America has a pantheon of ghouls, where the bloodiest of villainies earns an assurance of immortality. And now there are two more candidates for this hellish hall of fame.
Henry Louis Wallace was smooth -- very, very smooth. Listeners tuning into WBAW-FM in Barnwell, South Carolina, during the late evening hours four years ago responded positively to Wallace, a.k.a. "Night Rider," a silky-voiced disk jockey who favored urban contemporary music. Women, taken with his sweet smile, solicitous attitude and pleasant looks, trusted him all along. They invited him to their homes for dinner, watched while he cradled their babies in his...
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