The Torch Killer, or The Wickedest Stepmother Ever

by Laura James

I remember visiting a prison for women, where, out of 163 inmates, I found but three or four with regular features and only one who could be called pretty; all the rest, old and young, were more or less of an ugly and repulsive appearance.

--Raffaele Garofalo, Criminology (1914 Textbook)

If Mrs. Mumbulo's victim had been a man, you'd know her name today. But her ill-starred victim was her 11-year-old stepdaughter.

On March 21, 1930, Mrs. Edna Mumbulo of Erie, Pennsylvania, threw a pan of gasoline on little Hilda and set her on fire, not only killing her, but inflicting a slow and agonizing end.

Later that morning, as Hilda lay in the hospital gasping her last breath, her father and stepmother were already in their insurance man's office cashing in her $6,000 life insurance policy.

Edna admitted it. She said she didn't intend to throw the gasoline on little Hilda -- the pan accidentally ignited, see, and Mrs. Mumbulo was only trying to throw the blazing pan outdoors; she was aiming for the window in the girl's room, and, gosh, it was closed, and the lit gasoline splashed back six feet onto Hilda's bed, without, somehow, ever singeing Mrs. Mumbulo.

That was her defense. In other words, the case was as open-and-shut as rotten meat in the refrigerator.

Okay, there is a bit more to the tale than that. None of it, I assure you, in the least helpful to Mrs. Mumbulo's attorneys.

I came across this case in an article recently printed in the Journal of Criminal Justice and Popular Culture, which resurrected the Torch Killer case from total historical obscurity. The article is a very well written account of the murder investigation and subsequent trial -- a brilliant rendering of the case, though bracketed with some curious commentary. The author posits that Edna Mumbulo was a victim of old stereotypes about wicked stepmothers -- that locals were able to assume the worst of her because the "wicked stepmother" opinion had a ready-made foundation in our fairy tales.

"The stepmother stereotype has been harmful," he states. "The Erie public, having consumed a lifetime of fairy tales and myths, organized the known facts of the Mumbulo case into the 'wicked stepmother' framework. In doing so, they condemned a woman to prison...Whether she committed the act or not, she was convicted because she was the living embodiment of the 'wicked stepmother.'”

And yet justice was not actually blind to Edna's individuality. Edna Mumbulo was gorgeous. Look at her photo, that hair, that smile. Imagine her weeping on the stand before her all-male audience. Yep, file Edna under Too Beautiful To Be Bad.

The author, Joseph Laythe of the Edinboro University of Pennsylvania, was kind enough to clarify for me that Edna did not put in as good an appearance at the trial as the photo run by the Associated Press might imply. And yet I am reminded of a comment once made by an Illinois State's Attorney in 1912 on women defendants: "The defendant need not be beautiful; if she merely appears feminine on the stand she is safe."

One lone juryman held out for an acquittal, and hours of wrangling with others who wanted to send her to the electric chair led to a compromise verdict of second-degree murder.

Mrs. Mumbulo's imprisonment was a mere lull in the legal battle. It was common knowledge in 1930 that only ugly women commit brutal crimes. Edna was an attractive young woman and a mother. During her trial for murder, she was reunited with a daughter she didn't raise, and everyone saw them weep and fall into one another's arms. What is clear from the newspaper coverage of the case -- surprisingly sparse at the time -- is that the men on the jury and on the bench did not want to believe this attractive woman -- a mother, forget the step -- could commit such an atrocious crime.

Over time, they convinced themselves that it might have been an accident after all. The judge recommended a pardon. Instead, the governor gave her a Christmas commutation in 1938, sentencing her to time served. Edna ended up serving a mere eight years and three months for murdering her stepdaughter.

Who locked Cinderella in the tower on the night of the ball? Who poisoned Snow White's apple? Who abandoned Hansel and Gretel in the woods? Rather than perpetuate stereotypes, our fairy tales fail to paint a portrait as horrifying as Pennsylvania's unfortunately all-too-real, gasoline-wielding wicked stepmother.

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The Poisoning of a Flapper Girl

by Deborah Blum

First, this is the story of a beautiful young actress, the adventure-loving heroine of hit films such as Madcap Madge and the Flapper. But second, and perhaps important, it is the cautionary tale of her death by poison at the age of 25, just as she was making the move from starlet to full-fledged star.

The actress, Olive Thomas, had the look of a charming child - a shining bob of dark, curly hair, big violet-blue eyes, and a pale, heart-shaped face. It was a look that launched her career, starting in 1914 when she’d won a “Most Beautiful Girl in New York City" contest. She went on to become a featured Ziegfield Follies dancer, a graceful waif drifting in a zephyr of scarves. The pin-up artist, Alberto Vargas, painted her wearing only a red rose and a wisp of lacy black satin. Within a few years, she was making films for Selznick Studios.

In the way of people who seem to own charmed lives, Thomas soon married a member of Hollywood’s inner circle, Jack Pickford – younger brother of screen star Mary Pickford. The couple rapidly developed a reputation for wild behavior, intense partying, intense quarreling, usually over his numerous side affairs – he’d developed syphilis as a result of one of them. They separated, reunited, separated, tried again, ever delighting the gossip magazines. “She and Jack were madly in love with one another, but I always thought of them as a couple of children playing together…” Mary Pickford wrote sadly in her autobiography many years later.

