In death, Aileen Wuornos has the fame she craved in life

by Sue Russell

Today, November 18, 2010, marks the 20th anniversary of serial killer Aileen Wuornos’s final murder. During her bloody killing year, she took the lives of seven men. In the end, she dropped her death row appeals, keen to get on her way to be with God, and was executed in 2002. But, I think she would get a kick out of seeing her face on the opening credits of television’s Criminal Minds amidst the mug shots of Ted Bundy and John Wayne Gacy, et al. And, I know she would enjoy still being written about. Her appetite for attention and celebrity was so huge that even before her murderous year, she actively tried to find someone to write a book about her life.

She scared off one would-be ghost writer. During their meeting, she hit him up to lend her money and turned ugly when he refused. She promised a great story and hinted at having information about some unsolved murders. But, he got out of there fast and never looked back. I’ve always thought Aileen perhaps witnessed, if not participated in, an act of violence or murder earlier in her life. (I don’t have the space to explain, but you can find out why in my book, Lethal Intent.)

Aileen definitely craved celebrity. She often mentioned her wish to “be like Bonnie and Clyde,” even asking her partner's close friend if she wanted in on her plan. Later, in jail, Wuornos boasted to other inmates, “Don’t you know who I am? I’m Aileen Wuornos of television!” To her partner, Tyria, Wuornos bragged that she'd go down in history.

Her final victim was Walter “Gino” Antonio. On November 17, 1990, Tyria flew out of state to join her family for Thanksgiving. The next day, Mr. Antonio, driving to Alabama to see his fiancée, Aleen, made the deadly mistake of picking up Aileen Wuornos, who was working the interstates as a prostitute. Men on the road, Aileen knew, generally had a good stash of cash. Antonio wore a diamond and gold nugget ring--a special gift from his fiancée.

Aileen later claimed Antonio pulled a badge and, claiming to be a cop, demanded sex for free or he’d arrest her. He was a former reserve cop and did carry a badge, handcuffs, and a police-style billy club in his vehicle. She suspected the badge was a fake, bought through a private detective magazine. She was angry, and they argued.

Even with handcuffs and a billy club in the car, I doubt Antonio ever had the upper hand on her physically. When they argued alongside his car, she said, she reached into her bag for her gun, and they struggled. He fell, got back on his feet and, naked save for his tube socks, fled. Aileen, also naked, shot him in the back as he ran. She couldn’t recall how many shots she fired because she had drunk so much beer. Well, three bullets hit him in the back, a fourth in the back of the head. She regularly used empty beer cans for target practice and was a good shot.

Aileen said Antonio was still alive when she took his prized ring off his finger. If he was, he was likely drawing his last breaths because that year she was leaving behind no witnesses. Cursing, she tossed aside a set of false teeth he kept in the glove compartment, but she grabbed everything of value. She drove away naked, pulled over to get dressed, and threw out more of his personal items. Back at her motel, she parked his Pontiac Grand Prix, removed a suitcase from the trunk, and went inside her room.

When Tyria returned from her trip, Aileen slipped Mr. Antonio’s diamond and gold nugget ring on her finger.

His body was found a day later, and he was identified by his fingerprints. By then, the net was tightening. Sketches of Aileen and Tyria were aired on TV on November 29. Aileen’s longed-for fame was about to explode. That’s when Tyria left her, afraid she would be implicated in the murders.

After her arrest, Aileen confessed to killing seven men, and her conviction seemed inevitable. Even so, speaking to her the night before the verdict, she was so upbeat I knew she fully expected to hear “not guilty.” She was outraged by her conviction. She’d imagined herself being viewed as a hero. What was this serial killer stuff? Knowing how sure she had been that she’d be set free, when Judge Uriel Blount sentenced her to death the next day, my legs felt a little wobbly. She has been gone eight years, but it’s a moment I’ll always remember.

Aileen Wuornos was executed by lethal injection in October 2002, after a decade on Death Row. Award-winning journalist and author Sue Russell’s fact crime book, Lethal Intent, is being re-issued in November 2010 as a Kensington Books' “True Crime Classic.” Follow her on Twitter or Facebook

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Black-Eyed Borgia

by Deborah Blum

Mary Frances Creighton, Fanny to her friends, was a rather appealing 24-year-old in the summer of 1923. She had curling dark hair, pale skin, “deep, luminous eyes,” according to The New York Evening Post, and lush, “petulant lips,” according to The New York American.

The New York Times more sedately described her as a “comely brunette,” or as “a young mother.” She had a three-year-old daughter, Ruth, and a newly born son, John Jr. The baby had been born in the Newark, N.J. jail, while both she and her husband, John, (together, above left) awaited a trial on charges that they’d killed Fanny's young brother with arsenic.

Hence all the publicity. The newspapers ran few photos of scrawny sandy-haired John. But Fanny Creighton willingly posed for admiring photographers: dressed in long-sleeved demure black, despite the summer heat, eyes lowered, carved silver cross hanging around her neck, infant cradled in her arms.

