Archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ Category


16 years later: Rebecca family’s murders remain unsolved
Newton Sheriff’s Office seeks public’s help in solving mystery of girl’s death
Memories flood back on Branson’s murder anniversary
Reading the signs: as Taos woman’s disappearance nears 2-year mark, a father still hopes
After 48 years, Jane Doe has a name
The Oakland County Child Killer Case Presentation April 4th


Yesterday’s Crimes: The Zodiac Killer DNA Profile That Never Was
Crime Stoppers Cold Case: Seeking new information in the 1984 murder of Janet Newman
Search and rescue group reviews records for clues in unsolved disappearance of B.C. plane
Sign depicting missing woman stabbed
What really happened to Marianne Schuett?
A Tale of 2 Men and 1 Murder Confession
‘It doesn’t make sense:’ The mysterious death of Kristy Kelley


After 51 years, police recover remains believed to be of missing Cutchogue woman
5 were killed with an ax near Millstadt. 144 years later, the crimes remain unsolved
Police need help solving 2013 murder of 20-year-old Hot Springs woman
14 years later, Vermont State Police investigate active leads in Brianna Maitland disappearance
Family of woman killed by crossbow 20 years ago still seeking justice
Tip in Mesa 11-year-old’s disappearance shows up on dollar bill in Wisconsin
Mystery of missing N.B. teen haunts family, eludes police for three decades
State Police still investigating 38-year-old cold case
Michigan woman remains committed to finding sister missing for more than 40 years


58 from PA who went missing as children more than 5 years ago
Who is John Vansice? Arizona man remains a ‘person of interest’ in Jodi Huisentruit case, police say
DNA tech brings new light to 28-year-old Arkansas murder
Mother of Franklin County man missing since 2013 says she’ll ‘never give up hope’
Wooden cross nailed to tree at site where Allison Foy died
CRIME HUNTER: Are truckers more likely to be serial killers?
Killer’s path long, gory: Wayne Garrison’s own grandmother told of his cruelty


Family at dead end searching for information on missing daughter Krystie Stuart
Case of missing New Brunswick teen remains a mystery more than 30 years later
28 years missing: The Millbrook twins’ family still searching for answers
Police renew push for tips on anniversary of teen Karen Caughlin’s 1974 death
Who Killed Shelley Connors?
Buried: Three-part Carey Mae Parker Podcast


Throwback longreads about still-missing children:

Weckler kidnapping 70 years ago: girl’s May Day disappearance remains mystery
Vanishing Act: Six years after the fact, the disappearance of nine-year-old Christian Ferguson remains a mystery
25 years later, Leigh Occhi case remains a mystery
10 years pass, Jaquilla Scales still missing
Buddy Myers: The little boy who vanished without a trace
Little girl lost: Remembering Katie Worsky after 25 years (companion piece:
Glenn Barker:Serial killer or convenient scapegoat?)


Report: Police serve search warrant connected to Jodi Huisentruit cold case
National network shining light on more than 40-year Visalia cold case
Betteridge’s law of headlines: Was One Man Responsible for Killing JonBenét, Black Dahlia & More?
An update in Natalee Holloway’s death saga
Psychics tell family where they’ll find missing Royal Lakes woman
Family hopes drone will help find answers in whereabouts of Desirea Ferris
50-year search for justice: retired detective carries on the quest for the killer of Alice Lee


Where is Brandy Hall, Episode one: A Detective’s Last Case
Search for missing women rescheduled
Montreal: Gone, but not forgotten
Another potential clue found in Holly Cantrell’s disappearance
Pulaski County’s Most Notorious: Murders
DPS increases reward for 2003 cold case murder of Cynthia Palacio
Jupiter teen, killed 28 years ago, to ‘speak’ via social media
Suzette Langlois’ daughters, police reflect on new details surrounding murder investigation
The ‘Keeper’ Of JonBenét Ramsey’s Tricycle Has A Documentary Ready To Rock


Attempted kidnapper who was fatally stabbed claims he disposed of Natalee Holloway’s body
47 years later, brother of murdered college student still wants justice
Straw hat could be key to solving 1970 murder of Brinks security guard
20 years after Sabrina Aisenberg vanished her parents hope she could be on her way home
Grosse Pointe woman: My mom was killed in a cover-up and I’ll prove it
Bones found in Buckeye awaiting DNA analysis, could clear speculation about Jesse Wilson
The CDC says its missing researcher wasn’t denied a promotion. Police say otherwise.
Searching for Bethany Part 2 (From last week: Part 1)
Jennifer Odom: After 25 years, a mother’s grief and questions remain (Related: photo gallery)


FBI offers $15K reward for missing teen boy who saw father killed
Baltimore-bound USS Cyclops vanished 100 years ago. Its fate remains a mystery
Sense of Mystery Deepens Over Slaying of Family
How 1,600 People Went Missing from Our Public Lands Without a Trace
Double Murder Still Unsolved After 28 Years


The Unsolved Murder of the Mysterious Ida Lowry
Young kids rarely vanish. But it’s happened in Kansas at least six times since 1977
Detectives seek new leads in Clark Co. cold case: ‘She remains missing to this day’
Cousin’s disappearance fuels bus driver’s passion to find the missing
Muncie father continues search for daughter, 4 years after her disappearance
Memorial stone planned for long-missing Mary Lands
RCMP Historical Homicide Unit races against time to solve Alberta cold cases


‘You think about it every day:’ 13 years since Bianca Piper disappeared
COLD CASE: Witnesses sought in killing of Knox artist who died within walking distance of home
He killed 3 people in SC with a hatchet – and there may be more victims, sheriff says
Appalachian Unsolved: Cross-country trip ends in Canadian’s mysterious death in Knoxville
CRIME HUNTER: Cops closing in on cold case killers
North Carolina man arrested for 1986 slaying of 15-year-old Tracy Gilpin


Colleen Cason: New focus heats up Ventura cold case
Family pleads to find Marilyn Wallman’s killer four decades after disappearance
$25,000 Reward Offered for Model and Actress Who Vanished in Los Angeles
Jenkins and Lawrence say DNA evidence exonerates them in Meagher murder case
Still no sign of retired Dallas firefighter one year later
The 1983 slaying of Susan Shearin Clary, a case that continues to haunt the Roanoke Valley
Frozen in fear: Friend of Edmonton victim fears killer four decades later


Hope I’m wrong but I had an epiphany about the EAR/ONS Shrinky-Dink Killer the other day; police are going to identify him and show up at his house . . . forty-eight hours after he dies peacefully in his sleep.

Sun City woman survived rape by serial killer in 1976. She wants you to help find him
New investigation of decade-old Oklahoma cold case identifies a suspect
$3K reward offered for hero in case of missing Andrews woman
Police suspect sketch from Sioux Lookout raises eyebrows in Sudbury
Severed hand mystery takes SHOCK TWIST as cops discover 54 human fists buried in SNOW
Could new national DNA database provide a break in one of Alberta’s most gruesome cold cases?


Unsolved 1990 Clarkston homicide case reopened
New focus on the 28-year-old Amy Mihaljevic murder case that haunts Bay Village
Man’s mysterious abduction unsolved 5 weeks later
Tree in Lucas Hernandez photo connected to case from decades earlier
Searching for Bethany
Search for Ryan Shtuka goes on
Mysterious witness cracks shocking CQ murder cold case open
Police Say They’re Getting Close to Arrest in Murder of 93-year-old Sioux Falls Grandmother


The macabre story of Vladimir Messer
New clues emerge in case of Metro Detroit nurse murdered while jogging
Arson killing 7 family members still unsolved, still haunts loved ones
Still no leads three years after Atascocita couple brutally murdered during home robbery
Finding Cleo: CBC podcast solves decades-old mystery of Saskatchewan girl lost in Sixties Scoop
$10,000 reward offered in East Bay cold case murder of house sitter during home invasion robbery
‘I believe they’ll find him’: Woman spent her life trying to solve mystery of husband’s 1956 disappearance


SC boy was sexually assaulted and strangled. 29 years later, his killing is unsolved
Family continues to search two months after their parents disappear from Arizona
State Police seeking info on 1973 ‘Double Initial’ murder victim Wanda Lee Walkowicz, 11
An Exclusive Extract From ‘I’ll Be Gone In The Dark’ By Michelle McNamara
Man questioned in 2013 missing persons case released from prison
Parents of Annie McCann, found dead in Baltimore of ‘Bactine poisoning,’ press Gov. Hogan to intervene
Man believes discovery of woman’s remains solves decades-long family mystery


Mystery of Michigan family slaughtered in their log cabin in 1968 remains unsolved
TWISTED TROPHY: Cops release shock photo of suspected victim of alleged serial killer Bruce McArthur
VSP Pursuing New Leads in Alicia Showalter Reynolds Homicide
Springfield officer recalls conversations with daughter after father’s disappearance
On the evening of Feb. 2, 1990, Pam Felkins was abducted from the Crossroads Video store in Greenbrier
Walker County detectives say they won’t give up on 37-year-old murder mystery
Police, family ask the public for help in the 14-year-old missing persons case of teenager Brianna Maitland
Convicted Killer Charged With 1986 Double Homicide Of East Bay Women


Brett Cantor was murdered twice, first by the person who stabbed him to death and then by the conspiracy theorists who hijacked his slaying in an attempt to exonerate O.J. Simpson. To date, both crimes remain unpunished.

On July 30th, 1993 Brett Cantor, age twenty-five, was found murdered in his West Hollywood apartment;
his throat had been slashed and he’d been stabbed repeatedly in the torso.
An A&R executive at Chrysalis Music Group, Brett was a well-known tastemaker in the Los Angeles music scene;
an early backer of the band Rage Against the Machine,
he had also helped Jane’s Addiction obtain its debut recording contract.
Although he’d been sober for years Brett was a fixture of Hollywood nightlife; he owned ten percent of a nightclub called Dragonfly, then located at 6510 Santa Monica Boulevard,
and he was last seen leaving another Hollywood hotspot, Club 434, in the early morning hours the day of his murder.

The LAPD has been tight-lipped about the crime; Brett’s state of dress, the presence or absence of ransacking or theft at the scene, his time of death
and the precise circumstances surrounding his body’s discovery all remain a mystery.

“That’s when I met Brett Cantor, the Pied Piper of People, aka the Mayor of Dragonfly. He co-owned the club as well. Brett had blue-blue eyes and short, platinum, shaved hair. He was lovely. Funny as fuck.” Rose McGowan, Brave (2018)

According to her recent autobiography, actress Rose McGowan was dating Brett at the time of his death.
As recollected in Brave, the couple met at Dragonfly shortly before the murder,
and Rose credits Brett’s support with helping her flee an abusive relationship and overcome an eating disorder.
After Brett’s death Rose began dating his brother Cliff Cantor, who succumbed to an accidental overdose in 2014.

“[Brett will] always have a piece of my heart. The case is still unsolved but I have been trying for years to remedy that.” Rose McGowan, Brave (2018)

Enter the Juiceman: one year later, on June 12th, 1994 O.J. Simpson’s ex-wife and her friend Ronald Goldman were stabbed to death in Brentwood,
an exclusive enclave approximately thirty-minutes from West Hollywood.
Desperate for additional murders which could conceivably be connected—thereby elevating the crime from a textbook domestic homicide—O.J. Simpson’s legal team petitioned to view the evidence in Brett’s case;
Judge Lance Ito granted the request.
Although there is no evidence Brett knew either victim
Ron Goldman had once worked at Dragonfly part-time and Nicole Simpson had frequented the club on several occasions; from these tenuous connections a plague of conspiracy theories were loosed upon the world.