In early September 1920, the couple sailed away to Paris, reportedly on a reconciliation holiday. They checked into the Hotel Ritz and whirled off to enjoy time in a Prohibition-free city, drinking and dancing at the Left Bank bistros until the early morning. At the end one particularly drunken spree, Pickford and Thomas staggered into their hotel room at nearly three in the morning. Jack, barely standing, simply fell into the bed. His wife, still restless, still energized by the evening, puttered around the room, wrote a letter, and finally tiring, went into the bathroom to get ready for sleep.

As Pickford told the police, he was floating in a whiskeyed haze when Olive began screaming, over and over, “Oh my God, my God.” He stumbled into the dimly lit bathroom, where she was leaning against the counter. Mistaking it for her sleeping medicine, she had picked up a bottle of the bichloride of mercury antiseptic lotion that he rubbed on the painful sores caused by syphilis, poured a dose, and chugged it down.

Also known by the rather awful name of corrosive sublimate, the compound is acutely poisonous; it kills by attacking the digestive track and eventually destroying the kidneys. As the name implies, corrosive sublimate is extremely caustic. As it burned down her throat, she had a moment to realize her mistake. He caught her up and carried her back to the bed, grabbing the phone and calling for an ambulance. “Oh my God,” she repeated, “I’m poisoned.”

As the story broke, as Thomas lingered in the hospital for three more days, the newspapers repeated every rumor smoking around them – his infidelities had driven her to suicide; Pickford had wished to get rid of her and tricked his wife into taking the poison; as the days passed, he became more evil, she more saintly. So many people flocked to Thomas’s funeral in Paris that women fainted in the crush and the streets became carpeted with countless hats, knocked off and trampled.

The police launched an investigation, including an autopsy, and concluded that it was, as Pickford had said, just a terrible accident. In an interview with The Los Angeles Examiner after his return to California, Pickford couldn’t stop dwelling on how much his wife had wanted to live: “The physicians held out hope for her until the last moment, until they found her kidneys paralyzed. Then they lost hope. But the doctors told me she had fought harder than any patient they ever had.”

Olive Thomas’s death by bichloride of mercury wasn’t the first, wasn’t the only, and wouldn’t be the last. In New York City, the medical examiner’s office calculated that the compound caused about 20 deaths a year, mostly suicides. But Thomas definitely gave the poison a new star status, and her death still serves as one of many reminders – not always appreciated – that mercury has made a poisonous path through far too much of human history.

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Profile of 'The Profiler'

by Cathy Scott

The Profiler: My Life Hunting Serial Killers and Psychopaths, by criminal profiler and WCI contributor Pat Brown, with co-author Bob Andelman, hits book shelves tomorrow (May 18).

Waiting for police to act on the 1990 murder of Anne Kelley, Pat Brown couldn't understand what was taking so long to bring the case to a close. Brown had long suspected a possible connection to the odd man who'd briefly rented a room in her home. At the time unfamiliar with the criminal investigative process, Brown believed the Kelley case was unusual. But as she began exploring unsolved murders in her area, she soon realized the case, unfortunately, was not all that rare.

For example, in Washington, D.C. alone, Brown learned  that the murders of more than 120 women remained unsolved. "Who killed Nia Owens, Dana Chisholm, and Ann Bourghesani?" Brown asks in her latest book, The Profiler.

Who, indeed?

Brown vowed to do something. It was a move that would define her ensuing career as a criminal profiler. "Dead women were turning up everywhere," she writes in The Profiler. "It's like when you're pregnant and suddenly you notice how many other women are pregnant." It was a seminal moment. While she might not have been able to bring the Kelley case to an immediate close, she could help investigators and families figure out who might have killed other women, plus help determine if any of those cases were related, suggesting a serial killer might be on the loose.

She printed photos of 15 murder victims -- all women -- from across the country. She laminated the photos and placed each above the word "unsolved," written in large letters. Next, she hung the photos in a booth she rented at an outdoor festival. Festival-goers were stunned at the display. They'd assumed cases they'd read about in newspapers and seen on TV news reports had been solved. "They never caught that killer either," one person commented, pointing to the photo of a woman in the display.

Eventually, Brown launched a nonprofit group and web site. She took every training course available and read some 400 books on the subject and subtopics. Then she began profiling criminals. When the D.C. sniper in 2002 shot at people and their vehicles, the news media found Brown through her site. The attention catapulted her into the public eye and onto the airwaves, and one mystery case led to another. Today, she travels across the country consulting, criminal profiling and commenting on cases.

The Profiler is the result of that work, looking at individual cases, the evidence and circumstances surrounding them, any similarities to other cases, as well as peculiarities of certain murders. With this book, which Brown calls purposeful, she not only wants to pass on what she's learned and details of the cases she's worked on; she's hoping to see national changes in use of profilers. Her concept would have police departments use criminal profilers as standard tools, either inside the departments or outside, for the homicides they investigate.

