze he set at his house in Webster, killing two people and wounding three others before killing himself. A suicide note spelled out Spengler's intention to destroy his neighborhood and "do what I like doing best, killing people."

A clearer portrait of Spengler has begun to emerge in the words of wary parole commissioners who kept him locked up until the law said they had to let him go.

At his final parole hearing in 1995, the then-45-year-old Spengler repeated his desire to get out of prison while he still had time to rebuild his life. He also took issue with a previous decision not to release him because the board believed he remained a danger to society.

"I can't figure out where in my record it shows that," he said.

"Well, 13 shots to the head. The grandmother. You killed a 92-year-old woman. We are worried about that," a board member replied. "There might be another occasion where you lose your temper and you might repeat that behavior. That is what frightens us."

During four hearings between 1989 and 1995, Spengler quarreled over details of his grandmother's killing, insisting each time he'd hit her only three times on the head with a hammer, while evidence pointed to 13 blows.

He told the commissioners he took care of his father's mother, Rose Spengler, in her home next to his. Others in the family had difficulty dealing with her, in part because she could be violent, Spengler said. He denied insinuations he took financial advantage of her.

The transcripts reveal a well-spoken man, proud to be staying out of trouble in prison. He was allowed outside the walls with a work crew that did renovation work in places including a century-old chapel.

Board members mention Spengler testing high for intelligence and noted he had no other criminal record, had only dabbled in drug use and had a spotty work history, mostly as a housepainter.

On the day of the grandmother's killing, Spengler said, he planned to nail shut a basement door to prevent his grandmother from going down and endangering herself. But he said she attacked him, inadvertently kneed him in the groin, and he hit her with the hammer.

"So why do you think you killed her?" Spengler was asked in 1989.

"I still haven't figured that out," he replied. Spengler added he just wanted to leave. "She was between me and the door."

"She was just a little, bitty old lady," a board member commented.

"I realize that. That's why I still can't explain it," Spengler said.

On Friday, state and federal authorities charged Dawn Nguyen, 24, with lying on a form that said she would be the owner of the guns she purchased for Spengler.

Investigators were still working to confirm their belief that a body found in Spengler's burned home was that of the sister he lived with, Cheryl Spengler, 67.