“O.J. defense is trying to establish a serial killer; me and my brother have the same friends and none have ever heard of [Nicole] Simpson or Goldman—we don’t venture very far from Hollywood.” Cliff Cantor, New York Magazine, September 25th, 1994

In search of more information about the Cantor case I checked several O.J.-didn’t-do-it books out of the library—unbelievably, even the basic details provided about Brett’s murder were incorrect:

O.J. Is Innocent and I Can Prove It: The Shocking Truth about the Murders incorrectly identifies Brett as the manager of Dragonfly
• In If I Did It O.J. Simpson identifies Brett as a “Mezzaluna waiter”
• In Trial of the Century: Obstruction of Justice : Viewpoint of a Trial author Loretta Justice incorrectly claims Brett—who “ran” the dragonfly—died at the age of twenty-four
• In his book When the Husband is the Suspect disbarred attorney F. Lee Bailey claims Brett and Ron were “friends”—despite a marked absence of evidence they’d ever met

This photo is a staple of conspiracy sites; Brett is usually misidentified as the man with the ramrod posture and checked shirt (he’s actually center-left in the baseball cap)

[Note: after careful reflection I’ve opted not to link directly to any conspiracy sites—I’d prefer not to draw the lunatic fringe to my doorstep.]

Although there are innumerable variations Brett’s (fictitious) role in the O.J.-didn’t-do-it canon generally falls into three categories:

1) Both Brett and Ron Goldman were Jewish, thus making a Klassic Krazy Konspiracy inevitable. Actual cut-and-pasted title: “The Jews Framed O.J. Simpson and Staged a Race Trial To Cover it Up.” I won’t dignify this with any serious commentary but let’s just say I doubt the Zionist Illuminati were working hand-in-glove with Mark ‘Der Fuhrer’ Fuhrman.

Michael Nigg

2) The drug-related conspiracy theory: this variant alleges Joey Ippolito—a major Los Angeles cocaine dealer with Mafia ties—ordered the murders of Brett Cantor, Ron Goldman and Nicole Simpson because they either a) owed him money for drugs or b) were in the process of setting up a rival drug distribution network operating out of Mezzaluna restaurant. In this version of events the murder of Ron’s friend, one-time Mezzaluna waiter Michael Nigg—which occurred sixteen months after the Brentwood murders while he was employed at a different restaurant —is also related to Ippolito’s cocaine empire.

3) The most recent iteration—the ATV connection—now with more celebrities: in 1985 Michael Jackson purchased the ATV catalog—which includes licensing rights to the music of Elvis Presley and the Beatles—for $47.5 million; approximately two years after Brett’s death, in 1995, Jackson merged ATV with the Sony corporation. This latest conspiracy theory alleges Brett was murdered by O.J. attorney Robert Kardashian—father of the eponymously-named reality show clan—in a bidding war over ATV. Bonus lunacy alert: according to this theory Michael Jackson’s 1994 marriage to Lisa Marie Presley was a condition of the merger in order to quell rumors about his sexuality. (Why are you laughing?)

That ship had already sailed

“Brett’s name brought up as a pawn for the O.J. defense as a way to get O.J. off kind of interrupts the healing process. If anywhere there was a connection I would probably pay for half the investigation [myself].” Cliff Cantor, Philadelphia Inquirer, October 5th, 1994

Thanks to the dated archives of cyberspace you can actually track the distortion of truth;
conspiracy theories evolve exactly like the child’s game “Telephone,” the stories veering further and further from truth with each retelling.
The negligible ties in the initial reportage—Brett owned ten percent of a nightclub where Nicole Simpson liked to dance and Ron Goldman briefly worked—became ever more intimate.
Today it is gospel truth that Brett, sole owner of the Dragonfly, was best friends with Ron Goldman and the secret boyfriend of Nicole Simpson.
Pointing out the lack of proof for these claims is futile—insistence on fact-based evidence simply identifies you as part of the cover-up.

It’s not quite Roslynn Carter shaking hands with John Wayne Gacy, but it’s still pretty awkward in hindsight

Interestingly, one aspect of conspiracy theories I’d never before appreciated is their reliance on ignorance.
To someone who’s never worked at a nightclub it seems reasonable a ten-percent owner would know every short-term part-time employee—it isn’t.
To someone who’s never worked in the music industry it seems plausible a twenty-five year old A&R rep—whose sole function is to spot new talent and promote fledgling bands—would be involved with the ATV catalog.
In reality, anything involving publishing would be handled by an entirely different department,
mainly staffed by lawyers and MBAs.
(And for the record, there is no evidence Brett Cantor or Chrysalis ever had any involvement with or interest in acquiring the ATV catalog in the 1990s or at any time thereafter.)

“The story on Brett is that he was given a Colombian necktie, his tongue pulled out through his throat.” Los Angeles mixologist Tobin Shea, LA Magazine, December 28th, 2012. (This rumor is indisputably false, as so-called “Columbian neckties” are anatomically impossible.)

Ironically, although Brett had no personal ties to the Brentwood victims he does have an attenuated connection with O.J. Simpson.
Paul Cantor, Brett’s father, was also in the music business and in the 1960s he managed singer Dionne Warwick,
godmother of Simpson’s oldest daughter Arnell and onetime paramour of white Bronco copilot Al Cowlings.

As everyone knows, idiocy is rampant on the internet and fact-checking conspiracies is like shoveling shit against the (metaphorical) tide.
But being encoded and bounced off a satellite doesn’t render falsehoods in cyberspace meaningless; these bogus online rumors matter—irrespective of the renewed pain of the Cantor family—because someday the LAPD may find the actual person who stabbed Brett.
And when that happens the defendant’s lawyer is going to use the conspiracy angle to muddy the waters at trial—and as we saw with O.J., toss enough effluvia at even an airtight case and eventually something may stick.

[If you click through to the video Brett is interviewed at 3:58]

“At his funeral they played ‘Wish You Were Here’ by Pink Floyd and I can honestly say I wish Brett were still here. He deserved to have a full life; he deserved to keep shining.” Rose McGowan, Brave (2018)

Injecting O.J. Simpson into Brett’s murder isn’t only harmful to a theoretical future prosecution; it’s also harmful to objective truth.
Truth always matters; America is in crisis because we’ve lost sight of objective truth—a glut of lies and conspiratorial thinking has left us vulnerable to constant manipulation.
Truth matters and Brent’s murder matters—his death was a tragedy, not a footnote in an Infowars thread about a millionaire football player who used his fame and cash to subvert justice.

It’s not a conspiracy, and it isn’t even a coincidence: truth is dead, and so is Brett Cantor.


Local radio host turned podcaster brings new hope of finding Jodi
Oregon police work to solve 36-year-old murder case
10 years later, SC couple’s disappearance remains a great mystery
Search for missing Nampa woman set to take place at school administration building
Sisters’ murders unsolved years after killer’s DNA freed woman
The Hunt | Atlanta’s hidden serial killers
The Dumping Grounds: A trail of bodies hidden in plain sight
Southern ghosts: A serial killer’s stranglehold on the past


Police release crime scene photos in effort to solve 37-year-old cold case
COLD CASE: After 30 years investigators need new leads in Owasso’s only unsolved murder
Mysterious deaths rock N. Main Street in Dayton
Major break in mysterious Gadsden cold case
FBI agents investigating deaths of Lumberton women return to city
On 22nd Anniversary Of Unsolved Murder, Baltimore Co. Police Seek Tips
Local detectives look to new DNA technology to solve decades-old murders


Unsolved Vidor murder case put in spotlight with Oscar nominated movie
Lakewood murder: Small steps forward in 48-year-old investigation
New information to be released in murdered priest cold case
Family continues long wait for closure in Danielle Stislicki missing woman’s case
Myra Lewis still missing after 4 years
The Oldest Cold Case In Terre Haute Pt. 1
The Oldest Cold Case In Terre Haute Pt. 2
Cold case: Killers robbed, strangled retired couple


East Area Rapist Linked To Rash Of Rancho Cordova Cat Burglaries
20 years after daughter’s disappearance, Suzanne Lyall’s mother still searches for answers
The ‘Stocking Strangler’ killer terrorized Columbus. Now he has an execution date — again
‘She was a good person’: Layla Blizzard missing for almost a decade
Murder of 88-year-old Lennon woman remains unsolved 21 years later
Tracking Cleveland’s killers: Does Cleveland have a serial killer problem?
Podcast takes new look at unsolved murders of three teenage girls from nearly 40 years ago
COLD CASE: Remains found 22 years ago still unidentified


Weber detectives probing 2 related killings from 3 1/2 decades ago
Gone without a trace: What happened to DeOrr Kunz
Bethany Markowski’s mother searching for daughter, helping other missing children’s families
Five Years Later: Maegan Hembree’s Family Searches for Answers
Cold case: Police probe 1964 Frankfort homicide
Hunting a Cold Case Killer: MCSO Considers ‘Possibility’ Suspect Linked to Other Murders
Patton Oswalt Looks Back at His Late Wife’s Serial-Killer Obsession


Searching for Breezy and Riley: Nearly two months after the young couple disappeared in Utah’s West Desert, family and friends just want answers
New Developments In Missing Woman’s Case That Garnered National Attention
In Japan: She Had a Date With an American. They Found Her Head in a Suitcase.
Authorities renew efforts to solve boy’s 2000 disappearance
Happy Valley’s sad mystery: Sons reflect on father’s mysterious disappearance
Hairdresser’s Valentine’s Day slaying in Edmonton remains unsolved


Clairton girl’s disappearance still haunts family 36 years later
Massive search being conducted in Traci Pittman Kegley case
COLD CASE: ‘Someone knows’: Richmond Hill’s Cheryl Rowe disappearance under microscope
Son of Frankie ‘Darlene’ Horsley continues searching for mother 35 years after her disappearance
Revealed after 75 years: The face of Bella in the Wych Elm
‘She’s loved and missed:’ Marilyn Rose Munroe remembered amid calls for justice
Vanishing Act: Barbara Newhall Follett was a prodigy who transfixed the literary world—and then vanished


A look back at the murder of Brittany Phillips, a 13-year journey her mother hopes ends with answers
Five months later, the search for Alexis Scott continues
COLD CASE: Parents on quest to find daughter’s killer
UNSOLVED: A family looking for answers after 4 decades, a killer still possibly on the loose
‘I feel that tip is out there:’ Drawing created from DNA breathes hope into unsolved Federal Way killing
1974 case of teen burned alive had a suspect, but never an arrest
Psychic’s 1948 slaying unsolved


Who killed Mark and Maria? Small town murder remains a mystery one year later
Adams County Cold Case: The Fenwick Community Home Invasion
Chilling cold case: Mom faces park where son disappeared for first time
Investigators search for answers in 1991 murder mystery
Gov. Cooper offers $10k reward for info in killing of Greensboro mom, son
Mystery as CDC employee, 35, is reported missing 11 days after he left work sick and vanished without his beloved dog


Missing Pieces: FBI shares new enhanced security video in baby girl’s death
SPECIAL REPORT: Dubuque Cold Case- A Sister’s Story
Inside the Evidence: Rochester grandmother murdered
WCAX Investigates: Getting Away with Murder
Man offers $25,000 reward for conviction of sister’s murderer 47 years later
Death Row Inmate Who Murdered his Mom and Brother Spared Just Minutes Before Execution
Four years after arrests for Heather Elvis’ disappearance, cases remain open
Dead Wake: Nathan Carman’s mother vanished without a trace but his past was about to resurface


