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In the mid 1980s, the charming streets of Montmartre in Paris, known for their artistic heritage and bohemian atmosphere, became the hunting ground for one of France's most notorious serial killers. This picturesque neighbourhood, nestled on a large hill in Paris's 18th district, with its iconic Sacré-Cœur basilica overlooking the city, would soon be gripped by fear as elderly women began turning up dead in their own homes.
That October, the first in a series of brutal attacks was reported. The victim, an 83-year-old woman living alone, had been savagely beaten and strangled. The crime scene bore no signs of forced entry, suggesting that the killer had either known his victim or had found a way to gain her trust.
As the weeks passed, more attacks bearing the same details were reported. The victims were all elderly women, most living alone in Paris’ 18th or nearby. They were brutally assaulted in their own homes, often strangled or suffocated, and their apartments were ransacked. The police were baffled. How was the killer gaining entry to these homes? Why was he targeting vulnerable elderly women?
The killer was dubbed “The Killer of the 18th” and "The Monster of Montmartre" by the press, and his reign of terror would last for three years, leaving at least 18 elderly women dead, though some estimates put the number of victims higher.
As the body count rose, pressure mounted on police to catch the killer. But despite their best efforts, they struggled to find any substantial leads. The killer seemed to strike at random, leaving little evidence behind. The only common thread was the profile of the victims: elderly women living alone in Montmartre and surrounding districts.
Little did they know that the person responsible for these heinous crimes was walking among them, leading a double life that would shock even the most hardened investigators when the case was finally solved.
On October 5, 1984, 83-year-old Anna Ponthus-Barbier was violently attacked in her own apartment. When police arrived, they were met with a harrowing scene. Just inside the front door, her shopping bag lay undisturbed: a baguette, some cheese, and fruit still neatly tucked inside. Beyond that, chaos reigned. The apartment was ransacked: upholstery ripped apart, furniture overturned, and in her bedroom, the floor was completely obscured by the mess. Then they found Anna, deceased. One of her earrings had been torn from her ear, leaving a jagged wound, and her fingers were covered in deep bruises, as if they had been cruelly twisted in an act of torture.
On the same day Germaine Petitot, a 91-year-old woman living alone in her Montmartre apartment was going about her usual day. Like Anna, after buying some fresh food from the street markets, she returned home. She had just unlocked the front door to go inside, when her assailant forced her inside and commenced a merciless attack. Miraculously Germaine survived but was too traumatised to remember anything about the attack.
Three days later on October 9th, firefighters responded to a fire on Rue Nicolet. Inside, they discovered the body of Suzanne Fouco, 89 years old, her hands and feet tied, suffocated with a plastic bag. Her attacker stole her watch and 500 francs in cash (about 140 euros today).
A month later, on November 5th, another murder occurred at 60 Boulevard de Clichy, also in the 18th district. The victim was a 71-year-old woman named Anna Sekaresco. She was strangled, her nose broken, her jaw shattered. The attacker tortured her to make her reveal where she had hidden her money and left with 10,000 francs in treasury bonds (about 2,800 euros today).
Two days later, on Rue Marx Dormoy, the lifeless body of 84-year-old Alice Benaim was discovered. She had been strangled, her hands and feet bound tightly with electrical wires. Alice had been subjected to unspeakable cruelty, as her killer forced her to ingest drain cleaning detergent. In the end, he fled with less than 500 francs.
The following day, Alice’s neighbour, Marie Chois, 80 years old, also fell victim to a brutal attack in which she was tortured and suffocated, all for only 300 francs. The very next day, yet another body was discovered. 75-year-old Maria Micodia’s assailant had suffocated her with a dishcloth and inflicted multiple stab wounds. In an act of particular cruelty, he had severed one of her fingers. The motive appeared to be the same: a theft of just 200 to 300 francs.
By this time, there was a clear pattern to the crimes: victims were all elderly women, ranging in age from 64 to 94. Each attack took place in broad daylight, after the victim had been out to run errands. Once inside, he would launch a brutal attack, often strangling them or suffocating them by placing a plastic bag over their heads, before ransacking their apartments for valuables. Many of the victims were found with their hands and feet bound, suggesting a level of sadism that went beyond mere robbery. Some had been tortured before being killed, their bodies bearing the marks of severe beatings: bruises, cuts, broken ribs...
What made the crimes particularly chilling was his victim selection. While all of them fit a certain profile, there was no evidence that he stalked or premeditated his attacks. Instead, he seemed to choose his victims opportunistically, striking whenever he saw a vulnerable target, at the optimal time. This randomness made it incredibly difficult for the police to predict where he might strike next or to protect potential victims. It also added to the climate of fear in Montmartre, as residents realised that anyone could be next.
