Missing people cases
Missing people cases
Just a blogger dedicated into raising people awareness
Hottest Daily News!
08-07-2020
Police Searching for Clues in 1974 Murder of Lois Virginia Williams
Family putting up billboard to help gather leads in grandmother’s unsolved murder case
Documentary Explores Cold Case Of Missing MSU Drum Major (plus VINTAGE LONGREAD)
Investigation into the disappearance of Tracy Kroh continues 31 years later
Podcasts team up to keep Ashley Morin’s disappearance in public consciousness
Man found dead in Kingsport in 2003 finally identified as missing West Virginia man
NEW LONGREAD: Suspect arrested for 1996 slaying of Covina senior
NEW LONGREAD: Investigating ‘The Mess’ of Rape Kits (part 1 + part 2 + part 3 + part 4)
NEW LONGREAD: What happened to Audrey Moate? (part 1 + part 2 + part 3 + part 4 + part 5)
08-06-2020
Florence double homicide remains unsolved, 20 years later (plus VINTAGE LONGREAD)
Marie Noe, the Philadelphia Mother Who Murdered Eight of Her Babies, Is Dead
Investigation of unsolved Sherry Lewis murder continues
Cold case disappearance of a 16-year-old girl is reopened
2010, Demetrius James saved $5,000 for a new car, and was killed for it
Remains found identified as Franklin County woman missing since 2010
Mom Whose Toddler Was Found Wandering in Fla. Might Have Met Man Online
‘Pleading eyes’ of missing Amish teen gaze out from car linked to accused kidnapper
VINTAGE LONGREAD: Who killed Aisha?
VINTAGE LONGREAD: Who killed Pam DeVizzio?
08-05-2020
Pro poker player murdered after meeting with man at Michigan hotel
30 years since disappearances of Heidi Seeman, Erica Botello
Serial Killer Junior Pierce Dies In Prison At Age 89
Man Pleads Not Guilty in 1987 Cold Case Murder, Rape of Woman in Carlsbad
No Body, No Weapon, No Crime Scene – How Disappearance Led to Guilty Conviction
Rose Howell Went Missing Over 17 Years Ago From Her Bellingen Home
The Blade launches new true crime podcast – Code 18: Unsolved, Episode 1: Presumed Dead
NEW LONGREAD: After 14 years, family still hopes for justice in Allison Foy’s murder
NEW LONGREAD: Nanuet mother who carried the pain of her daughter’s 1974 murder dies
08-04-2020
Sheriff raising funds for DNA analysis in newborn deaths
Ferndale police sued for leaving woman with eventual serial killer suspect
Podcast sets out to ‘bring light’ to unsolved murder of UGA student Tara Baker
POLICE FOCUS ON UNUSUAL ZIP TIES USED TO HELP KILL ST. CATHARINES SENIOR
Time stopped for Canadian who vanished in Australia in 1970
NEW LONGREAD: The kidnapping of Stephanie Bryan: Berkeley’s most infamous murder
NEW LONGREAD: Q6 Cold Case: “Murder on Main Street”
NEW LONGREAD: The Gun, Part II (Part 1 previously posted)
08-03-2020
The mysterious murder of a teenage runaway (unrelated overlapping murder)
Cold Case: Family secret uncovers new suspect in 1944 beheading
DNA Evidence Leads To Arrest In 32-Year-Old Castro Valley John Doe Baby Homicide
Suspect in gruesome cold case murder dies months after charge was dismissed
Ann Heron murder: ‘New suspect’ identified in 30-year-old case
More than 12 years on, puzzling elements surround the disappearance Laura Haworth
‘It’s a nightmare’: Dylan Ehler’s parents up reward to $15K for safe return
VINTAGE LONGREAD: Who Killed Denise Porter?