The 44-year-old unsolved mystery of Patrick Power’s disappearance
Reward increased to $1.5 million in unsolved 2001 slaying of Seattle prosecutor
Nampa School District, police to search for body in cold case first profiled on 6 On Your Side
New calls for public help in cold-case murder with Triangle ties
KXAN Unsolved: Oak Hill murder, 30 years later
Is Forrest Fenn Treasure Real? Illinois Man’s Death Linked To $2M Bounty


Unsolved 2015 Rape of Pigtailed NYC Schoolgirl Still Haunts Detective
‘Who Killed Nanette Krentel?’ Crime series to feature unsolved death of Tammany fire chief’s wife
Cold case count likely to rise
COLD CASE: Pregnant woman found murdered in cemetery, investigators seek tips
VANISHED: Recent TN law could breathe new life into old missing persons cases
The Unsolved Murder of Kétie Memory Jones
A Mysterious Death at the South Pole


Cold Case: A look inside the Alberta RCMP’s Historical Homicide Unit
Investigation Continues Into Disappearance Of Local Couple Who Went Missing 13 Years Ago
29 YEARS LATER: Prince George’s County police search for clues in death of 27-year-old back in 1989
25-year mystery in Collingdale: Who killed Fred Winner?
He vanished on a trip to Bluffton. 19 years later, deputies are still looking for clues


Family clings to hope, police search for answers two years after Boone college student’s disappearance
The Endless Search for Angie Yarnell
Family of Marilyn Bergeron, missing for 10 years, fighting for change
COLD CASE: Killer’s voice captured on voicemail
Officials hope for answers in 1990 case involving Leesville teen
“Boys on the Tracks” witness IDs others
Bible John murders 50 years on: Are we any closer to finding Scotland’s serial killer?
East Area Rapist podcast: EXPOSED


Investigators closing in on suspect in Moore County cold case, they say
New piece of evidence in Olean cold case disappearance
Murder in Jamaica reheats cold case in South Florida
Shakira Johnson and Alianna DeFreeze: So much alike in life, too much alike in death, nowhere alike in closure
23 years after her unsolved murder, Hamilton remembers Helen Gillings
Ten years after fatal shootings, couple hope for justice
1989: Who killed Cissy?


Could A Serial Killer And Former Green Bay Packer Be Responsible For This Cold Case?
The pain never goes away: Revisiting Texas cold cases
Joanne Ratcliffe mystery: New podcast cries for justice for two little girls
Carol Johnson’s unsolved murder case gets a fresh set of eyes
The charmed life and mysterious murder of Joe Melo
KXAN Investigation: The Lady in the Lake


For the first time, details released in unsolved 1979 murder of 12-year-old girl
Bundy’s Last Stop: Recounting a serial killer’s arrest 40 years later
WIS Investigates: Justice for Michelle
Search still on for Scottsdale woman’s murderer three years later
Murder of 17-year-old girl in Richmond remains unsolved for 30 years
Toronto fire fighter who went missing in NY found in California

True crime earworm: did anyone else recognize the lyrics of school shooter du jour Nikolas Cruz’s favorite white power anthem? It’s a Max Resist song from Gladiator Days: Anatomy of a Prison Murder (“They call me Nazi / and I’m proud of it . . . .”)


Unsolved Valentine’s Day double murder still haunts local investigators
DNA Technology Produces Potential Portrait of Killer in Carlsbad Woman’s 2007 Valentine’s Day Murder
Unsolved Wichita Homicides: New clues could crack cold cases
Picturing a murderer: New tech could help solve cold case
The unsolved murder of a St. Louis cheerleader, 18 years later
Police Seek Help In ‘Bizarre’ Cold Case Murder In Colorado
Decades long mystery: Still missing from Watkins Glen ’73 concert


Las Vegas homeless community on edge with a killer on the loose
Olean police receive anonymous letter about 1984 disappearance
Detectives reveal new leads in decades-old cold case involving four Goleta homicides
Man Claims to Have Seen “Boys on the Tracks” Murders
Cold case detectives hope to link local unsolved crimes to serial killer Ted Bundy
44 years later, who kidnapped and killed Carla Walker?


Grim anniversary highlights NC girl’s disappearance on Valentine’s Day
Three years later, still no leads in case of 19-year-old missing college student Jasmine Moody
Training school survivor haunted for decades by boy’s disappearance
Phylicia Thomas’ vigil tonight as family has new leads for missing woman
Mammoth families seek answers in double murder case
Who Killed Marilu? Sheriff Revisits 1986 Valentines Day Killing
Who killed Adrienne McColl? 16 years later, RCMP say they’re getting closer to the truth
DNA evidence leads to new hope in 1981 murder investigation


Lonestar Mysteries: five longreads about unsolved Texas crimes

Who Killed Beverly Jean Hope?
An unsolved murder from the 1980s stirs Houston cold case investigators
Unsolved: Young, black and vanished
Unsolved Crimes: five famous cases the police may never marked ”closed”
Houston Babylon: Dean Goss, Houston’s Jackie Gleason, Houston’s Bluebeard or Both?
10 Notorious Unsolved Texas Murders


UNSOLVED: 39 years after a local teen’s violent death police continue investigating
Operation One: Who killed Bobby Broadway Jr. and Natasha Avery?
Cold Case: Beloved storekeeper killed a decade ago
Search continues for Rose Peterson
Woman’s strangulation still a mystery one-year-later
‘We have a hole in our family:’ A year on from the ‘Snapchat’ murders
Unsolved: The mysteries lurking in Lake Travis
Who killed twelve-year-old Lonnie Jones?


Appalachian Unsolved: The diplomat accused of murdering his family: Part 1 & Part 2
GONE COLD | A family massacred, a case left cold
Justice for Love: A mother’s relentless pursuit to find her daughter’s killer
Parents of URI grad who vanished 9 years ago still search for answers
Bones Found In Montana Shed Not That Of Missing Skelton Brothers
Still no answers after air searches for missing Rochester-area couple


‘Serial killer’ convicted of 2008 Bywater murder now accused of killing 3 more New Orleans women
University of Indianapolis investigating human remains thought to be linked to Woodstock woman’s disappearance
Guns, safe, jade figurines stolen from torched home where teen was found slain
Family of missing Manic Street Preachers guitarist Richey Edwards reveal ‘vital’ new clue in his disappearance
No Answers and No Maura Murray: 14-Years-Later the Mystery Remains
Troubling Clues in Case of Unsolved 1982 Chicago Kidnapping
Still Missing: Unlike The Bachelor’s Bekah M these people aren’t famous, their stories haven’t gone viral and they haven’t been found


Nearly 34 years after Algiers toddler’s disappearance, NOPD opens missing persons case
Missing Pieces: Daughter who witnessed mother’s murder seeks answers
Who killed baby Reynolds and her mother?
Searching for Justice: The killing of A.C. Hall
She took out the trash 34 years ago and never returned. Can DNA help find Julie’s killer?
Erica Baker’s disappearance is still a mystery 19 years later
28th anniversary of bowling alley mass shooting approaches; $25,000 reward for information


Evidence of possible homicide, cover-up sought in case of missing teens
Sister of Annadale mom missing 4 years wants closure, hopes for reunion
COLD CASE: Helen’s light still shines, so let me tell you her story
Ski Wing murders now 40 years old
Justin Lee Richardson disappeared from the Grand Canyon area in 2001 and has never been found
Cold Cases: A look at the unsolved mysteries of South Ga., North Fla.


Two bodies found in 1978 finally identified as Michigan couple
Cold case: Robert Rocha slaying in 1994 still haunts Las Cruces family
Port Orange mother of Laurel Rogers remains determined in search for daughter
One year after mom and daughter vanished, police “still searching for clues”
Two letters that take us deeper inside the mind of Jack the Ripper than ever before
The original Boys on the Tracks: Boston boys’ 1948 deaths remain a mystery


COLD CASE: Prison slaying shrouded in secrecy goes unsolved nearly 20 years
Sheriff’s Department Reveals New Leads in East Area Rapist Case
Missing Pieces: Police hope newly released call recordings help crack cold case
‘Body-less’ murders are difficult, but not hopeless, for Fox Valley authorities
Sixty years after her death, the legend of Twin Falls serial killer Lyda Southard lives on
Shingletown boy’s death still a mystery 27 years later


New technology could help ID victim in 27-year-old Orange County cold case murder
COLD CASE: 1999 Hollinger’s Island Murder Mystery
Families still searching for answers in 1998 murders
Shattered: Black Friday, a 10-episode podcast investigating the disappearance of the Skelton Brothers
Family asking for new forensics tool to be used on cold case of Allison Foy
Note Continues To Haunt Investigators 41 Years After Brutal Murder
Twenty-one years later, young woman’s murder continues to haunt the people who loved her


Gay Village stalked by a serial killer . . . a second time?
Lindsay Buziak mystery: 10 years later, her father still seeks the realtor’s killers
Exclusive: Cold case murder of young Hudson Valley student gets new look
Unsolved 40 Years Later: East Area Rapist
West Mesa killings left pain, questions that won’t go away
He was beaten to death in north Fort Worth in 1984. His family still seeks justice

11:15am, December 25th, 1975. Mr. and Mrs. Clarence Decker strode up the walkway and swung open the door of their widowed daughter’s split-level ranch house in East Vincent Township, Pennsylvania.
The tree was trimmed, the halls were decked and “Silent Night” played softly on the radio.

Moments later Mr. Decker bolted outside, sprinting for a neighbor’s house. “They’re all dead in here,” he screamed. “They’re all dead!”

Upon arriving at the scene Pennsylvania State Police investigators discovered Judith Saneck, age 34, sprawled on the living room floor next to a pile of unopened Christmas gifts;
her boyfriend of one month, Nicholas Foresta, age 48, lay face-up at her side,
a .38 caliber revolver clutched in his right hand.
The bodies of Mrs. Saneck’s three children—Michael, age 12, Joleen, 9, and Joselyn, 7—were found in their respective beds. Every occupant of the house had been shot once in the head.

The Sanecks

“The house was neat as a pin. It appeared to be a typical Christmas eve—the kids were in bed waiting for Santa Claus.” Pennsylvania State Police Detective Henry Wells, Philadelphia Inquirer, December 27th, 1975

Investigators deemed the crime a murder-suicide immediately.
The ambulance crew removed the bodies without delay; no photos were taken and no efforts expended to preserve the sanctity of the crime scene.
Even in the immediate aftermath of the bodies’ discovery, however, a murder-suicide ruling was problematic at best;
only one vehicle—a “luxury car” belonging to Nicholas Foresta—was parked outside the Saneck residence on Hoffecker Road. Judith Saneck’s white Plymouth Satellite was missing.

