Gone Girls: The Long Island Serial Killer Docuseries Coming to Netflix

It took a terrified 911 call from a young woman named Shannan Gilbert to expose what had been hiding in plain sight—eleven sets of remains scattered along Gilgo Beach, the work of a serial killer who had eluded justice for decades.

In May 2010, Shannan disappeared after placing a frantic 22-minute call to 911, insisting that someone was trying to kill her. She ran through the quiet gated community of Oak Beach, banging on doors for help, before vanishing into the marshland. It wasn’t just her sudden disappearance that rattled Suffolk County—it was what investigators stumbled upon during the search for her. In the thick brush off Ocean Parkway, police discovered a set of human remains. And then another. And another. By the time they were done, there were 11 victims—nine women, one toddler, and one man.

It was a horrifying find, but even worse, it begged a question: How did no one notice this sooner?

For years, the investigation dragged with no real traction. Families begged for answers. Reporters pressed. The public speculated. And all the while, Suffolk County PD maintained tight control over the case. But in the background, something else was quietly rotting—police leadership. Specifically, then-Police Chief James Burke, who was later convicted in a corruption scandal involving the beating of a handcuffed suspect and a massive coverup operation. That kind of mess didn’t just tarnish reputations—it likely delayed justice.

Fast-forward 13 years. On July 14, 2023, police arrested Rex Heuermann, a 59-year-old architect from Massapequa Park. He lived a seemingly ordinary life, commuting to Midtown Manhattan for work and returning home to a quiet suburban street. But authorities now say Heuermann is connected to at least seven of the victims—and possibly more.

So how did they finally catch him?

The answer lies in a long-overdue task force that, within weeks of being formed in 2022 under new leadership, connected the dots that had been missed—or ignored—for over a decade. Cell phone data, burner phones, search history, and DNA evidence from pizza crust—yes, pizza crust—all pointed directly to Heuermann. Turns out, all of that evidence had been sitting in police files for years.

The new Netflix docuseries Gone Girls: The Long Island Serial Killer, directed by Liz Garbus, picks up where justice left off. Garbus doesn’t just walk us through the crime scenes—she drags the system into the light. It’s raw, it’s personal, and it doesn’t let the viewer look away.

Garbus is no stranger to this story. Back in 2020, she directed Lost Girls, a scripted film based on Robert Kolker’s book, which centered on Mari Gilbert’s relentless fight for justice after her daughter Shannan vanished. After Heuermann’s arrest, actress Amy Ryan—who portrayed Mari in the film—texted Garbus in shock: the suspect had once been in her apartment building. A literal brush with evil.

That eerie personal connection sent Garbus straight back to the families. She knew this story wasn’t over—and it wasn’t just about one killer. It was about how a system failed to care until a case landed on its front lawn.

The documentary doesn’t hold back. It features first-person accounts from survivors and friends of the victims, including women who once worked in the sex trade and shared chilling stories about close calls with Heuermann. One woman, Taylor, tells the harrowing tale of being lured into a house where she believes someone else was trapped upstairs. Her story is laced with trauma, but also strength. She, and others like her, speak now because they couldn’t before.

The first episode focuses heavily on Shannan Gilbert, and for good reason. Her case was the catalyst. Her 911 call was the moment that broke the dam. Unlike many of the other victims, Shannan’s disappearance came with undeniable evidence—an actual recording of her begging for help. And even then, it took years for police to release that audio to the public. Without her, the Gilgo case might still be buried beneath the sand.

Episode 2 pivots to the corruption scandal. Burke’s behavior didn’t just stain the department—it made families feel invisible. It validated what victims’ relatives had been saying all along: that their daughters weren’t taken seriously. That police leadership didn’t care. That sex workers could disappear without a ripple. And the fact that a fresh task force—formed under a new district attorney and command—was able to identify a suspect in just six weeks? That speaks volumes.

Garbus’s documentary doesn’t sensationalize. It humanizes. It lets us meet the women whose lives were lost, not just their mugshots. It invites viewers to understand how those in the sex industry looked out for one another in ways law enforcement didn’t. Through Craigslist and cell phones, they created safety plans. They warned each other. They were resourceful, str