VINTAGE LONGREAD: Murder case is still a mystery to writer
08-02-2020
1995 Hachioji supermarket triple murder case remains unsolved
‘I need to know what happened to Hope Ann’: A mother pleads for answers
NEW LONGREAD: The Gun: Vincent Palmieri disappeared from Staten Island in 1972
NEW LONGREAD: Missing Persons Week launches with aim of saving families from grief
VINTAGE LONGREAD: She Was 16 When She Went Missing, But the RCMP Didn’t Tell Anyone for Three Years
08-01-2020
Susie Zhao murder: Suspect arrested in death of professional poker player
Florida Boy, 10, Hid in Bathroom as Intruder Beat 2 Family Members to Death
‘Peanut, we’re still looking for you’: Family pleads for help finding Vanessa Morales
Where is Natalie Jones? Family of missing Georgia woman desperate for answers
Iron Range man charged in unsolved 1986 homicide, but connection to victim unclear
NEW LONGREAD: Murderer in 1968 cold case never saw justice
VINTAGE LONGREAD: REMEMBERING RAVEN ONE YEAR AFTER HER UNSOLVED SLAYING
Answers Sought In 1975 Unsolved Murder Of North Webster Teen Laurel Mitchell
07-31-2020
Cincinnati police seeking information in 2006 double-slaying
Police reopen case of Virginia woman’s disappearance
Mississippi police say trucker’s disappearance ‘really suspicious
Indian serial killer confesses involvement in more than 50 murders
Evidence found in home of former deputy’s foreclosed home in Las Cruces
LONGREAD: Police identify suspect in killings of two transgender teens
NEW LONGREAD: Daughter of 1981 cold case homicide victim: ‘Somebody knows’
PODCAST plus TRANSCRIPT: Investigating the Murder of Rebekah Gould (part one + part two + part three + part four + part five)
07-30-2020
Genealogy data leads to arrest in unsolved 1986 slaying (photo of suspect)
Suspected serial killer charged with 1997 Lake County murder
31 years and still no information on the missing Jack family
UNSOLVED: The 1986 disappearance of Donna Mullen
Family still searches for mother of three after her disappearance 8 years ago
After 18 Months, Police Still Seek Clues on Who Fatally Shot ‘Star Wars’ Fan at Garage Sale
NEW LONGREAD: Unsolved Murder of TV Executive Drives Foundation’s Work for a Safer NYC
NEWLY REPRINTED LONGREAD: ‘Murder capital of the world’: The terrifying years when multiple serial killers stalked Santa Cruz
07-29-2020
NEW LONGREAD: ‘He’ll be my reason to retire:’ Coroner holding out hope to solve Regina John Doe case 25 years later
07-28-2020
07-27-2020
07-26-2020
07-25-2020
07-24-2020
07-23-2020
Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee.
A darkened cathedral, January, 1968. Rose Bottazi knelt in front of the shrine of the Virgin Mary and lit a candle of remembrance. As she stood to depart she stumbled. Plaster cracking, the gigantic arms of the Virgin’s statue reached out to break her fall. “Do not worry,” the statue intoned; “I have you.”
Then she woke up.
Rose did not often speak about her dreams but she told her oldest daughter Donna about her nocturnal encounter with the Blessed Virgin;
Rose Bottazzi was livin’ the dream: she had a loving family, a stable romance and a brand-new business venture.
The man in Rose’s life was South Orange resident James V. Gerard, age fifty-six, an Internal Revenue Service agent at the Newark Office.
First stop that evening was Peterson’s Sunset Cabin in Lakewood, an upscale steak house. James was clad in a blazer and dress pants, Rose in a three-piece ice-blue knit pantsuit with a “dressy” white coat.
Site of the last supper
Next stop: Tavern on the Mall in Laurelton. James and Rose dropped in for a quick nightcap; they imbibed two drinks each and tipped bartender John Vincintini a dollar (approximately $8 in modern currency).
The next morning Rose’s twelve-year old daughter Debra awoke to an empty house; she contacted her brother Anthony who contacted authorities.
A ’68 Chrysler Newport but not the ’68 Chrysler Newport
On one subject all who knew James and Rose agreed—the couple had not decamped voluntarily. A search of the pair’s financial records revealed no unexplained transactions or withdrawals.
Still certain Rose and James had skidded off the roadway, law enforcement officers continued to scour the Brick Township area, including the nearby Pine Barrens of
The address given is incorrect; it’s 253 Alameda Drive
Adding to the mystery, some items located in Rose’s residence hinted the couple may have arrived home after leaving the Tavern on the Mall.