“That’s the way it looks (murder-suicide); now we have to prove it.” Pennsylvania State Trooper Edward Gallen (street name: Officer Confirmation Bias), Camden News, December 26th, 1975

Problems with the murder-suicide theory failed to abate: the Saneck-Foresta autopsies, performed by Dr. Halbert Fillinger of the Philadelphia Medical Examiner’s Office,
did little to bolster law enforcement’s chosen narrative.
Dr. Fillinger determined Nicholas and the Sanecks had all died at roughly the same time,
between midnight and 2am on December 25th;
none of the bodies bore any defensive injuries and all five victims had a single cranial bullet wound.
The Saneck’s injuries were clearly homicidal in nature, but Nicholas Foresta’s cause of death was less clear-cut.
He’d been shot once in the right posterior occipital region of his skull—the back of his head, in layman’s terms—with the bullet exiting over his left eye.
An unlikely, but still theoretically possible, suicide injury—although the force of the bullet should’ve pushed him face-forward and lividity indicated he’d been positioned on his back.
Much to the dismay of Chester County authorities, Dr. Fillinger listed Nicholas Foresta’s cause of death as “undetermined.”

“Hal’s a capable guy but Dr. Fillinger’s involvement was to perform the autopsy; he’s a medical doctor not a policeman.” Chester County District Attorney William Lamb, apparently unaware forensic pathologists are trained to utilize medical evidence in criminal investigations. Philadelphia Inquirer, February 4th, 1977

The mystery of Judith’s missing Plymouth Satellite was solved within twenty-four hours; the car was found in a mall parking lot in the nearby town of Devon, approximately seven miles from the Saneck residence.
The car was determined to be in perfect working condition but one inexplicable item—a large tree branch denuded of bark—was discovered inside.
As is the case with many of the anomalies still to come, the precise role the tree limb played in the Saneck-Foresta murders remains unresolved.

Judith Saneck had only recently reentered the dating scene—eight years earlier her husband Joe succumbed to leukemia, leaving her with two small children and pregnant with a third.
Judith had last been definitively seen on the afternoon of December 23rd when she’d stopped by a neighbor’s home to borrow cinnamon for a holiday cookie recipe—during the conversation she mentioned buying electric hairdryers for her children as Christmas gifts.
Judith’s demeanor, according to her neighbor, appeared normal.

The Ziegler family

[Odd coincidence: the Saneck murders weren’t the only Christmas family slaying that year; the Ziegler family murders—still chugging along in the Florida court system four decades later—occurred on December 24th, 1975.]

Like Judith Saneck, Nicholas Foresta had three children with a deceased spouse;
he had remarried shortly after the death of his first wife, however, and was recently separated from his second.
He resided with his two youngest sons in the nearby borough of Phoenixville,
where he was a longtime employee of the town’s eponymously named steel mill.
Nicholas’s background lacked any red flags signaling an imminent murder-suicide; he had no history of domestic violence and he and Judith were dating only casually.

“Nobody believes he was responsible for this; he had no health problems, no money problems. He loved children. He never owned a gun and I don’t think he knew how to shoot one.” Nicholas’s brother David Foresta, Philadelphia Inquirer, December 27th, 1975

A canvas of Devon mall employees unearthed an Open Hearth waitress who recalled serving a couple resembling the Saneck-Forestas on the evening of December 23rd.
Nicholas and Judith had probably argued over dinner, investigators speculated, and subsequently opted to abandon her car in the parking lot and drive home together.
The next day, investigators believed, still angry after twenty-four hours of holiday togetherness, Nicholas retrieved a .38 caliber revolver—purchased by Judith for home protection six months earlier—and proceeded to shoot each and every Saneck, then himself.
A classic case of murder suicide, Chester County authorities insisted; case closed.

“We made a complete neighborhood check and we are still treating it as a murder-suicide.” Chester County District Attorney William Lamb, The Mercury, December 27th, 1975

Not so fast. Over the next few months a steady drumbeat of odd facts and crime scene details leaked to the press;
initially Chester County authorities rebutted the majority of these revelations but faced with additional corroboration would ultimately attest to their veracity.
The following information would eventually be confirmed:

• The gun, empty when found, had a five bullet capacity but seven shots had been fired—five into victims, one into a living room wall and one into the house’s exterior

• Six of these bullets were linked to the crime scene weapon but the caliber and origin of the exterior wall ammunition has never been publicized

• Nicholas Foresta’s fingerprints weren’t found on the murder weapon; the only prints on the gun belonged to a responding officer

• Authorities performed a gunshot residue test on Nicholas’s hands but refused to release the results

• Money—mostly tens and ones—was found scattered in the Saneck yard

• A screen had been removed from a second floor window

• Several spent bullet cartridges were found in a downstairs wastepaper basket

Members of Nicholas Foresta’s family, adamant he lacked both the motivation and wherewithal to commit homicide, were certain these peculiar incidentals indicated he and the Sanecks had been slain by an intruder.
Interestingly, a Hoffecker road neighbor told a Mercury  reporter Judith had complained of a prowler,
and also revealed the Saneck home had once been burgled.
Unhappy with the official inquiry, the Forestas hired a private investigator—ex-police officer Joseph Shepsko—to look into the case.
Although he will later proclaim the timing coincidental,
Chester County District Attorney Lamb responded by petitioning (successfully) for the revocation of Shepsko’s private investigator’s license.

“One shot did exit the house but there was nothing unusual about that.” District Attorney William Lamb goosing the laws of physics, The Sentinel, January 12th 1976

Eventually the media outcry reached a crescendo;
hoping to assuage community concerns about a possible killer in their midst the Chester County District Attorney’s Office staged a press conference.
Debuting a new—although hardly improved—theory of the crime,
District Attorney Lamb amended the Saneck-Forestas times of death by twenty-four hours, pathologist’s findings notwithstanding.
This revision served to work out a kink in the accepted chronology of the Saneck-Forestas’ last days:
Nicholas and Judith had (presumably) visited the Devon Open Hearth restaurant on the night of the 23rd,
yet Dr. Fillinger had fixed their times of death in the wee hours of December 25th.
This left an entire day during which the Sanecks were not seen and Judith inexplicably failed to retrieve her car from the mall (if she had in fact abandoned it there).

DA Lamb block quote

The revised time of death, however, was inconsequential compared to the press conference’s bombshell reveal:
Judith Saneck, District Attorney Lamb now alleged, had engineered the murder of her children as part of a suicide pact.
The supporting evidence proffered for this potentially slanderous claim?
The word of God, specifically a passage Judith had underlined in her Bible: “For I am now ready to be offered and the time of my departure is at hand.” (2 Timothy verse 4)
At some point the grieving widow had also written an (undated) letter to her husband Joe stating she longed to be with him. Hardly a solid foundation for a conspiracy to commit homicide charge, to say the least.

[Quandary: if you form a death pact with your current boyfriend so you can be with your deceased husband what happens to your boyfriend in the afterlife post-suicide? Is he an eternal third wheel?]

Not unexpectedly, the Chester County District Attorney’s press conference failed to quell community furor.
The Evening Phoenix, Nicholas Foresta’s hometown newspaper,
published a scathing six-part exposé on the botched investigation, taking particular umbrage at the unilaterally-revised time of death.
Seven separate witnesses, as the Evening Phoenix reported, had encountered Nicholas Foresta shopping in the company of an unidentified woman on December 24th,
a point at which authorities now deemed him to be deceased.
The newspaper’s staff, incidentally, was able to vouch for the reliability of one of these witnesses: Wayne D. Jones, Nicholas’s close friend, the Evening Phoenix’s advertising manager.

“All evidence was reviewed in the case and without a shadow of a doubt it points to murder-suicide.” District Attorney William Lamb, The Sentinel, January 12th, 1976

Some things are inevitable: snow melts in springtime, time passes and eventually questions about the family massacre on Hoffecker Road were packed away like tree ornaments and tinsel in the waning days of Yule.
Michael, Joleen and Joselyn, three children dead in their beds on Christmas eve, presents unopened, faded into memory.
I don’t know who wielded the gun in the house that night,
and without access to the forensic tests—-the Holy Grails of homicide-—the triggerman’s true identity will likely forever remain a mystery.

In some ways the Saneck-Foresta case may lack a conclusion but it does offer a moral, unpalatable though it may be:
every Christmas story needs a Grinch or Scrooge (or stonewalling district attorney) but not every holiday narrative is entitled to a happy ending.

Sometimes Santa’s sack is full of bullets, and it doesn’t matter if you were good all year.

 (Wise men take note: pulling the trigger at that angle and ending up with a left-brow exit wound would truly be a Christmas miracle.)

“You are going to know I’m not guilty when you get the next one.” Condemned inmate James Albert Findley’s protestation of innocence en route to death row. Cincinnati Enquirer, November 4th, 1971

James Findley, age twenty-nine, had been sentenced to death for the mutilation murder of high school junior Cheryl Segal, age sixteen.
On October 17th, 1970 Cheryl and her best friend Karen Bulvanker were socializing at Cincinnati’s Firefly Café when they accepted a ride home from Findley, a friend of a friend.
Karen, who was dropped off first, asked Cheryl to phone her when she arrived home—when the call failed to materialize she contacted Cheryl’s mother, who contacted the police.

Eighteen hours later horseback riders discovered Cheryl’s body twenty-three miles from the Firefly Café,
buried under a blanket of leaves on the banks of Gregory Creek.
Shot once in the left temple, her left nipple had been excised and a large Z etched into the flesh of her torso.
Although Cheryl was found nude her postmortem revealed no evidence of rape;
her clothing was later discovered scattered on nearby roadways as if tossed from the window of a moving car.

Cheryl Segal

Findley was arrested the next day,
the evidence against him overwhelming:
a dried smear of Cheryl’s type blood was on his jacket,
the tires of his Plymouth convertible matched tracks near her dumpsite,
and a .25 caliber revolver tucked into the car’s visor had fired the bullet retrieved from her brain.
Findley had recently purchased the gun
from the owner of the Firefly Café—Karen Bulvanker had spotted it in his car the night of the murder.

Findley, a member of the Iron Horseman motorcycle club,
was no stranger to the justice system;
as a juvenile he’d spent four years incarcerated in Ohio’s Boys’ Industrial School and he’d served five years in an adult penitentiary for burglary.
All told, he’d been arrested five times, mostly for property
and drug crimes—the most serious charges he had ever faced, assault with a deadly weapon, had been dropped before trial.

Findley was the last person seen with Cheryl Segal; she’d been slain with his gun and his vehicle had been present at the crime scene.
Findley’s failure to dispose of the murder weapon or take measures to avoid detection may have been shortsightedness—the idiocy of criminals never fails to astound—or it might have had,
as he would later claim, a less damning explanation.
When arrested the morning after her body was found Findley told investigators he had no idea Cheryl was dead.

After dropping off Karen Bulvanker, Findley told detectives, he and Cheryl had made a quick stop at the home of his brother-in-law Dennis Smith, a fellow Iron Horseman.
Smith had asked to borrow his car, Findley claimed, and after Smith promised to drop Cheryl at home Findley agreed.
According to Findley, his gun had been in the car’s sun visor when he’d turned the vehicle over to Smith;
the blood smear on his jacket, Findley’s lawyer would later theorize,
must’ve been secondary transfer via traces of blood Smith left on the front seat.

[Caveat: one recent web source claims Findley retained possession of Cheryl’s excised flesh as a trophy; this allegation is contradicted by contemporaneous media coverage.]

At his capital murder trial Findley took the stand in his own defense and implicated his brother-in-law;
subpoenaed to appear as a witness, Dennis Smith denied he’d seen Findley or Cheryl on the night in question and proffered an alibi supported by two fellow Iron Horsemen.
Unmoved by Findley’s testimony the jury returned with a conviction after three hours and subsequently sentenced him to death.
Decrying his innocence, en route to death row Findley warned prison guards Cheryl’s killer would strike again: “You are going to know I’m not guilty when you get the next one.”

