At other times, he reportedly claimed to be an insurance investigator or a rare metals expert.
He told a realtor that he had been a writer for the Wall Street Journal. Durst was essentially a computer illiterate when he arrived in Humboldt, and apparently incapable of typing as well.
]" In another handwritten note that Durst reportedly faxed to Bueche, he declared: "I'd love to joust with you, but you might crush me like a bug. Maybe I'll get to bite you real good before I'm cornered." Those who knew Durst in Trinidad recall an odd little man ("a weird, weird dude," said one; "a very strange guy" and "spooky," said another) who threw his money around with a small coterie of acquaintance, and who talked big but whose stories never quite added up.
The outgoing, well-off Bueche was "a bon-vivant" to her friends (many called her "Bo") who owned and managed several properties in Humboldt and Trinity counties.
She quickly became Durst's friend, confidante and social guide to the North Coast.
Bueche would later say that they stayed in touch by phone, email, fax and letters.
In one letter Durst sent to Bueche (a copy of which was provided by Matt Birkbeck, author of ), he reportedly said that he had "so much fucking energy these days I feel like the top of my head is coming off." He cryptically mentioned rearranging the furniture in Bueche's bedroom and upgrading his burglar alarm.