Seasons changed. Two years passed. The Bottazzi and Gerard families offered a reward and disseminated missing persons flyers and then finally, in 1970, a possible break:
When a decade in the cooler feels like victory
Hugh Addonizio was convicted on various corruption charges and sentenced to ten years behind bars; he was released in 1977 and died in 1981, never speaking publicly about the Bottazzi-Gerard disappearance.
The door prize was cement shoes
A top-to-bottom reinvestigation into the couple’s disappearance was launched by the New Jersey State Police in 1978;
Renee Brown’s fate was a cautionary tale.
Vanessa Renee Brown and her son circa 1980
The ending of this story is definitive: on Valentine’s Day, 1984 scrap metal scavengers discovered a nude female corpse in a vacant lot in Philadelphia.
But we’re getting ahead of ourselves. First, some background: Renee was twenty-two years old, a single mother of a five-year old son.
This story begins—or maybe it doesn’t—in the wee hours of the morning on May 12th, 1983, eight months before the murder.
Renee was able to flag down a patrol cruiser a few minutes later; she provided a description of Kemp and his vehicle and officers spotted him shortly thereafter.
Renee didn’t live long enough to appear in court; she disappeared on February 28th, two weeks before the trial was scheduled to begin.
The ultimate disposition of the rape charges against Kemp are unclear. The 1980s were a different time; the media coverage of Renee’s case was an extravaganza of victim-blaming and -shaming about her late-nights and economic status.
Oddly, to me at least, investigators were adamant Renee’s murder and the upcoming rape trial were unrelated.
Renee’s slaying, whether related to her rape or a random act, has never been solved.
A selection of unsolved mutilation-murders and one (maybe) castration-murder for your reading (dis)pleasure. A little something to think about the next time some halfwit sidles up and screams, “You wanna a piece of me?”
ADDENDA: these articles aren’t longreads but the cases are on point and deserve a little publicity. Consider them the true crime version of an amuse-bouche (my younger self invariably misheard this term as amuse-douche, much to my adult delight.)
I’ve seen some bad things in Brooklyn but nothing like this
Three more reasons to stay out of Oklahoma (as if your current stay-out-of-Oklahoma pile didn’t already threaten to block out the sun)
Compared to the Evangelista dolls Annabelle looks like Barbie
Some people are born in Florida—others travel south to fulfill their destiny.
Does any story that begins with the detection of a foul odor end happily? I suspect not; this one certainly doesn’t.
For the better part of a week a putrid stench wafted across the exclusive community,
Wealthy. Eccentric. Outspoken. Rare is the media account of her murder which does not include at least one of these descriptors.
Mrs. Waples had emigrated from Michigan twelve years earlier, shortly after the death of her husband.
When Officer Frank Baughman arrived at the Waples home the stench was overpowering. He swung open the unlocked front door and a German Shepherd bounded outside, desperate to escape.
“Mrs. Waples was eccentric to say the least and finding her nude was not unusual. She was known to walk around her home nude at various times.”
Seven days earlier: June 18th was Mrs. Waples’ last night on earth and she lived it in the most Waples way possible.
Please pardon the low-quality
Knock-knock; who’s there? Patrolmen from the Naples Police Department, responding to your call for assistance.
It’s now midnight and Mrs. Waples is just getting started. Next door on Murex Drive the thunderous ring of the telephone—1970s landlines were calibrated to deafen the dead—echoed through the Smith residence.
4am, the switchboard of the American Ambulance Company. “Help me! Help me! They’re trying to kill me!”
At the Waples residence the crime scene investigation is off to a poor start. Cluttered with possessions and reeking of dog excrement and decomposition, the home was the forensic version of a Superfund site.
Hoarding detritus and dog feces weren’t the only impediments at the Waples crime scene. For reasons I cannot fathom Naples Detective Barrie Kee—instead of, say,
Dr. Heinrich Schmid, Collier County Medical Examiner, performed Mrs. Waples’ autopsy. Her remains exhibited no self-defense wounds, according to his report,
Mrs. Waples’ jewels were missing but detectives caught a lucky break; photos of her most recent acquisitions were available courtesy of a local retailer.