[SEGUEThis is the Zodiac Seeking: although he was an Ohio native Findley had lived in the Bay Area during the Zodiac killer’s reign and an FBI investigation into his status as a possible suspect unearthed some intriguing circumstances—not only had Cheryl Segal’s torso been carved with a letter Z but she’d been slain almost one year to the day after final confirmed Zodiac victim Paul Stine. And the parallels didn’t end there: ten months after Paul Stine’s death two murders occurred which at the time were considered possible Zodiac slayings: Brenda Vance and Janice Smith were found bludgeoned to death in San Francisco in August, 1970—like Cheryl Segal, Janice Smith’s left nipple had been excised.

Despite a thorough investigation, however, no hard evidence emerged tying Findley to the Zodiac slayings—and confirmed Zodiac correspondence continued until 1974, three years after Findley’s confinement on death row. Eventually the two bludgeonings in San Francisco were determined to have no connection to the Zodiac murders: Stanley Nelson was convicted of murdering Brenda Vance and Janice Smith in 1973, along with a third victim, Jacqueline Truss.]

October 19th, 1971; Cheryll Spegal’s tenth birthday would be her last day.
Exactly one year and one day after Cheryl Segal’s murder the Highland Heights fifth-grader left home at 6:25am to walk to the bus stop;
though located over the state border in Kentucky Cheryll’s residence at 78 Rose Avenue was only eight miles from the Firefly Café where the similarly-named Cheryl Segal embarked on her final journey home.

A thick fog blanketed the area and the sun had not yet risen when Cheryll began her journey,
hampering visibility; although her older brothers Mickey,
then age thirteen, and Mark, then eleven,
had departed just five minutes earlier they neither heard nor witnessed anything amiss.
The bus stop was less than two blocks
from the Spegal residence but Cheryll never boarded the bus,
never made it to school, never returned home on that day or any other.
For nearly two weeks her whereabouts remained a mystery—but on November 1st
a truck driver named Gayle Gaines espied Cheryll’s submerged remains in a creek in rural Pendleton County,
twenty-three miles from Highland Heights.

Nude and dumped in approximately one foot of water,
Cheryll’s body was positioned face-down in the muck of the creek bed,
seven large stones stacked neatly upon her back.
She had been stabbed and mutilated—the wounds on her back aligned in a precise circular pattern—and she had been sexually assaulted with instruments.
The plaid jumper, gold blouse and brown oxfords she wore when last seen have never been located; forty-six years later Cheryll Spegal’s murder remains unsolved.

The names Cheryl Segal and Cheryll Spegal differ by only two letters;
despite residing on opposite sides of the state line both lived in the same general area
and their mutilation murders were separated by exactly one year and one day.
At the time, journalists from the Cincinnati Enquirer  speculated Cheryll Spegal had been the “next one” James Findley had prophesied as he was transported to death row;
is it possible that despite the jury’s verdict Findley was innocent of the crime for which he’d been condemned?

Map of the Cheryll Spegal recovery site


Both victims were young females
Attempts had been made to cover both bodies
Both victims were discarded in or near a creek
Both victims were mutilated and dumped nude
Both Cheryl and Cheryll had been disposed of approximately twenty-three miles from the locus they encountered their killer

Spegal creek dumpsite

A closer look, however, reveals more inconsistencies than uniformity:


Cheryl was a teenager/Cheryll was a child
Cheryl had been shot/Cheryll was stabbed
Cheryl had not been sexually assaulted/Cheryll had been raped with implements
Cheryl had been discarded on a creek bank/Cheryll was submerged in water
Cheryl’s body had been buried in leaves/Cheryll’s body had been camouflaged with stones
Cheryl’s clothes were scattered around town/Cheryll’s clothing was never located
The mutilation of their bodies was markedly different (a letter Z vs. a circular pattern)

Certainly, serial killers don’t always commit identical slayings—the fact that the Segal/Spegal murders aren’t cookie-cutter crimes isn’t conclusive evidence of a lack of connection.
Today we have the luxury of scientific certainty via DNA evidence
but in the forensic-free 1970s juries were largely reliant on their intuition and common sense:
Findley’s alibi implicating his brother-in-law, while theoretically possible, was undeniably farfetched.
It’s unclear if the Cincinnati Enquirer’s speculation about a Segal/Spegal connection
engendered any law enforcement interest;
authorities have never revealed whether Dennis Smith was investigated as a possible suspect in Cheryll Spegal’s slaying, and the current status of the physical evidence in both the Segal and Spegal murders is unknown.

Ironically, despite the passage of four decades determining a link between the Segal and Spegal murders is now more critical than ever before.
Spoiler alert: James Findley evaded execution courtesy of Fuhrman v. Georgia  and after forty-six years in prison he’s currently eligible for supervised release.
The board rebuffed his first attempt at parole—possibly because he continues to deny his guilt—but Findley’s next hearing, scheduled for 2018, inches ever closer.

I have no special insight into James Findley’s guilt in Cheryl Segal’s slaying; the jury who heard his trial testimony believed he was lying and I respect their assessment—but with the glut of DNA exonerations the fallibility of juries, particularly those bereft of forensic evidence, is no longer in dispute.
So instead of insight I will leave you with a prediction:
if Findley did in fact murder Cheryl Segal yet still manages to obtain parole
I foresee additional mutilation murders in his future.
To paraphrase his assertion as he was led off to death row: we’ll know he was guilty when he gets the next one.

The murder of Lora Morris has everything: a note secreted in a coffin, a mysterious map, a Soldier of Fortune  hitman and four vanished individuals now presumed dead.
The only thing missing is a solution—and a narrative that makes sense.

Coherence is for lightweights; let’s live dangerously and start at the end.

On August 5th, 1994 the body of twenty-two year old murder victim Lora Lynn Morris was disinterred from her eternal resting place in a Chillicothe cemetery.
From her coffin a taskforce comprised of Ohio and Indiana officials plucked a small black jewelry box,
its jaunty pink ribbon discolored from thirteen years in the grave.
Inside the box was a handwritten note and several waterlogged photographs.

“We can say at this time that the letter was written by Lora Morris’s mother Trudy Snedegar. It is in her handwriting and discusses more than one subject. The box also contained three photographs.” Hancock County Detective Donnie Munden, Greenfield Daily Reporter, October 18th, 1994

Law enforcement officer Donnie Munden and murder victim Lora Snedegar Morris; you’ll see their names again, but this isn’t really their story.
The main characters of this story—notice I fail to use the word “protagonists”—-are the pair’s respective fathers, John W. Munden and Stephen Cabe Snedegar.

Captain John W. Munden (retired)—Sergeant Munden in 1981, the year the Snedegar and Munden stories intertwine—was an employee of the Hancock County Sheriff’s Department in Greenfield, Indiana.

Steve Snedegar’s background is harder to pin down.
His past is murky—there are rumors of drug running and work as an FBI informant but in 1981 he is a wealthy businessman in the waste-oil industry.
Steve and his wife Trudy are preparing to relocate to Florida and looking to unload the family business,
J&S Oil Service Company.
A tentative deal is struck with two prospective buyers named Tony—Tony Lambert and Tony McCullough—but at the last moment the financing falls through and hard feelings abound.

Captain John Munden, right, at the Snedegar gravesite

Despite the failure of the sale Steve and Trudy depart for Florida midsummer leaving their daughter Lora at their Greenfield home.
Lora is recently divorced from high school classmate Bryce Morris—the couple has a daughter Brandy, age three, who is spending the summer with her father.
On August 10th Trudy Snedegar arrived in Indiana unannounced; Lora and another daughter—the Snedegars have a total of four children—fetch their mother from the airport and take her out for dinner.
At 11pm Trudy and Lora return home and shortly thereafter Trudy retires to the master bedroom of the family residence at 73 Shadeland Drive.
Trudy will later tell detectives the last time she sees her daughter Lora is wearing a long white tee-shirt and lounging on the sofa watching television.
Lora Lynn Morris will never be seen alive again.

Trudy will later tell detectives she awakened at approximately 6am the following morning; Lora’s car is outside, her purse and belongings are present in the home and the patio door is ajar.
Alarmed, Trudy contacts the Hancock County Sheriff’s Department and Sergeant John W. Munden is dispatched to the scene. The stage is now set.

Sergeant Munden will later claim he was certain Lora was off on a lark until he learned she left her purse behind:
”I made the remark to Trudy, ‘I believe a woman’s pocketbook is like a minister’s Bible—they don’t go anyplace without it,’” Munden later tells an Orlando Sentinel  reporter.
A check of the family phone records reveals Lora spoke with her ex-husband Bryce Morris twice after Trudy had allegedly gone to bed—once just after 11pm and once shortly before midnight.
Bryce’s account of the content of these conversations has never been publicized.

A Short Compendium of Leads that Went Nowhere:

• On August 12th, two days after Lora’s disappearance Trudy Snedegar received a phone call from an unknown man (possibly a Keenen Ivory Wayans fan) who vowed, “I’m going to get you, sucker.”

• The next day, August 13th Trudy received a phone call from a woman sobbing and making “sexual innuendos;” the call was taped—Trudy, Steve, and Bryce Morris all agree the sobbing woman is Lora

• Psychics? Oh, there were several, although you don’t need to think about them again because their information failed to impact the investigation

• Requisite wild card: a former classmate of Lora and Bryce Morris was a rapist on the run from the FBI; Ricky Dean Akers would ultimately be eliminated from suspicion in Lora’s murder but his Kiss Army photo merits inclusion

I want to rock and roll all night/and die in an FBI gun-fight on my last day

Three Investigative Anomalies that Don’t Mean Anything Unless They Do:

In a criminal investigation the line between unconventional and untoward can be difficult to discern, especially with evolving law-enforcement ethical standards and the passage of three decades.
The Greenfield Daily Reporter  and Orlando Sentinel  provide the information; you decide.

• The Snedegar family paid for their own lie detector tests instead of using a police polygrapher

• Steve Snedegar gave the Hancock County Sheriff’s Department 10K cash to protect his family; according to Sergeant Munden’s Orlando Sentinel  interview, “We used a lot of that money to watch Steve.” (A lot? But not all?)

• A long-haul truck driver was certain he’d given a ride to a hitchhiking Lora Morris, a sighting discounted by her family. Sergeant Munden traveled to Lake Charles, Louisiana on the Snedegar family’s dime to convince the trucker to withdraw the sighting (and threatened to charge the trucker with bigamy on an unrelated matter)

Back to the Action Whether You Like it or Not (AKA Hey, Where’d Everybody Go?)

As the search for his daughter’s body dragged on Steve Snedegar,
then forty-one,
became convinced Lora’s disappearance was related to the failed sale of the family oil-recycling business;
prospective buyers Tony McCullough and Tony Lambert became the focus of his suspicion and wrath.

As delineated in this epic Orlando Sentinel  interview,
Hancock County lawman John Munden claimed Steve—a private pilot—devised a plan to lure Tony Lambert to New Orleans to persuade him to reveal the truth about Lora’s fate.
Approximately one month after Lora’s disappearance Tony Lambert traveled to Louisiana to discuss a possible joint Snedegar waste-oil venture and has never been seen alive again.
Steve claims Lambert left their meeting unscathed;
law enforcement will later hear rumors the two men took a sightseeing flight over the Gulf of Mexico and Steve deplaned alone.
The next Snedegar family associate to meet a mysterious end is (was?) Charles Darwin Smith,
described as being in his early 20s at the time of his 1982 disappearance.
Chuck Smith had once worked as a truck driver for J&S Oil, the Snedegar family business, but his employment had been terminated for reasons unknown.