One of the most frustrating aspects of the investigation was the lack of physical evidence. The killer was careful, rarely leaving behind fingerprints or other traceable clues. The few fingerprints that were found didn't match any in the police database, suggesting that the perpetrator had no prior criminal record.
As the body count rose, panic began to spread through Montmartre and surrounding areas. The neighbourhood, once known for its vibrant arts scene and picturesque streets, now felt like a hunting ground. Elderly women, now acutely aware of their vulnerability, adapted their daily routines, no longer venturing out alone, even for simple errands, but instead moving about in groups for safety.
The police were under immense pressure to solve the case, but they struggled to find any substantial leads. The killer seemed to strike at random, leaving little physical evidence behind. The only consistent factor was the profile of the victims: elderly women living alone in Montmartre.
The police deployed 120 officers around Montmartre and Sacré-Cœur. In an effort to protect residents, local council provided escorts to accompany the elderly if they had to go to the bank to withdraw money. This gave them a sense of security, however, the attacks continued and police did not seem to make much progress in the investigation.
Investigators also faced challenges in establishing a clear timeline of the crimes. Many of the victims lived alone and weren't in regular contact with family or friends, meaning that in some cases, bodies weren't discovered until days after the murders had taken place. This delay made it difficult to pinpoint exact times of death or to track the killer's movements.
The killer's ability to gain entry to his victims' homes without force suggested that he was charming and able to gain people's trust quickly. Alternatively, he was brutishly strong and simply overpowered them. The severity of the attacks, often involving torture beyond what was necessary for robbery, indicated a deep-seated anger or hatred towards his victims.
As the investigation continued, detectives began to suspect that there might be more than one perpetrator involved. Some of the attacks seemed to involve two assailants, based on witness statements and the nature of the injuries inflicted on the victims.
At the end of 1984, police were investigating eight murders and a couple of attacks with the same hallmarks. However, as 1985 rolled on, the attacks seemed to slow down. There were fewer reported incidents, and for a brief period, it seemed as though the killer might have stopped. This lull gave the residents of Montmartre a brief respite from the constant fear they had been living under. However, it also presented new questions.
Lead investigator, Detective Chabannier and his team were left to wonder: Why had the killer stopped? Had he moved to a different area? Or was he simply lying low, waiting for the right moment to strike again? The lack of new evidence made it difficult to maintain momentum in the investigation, and public interest in the case began to wane.
However, this pause in crimes proved to be temporary as a second wave of attacks commenced in December 1985, when 91-year-old Estelle Donjou was discovered strangled in her home in the 14th arrondissement. Two weeks later, 77-year-old Andrée Ladame was killed in a similar manner. Just five days after that, 83-year-old Yvon Couronne became the next victim.
Police began to question whether this new series of murders could be connected to the killings from 1984. The methods had changed – there were no signs of binding or torture this time. However, investigators soon uncovered a crucial piece of evidence: identical fingerprints left at the new crime scenes. It was undeniable: The Monster of Montmartre had made his return, and was casting his net wider, into other districts of Paris’ inner city.
The renewed attention brought both benefits and challenges for the investigation. On one hand, it kept the case in the public eye and encouraged people to come forward with information. On the other hand, it also put immense pressure on the police to produce results, leading to rushed decisions and false leads.
During this period, several suspects were arrested and questioned, only to be released due to lack of evidence. In fact, more than 150,000 men were asked to provide fingerprints, but this still yielded no results.
By the end of June 1986, the police were no closer to catching the killer, and the residents of Paris were living in a state of constant fear. Then, in August, the attacks stopped again. This time, police and local residents remained on high alert, as they knew the killer could resurface as suddenly as he had done previously. Their respite would last for just over a year, until November 25, 1987, when 79-year-old Rachel Cohen was found murdered in her apartment. On the same day, the Monster attacked an 87-year-old woman, Rose Finalteri, whom he suffocated and left for dead. Two days later, he strangled Genevieve Germont, who would be his last victim.
Miraculously, Madame Finalteri recovered, and was able to provide an accurate description of her attacker, stating that he was:
"A mixed-race man in his twenties, with hair like Carl Lewis and an earring in his left ear.”
On December 1, Commissioner Jacob, head of the 10th arrondissement's police station, was speaking with local shopkeepers when he noticed a man who perfectly matched the composite sketch. Jacob stopped the man and asked for identification – the man turned out to be 24-year-old Thierry Paulin. The officer asked Paulin to accompany him to the station, which he did without hesitation.
Fingerprint comparison confirmed Paulin was the killer they had been looking for for three years. During his initial questioning, Paulin was defiant and uncooperative. However, faced with overwhelming evidence, he began to talk. What he revealed during his interrogation was horrifying… He confessed to a string of murders, providing details that only the killer could have known.
