One of the most fascinating things happening in the crime-solving world right now is the use of genealogy databases, like Ancestry and 23 And Me, to solve cold cases.
Most recently, and maybe most famously, we saw it this year when the Golden State Killer was finally apprehended after 40+ years undetected.
Privacy and ethics debates aside, I actually think it’s brilliant to be looking for matches this way if it gets more wastes of fucking oxygen off the street.
In the case I want to tell you about for this week’s instalment of TCT, the Fort Wayne Police Department ran testing on DNA evidence from a 1988 cold case using a genealogy database and came back with hits on two living brothers of the DNA source.
What are killers supposed to do? “Hey, family? Please don’t give your DNA over to 23 and Me. The police might find out I’m a serial killer they’ve been hunting for the last 30 or so years. Okay? Thanks, great talk.”
Back when it was originally airing, I watched Dexter religiously. If you didn’t love that show I question your taste on literally everything.
Now, a depressing number of years later, I’m re-watching the series, introducing it to my husband who had never heard of it. He was so very sheltered before me, you guys. I can’t even explain it without things getting weird. Keywords: Christian & cult.
Anyhooters…on one of the last episodes we watched Doakes is trying to make a break from the cabin where Dexter has him held captive – (it’s been literally five years since the series finale, you don’t get spoiler warnings anymore!) – and when he breaks free, he’s lost in the Florida Everglades where he stumbles upon a hungry alligator.
It got me thinking, what better way to get rid of a body in that area than feeding it to an alligator? That’s got to have been done before right?!
In doing some research for this weekend TCT post, I stumbled upon this fucked up story about a spring break gone terribly wrong, and an alligator pit.
For the record, these things are actual fucking dinosaurs, and that’s scary as hell.
Now, I know it’s not Tuesday, but if you read my post from last week about Blake Leibel, the trust fund douche who murdered his girlfriend just weeks after she gave birth to their daughter, then you have been waiting with bated breath for an update on the trial.
Or you’ve been waiting with normal breath, no irregular breathing pattern at all. That seems more likely.
Breaking News: about 12 hours ago, the jury came back with its decision.
So it’s officially time for True Crime Tuesday – Thursday Update…or something like that. It would be better if I had some kind of flashing graphics for it.
Full disclosure, I have not read Michelle McNamara’s I’ll Be Gone in the Dark….yet. Rest assured I am on the very long waiting list for the audiobook.
Library copies: 1.
So, while I haven’t read the book, I have been following the story of her life, and those she left behind, since her untimely death at the age of 46. I knew a little bit about her because of my true crime interests, but I learned the most because of Patton Oswalt. I love him; love his comedy, love his political activism and his opinions. Just love him.
It’s my favourite day of the week! That’s a lie. My favourite day of the week is Saturday. But “True Crime Saturday” doesn’t have the same ring to it.
So, True Crime Tuesday it is! And it’s my second favourite day of the week! Okay, no, I’m lying again. My second favourite day is Friday.
You know what? Forget about favourites.
It’s Tuesday. Fact.
Listen, I started a detox diet yesterday and I’m fucking miserable. I have a little under 2 hours before I get to eat my lunch of salad and half a chicken breast. And even the thought of that makes me miserable still because it’s so goddamn boring. There’s really no guarantee that I’ll finish writing this post before I eat the keyboard.
Let’s see how I’m doing at the end of this.
This is not a killer I am familiar with, but I was immediately intrigued because he has decidedly the most ridiculous serial killer nickname ever. I needed to learn more. And so here we are. Presenting: The Weepy-Voiced Killer (seriously who came up with that?)
It feels like it’s been a minute since I’ve done a True Crime post. Maybe because I feel like I’ve been really busy, but also the days are just absolutely dragging at work. I wasn’t even totally sure I was going to do one this week until a creepy story broke on Monday night from New York…but we’ll get to that in a minute.
I want to start with something a little bit different that I know is not technically “true crime”, but I created this regular post to talk about crazy/interesting crimes talking place across the globe so we can be aware, but also to talk about the deaths of people who were victims, taken from this world before it seemed fair or just, before they had a chance to experience whatever they went for in life.
And so, with that in mind, the Humboldt Broncos fit that sentiment.
Around 5 p.m. on December 6th, 2014, Jessica told her mother, Lisa, that she was going to the gas station down the road. Dressed in camouflage sweatpants, her hair in a bun, she promised she’d clean her room when she got back. She wouldn’t be very long.
She hopped into her 2005 Kia Rio and drove off.
Three hours later, Jessica’s stepmother was frantically pounding of Lisa’s door. Her husband Ben, Jessica’s father, was a mechanic at the Sheriff’s department so the police had contacted him first.
Jessica was on fire.
“I just don’t believe it,” Lisa has said. “Jessica and I had just gotten off the phone. How could she be on fire?”
It’s that time again! And maybe that time is occurring too much? I’m waffling on that, considering making True Crime Tuesday a bi-weekly post to give myself more room to research and write. But we’ll see.
So, last week I wrote about The Snapchat Murders – the story of two young girls who are the victims of a still-free killer.
This week, let’s turn that concept on its head. This is the story of two young girls who are the killers.
Hopefully, in the next couple of days, I’ll have my review posted for Two Girls Down by Louisa Luna. The story is that of two girls who go missing, and the P.I. tasked to find them.
It got me thinking of a more recent true crime story that’s captivated my attention. The murders of Abigail Williams (13) and Liberty German (14), known as Abby and Libby to family and friends, their seemingly random, and still unsolved deaths, have been dubbed the “Snapchat Murders” in the press.
School was closed on February 13th, 2017, and the two best friends, attached at the hip, asked Libby’s grandmother and primary caregiver, Becky, if they could go to Monon Bridge, a popular location for teens in the small town of Delphi, Indiana (pop: 3000.) The girls were granted permission with the caveat that they secure a ride there and back. Libby’s older sister Kelsi agreed to take the girls, and Libby’s father, Derrick, agree to pick them up. Kelsi dropped the girls off at Monon Bridge at approximately 1:45pm. Derrick warned the girls he was only giving them two hours before he’d be picking them up.