“Evidence”
Bad sleuthing to the back, stellar sleuthing to the front: with only a vague description of a wristwatch Rockford Police Officer Joe Shickles was able to blow the Waples case wide open.
Unable to find any locally-stolen Girard watches, Detective Shickles checked the nationwide BOLOs and discovered the Waples jewelry alert.
Detectives from the Naples Police Department, as it turns out, had already interviewed Richard Lee Mitchell.
Richard Lee Mitchell had surfaced on detectives’ radar early in the investigation because the patrolmen who spent Mrs. Waples’ final night playing door tag had recorded the license plate of a car parked near her home;
Richard Lee Mitchell was arrested in Rockford on March 11th, 1974 and fought extradition to Florida vigorously but to no avail; his trial began on May 6th, 1975.
“[W]e had one candidate who was bound and determined to be on the jury. She announced herself as ‘Mrs. Waples from Naples,’ and went on to recount that her recently deceased husband had relied heavily on her advice throughout his years of legal practice. She opined that she could be an excellent juror. The courtroom was all a-chuckle as she carried on.”
Say what you will about Mrs. Waples’ sanity but she always brought the party with her.
I’m guessing Mrs. Waples would say “murder”
The case against Richard Mitchell, also known as “Butch,” was not a slam dunk.
- Chester Treadwell, a longtime friend, claimed Mitchell bragged about “popping a cap in an old broad in Florida,” more specifically “a lady in Naples”
- Dale Kelley (or “Kelly,” depending on the source) testified Mitchell admitted “taking care of a woman” in Florida by shooting her in the back, then severing her hands to steal her (unbudgeable) rings
- Alcoholic beverage enthusiast John Masterson said Mitchell had paid him $25 per piece to sell Mrs. Waples’ jewelry (demonstrating Mitchell knew the jewelry was connected to a crime)
And Eugène Vidocq wept
In the 1970s jurors were not expecting a CSI moment. Mitchell met Mrs. Waples through his sister and observed her great wealth.
It was hidden up her skirt. Mrs. Waples, Medical Examiner Heinrich Schmid testified, was intersex.
Richard Lee Mitchell did not live happily ever after. Convicted at a separate trial for transporting Mrs. Waples’ stolen jewelry across state lines, he received a ten-year sentence.
“[Mrs. Waples] lived her life the way she apparently wanted to without regard for gossip or what people thought of her.”
The story of her murder has a depressing ending but the story of her life does not.
Rule 34 of the internet: if it exists there is porn of it. No exceptions.
Look upon my affliction, ye mighty, and despair.
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William Sproat and Mary Petry
Mary Petry and William Sproat weren’t supposed to be in Columbus the weekend of February 27th, 1970 but they were.
The couple, both French majors and aspiring teachers, attended different Ohio universities: William, age 23, was a first-year graduate student at Ohio State University in Columbus;
Murder House by Day
Late Friday afternoon Mary carpooled with classmates to a Holiday Inn just outside Columbus; she then took a taxi to William’s off-campus apartment located at 178½ West 8th Avenue.
“They (William and Mary) were clean, neat, and what would be called ‘square’ nowadays.”
Murder House by Night
William’s roommate had made plans to sleep elsewhere and none of the other tenants at 178½ West 8th Avenue were home that evening;
“It was a typical college boy’s apartment, banners and things all over the walls.”
Although the published information is frequently contradictory these few facts are (mostly) agreed-upon: the only items missing from the scene were a gold throw rug and a small amount of cash from the couple’s wallets.
Further reportage presents some minor variations: William was hogtied wrists-to-ankles with wire hangers which may have been tightened with pliers;
Newspaper accounts regarding the state of affairs in the bedroom differ widely. Mary had, according to some sources, been trussed with rope bindings later removed from the scene;
“There wasn’t any great struggle; the apartment was not torn up.”
The clashing reportage persists through the couple’s autopsies: both William and Mary had been stabbed in the back but the precise number of wounds—generally, but not uniformly,
The results of Mary’s rape kit are (predictably) unclear. Some sources state she’d been sexually assaulted while others state she had not—a Schrodinger’s rape, if you will.