The image was of a gentle Madonna, the least likely person to have killed a younger brother for a life insurance payout.

The jurors also believed her an unlikely murderer. Both the Creightons were found innocent of the charges. But, in fact, although her husband was only a dupe in the affair, Fanny Creighton was guilty. She admitted to the killing a dozen years later. That was after she’d been charged with yet another arsenic murder.

In the second case – the murder of a close friend’s wife on Long Island – Creighton (and the close friend) went to the electric chair. This time, the press did not find her so appealing: “The Black-Eyed Borgia” screamed one headline. And this time the evidence was not so easily brushed away – the forensic results were so precise that the laboratory could identify the brand of arsenic-laced rat poison used – and the guilty decision came very quickly.

The different endings to two prosecutions of the same woman offer a remarkable measure of how much and how fast forensic science had grown up in the intervening decade. Today, we tend to take such scientific expertise for granted. This is not to imply perfection in a human enterprise. We’ve all followed recent scandals involving overworked criminal laboratories that misstated or even made up some of the findings. But that involves people making bad, really bad, decisions. The basic science itself – our ability to tease a poison out of tissue, identify a blood type, analyze traces of fibers or soils – those techniques stand as solid.

That was far from true in the early 20th century. Elected coroners often knew nothing about science or how to determine cause of death. As I learned in researching my book, The Poisoner's Handbook, death certificates from the time period sometimes merely gave “Act of God” as the cause. Police detectives regarded these strangers from laboratories with real suspicion, refusing to accept their findings. And lawyers found laboratory results to be a wonderfully easy target.

All of that worked perfectly to Fanny Creighton’s advantage in her first murder trial: “My clients know nothing of how this boy came to be poisoned!” her lawyer declared.

John Creighton and Mary Frances Avery were long time friends when they married in 1919. He was the son of an executive with the Pennsylvania Railroad Company. She, her brother and two sisters were orphans, cared for by affluent grandparents.

The newlyweds moved in with Creighton's parents, who owned a big, two-story home in Newark’s comfortable Roseville neighborhood. They shared the space for a year until his mother died at age 47 of apparent attack of food poisoning in 1920. His father, also 47, died the following year, of a sudden heart ailment.

 

In the 1920s, a powdery form of arsenic called white arsenic, also known as arsenic trioxide, was mixed into an astonishing array of home products. These included a tonic to improve one’s complexion (Fowler’s solution), prescription medicines, weed killers and pesticides, such as the popular rat poison Rough on Rats, which was 10 percent soot and 90 percent white arsenic. In their analysis of Charles Avery’s body, forensic scientists could easily detect arsenic in the tissues – tests had been available since the mid-19^th century – but they were unable to figure out which of these many poisons was responsible.

Fanny Creighton used Fowler's Solution to improve her pale complexion. But as her attorney pointed out, the mixture was so dilute that it would have taken gallons to kill the boy. Avery had access to rat poison at the grocery where he worked. The Creightons' attorney suggested that he might have taken it himself. His sister said he was depressed about a girl. The jury found the poison evidence so inconclusive that they quickly returned a not-guilty verdict. The angry prosecutor – convinced that Fanny, at least, was a murderer - then charged her with using arsenic to kill her mother-in-law. But that case foundered on even thinner scientific results. As Fanny Creighton walked away from the courthouse, she sent the prosecutor a message of forgiveness: “I bear no malice toward anyone.”

After the trial, the Creightons left New Jersey and moved to the small town of Baldwin on Long Island. During the Depression, they rented part of their home to another couple, Everett and Ada Applegate. Fanny had lost her dark Madonna looks by then. But her daughter Ruth was a rather lovely 15-year-old, and Ev Applegate decided he'd much rather be married to Ruth than to Ada, who was both fat and ill-tempered. Ev began sleeping with Ruth on the sly, and he told Fanny that if only he were free, he'd be glad to marry her daughter.

On September 27, 1935, Ada Applegate died of acute gastrointestinal distress. Prompted by an anonymous letter, the police opened and investigation and requested a forensic analysis. This time the tests -- done by New York's star toxicologist Alexander Gettler -- were inarguable. Not only did Gettler find three times the lethal dose of arsenic in Ada Applegate's body, he was able to identify the impurities in the poison as soot -- in fact, the exact proportion of soot found in Rough on Rats. The police traced the purchase of the poison, and Applegate and Creighton admitted to buying it together.

Creighton (left) also admitted, in an interview, that she'd used Rough on Rats to kill her brother. Investigators just hadn't known then how to identify it so precisely. It was such precision -- and a new awareness by police and the public of the science itself -- that changed the way we think about forensic medicine. There also was a very definite message in the end of Mary Frances Creighton's story. 

On July 16, 1936, she and Everett Applegate went to the electric chair at Sing Sing Prison.

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