More than 2,100 miles, 14 states and, since 1974, 11 murders. The Appalachian Trail is a pretty safe place to be, unless you run into the wrong crazed killer. All of the 11 people who were killed on the trail that stretches from Georgia to Maine were killed by a stranger. At least those whose murders were solved.
Carol Jenkins was 21 and on the first day on the job selling encyclopedias when she made the mistake of agreeing to go to Martinsville, Indiana. She didn’t make it out of town alive.
That was 1968, and her racially motivated murder is still considered partially unsolved in a town that seems more concerned about defending itself against charges of racism that finding justice for a young woman who was brutally killed in cold blood on the sidewalk of a main street.
Join us for Episode 35, which also includes a rollicking discussion of the movie “It.”
The relationship between Massachusetts teens Conrad Roy and Michelle Carter was one that only could have happened in the 21st century. They lived less than an hour from each other, but rarely met in person. But they communicated nonstop by social media, and in the weeks leading up to Roy’s July 12, 2014, suicide, they exchanged more than 1,000 texts.
Carter’s conviction was the first in Massachusetts history in which someone was convicted of manslaughter for words alone.
Join us as we discuss the tragedy that was the relationship between Conrad Roy and Michelle Carter.
In 1912, the state of Maine bought Malaga Island and evicted its mixed-race residents, placing eight of them — an entire family — in the Maine School for the Feeble-Minded and casting the rest adrift, some with tragic results.
The move came after a several years of denigration of the people of the island by newspapers, politicians and area residents.
It’s something that until a decade ago, no one in Maine talked much about, or even knew about.
Now, in 2017, we’d like to think we’re better than that. Are we? Things like this surely couldn’t happen today. Could they? We discuss.
Yep, we’re back and all fired up after a month off. Join us for Episode 32. Actually, Episode 32 B. Because we’re not too proud to re-record if severe technical issues screw up a good story.
Soooo… it’s been 31 episodes. And it’s July in Maine. And we have day jobs (kind of). So we’re taking a break for a few weeks from Crime & Stuff. But that doesn’t mean we don’t have anything to say…
We discuss what we’re reading, watching, doing (Maureen’s reading 75 self-published books as a contest judge. By August 1. You can imagine what she has to say about that). Rebecca’s planning some pretty cool upcoming topics for when we return in August.
In the ongoing Maine case of Anthony Sanborn, the man who served 27 years for a 1989 murder he may not have committed, the most recent twist is that a profiler has linked that murder, of Jessica Briggs, to another in 1987 in Vermont. That murder, of Barbara Agnew, was the last in a string of New Hampshire and Vermont killings that may have been done by one killer.
The Connecticut River Valley serial killings have never been solved. There may be many more victims; there may be many killers; Briggs may have been the victim of a serial killer who wasn’t tied to those murders at all. How does it all fit together? We try to make sense of it.
On June 4, 2010, Kyron Horman’s stepmother took him to school in Portland, Oregon. There was a science fair that morning and Kyron, 7, was excited about his tree frog exhibit. His stepmother, Terri Moulton Horman, snapped a picture of him to post on Facebook later. It would be the last photo of the little boy ever taken.
Terri says the last time she saw Kyron, he was walking to his classroom at 8:45 a.m.. No one else saw him in the classroom, or anywhere else at school after that that day. Kyron’s disappearance resulted in the largest search in Oregon history, but no trace of him was found. Seven years later, no one knows what happened to Kyron.
Well, almost no one.
Crime & Stuff welcomes special guest, sister and college professor Liz Milliken, to talk about the Kyron Horman case.
Annie Dookhan, a chemist at the Hinton State Laboratory in Boston, was loved by prosecutors — she was a whiz, testing more drug evidence than everyone else in the lab, and she always got them the results they wanted. Although some of her coworkers wondered just how she got it done, no one else was very concerned because she was helping put people in jail.
In 2011, someone in the lab noticed she’d forged the name of an evidence officer in a log book. Investigators started pulling that string, and when all was said and done charges against more than 21,000 people convicted of drug crimes were dropped and estimates were she may have falsified evidence in more than 40,000 drug cases.
Find out how Annie Dookhan went from being a shining star in the Massachusetts criminal justice system to the biggest fraud in Massachusetts history.
And as a bonus, the trailer for our new Groovy Tube podcast!
