
When he was 3, his mother died, followed by his 12-year-old brother a year later. "My main suspect at this time is Dominic Badaracco Sr., who is the last person to see the victim alive, had a history of extramarital affairs and domestic violence," Bukowski said.ĭominic Badaracco was born in Danbury. Testifying during the 2009 trial of a man who was found not guilty on charges of interfering with the state police investigation of Mary Badaracco's disappearance, Major Crime Squad Detective Joe Bukowski pointed the finger directly at him. The police investigative files on Badaracco are thick with reports about how he beat up Mary, how he threatened business rivals that he'd leave them in a "pool of blood." Another son, Joe, is a former Hells Angel who went to prison in 1990 for hiring two men to firebomb a bar in New Fairfield that competed with one his father owned nearby. The murder investigation and bribery charge are just the most sensational elements of a no-holds-barred life laced with violence and menace.īadaracco's oldest son, Dominic Jr., was gunned down in a Danbury bar on Super Bowl Sunday in 1997. On June 10, jury selection will begin in his trial in state Superior Court in Bridgeport. What prosecutors do say they've found is evidence that Badaracco sought to bribe a state Superior Court judge to influence a grand jury investigation into Mary's murder. Numerous times since her daughters reported the 38-year-old former barmaid missing, State Police - using dogs and ground-penetrating radar - have searched the house, outbuildings and the heavily wooded tract around them, looking for her body or some evidence that would indicate her fate. What they've read is this: For years, Badaracco's name has been virtually synonymous with investigations aimed at finding out what happened to his second wife, Mary, who vanished from their Wakeman Hill Road home in August 1984. "Just tell people not to believe everything they've read." Before the door closes she has something to say: Hovering at Badaracco's shoulder is his wife, Joan. "If my lawyer says it's OK, I'll talk to you," he says. "From Danbury," he says, a statement rather than a question.īadaracco is soft-spoken and pleasant, more a grandfatherly figure than the intimidating, volcanic personality described by some who've crossed him.Īlmost apologetically, he says he can't talk about his upcoming trial.