Chuck—then employed at a Kocolene Service Station in Greenfield—told Trudy Snedegar he’d had an odd encounter with Lora the day before she vanished.
On the afternoon of August 9th, Chuck said,
Lora, a frequent customer, stopped by to purchase gas in the company of a scraggly-haired, heavily-tattooed man—according to Chuck, she appeared terrified.
For reasons that remain unclear,
Trudy allegedly suggested Smith keep this information hush-hush—word of the Kocolene encounter eventually leaked to law enforcement, however.

By the time the scraggly-haired stranger story reached the Hancock County Sheriff’s Department Chuck Smith was no longer employed at the Greenfield service station.
According to Sergeant Munden, at this juncture Trudy Snedegar became frantic to obtain Chuck’s unlisted phone number,
claiming she had a job opportunity for him.
The second time Trudy stopped by the station to badger Munden the sergeant acquiesced to her demands,
sealing Chuck’s fate and providing us with the true-crime quote of the day:

“Dumb-ass me gives the number out.” John Munden, Hancock Sheriff’s Department; Orlando Sentinel, March 27th, 1994

A few days later Chuck Smith received a phone call from a man who identified himself as John Rogers, proprietor of the John Rogers Trucking Company in Knoxville, Tennessee.
Rogers said he’d received Chuck’s contact information from Steve Snedegar—he was calling to offer Chuck steady employment and a complimentary bus ticket to Tennessee, he claimed.
On March 28th Chuck’s father-in-law dropped him at the bus depot
en route to his new job at a company investigators would soon learn does not exist;
Charles Darwin Smith has never been seen again.

When detectives visited the bus station they learned the ticket seller’s name was John Rogers; the purchaser had likely noted the employee’s ID tag, investigators theorized,
and repurposed the name for the nonexistent trucking company.
When questioned, Steve Snedegar denied he’d given Chuck Smith’s information to anyone,
and apparently law enforcement attempts to tie the Snedegars to Chuck’s disappearance ended there.
Make of it what you will,
but detectives have never revealed the physical description of the person who purchased Chuck Smith’s ticket to nowhere, and Tony Lambert and Charles Darwin Smith have never been entered into NamUs,
the federal missing persons database.

I should further mention, while on the subject of missing persons, the existence of an additional vanished Snedegar associate: James A. Wilkes, Steve’s right-hand man at J&S Oil.
Wilkes hasn’t been seen since the mid-1980s,
but no missing persons report has ever been filed and he too is absent from NamUs.
The only publically-available information regarding James A. Wilkes —aside from the fact that he is missing—is his approximate birth year, 1952, and his last place of residence: Charlottesville, Indiana.
As is the case with Charles Darwin Smith, photos of James A. Wilkes are not available in the Greenfield Daily Reporter’s archives.

Many are Lost but One is Found

Beware the ides of April: on April 15th, 1982 a farmhand tilling a cornfield approximately twelve miles from the Snedegar residence spotted something odd amid the stalks.
At first glance he thought it was a deer carcass; it was not.
Badly decomposed, Lora Morris had been shot three times in the head with a .25 caliber revolver; her body— clad in a white tee-shirt and denim cutoff shorts—was found face up with her legs apart and her arms crossed.
Scattered shell casings were present at the scene leading Sergeant John Munden to tell the Greenfield Daily Reporter, “It’s my belief she was killed in the field.”

Although the medical examiner will determine Lora had been killed shortly after her disappearance it’s not entirely certain her body was present in the cornfield the entire eight months she was missing.
The landowner was adamant her body hadn’t been visible when the field was harvested in late October/early November,
and there is also the matter of the sobbing “sexual innuendo” phone call placed—allegedly by Lora—three days after her disappearance.
It’s possible her parents and ex-husband misidentified her voice and the farmer and his thresher somehow managed to miss her body;
these are only minor mysteries in the scheme of things, and there will be more to come.

Water Finds its Level, or Steve and Trudy Snedegar in Florida

Don’t fret; not everyone in this story manages to evade a happy ending.
Three years after Lora’s death Indiana businessman Tony McCullough—partner of missing person Tony Lambert and onetime prospective buyer of J&S Oil—received a phone call from a man named Gary Stafford.
Stafford, a self-described hitman who plied his trade in Soldier of Fortune  magazine, told McCullough he’d been hired by a Florida man seeking to avenge his daughter’s death.
Stafford had accepted a 5K payment for McCullough’s murder, he claimed,
with 20K due upon completion of the contract.
Magnanimous (or possibly just lazy), he offered to allow McCullough to live for a onetime payment of 10K.

In what is perhaps the sole instance of rational decision-making exhibited in this story McCullough immediately contacted law enforcement;
Stafford was ultimately arrested for extortion and sentenced to two years in prison.
Stafford refused to identify the Florida man with the murdered daughter who hired him, however,
and everyone moved on;
well, everyone except Lora’s mother Trudy—she was the next Snedegar intimate to drop from sight.

Although the impetus for both decisions is unclear, Trudy and Steve had divorced in 1983 but continued to live together in Astor, Florida.
Sometime during the summer of 1986—the specific date is uncertain—Trudy told her daughter Brenda
Steve had awoken her the last five consecutive nights by jamming a gun against her head and threatening to pull the trigger.
Brenda, visiting her parents in Florida, was apparently unfazed by this information;
and so was Trudy, apparently, since after five nights of terror she and Steve hit the town for an evening of country-western dancing.

Investigators believe the night of boot-scootin’ was Trudy’s last; although the genesis of this information is unclear,
investigators will subsequently hear rumors Steve and an associate took a plastic-wrapped body for a one-way boat ride on the Ocklawaha River a few days later.
The earthly remains of Trudy Snedegar, age forty-nine at the time of her disappearance, have never been located.

The day after Trudy’s disappearance Steve—after spending the morning sobbing in his office—led his visiting daughter Brenda to his Mercedes parked in his driveway.
Inside the trunk were stacks upon stacks of cash—one million dollars’ worth, he claimed.
Steve told his daughter Brenda to retrieve the cash if he is arrested but he is not arrested—and the cash, like Trudy, Tony Lambert, Chuck Smith and John A. Wilkes, is never seen again.

The investigation into Trudy’s disappearance is stunted from the onset;
when asked about his wife’s whereabouts Steve alleges Trudy left him,
and for reasons I cannot fathom none of the couple’s three children—Brenda included—bothered to report their mother missing for nearly a year.
When now-Captain John Munden learns Trudy left behind her purse, however,
he is certain she is sending him a message—no woman voluntarily goes missing without taking her purse,
he told Trudy when her daughter Lora vanished.
Trudy’s rationale for sending smoke signals with her accessories
instead of fleeing the second, third, fourth or fifth consecutive night Steve woke her at gunpoint is,
as are so many aspects of this story, incomprehensible.

1988: The Hancock County Sherriff’s Department’s Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very-Bad Year

In the interest of brevity I will spare you the details of the five-way officer sex tape and the deputy murder-suicide that many residents felt was a (cleverly-staged) deputy murder-murder;
let us simply say a plague of scandals descended upon the Hancock County Sheriff’s Department and an investigation by the local prosecutor’s office followed.
At this time we will trouble ourselves only with the specific travails of Captain John Munden,
longtime lead detective on the Lora Morris murder investigation.

Captain John Munden, as it happens, had entered into the bounds of matrimony with the wife of a murder victim whose slaying was being investigated by . . . Captain John Munden.
Optics aside, marrying the wife of a murder victim is not a crime,
and failing to solve the murder of your wife’s first husband is not a crime.
Peddling drugs, however, is a crime, and when Captain Munden’s wife Nieves Lindner Munden was busted selling cocaine he opted to retire from the force.
(For legal reasons I should note the investigation found no evidence Captain Munden was aware of or participated in his wife’s criminal activity, for which she served a brief prison sentence.)

The mantle of the Lora Morris murder investigation now passes to Captain Munden’s son Donnie Munden,
also a Hancock County detective, although John Munden remains an active participant despite his retirement.

Cancer Comes for the King, Does Not Miss

In 1989 a law enforcement official in the Snedegars’ adopted hometown of Astor, Florida learned Steve was dying of cancer.
Lake County Sheriff’s Detective Lynn Wagner—tasked with the investigation into Trudy’s disappearance—arranged to meet with him for coffee.
During their conversation Steve—citing a disinclination to die in prison—promised to leave a post-mortem confession tying up the loose ends in the assorted crimes after his death.
Malignant melanoma felled the Snedegar patriarch the following year—no written confession was ever located,
but a large bonfire was spotted behind his home in the days after Steve’s death.
Many investigators believe the timing was not coincidental.

Not every scrap of paper in the Snedegar home was incinerated in the post-funeral pyre;
while Steve’s children were packing up his belongings they discovered a map in Lora’s funeral guestbook—a large X marked a spot near the family’s Astor home.
Certain they’d discovered the gravesite of Trudy Snedegar—or John A. Wilkes, or Tony Lambert, or hell, maybe even Chuck Smith—Lake County officials launched an intensive dig of the Snedegar property.

They found nothing.

Home Again, Home Again Jiggity Jig (AKA Ain’t No Fit Like a Retrofit)

The last gasp of the Lora Morris murder investigation transpired in August, 1994;
although the explanation for his tardy notification is unknown, William “Buck” Estes, a Snedegar family friend, informed investigators he’d concealed a note in Lora’s coffin at Trudy Snedegar’s behest.
Hancock County detectives disinterred Lora’s remains but have never revealed the contents of Trudy’s last note to her daughter.

Into this information void steps retired lawman John Munden;
the Hancock County Sheriff’s Office has been stingy with the facts but the case’s first and forever detective has been generous with his opinions—he provided both his theory of the crime
and his confidence therein to an Orlando Sentinel  reporter.

“If Trudy were alive I could get a warrant for her arrest today.” John Munden, Orlando Sentinel, March 27th, 1994

Are you ready? Strap in tight, ‘cause there will be reaching aplenty.

According to the elder Munden’s theory of the crime(s), Trudy accidentally shot Lora three-times in the head during an argument,
possibly because Lora was considering reuniting with her ex-husband Bryce.
Trudy then dumped her daughter’s body (despite the scattered shell casings at the scene and the detective’s earlier avowal Lora had been shot in the cornfield).

Trudy then engineered the disappearance of Chuck Smith,
likely to impede investigators’ ability to identify the scraggly-haired man from the Kocolene sighting
the day before Lora’s murder.
(Trudy’s reason for sending a man to threaten her daughter twenty-four hours before an accidental shooting is not addressed.)

For his part, Steve Snedegar killed Tony Lambert and hired the Soldier of Fortune  hitman to kill Tony McCullough because he mistakenly believed one or both Tonys killed Lora;
he later murdered Trudy when he realized she was the one who had actually murdered their daughter.
(The disappearance of John A. Wilkes is also attributed to Steve, although the details and motive remain hazy.)

Do you feel let down? Did you want a more fact-based conclusion, possibly garnished with an indictment or two?
Perhaps you’re unable to reconcile Trudy as the villain of the story?
Steve Snedegar had to have known he was being set up to take the fall in the Chuck Smith disappearance;
why would it take him five years to decide Trudy was (allegedly) responsible for Lora’s murder?
And more importantly, where are the remains of the four missing players?
If you feel disappointed by the end of this story imagine how the families of Chuck Smith, John A. Wilkes,
and Tony Lambert feel.