Joyce Carol Vincent was pretty, bubbly, smart and talented. She also didn’t talk about her past and had parts of her life even those closest to her knew nothing about. Still, when the remains of a woman were found in a London bedsit in January 2006, about three years after the woman died, none of her friends or acquaintances realized it was the Joyce they had known. It just wasn’t possible.
But really, it kind of was.
Join us for Episode 28.
And in recommendations, we talk about Nobel Prize winner and all-around huge influence Bob Dylan. Spoiler alert: We love him.
You might remember Phil Hartman from Saturday Live, where in the 1980s he was uproariously funny as Frankenstein in the ongoing Frankenstein, Tarzan and Tonto bit, or as the Unfrozen Caveman Lawyer (“Your world frightens and confuses me…” Trust us, it was funny). Or maybe you loved him on The Simpsons, where he did another lawyer, Lionel Hutz, and Troy McClure, a newscaster and former unmemorable actor, who always opened with, “You might remember me from such roles as…”
And you also probably remember Hartman was shot May 28, 1998, by his wife, Brynn, who then shot herself.
We look back at Hartman, his wife, and the circumstances surrounding the murder-suicide.
When Blanche Kimball was stabbed to death in her home in Augusta, Maine, in 1976, police were stymied. She’d been stabbed 44 times and left to die, only found by police after neighbors became concerned at least a week after she was killed.
Gary Raub — then Gary Wilson — was at the time tearing an alcohol and violence-fueled path through central Maine, but somehow avoided serious attention from the police.
The case was one of Maine’s oldest cold cases. But in 2012, DNA and some smart cross-country detective work and, ultimately, a piece of apple pie flavored chewing gum, led to Raub’s arrest 3,000 miles away.
The case was the oldest cold case in Maine to be solved.
We also discuss “Tower,” more Kimmy Schmidt and lots of other stuff.
So, what do you do with a musical genius who loves guns and scares the hell out of people?
Well, since he’s rich, more famous than famous and influential, nothing.
Until someone gets hurt.
Phil Spector, whose “wall of sound” production transformed the music of the 60s, spent decades bending people to his will with crazy antics and the threat of violence. Lana Clarkson, an actress and part-time hostess at the House of Blues in LA, didn’t know spector when she met him in February 2003 when he stopped into the House of Blues in February 2003. She made the mistake of accepting Spector’s invitation of a drink and shop talk at his house that night. She didn’t get out alive.
Episode 25. Join us as we talk about Phil Spector’s murderous wall of crazy.
[In photo: Phil Spector points a gun as his bodyguard helps him in 1975. (Mark S. Wexler/Corbis)]
In April, Richard Dabate was arrested on charges he murdered his wife in December 2015. The evidence against Dabate is a cyber-crumb track of electronic device information, the biggest ones provided by the Fitbit his wife was wearing when she was shot in their Connecticut home. Investigators said it’s the first time a Fitbit has been used to help bring murder charges against someone.
More than 30 years before, another woman was killed, also by a Connecticut Richard. Helle Crafts body was never found — her husband had chopped her frozen, dismembered corpse up with a woodchipper and sprayed it into the Housatonic River during a blizzard. But enough was found to convict him, the first time in Connecticut someone was convicted without a body.
Two stories of relentless investigation helped along by tiny details, as well as some mind-blowing idiocy and laughable narcissism.
Want to see the area where Anthony Sanborn and his friends hung out and Jessica Briggs was murdered? Take daytime, and a nightime, tour with us, including Oxford Street and the neighborhood where Sanborn and others in the case lived; Peppermint Park, where the kids hung out; and the Portland waterfront, including DiMillos restaurant, where Briggs and others in the case worked and the Maine State Pier, where Brigs was murdered.
Updates on Logan Marr (episode 18) and Anthony Sanborn (episode 22).
Find out how Logan Marr’s sister, Bailey, turned out. Some good news for a change.
On the other hand, in the ongoing saga of Anthony Sanborn, the Portland, Maine, man recently freed on bail after 27 years in prison, find out what a case investigator had in his attic all these years. Hint: The defense might have liked to see it.
Frances Schreuder wanted desperately to be a member of high society, but she just didn’t have enough money to bankroll it. So she did what a lot of women would do — got her teenage son to kill her incredibly wealthy but tight-fisted father.
You may not recognize the names now, but the murder of Franklin Schreuder spurred several true crime books and two — yes TWO — TV docudramas.
And if that’s not enough fun, we also talk about some of Maine’s most notorious tourist-area murders.
Join us for a very special Mother’s Day Episode 23.