According to OSU student newspaper
The media coverage, unfortunately, isn’t the only botched aspect of the Sproat-Petry murders; the Columbus Police Department, as so frequently happened in decades past,
“If we had been able to employ the technology back then that we have today we would have stood a much better chance of solving the case.”
I have no idea if these witnesses are reliable—their accounts appear only in the student newspaper—but two incidents occurred in the hours before the crime which may have been related to the homicides.
The final development in the Sproat-Petry murders occurred six days after the crime, on March 5th.
Also Rule 34: if it exists there are toys of it
When I first became obsessed with crime I believed my knowledge would serve as template for survival—I would identify and avoid the missteps which earned other, less-fortunate victims a one-way trip to the morgue.
In Living Color
“You want a piece of me?” asks the Gingerbread man
Once upon a time in suburban Maryland an amusement park was born and an amusement park died.
The Enchanted Forest swung open its doors for the first time on August 15th, 1955, an oasis of whimsy just outside Ellicot City.
Circa 1955
A good time was had by all, or by most, anyway; as the Enchanted Forest’s existence neared the three-decade mark the novelty began to erode and a savvier generation of tots proved less susceptible to the park’s resolutely vanilla offerings.
Years passed and the park became dilapidated, foliage creeping up and encasing the attractions in a leaf-strewn embrace. The Enchanted Forest became a famed location for urban explorers,
circa 2000
As infamous as the park became, there is one fact which is always overlooked; the Enchanted Forest was linked to a double homicide, a crime which remains unsolved to this day.
Enter the dragon—the Komodo dragon, that is. In the closing years of the 1970s an exhibit dubbed the Maryland Reptile Institute opened on Enchanted Forest grounds;
As is appropriate at a fairy tale park, what happened next was an homage to the poisoned apple in
According to the
A perfect attraction for children too young to understand the meaning of the term “Freudian”
Five days later, on October 3rd, 1980 Joseph Selby, age fifty-five, was
According to the
Six months later, on March 6th, 1981 a female motorist driving past 12102 Frederick Road in Ellicott City spotted a house ablaze. As this was the pre-cellphone era she alerted a nearby neighbor—who happened to be the chief of the West Friendship Fire Department—-who summoned help at approximately 9:40pm.
The Selbys
Investigators soon determined the fire had been deliberately set. According to a spokesperson for the Howard County Police Department,
Despite the best efforts of the Howard County Police Department the motive for the Selby slayings has never been established;
All good things must end: the Enchanted Forest, a crumbling monument to lost innocence, no longer exists.
The Enchanted Forest may be gone but nearly forty years later the central questions of the three park-linked deaths remain: did Joseph Selby kill Tootie, despite the state’s failure to prosecute?
Like fairy tales, some mysteries are eternal; but in the matter of the Enchanted Forest deaths I happen to have a theory.
The last thing you see before you die
“The mystery was never solved, never will be; and we shall talk of it with awe and almost trembling as long as we live.”
Glenrose Hospital, cuckoo’s eye view
Cindy Weber was a runner.
Catatonic depressions. Suicide attempts. Drug overdoses. The twenty-year old Edmonton resident kept landing in psych wards but she refused to submit,
Someone cut her down, but not soon enough. Cindy ended up not only trapped in a hospital but trapped inside her own body—her brain ravaged by hypoxemia, she was no longer able to speak or walk unassisted.
Cindy may have lost the physical capacity to run but she was still a runner at heart.
July 20th, two days after her daughter disappeared:
July 21st, three days after her daughter vanished:
October 22nd, three months after Cindy’s disappearance:
The term “crippled” is now antiquated but Mrs. Weber’s question is nonetheless valid:
Bereft of leads, detectives next shifted their focus to family members and hospital caregivers, polygraphing, according to the
On the one-year anniversary of Cindy’s disappearance Mrs. Weber offered a $5K reward for information leading to her daughter’s location.
O Sister, Where Art Thou? A Not Exactly Overlapping Not Exactly Crime
Cindy Weber wasn’t the only young woman reported missing in Edmonton in the early 1980s.
