Arthur Seale was more than diligent in his planning, authorities would later maintain. He and his wife had carefully chosen their target. In Sidney Reso, they found a man who was not only of immense value to Exxon, but who also cared little for the trappings of his position, and tended to eschew the security measures other executives employed.
He was also a man of set habits, as Seale learned during an extensive surveillance operation he conducted in Reso's wealthy, tree-lined neighborhood. He left the house every morning at just about the same time, a little before 7 a.m., and every morning, he would stroll the 200 feet to the end of his driveway, alone and unconcerned that he was, to pick up the daily newspaper.
He was also a man unlikely to put up much of fight. Which is one of the reasons that prosecutors were always skeptical of Seale's claim that the gunshot that wounded Reso in the arm was fired accidentally and that Seale never intended for Reso to die.
Why would a security expert and a veteran police officer with nine years on the force, be so careless with his weapon, they wondered? More to the point, given Seale's background and training, why would he then leave his wounded hostage to suffer, virtually untreated, with nothing but over-the-counter analgesics to dull the pain?
It wasn't just that he left him untreated — though, as he says, Reso was provided with water and an orange during his three days of torture along with the Tylenol. Reso was virtually entombed. In the days leading up to the kidnapping, Seale had constructed a wooden box, no bigger than a standard coffin, and far less luxurious than most. Reso's eyes and mouth were taped shut and he was bound with ropes.