His confession also confirmed the police's suspicion that there had been more victims than they had initially thought. Although Paulin was questioned about the killing of 18 elderly women, he hinted that the actual number was 21. He described his crimes in chilling detail, showing little remorse for his actions.
According to reports, Paulin allegedly targeted women who appeared unfriendly or cold during interactions. In his statement to police, Paulin said:
"I only approached the weakest of them."
Paulin also admitted that he hadn't acted alone. He implicated his partner, Jean-Thierry Mathurin, as an accomplice in many of the murders. Mathurin was quickly arrested, and under questioning, he too began to confess his involvement in the crimes.
It was unsettling to hear how Paulin went about his flamboyant life, despite being France’s most wanted serial killer. While the police scoured the city for him, he lived it up in bars around Les Halles and Palais Royale, spending stolen cash on champagne and cocaine binges.
When Paulin murdered his last victim, Geneviève Germont, he hit the jackpot, stealing several thousand francs. The next day, he celebrated his birthday in grand style, reserving a restaurant near Les Halles and inviting 50 people to join him. He paid for everything in cash with Geneviève’s money.
One of Paulin’s associates recalled that he would often say he was ‘going to the bank’ or ‘going to work’. Horrified in hindsight, they realised that is when he was heading out to find a new victim.
The arrests of Paulin and Mathurin brought a sense of relief to the residents of Montmartre, but also raised disturbing questions. How had these two men managed to evade capture for so long? Why had they targeted elderly women? And what had driven them to commit such brutal acts?
Police were able to confirm that, in late 1985, when the attacks in Montmartre seemed to slow down, Thierry Paulin left Paris. He had moved to the south of France with Mathurin. The pair lived off the proceeds of their crimes, indulging in a lavish lifestyle fuelled by drugs and partying. During this time, they stayed with Paulin’s father, who did not like Mathurin. The couple broke up and Mathurin moved back to Paris.
Paulin stayed on in Toulouse and started an artist collective for cross-dressers, but it failed. Despondent, Paulin returned to Paris, where he resumed his toxic relationship with Mathurin. And before long, their killing spree continued with a vengeance. The pair had developed a system, with Paulin usually carrying out the attacks while Mathurin acted as a lookout. This teamwork made their crimes even more efficient and difficult to detect.
As the investigation continued, a clearer picture of Paulin and Mathurin's motives began to emerge. Both men were struggling with drug addiction, particularly to cocaine, and many of their crimes had been committed to fund their habit. However, the extreme violence of their attacks suggested that there was more to their actions than simple robbery.
During the second lull in killings, in 1985, Thierry Paulin was actually serving time in prison. The reason for his incarceration had nothing to do with the murders, however. He had gotten into a violent dispute with his drug dealer over product quality. The confrontation had escalated to Paulin assaulting the dealer with a baseball bat. When the dealer pressed charges, Paulin was arrested and brought to trial in August 1985. He received a 16-month sentence, though he ultimately served only 12 months before being released.
Psychological evaluations of Paulin revealed a deeply troubled individual. Born on November 28, 1963, in Fort-de-France, Martinique, a French overseas territory in the Caribbean, Paulin's early life was marked by instability and abandonment.
Paulin's mother left him in the care of his paternal grandmother when he was just a young child. Growing up without his parents, he struggled to find his place in the world. Yet, despite this challenging start, those who knew him as a child described him as a bright and charming boy, albeit one who often felt out of place in the conservative Caribbean society. His grandmother, a restauranteur, did not have much time for her grandson. Psychologists would later speculate whether his grandmother’s indifference towards him (after being abandoned by both his parents) is what caused a grown-up Paulin to despise elderly women.
At the age of 10, Paulin lived with his mother and her new family for a while, but it didn’t quite work out. When he was 16, his mother convinced his father, who lived in France, to take him in. Thierry – a mixed-race kid from a broken home in a predominantly white school - never quite fit in there either. He also struggled academically and when he turned 17, enlisted in the army. By this time he was openly gay and suffered discrimination because of it.
In 1984, when he left the army, he learned that his mother and her family had moved to Paris, so he moved in with them. Again, he did not fit in with his half-siblings and after many outbursts, he decided to leave his mother’s home for good.
The City of Light, with its promise of freedom and acceptance, must have seemed like a dream to the young man from Martinique. However, the reality of life in the big city would prove to be far from what he had imagined. On his own, Paulin struggled to find steady work and took on various odd jobs, mainly in hospitality.