“We don’t have any hope left for her. I knew Laurie very well. She wasn’t the kind of person to run away without telling us about it. She would always phone to tell me if she was going to be out late so I wouldn’t worry. All she had was the clothes on her back and about $20. No, there’s no way—-she’s gone.”
Plot twist: two years after Laura vanished she was located alive and well in another province.
The
118th Street, Edmonton
I can picture Cindy inching her way across the floor on her hands and knees, careful not to awaken her mother—-but I have no idea who awaited in the darkness as she finally managed to unlock the back door.
Cindy Weber led a troubled life but least one of her wishes came true: she slipped the surly bonds of long-term hospitalization. If she died, she did so not as a patient but as a human being.
Luck is relative.
Central Prison: when all the good prison names are already taken
We might as well start at the end; backwards or forwards the story adds up to zero.
On August 27th, 1992 the North Carolina Department of Corrections announced the death of inmate Roy Lee Fox in Raleigh’s Central Prison.
No one who knew Fox, the boogeyman of Buncombe County, believed he was actually dead.
A long, long time ago in a holler not so far away: an illiterate fifth-grade dropout was given an honest day’s work helping farmer Charles Lunsford with his annual hay sale.
Chez Lunsford
11:30pm, November 10th, 1964. Imagine your wife is bleeding to death. Imagine your wife is bleeding to death and your phone’s been yanked out the wall so you can’t call an ambulance.
An unlikely badass but a badass nonetheless
Right out of the gate the robbery went sideways; the gang had planned a blitz attack on the sleeping Lunsfords
With Charles outnumbered three to one Ovella waded into the fray but there was a catch—a literal catch.
Despite her wound Ovella was still conscious during the three-wheeled trek to the hospital; she would die upon arrival and Charles, beaten savagely during the fracas, was hospitalized.
That deputy’s belt is the hardest working apparatus in Buncombe County
Even blood bonds have their limits. Arrlie Fox, to the horror of his family, testified against his three codefendants in exchange for a single life sentence on burglary charges.
Donald Fox was killed in a prison riot in 1968; in 1969 Robert Carson McMahan’s conviction was reversed on appeal
. . . And Roy Lee Fox lived to kill another day. Two decades later, on January 4th, 1985 Fox was back on the streets.
The
Regardless of whatever help Fox did or did not give federal officials he was freed with a single year of parole;
July 16th, 1986. Beware of strangers bearing fresh-grilled burgers. Eighteen months after Fox strolled out of Central Prison he encountered thirty-nine-year-old farmer Morris Sams at the Riverside Grocery.
The French Broad River, surprisingly narrow
After the shooting the three amigos considered themselves Fox’s hostages—or that’s their story, anyway. A few days after the crime the group returned to the cookout site and discovered Morris’s body afloat on the river’s surface.
Seems like old times; Roy Lee Fox was again arrested for murder. Morris Sams was a law-abiding farmer shot in cold blood without warning;
Forever linked, in a perfect world at least
He was down but not out; the wily Fox still had one ace left to play. After a few months in Central Prison Roy Lee Fox contacted Buncombe County investigators and expressed a willingness to talk about an unsolved double murder.
Do you feel lucky? Well, do you? Six weeks before Morris Sams’ final picnic Ohio resident Wesley Dale Mahaffey did;
At 12:15am on October 20th the Buncombe County Sheriff’s Office received an anonymous call reporting a white male “in bad shape” at Buzzard Rock,
The couple—described by a neighbor as “real friendly and real nice people”—had no acquaintances in the area and no known risk factors in their backgrounds.
The couple’s pristine backgrounds weren’t the only factor rendering their murders inexplicable; their presence at Buzzard Rock defied logic as well.
A 1978 Oldsmobile station wagon, chariot of the gods
Although clues were scarce the Buncombe County Sheriff’s Department did its best; yet one by one the leads which dominated the initial stages of the investigation fizzled into nothingness.
Text excerpt from Roy Lee Fox’s
“In regards to the Buzzard Rock incident this was a contract murder. I was paid $100,000 to kill these two individuals on Buzzard Rock by Buncombe County
View from Buzzard Rock, present day
According to Fox’s confession, the Mahaffeys had been slain in a drug hit contracted by an unnamed Buncombe County official.