Although the unfairness of the situation struck me only in hindsight, the four victims who were never found aren’t the only missing persons in this story—Lora Morris’s remains were located but she’s still essentially absent.
I don’t know if it’s a failure on the part of the Greenfield Daily Reporter or a result of the Snedegar code of omertà but we know not a single thing about her.
Not one sibling or friend or relative has recalled her love of life or uncanny ability to light up a room.
When she was missing none of her nearest and dearest noted her happy-go-lucky nature
or proclivity for lending the very shirt off her back.
Stories about unidentified human remains aside,
I don’t think I’ve ever seen a victim in a high-profile murder case portrayed with such a dearth of human detail.

Regardless of who killed her, Lora didn’t get to see her daughter grow up, her slayer was never punished and her voice was eliminated from the media accounts of her murder. Lora Lynn Morris was cheated.

The murder of Lora Morris has everything: a note secreted in a coffin, a mysterious map, a Soldier of Fortune  hitman and four vanished individuals now presumed dead. The only thing missing is a solution—and a narrative that gives any sense of Lora Morris.

Unsolved Maybe-Murders and Definite-Murders in Triplicate

The unexpected twists in the Becker family slayings didn’t end when the main suspect was acquitted
Although they’re generally referred to as the Friendly murders I suspect the victims found them decidedly less so
An intrepid amateur sleuth tackles the long-unsolved slayings of three Indiana businessmen
In 1966 three young women went to the beach and disappeared in a cloud of speculation
A beautifully-photographed thirty-year retrospective on the Oklahoma Girl Scout murders, Johnny Cash‘s personal true crime obsession
The missing Klein brothers are the American version of the Beaumont children minus publicity
Confession: at the first mention of these missing boy spelunkers the British horror movie The Descent  begins playing on a loop in my subconscious

And last but couldn’t be further from least: even though this blogpost has been brought to us by the number three we’re ending on a double. North Carolina’s Shipman-Glass-Shumate murders have been far too exhaustively examined to be contained in a single link (for dilettantes + for obsessives—you know who you are)

The Klein brothers: and then there was one

Clinton Hill Brooklyn; January 17th, 1947.

New York is a tough town, as the autopsy results of eighteen-year old Anthony Trabasso attest.
His skull and right hip are fractured and internal injuries abound,
but the Pratt University freshman’s least-grave injuries are his showiest: the letters N-A-Z-I, five inches high, have been sliced into his chest above a four-inch swastika;
the letter “A,” significance unknown, has been etched into the flesh of his abdomen.
The wounds are not deep but they are fresh,
still weeping blood when he was discovered—barefoot and clad in underpants and blue striped pajamas—crumpled on a sidewalk half a block from his Ryerson Street rooming house.

A search of Anthony’s ransacked living quarters revealed National Socialist graffiti in a more conventional medium:
NAZIS AT PRATT had been painted on a wall above his bed,
his mattress pushed off its box spring into the middle of the room.
The slogans NAZIS AT PRATT HELP ME and HITLER SUPRESSES MASSES had been scrawled onto a notebook and large piece of tissue paper, respectively.
Anthony’s landlord would later tell investigators she’d passed by his apartment in the wee hours; his radio was playing softly and she noted no sign of disturbance or Wehrmacht operatives.

The child of Poughkeepsie tavern owners,
Anthony told his family he was enjoying his studies at Pratt though he mentioned some friction with his classmates,
most of whom were returning veterans on the GI Bill.
NYPD detectives could find only one associate with information which might explain the Nazi trappings of Anthony’s demise:
longtime friend Norma Elwell informed investigators she and Anthony had attended a YMCA dance
six weeks before his death
and during intermission he’d shared a strange tale about a recent squabble with a Third Reich sympathizer.

According to Anthony
his National Socialist encounter
had begun in Grand Central Station.
While walking through the concourse he witnessed an elderly gentleman who appeared to be blind stumble and fall.
Rushing to the man’s aid,
Anthony ushered him into a taxi and accepted his offer to share the fare to Brooklyn.
The two made idle chitchat until Anthony noticed his new acquaintance was wearing a swastika ring;
World War II had ended less than two years before
and at the time Nazi jewelry was not simply a fashion faux pas—it was treasonous.

When asked about the ring the elderly gentleman deflected Anthony’s questions and instead began to mock him for his good intentions, implying only weaklings and fools offer to help others without remuneration.
Eventually the man smiled and revealed he’d been conning Anthony all along:
“I’m not even blind, sucker,” he reportedly said.
Although it’s unclear exactly why the codger was trolling—for the 1940s version of lulz,
I suppose—Anthony was incensed by the ruse and the oldster’s unpatriotic accessories.
After directing the driver to pull to the side of the road Anthony ejected the aging trickster from the vehicle.
As the cab motored off the old man swore he would one day make Anthony pay for his rudeness.

Is it just me or is headline-writing a lost art?

Although I only recently learned his name I first heard the rough details of Anthony’s death from a former Pratt student in the 1980s; informed of my interest in true crime
a friend of a friend mentioned rumors of an unsolved Nazi mutilation murder near the school’s Brooklyn campus.
In the pre-internet era it was nearly impossible to verify this sort of urban legend—the former Pratt student remembered neither Anthony’s name nor the year of his death
and sifting through microfiche without a timeframe is a pointless endeavor.

Despite the passage of decades and scarcity of specifics the Pratt Nazi murder lodged in my brain;
and a few weeks ago while compiling You Must Dismember This I encountered a crime so similar I was taken aback:
on May 3rd, 1940—six and a half years before Anthony’s death—an employee of the Pittsburgh & Lake Erie Railroad noticed a foul stench emanating from the rail yard in McKees Rocks, Pennsylvania.
Subsequent investigation revealed three corpses rotting in three separate rail cars.
The trio of remains had been beheaded and two had been dismembered.
The victims’ severed heads had been taken from the scene but the hewn limbs were scattered nearby.

Corpse placement at McKees Rock Railyard

In addition to appendage excision one of the bodies had undergone further mutilation; the letters N-A-Z-I—the “Z” inverted—was carved in five inch-tall letters across the chest of one of the torsos,
and it was this flourish that called to mind the murdered Pratt student of urban legend lore.
The railway victim with the chest mutilation would eventually be identified as James David Nicholson, age twenty-nine,
a convicted burglar and sometime male hustler.
The remains of his two unfortunate fellow-travelers have never been identified.

Though discovered in Pennsylvania the McKees Rock railyard victims are usually attributed to the Cleveland Torso Killer,
an unapprehended serial killer who murdered and mutilated a dozen victims in the late 1930s.
Also called The Mad Butcher of Kingsbury Run,
the Torso Killer preyed upon alcoholics and down-and-outers of both sexes;
his whereabouts after 1940 are unknown although some crime writers believe him to be responsible for several subsequent high-profile mutilation murders including the slaying of the Black Dahlia.

Certain the murders of the Pratt student
and James Nicholson must be linked,
I began scouring the internet for more information
about the student’s slaying.
The alumnus I’d spoken with said the Pratt victim’s ghost was rumored to haunt the school’s campus
and thus I assumed his identity would be easily ascertained;
I was wrong.
After googling infinite versions of “Pratt-student-Nazi-murder” I finally found the information I sought
tucked away in a subscription-only archive;
I also learned why I’d had such difficulty unearthing Anthony’s identity—the former Pratt alumnus had omitted one important detail.

Broken hips are far more common in impact injuries than assaults,
the pathologist who performed Anthony’s autopsy
informed the detectives on his case;
investigators therefore began to theorize Anthony had not been beaten but instead pushed from a roof or window.
Further investigation unearthed a single set of rooftop footprints leading from Anthony’s residence
to the building abutting the sidewalk where his unconscious body was found. Anthony had died barefoot and the soles of his feet were covered with the same black soot blanketing local rooftops.
Detectives also discovered a bloody etching implement in Anthony’s back yard, located directly beneath his window.

Anthony, investigators determined, had staged his own murder.
Feeling marginalized by his World War II veteran classmates, detectives theorized,
the depressed commercial arts major had fashioned a suicide scenario making it appear he’d been slain by Nazi sympathizers in a bid to gain the GIs respect.
He’d planted the (probably bogus) background story of the angry Grand Central Nazi with his friend Norma Elwell,
and the night of his death he ransacked his room, carved the National Socialist messages into his own flesh
and then clambered across several rooftops before jumping to his death.
Although his parents and some detectives remained skeptical Anthony’s death was ruled a suicide,
and the physical evidence seems to support the official verdict.

Although it’s possible Anthony had read about the mutilation of James David Nicholson—both N-A-Z-I torso carvings measured five inches tall,
an unlikely yet still theoretically possible coincidence—their deaths were not linked.
I don’t know where the Cleveland Torso Killer went after 1940 but he wasn’t filleting art students on Pratt’s Brooklyn campus.

Today’s blog post doesn’t have a moral but it does have a theme: disappointment. I’m disappointed I failed to discover a heretofore unknown crime of the Cleveland Torso Killer.
I’m disappointed Anthony Trabasso felt compelled to take his own life—he possessed an epic flair for the dramatic, and the world always needs more fearless creative types.
Furthermore, on a related note,
Nazis are having a resurgence in America at the moment and this also disappoints me.
A few weeks ago we were reliving the civil unrest of the 1970s and now we’re rehashing the merits of World War II.
2017 is destined to be a time-lapse montage of all the unpleasant events of US history, apparently.
Not only does this disappoint me but it frightens me as well.
I suppose I should start looking for blog topics relating to the Civil War as that’s clearly the next cataclysm on the agenda.

“What kind of man is the sock strangler? What dark secret lies deeply embedded in the twisted web of his psyche and compels him to murder again and again? What turns him on?” Fort Lauderdale News, August 30th, 1973 

7am, July 14th, 1973. A man walking his dog past a heavily-wooded yard in Fort Lauderdale noticed a scattered trail of women’s clothing:
following the garments into the underbrush he came upon the body of Jonina Kelpien, age forty-two.
Clad only in her bra, Jonina, an Iceland native, had been garroted from behind with a gold men’s knee sock;
she had also been raped.
Her white Cadillac, the interior flecked with blood, was parked nearby;
in the car’s back seat her cocker spaniel Sponge waited unharmed.

When detectives arrived at the Kelpien residence at 34 Pelican Isle—approximately one mile from the crime scene—they discovered Jonina’s key in the door but the inside chain lock fastened;
she’d been locked out of the house.
Rousing her husband Theodore from sleep, investigators learned he’d last spoken to his wife on the phone at 10pm the previous evening;
during the conversation they’d argued about her drinking.
Detectives later determined Jonina visited with friends in the Icelandic expat community into the wee hours,
and was last spotted at 3am at a nearby convenience store.

Eleven days later, ten blocks from the Kelpien crime scene:
shortly after 9pm a twenty-five year old secretary reentered her apartment after doing a load of laundry.
While groping for a lamp in the dark she encountered an intruder—fighting like a wildcat and screaming like a banshee, she managed to drive the man out her front door.
The assailant—who had entered via a jimmied-open back window—left his would-be murder weapon behind:
a men’s gold knee-length stretch sock.
Although it appeared identical to the sock used in the Kelpien murder the crime lab determined the items weren’t a matched set—slight compositional differences existed in the fabric.