He found himself increasingly drawn into the Parisian nightlife, mostly the gay nightclub scene. He took a job as a waiter at a drag cabaret club, starting with busking tables, and eventually took to the stage in the nightly show. Reportedly he invited his mother to come and watch him perform, but she left only seconds into his number.
It was in this world that Paulin began to experiment with drugs, particularly cocaine. His drug use escalated quickly, and soon he found himself addicted and desperate for money to fuel his habit. This desperation would ultimately drive him to commit his heinous crimes.
Paulin's physical appearance was striking. Standing at 6'3", he was an imposing figure. He often wore makeup and had long, manicured nails – a look that made him stand out in a crowd. It was this recognisable look, however, that helped police identify him in the end.
In 1982, Paulin met Jean-Thierry Mathurin, who would become both his lover and his accomplice in crime. Mathurin was from French Guiana and had come to Paris seeking a better life. The two bonded over their shared background and their struggles in the city.
This toxic combination of factors – his troubled childhood, drug addiction, desperation for money, created the perfect storm that would transform Thierry Paulin from a troubled young man into one of France's most notorious serial killers.
The case against Paulin and Mathurin was strong. Physical evidence tied them to multiple crime scenes, and their confessions provided details that only the perpetrators could have known. As the prosecution prepared its case, it became clear that this would be one of the most high-profile trials in French criminal history.
The trial of Thierry Paulin and Jean-Thierry Mathurin was set to begin in early 1989. However, fate had other plans. While in prison, Paulin learned he was HIV-positive. In the 1980s, an HIV diagnosis was essentially a death sentence, with effective treatments still years away. On April 16, 1989, just months before his trial was due to start, Thierry Paulin died in prison from AIDS-related complications. His death at the age of 25 meant that he would never face justice in a courtroom for his crimes.
Paulin's death left many feeling cheated of closure. The families of his victims, who had been hoping to see him answer for his crimes, were denied that opportunity. It also meant that many questions about the full extent of his crimes would remain unanswered forever.
With Paulin's death, the focus of the case shifted entirely to Jean-Thierry Mathurin. His trial began in November 1989 and lasted for several weeks. The courtroom was packed each day with journalists, curious members of the public, and relatives of the victims, all eager to understand how these horrific crimes had been allowed to happen.
During the trial, Mathurin's role in the murders was laid bare. While he had not personally killed any of the victims, he had been present for many of the attacks, acting as a lookout and helping to plan the crimes. He was also implicated in the robbery and assault of several survivors.
Mathurin's defense team attempted to portray him as a victim of Paulin's influence, arguing that he had been coerced into participating in the crimes. However, the prosecution presented evidence of Mathurin's willing involvement, including his admissions during questioning and physical evidence linking him to multiple crime scenes.
After deliberation, the jury found Mathurin guilty of complicity in multiple murders, attempted murders, and robberies. He was sentenced to life in prison, with a minimum of 18 years before the possibility of parole.
The conclusion of Mathurin's trial brought a measure of closure to the case, but it also left many lingering questions. How had Paulin and Mathurin managed to evade capture for so long? Could more have been done to protect vulnerable elderly residents? And were there more victims who had never been identified?
In the aftermath of the trial, there was a great deal of soul-searching within the Paris police force and the broader French justice system. The case had exposed significant shortcomings in how crimes against the elderly were investigated and how information was shared between different police departments.
As a result of the Paulin case, several changes were implemented. There was a renewed focus on protecting vulnerable elderly residents, with increased community policing efforts and better support systems put in place. The police also improved their methods for tracking and analyzing patterns in violent crimes, hoping to identify serial offenders more quickly in the future.
The Paulin-Mathurin case also had a lasting impact on French popular culture. It inspired numerous books, documentaries, and even a feature film. The image of the "Monster of Montmartre" became a chilling part of Parisian urban legend.
In the years since the case, there have been ongoing debates about the factors that led to Paulin and Mathurin's crimes. Some point to their troubled backgrounds and drug addiction as contributing factors, while others see their actions as evidence of pure evil. The truth, as is often the case in such complex and disturbing crimes, likely lies somewhere in between.
What is clear is that the case of Thierry Paulin and Jean-Thierry Mathurin remains one of the most shocking and impactful criminal cases in French history. It exposed vulnerabilities in society's treatment of both the elderly and marginalized youth, and raised important questions about the justice system.
Today, Montmartre has largely recovered from the shadow of these crimes. Tourists once again flock to its charming streets and iconic views of Paris. But for those who remember, there's a quiet acknowledgment of the dark chapter in the neighbourhood's history. They know, that even in the City of Light, darkness can sometimes find a foothold. It's a chapter of criminal history that continues to fascinate and disturb, decades after the last victim fell prey to Paulin and Mathurin's reign of terror.
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This was The Evidence Locker. Thank you for listening!