Desperate for physical evidence tying Fox to the murders, detectives unearthed an informant who claimed he’d witnessed Fox dump a gun in the French Broad River.
Prepping for the river search
Despite this setback Fox was charged with the Mahaffey homicides on April 13th, 1987. For the next six weeks Buncombe County detectives waged an all-out hunt for forensics tying him to the crime.
Five years later a spokesperson for the North Carolina Department of Corrections announced Fox’s death at Central Prison.
River Search II, French Broad Boogaloo
If Fox were alive today he’d be eighty-four years old. Although I am generally skeptical of conspiracy theories
It seems almost inconceivable but Wesley and Bonnie Mahaffey are dead because they won a raffle; the phrase “good luck” will never sound the same.
Everyone agrees it was an accident.
Alcohol. High heels. A fifth-floor walk-up. The receptionist at my favorite hair salon met her demise a few weeks ago due to alcohol, high-heels, and a fifth-floor walk-up.
It is terrifying to remember so we strive to forget: safety is illusory.
Beauty is tyranny. Scheduled to wed fireman Frederick Weigold on January 14th, 1956,
35-57 82nd Street
On November 15th, 1955—exactly two months before her wedding—Kathleen skipped work to bid bon voyage to a friend leaving for Europe;
When his repeated knocking drew no response Dr. Schwartz attempted to enter Mae’s office—the knob turned but the door was jammed.
MINE EYES HAVE SEEN THE GORY
The tabloid press was granted an absurd amount of access to the crime scene; though there are some variations in detail these are the pertinent facts upon which all newspapers agree:
- Kathleen was found facedown, nude except for her stockings
- A set of rosary beads were entwined in her fingers
- Her one-carat engagement ring—valued at $550—was missing
- Mae was found fully clothed in her white beauticians’ uniform
- As she fell she pulled the window curtains down on top of her
- Kathleen’s girdle and panties lay on the floor beside Mae
- The electrolysis machine was still running
- Jazz was playing loudly on the radio, the volume possibly turned up by the killer
- A stopper had been wedged inside the door to prevent entry via the hallway
- Kathleen’s orange dress and bra were found neatly folded on a hanger in the closet
- A two-carat diamond ring Mae always removed for work was found secreted in a drawer
- The contents of both women’s purses had been dumped onto a table
- Approximately ten dollars was missing from Kathleen’s wallet and thirty-five from Mae’s
Subsequent autopsies will determine neither victim exhibited evidence of sexual assault and both had sustained a single bullet wound—Kathleen behind the left ear and Mae in the left side of her upper back.
Upon examining the crime scene details detectives theorized the event had unfolded thusly:
“This is one of the toughest cases we’ve ever been called on to solve but we believe robbery was the motive for this double killing.”
FRUSTRATION, DESPERATION, STAGNATION—OH MY!
“A wonderful girl, just the grandest, grandest girl”—that’s how Dr. Schwartz’s wife described Mae Gazzo to journalists after the murders.
Mae began operating the electrolysis parlor at 35-57 82nd Street three years before her death;
Despite a BOLO order issued to area pawn shops Kathleen’s diamond ring could not be—and has never been—located.
The next miscreant in investigators’ crosshairs was a Bronx resident named Louis Polite.
AN OVERLAPPING MURDER, ALL IN THE FAMILY
Four years and three months after the electrolysis shop slayings Mae Gazzo’s family suffered another blow—her thirty-five-year-old cousin Eleanor Saia was murdered in a real estate office in Oradell, New Jersey.
At 2pm Frank O’Shea returned to the office and found Eleanor mortally wounded—she mumbled incoherently, only three words decipherable: “Englewood, Edgewater, Lyndhurst,” names of New Jersey towns.
The office’s safe hadn’t been touched; the only item determined to be missing from the scene was Eleanor’s red leather wallet containing less than five dollars.
Leading with the bleeding, literally
Return home after having a couple of cocktails and you might die. Go to work and you might die. Have your rogue hairs zapped and you might die.
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