She was discovered in a millionaire’s mansion—naked, bound, and gagged—yet investigators ruled it suicide within hours. Thirteen years later, the evidence still points to something far more sinister.
The Body That Should Have Started a Homicide Case
On the morning of July 13, 2011, a man dialed 911 from a mansion in Coronado, California — a coastal paradise reserved for the ultra-rich. The man was Adam Shacknai, brother of a wealthy pharmaceutical CEO. He had just discovered a woman’s naked body hanging from a second-story balcony, her wrists and ankles bound, her mouth gagged with a T-shirt, a rope wrapped tightly around her neck.
The woman was 32-year-old Rebecca Zahau. And within hours, the San Diego Sheriff’s Department made what would become one of the most contested rulings in recent criminal history: they called it a suicide.
From the beginning, the case didn’t add up. The crime scene was as bizarre as it was gruesome: Rebecca’s hands were tied behind her back, her feet bound separately. Black paint had been used to scrawl the cryptic phrase “She saved him, can he save her?” on a nearby door. The message referenced an incident just two days prior — a tragic accident involving Rebecca’s boyfriend’s six-year-old son, Max, who had fallen from a staircase while in her care. He would die five days later from his injuries.
Investigators claimed Rebecca was wracked with guilt and had chosen a violent, ritualistic way to end her own life. But her family didn’t believe it. And neither did a growing chorus of internet sleuths, forensic experts, and eventually, a jury.
The Mansion, the Millionaire, and the Fall
To understand the full weight of the mystery, you have to understand the setting. The Spreckels Mansion — a 27-room historic estate on the shores of Coronado — belonged to Jonah Shacknai, CEO of a pharmaceutical company worth millions. Rebecca Zahau was his girlfriend, a Burmese immigrant working as a technician who had seemingly fallen in love with a much older man in a very different world.
In the days before her death, Rebecca had been caring for Jonah’s young son, Max, when he reportedly tripped and fell over a banister. The boy suffered severe injuries and was rushed to the hospital. Jonah was devastated. Rebecca, according to texts and calls, was beside herself with grief. Two days later, she was dead — hanging from a balcony by a red nautical rope, her body exposed to the courtyard below.
The night she died, the only other person reportedly in the mansion was Adam Shacknai, Jonah’s brother, who was staying in the guesthouse. Adam told police he found her body early in the morning, cut her down, and called 911. But his calm demeanor during the call, and the lack of urgency in his voice, raised eyebrows.
The Autopsy, the Paint, and the Lawsuit
The autopsy revealed even more disturbing details: multiple blunt-force injuries to Rebecca’s head, hemorrhaging in her neck muscles, and signs of restraint. Officials argued she may have hit her head while flinging herself over the railing, despite the fact that the bindings on her limbs would have made this near impossible to execute alone.
Rebecca’s fingerprints were not found on the paint used for the door message. There were no signs she had written it. There were also no traces of dirt or rope fibers on her feet, which should have been present if she had walked to the balcony, thrown the rope over, and hoisted herself. Despite all of this, the Sheriff’s Department doubled down: suicide. No evidence of foul play, they said.
But in 2018, everything shifted. Rebecca’s family filed a wrongful death civil lawsuit against Adam Shacknai. The jury sided with the family. After hearing evidence the police ignored — including expert testimony about how difficult it would have been for Rebecca to bind herself — they found Adam responsible for her death. The verdict? He was ordered to pay over $5 million in damages.
Adam, for his part, has always denied involvement. The Sheriff’s Department, remarkably, still refuses to reopen the case.
The Silence That Followed
There are still no criminal charges. Despite the civil jury’s findings, the case remains officially closed. The Sheriff’s Department insists that they conducted a thorough investigation. They cite lack of DNA evidence, the absence of signs of forced entry, and the idea that a woman wracked with guilt could have acted out a violent, symbolic suicide.
But Rebecca’s family and their supporters argue that what really happened was a cover-up — a rush to protect a wealthy family, a refusal to admit that the initial ruling was flawed, and a failure of the justice system to question the story it told too early. To this day, there are people who believe the message on the door was not a note of grief, but a taunt.
People who believe Rebecca was silenced. And people who still ask the most basic question: how can you call it suicide when nothing about it looks like one?