When 16-year-old Jessica Briggs was found dead under the Maine State Pier in Portland in May 1989 — stabbed, beaten and eviscerated — police quickly narrowed their focus to her fellow street kids. They arrested her sometime boyfriend Tony Sanborn in 1990, he was convicted of her murder in 1992 and an appeal failed in 1994. In April, after 27 years behind bars, Sanborn was let out on bail after attorneys spent more than a year combing through police and prosecution files that show a trail of lies and constitutional violations.
The star witness? 13 at the time of the murder? Turns out she was legally blind and couldn’t see what she’d claimed she’d seen, something the prosecution didn’t share with the defense. Another important witness? Police had threatened to pursue the adult man’s sexual assaults on underage girls unless he testified that Sanborn told him he’d killed Briggs. The defense didn’t know about that, either. And that’s just the beginning.
Sanborn’s release was a first for Maine, but what lead to it will blow your mind.
Join us for Episode 22! And keep an eye out for Episode 22.2, with important updates on this ongoing case.
Today’s quiz: After 9/11, what was the worst act of terrorism on U.S. soil? You know, the one that killed more people than any other? That’s right, Oklahoma City. Don’t you feel people have kind of forgotten about that one?
In any case, we talk about Tim McVeigh the twisted white supremacist whose bomb killed 168 people, including 19 young children in a day care center in 1995, including what led him to it and what happened after.
Episode 21. You never know what we’re going to say. Neither do we.
Ah, bucolic small-town life, where everything is wonderful. NOT. More like, where everything can be a real cluster f***. Take Franconia, New Hampshire, in 2007 for instance. Mix in a messed-up kid, a hard-ass cop and a vigilante gun-nut bystander and the only outcome there’s going to be is trouble. On May 11, 2007, Like Kenney shot Franconia police Cpl. Bruce McKay, then ran him over, at a traffic stop after McKay pepper-sprayed him. Bystander Greg Floyd then fatally shot Kenney with McKay’s gun.
And Kelly Ayotte, New Hampshire’s attorney general at the time, called Floyd a hero and, the next day, let him off without an investigation or any charges.
But that’s only the beginning of the story that inspired Maureen’s first mystery novel Cold Hard News.
In a VERY SPECIAL episode, we feature the April 2 Noir at the Bar event, in which a dozen members of the Maine Crime Writers blog and some guest speakers read (brief!) passages from their work. The Maine Crime Writers blog is a loose group of published mystery and crime writers who live in, and often write about, Maine. The genres run the gamut from cozy to hard-boiled — a little something for everyone. There may even be some lobsters and lighthouses.
Logan Marr was too young to understand why the state of Maine kept taking her away from her mother. Her mother, Christy Baker, didn’t really understand either. Baker did everything she was asked, but a tangle of poverty, culture and, most importantly, a bureaucracy that valued its own prejudices over the well-being of a child and her mother, won out. Logan Marr died at the age of 5 at the hands of a foster mother who, if state rules were followed, shouldn’t have had her in the first place. She and her mom never had a chance.
Also, on Episode 18, we try not to sound dumber than we ever have before in a chaotic Ask a Lawyer. At least we have some good recommendations! Join us.
Martha Moxley was bludgeoned to death, then stabbed through the neck with the broken end of a golf club when she was 15. If it had happened in 2015, an arrest probably would have been made almost immediately. But it happened in 1975 in an exclusive gated neighborhood in Connecticut and the man finally convicted in 2002 — Michael Skakel — came from a rich, powerful family that did everything it could to make sure police couldn’t do their jobs. And now, 15 years after his conviction, his money and relationship to the Kennedy family means the legal acrobatics JUST. WON’T. STOP. We take you through the nigh of October 30, 1975, and what happened in the ensuing decades, right up to now, as the Connecticut Supreme Court waits to consider a motion to appeal Skakel’s conviction, which it upheld in December.
It’s a story of wealth, power, privilege, kow-towing cops and warring writers. It’s a story of two families, one that had it together and another that was falling apart. Mostly, though, it’s the story of a teenage girl who died for no good reason, and the failure of the system to do something about it for a long, long time.
It was the best of times, then the worst of times, for two con men — and their marks — as they separately traveled America using one of the country’s most famous and powerful names to wheedle their way into the hearts and minds of the rich. And ultimately, for one, to commit murder. What drove these two very different men — one French, one German — to call themselves Rockefeller? And why did people who should know better buy it?
It’s a funny, shocking, tragic and ultimately sad story.