The Kelpien home

August 3rd, just outside Fort Lauderdale:
one week after the secretary’s attack seventeen-year old Teresa Ann Williams crept into North Miami General Hospital after visiting hours to meet her newborn nephew;
she then dropped her boyfriend at his home around 11:30pm and vanished.
Four days later men hunting land crabs in a marshy area in Hollywood discovered her body,
nude from the waist down.
Her advanced state of decomposition precluded a definitive determination of rape
but her cause of death was readily apparent: she’d been strangled with a men’s maroon knee-length stretch sock.

The medical examiner determined Teresa had been slain shortly after she was last seen.
Her car, a white two-door Comet, was eventually located parked at an apartment complex near her dumpsite;
none of the building residents recognized Teresa’s photo,
and she had no known connection to anyone who lived in the area.
In her car authorities found a dozen eggs, indicating she had likely stopped at a store after dropping off her boyfriend.

Next to die was Hollywood-resident Marisue Curtis, age sixteen.
A recent transplant from Upstate New York, August 28th was her first day of South Broward High school—that evening her stepfather Stanley took her out for a soda to celebrate the occasion.
As they returned home around 9pm
Marisue chanced upon some friends outside the Curtis residence at 901 South Surf Road;
assuring her stepfather she’d be upstairs directly
she accompanied her friends to a nearby convenience store and then disappeared.

The following morning Marisue’s nude corpse was found by a fisherman at a construction site six miles from her home.
Attached to two concrete blocks,
her body had been placed underwater just off the shore of the Intercostal Waterway;
her clothing and bathing suit were found nearby.
She had been raped and strangled; a black men’s knee sock was knotted around her neck.
The building site’s security guard heard screams in the area at approximately 10pm but failed to contact authorities.

[Unimportant but interesting detail: security at the construction site was provided by Wackenhut, the CIA-affiliated company that played a prominent role in the Octopus conspiracy theory. Digging into the crime archives is like playing Six Degrees of Separation with murder victims instead of Kevin Bacon costars.]

Marisue’s stepfather Stanley Curtis, an attorney, wrote an open letter to the strangler

The Curtis family was devastated by Marisue’s death:
“How does something like this happen,” her sister Debbie Cantwell asked a reporter from the Fort Lauderdale News.
“She wasn’t a tramp. I can’t understand it—something like this doesn’t happen to good kids.”
Florida was experiencing a homicide spike at the time,
but even amidst the daily carnage the upper-middle class backgrounds of the sock victims focused substantial media attention on the slayings.
Dubbing the perpetrator the “Gold Sock Strangler”—“Gold-Maroon-Black Sock Strangler” would’ve been more precise—newspapers abounded with speculation about the killer’s identity and the significance of his chosen murder weapon.

“Perhaps his mother wore gold panties or some other gold-colored undergarment . . . . All right, let’s consider the material of those socks. Men’s stretch socks, weren’t they? Smooth, nylon, silky? Perhaps the smooth softness of the socks reminds the murderer of an undergarment; there is a connection there—the socks mean something to him.” Psychiatrist Dr. Raymond R. Killinger, Fort Lauderdale News, August 30th, 1973

A connection between the sock slayings seemed obvious to the press and area residents,
but in a Fort Lauderdale News  interview
a spokesperson for the Fort Lauderdale Police Department denied the murders were linked.
Homicide Bureau Chief Sergeant Jerry Meltzer acknowledged superficial similarities between the Hollywood victims—Teresa Ann Williams and Marisue Curtis—but he was adamant
the two crimes in his jurisdiction [the Kelpien murder and the secretary attack] were unrelated:

“The victims didn’t come from the same social strata. And I’m not convinced Mrs. Kelpien was raped; in the attack on the secretary I’m convinced the woman walked back into her apartment and surprised a burglar.” Sergeant Jerry Meltzer, Fort Lauderdale News, August 31st, 1973

Apparently law enforcement was so obsessed with quelling community panic investigators were willing to undermine a medical examiner’s findings
and pretend run-of-the-mill burglars arrived equipped with one extra knee sock.
The Fort Lauderdale Police Department’s message was clear: there is nothing to worry about, average citizen.
These attacks are personal cause crimes, and as long as you don’t pal around with homicidal maniacs you’ll be fine.

Although Marisue Curtis was the final victim strangled with a men’s sock the ligature homicides in the area continued.
Six weeks after Marisue’s death Vermont nurse Susan Mickelsen, age twenty-three,
arrived in Fort Lauderdale for a week’s vacation.
On November 20th her body was found in her room at the Fair Winds Motel—she’d been garroted with an item variously described as a woman’s sock, pantyhose, or nylon stocking.
Her assailant had placed an open Bible and a pillow over her face;
clad in a housecoat pushed above her waist, it’s unclear if Susan had been raped—the media reports regarding her autopsy are inconsistent.

Ten weeks later, February 6th, 1974.
When Ann Raub Newman failed to appear at her desk at 9:30am her coworkers immediately presumed disaster;
the thirty-two year old office manager was unfailingly prompt and responsible.
At 10am they went to her Hollywood apartment and found her dead in bed, nude from the waist down—a pillow had been placed over her face and a brightly-colored silk scarf knotted tightly around her neck.
Ann’s killer left two fingerprints behind:
one on the window screen he’d removed to gain entry and one on her bedroom doorjamb.
An autopsy revealed Ann had been sexually assaulted;
the crime lab subsequently determined her assailant was a B-blood type secretor.

Acting on a tip, detectives were able to match the fingerprints at the Raub Newman crime scene to nineteen-year old construction worker Gary Jay Matus.
Matus—like Marisue Curtis a recent transplant from Upstate New York—had been arrested the previous summer for prowling.
Like Ann’s assailant Matus was a B-type secretor,
a fairly rare attribute shared by only ten percent of the population.
Matus was arrested on February 8th while driving down State Road A1A—his car, interestingly enough, was a gold-colored Cadillac.

When questioned by police Matus did the classic dance of guilt, inching himself ever closer and closer to the crime scene.
First he claimed he’d never been in Ann’s neighborhood;
when detectives noted his stepbrother lived nearby Matus conceded he may have been in the neighborhood but had certainly never been to the Raub Newman residence.
When confronted with his fingerprint on the removed window screen Matus pivoted,
now claiming he actually had been outside Ann’s apartment but only at the behest of a friend
(named either Steve or Roy, his companion’s identity as changeable as the details of Matus’s story).

According to Matus he’d been enjoying a beverage at a local bar when he met Steve/Roy,
a friendly stranger who suggested they cap off the evening with a burglary.
Matus had accompanied Steve/Roy to Ann Raub Newman’s apartment, he admitted,
and had then helped remove the window screen—but he had never been inside the crime scene, he insisted.
When detectives cited his fingerprint on the bedroom doorjamb Matus adopted his final stance, a tale he would cling to through two trials:
he had entered Ann’s apartment with Steve/Roy the evening before the murder,
he now admitted, but no one was home at the time.
In a twist you almost certainly saw coming, investigators were never able to locate the elusive bar-hopping burglar who answered to the name of Steve/Roy.

At his first trial Matus was the sole witness and the jury split nine for conviction, three for acquittal—his imaginary-codefendant-ate-my-homework alibi was surprisingly effective.
At his second trial, however, luck failed him;
after five hours’ deliberation Matus was convicted of rape and second degree murder.
Sentenced to one-hundred and sixty five years in prison,
Matus’s projected release date is in 2034 at the ripe old age of seventy-nine.

Gary Jay Matus (left) and a court bailiff

Predictably, although the Fort Lauderdale Police Department initially denied the sock crimes were linked
investigators changed their tune after Matus’s arrest—although he was never tried for the sock slayings or the murder of Susan Mickelsen he was identified as the Gold Sock Killer in the press,
and investigation into the other strangulations seems to have ceased after his conviction.
Jonina Kelpien’s husband and Marisue Curtis’s stepfather attended every day of both Matus trials,
so certain were they of his guilt in the sock slayings.

Assessing guilt in the pre-forensic science era lacks the certitude of DNA evidence,
but Gary Jay Matus is almost certainly guilty of Ann Raub Newman’s murder—the imaginary coconspirator is a common guilt-deflection trope and the likelihood Ann had experienced multiple break-ins—-first by a burglar and then by a rapist/murderer—within the span of a few hours is infinitesimal.
Ann had been slain at approximately 7:30am and Matus had arrived at his job—scheduled to start at 7:45am—thirty minutes late that morning; the evidence against him is circumstantial but substantial.

However I’m far less certain is Matus the Gold Sock Strangler—the secretary who survived her attack was unable to identify him in a lineup,
and authorities have never revealed the blood grouping of the semen recovered at the sock crime scenes,
an omission I find suspicious at best.
Law enforcement obviously wanted the public to believe the local serial killer was behind bars, but the case against Matus for the sock attacks is less than overwhelming.

Ironically, the crime I find most similar to the Raub Newman slaying is the Susan Mickelsen murder—both victims were attacked in bed,
nightclothes pushed up, naked from the waist down, a post-mortem pillow covering their faces—but it’s unclear if the Mickelsen murder is related to the sock crimes.
Approximately ten percent of homicides are committed via strangulation;
while not the most commonplace murder method there’s no statistical imperative indicating every contemporaneous ligature strangulation was committed by the same offender.
The male knee socks transported to the scene are atypical enough to qualify as a signature, but Susan’s killer murdered her with an item of her own hosiery.

There is only a single factor which indicates Matus’s guilt in the sock murders but it’s persuasive:
Matus was a construction worker by trade,
and he was employed at the building site where Marisue Curtis’s body was found.
And Marisue, coincidentally, was the only sock victim whose corpse was concealed; the remains of both Jonina and Teresa were openly discarded.
Attaching the cement blocks and dragging Marisue into the water must’ve been a time-consuming task;
an assailant without ties to the crime scene had no incentive to hide her body.
And the odds of two murderers with a penchant for ligature strangulation frequenting the same jobsite seem astronomical, even in the homicidal wonderland of 1970s Florida.

Of course, astronomical odds don’t equate with impossibility; for example, what are the chances two high-profile murderers would patronize the same drinking establishment?
Matus was a regular at the Button, an infamous Fort Lauderdale dive bar;
and when Son of Sam David Berkowitz visited his stepfather in Boynton Beach he was a frequent customer as well.
When a Fort Lauderdale News  reporter mentioned the unlikeliness of this coincidence to longtime Button employee Bill Penna the barkeep seemed unimpressed:
“I think half the people who come around here are insane,” he replied.
I never knew the Son of Sam had Florida ties, but I can’t say I’m surprised.

Spring Break at the Button in the 1970s; I spent an hour playing Where’s Waldo?  looking for serial killers in the crowd.

Oral Evidence

Love, love will tear us apart again — Joy Division

Judith Mae Andersen‘s appendages were eventually found but her killer has evaded detection for more than five decades
Addiction shatters lives, and in Janine Johler‘s case the damage was both figurative and literal
Oddly, the want-ad Kym Morgan answered said nothing about murder
The torso found in the Willamette River has never been identified, but one theory holds water
An interesting mash-up re: Karina Holmer and Elizabeth Short, bisected victims with Massachusetts ties
And ending on a triple: I couldn’t find a single long-read about Diana Vicari so I’ve selected three articles and created a triptych (mysterysuspectexoneration)

Obligatory trigger warning for the faint and/or millennial of heart:

There’s a torso in the foreground but Barney Fife’s inappropriate grin is still the creepiest thing in this photograph.