In addition, she wants to to see profilers involved early on in a homicide investigation, within the first 48 hours. "What I've learned over a decade and a half of profiling cases is that you cannot bring a criminal profiler in late in the game. The evidence is long gone.

"We have far too many unsolved crimes, we have too little justice, and we have too many killers on the streets repeating those crimes," says Brown, who also received a master's degree in criminal justice from Boston University in 2007. Her aim is for "criminal profilers to be trained, including police investigators. There are thousands and thousands of unsolved homicides across the country."

But with law enforcement funding tight, Brown is realistic and understands fulfillment of her goal will take time. Eventually, she believes, it will happen. "In the long run," Brown says, "It could help save a lot of lives."

The Profiler is available wherever books are sold. Or order it on Amazon.com

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Behind Prison Walls: Inside Ellis Unit One

by Donna Pendergast

That old white haired judge in Dallas

Didn't pay my story no mind

They're taking me down to Huntsville

I'm bringing in a load of time

--Merle Haggard

Huntsville, Texas, is the execution capital of the world and the headquarters of the Texas Department of Criminal Justice. Huntsville has become a metaphor for incarceration and Death Row issues. Hearing the word conjures up visions of chain gangs, prison riots, and Death Row. Immortalized in books, movies and songs, Huntsville is a metaphor for all things prison-related, and its very existence has served as a threat for generations of Texan school children who taunted each other about being sent to Huntsville for bad behavior.

Being a Midwestern girl from Michigan, Huntsville was not a place that I ever expected to see--especially not from the inside. That all changed in early 2004, when I found myself on a plane with a colleague and two Michigan State Police troopers. We were headed to Huntsville to attempt to interview serial murderer Coral Eugene Watts (right) prior to making a charging decision on a cold case. He was suspected of committing that crime in Michigan in 1979. The reason we were reviewing the cold case is a long and fascinating story (watch for it to be covered in a future post).

Arriving in Texas, I quickly learned that Huntsville is a town with six separate prisons within the city limits and near the actual town. Our intended destination was Ellis Unit One, on the outskirts. Ellis Unit One is a maximum security facility where the average prisoner's sentence exceeds 40 years. The prison, which houses up to 2,400 male prisoners, was the site of Texas Death Row until shortly after a major escape attempt in 1999. Even before the escape attempt, prison officials were busy relocating Death Row to the Polunsky Unit in West Livingston, Texas. After the escape attempt, officials sped up the move, completing it in 2000. The Death Row transfer, performed under heavy security, was the largest transfer of condemned prisoners in history.

While it may have lost Death Row, Ellis Unit One has lost none of its formidable cachet. A foreboding view on the horizon as one travels the field-lined road leading up to the prison, Ellis Unit One makes its presence known, even from a distance. As I saw the building looming up ahead, the stark reality that I was soon entering those walls sunk in. The thought was disquieting, to say the least.

After parking in a public parking lot, we walked to a gate and flashed credentials up to guards in a sentry tower (pictured above), standing watch heavily armed. The guards had been advised of our anticipated arrival, and we were accompanied by a high-ranking representative with the Texas Department of Criminal Justice, so we were buzzed through the gates quickly and allowed to start toward the prison facility itself. Inside the doors we had to sign a log, turn in personal effects, and put on identification badges handed to us through a window in the foyer area. We were then allowed to proceed through multiple sets of doors that clanged shut behind us with an eerie sound of finality.

This was a first for me. I've been in various jails plenty of times before to interview witnesses, but this was a prison; different--and not in a comfortable way. Even accompanied by two police officers, a male colleague and the corrections official, I was still uneasy and ready to get down to business as quickly as possible so we could get out as quickly as possible.

Prison officials had cleared room for us in a small office used for storage. My fellow assistant attorney general and I hunkered down there while the two troopers were taken and seated in a small adjacent conference room, where the interview was set to take place. Prison officials had set up hidden cameras in the conference room, transmitting back to a television set in our makeshift office. That let us watch as the interview  it took place.

While we waited for guards to transport Watts to area, I needed to use the restroom. I was directed to a bathroom in the infirmary, requiring a journey through several halls. As I headed there alone, I cautiously eyed the trustee inmates working openly and seemingly on their own in the hallways just steps from me. I found myself moving quickly, eager to return to the relative security of my office sanctuary. I would have been moving even faster had I known then that another of the Huntsville prisons had once been the site of a seige by three armed prisoners who took multiple hostages using weapons smuggled inside in a ham and  canned peaches. When the siege ended eleven days later, two of the armed gunmen and two civilian hostages -- a teacher and a librarian -- were dead.

There was a bit of levity during the wait for Watts once I got back to the storeroom. My colleague had pulled aside the shade on small window in the corner of the room and was peering outside. He announced there were a couple hundred naked men right outside the window. Certain that he was trying to get my goat and make me even more uncomfortable than I already was, I said, "Sure there are," as I bounded over to the window and pulled aside the shade. I got an eyeful. There were indeed some hundred-plus naked men standing directly outside the window hosing down after coming in from the fields, where they raise crops for the prison. In my haste to close the shade, I tripped over a box while my colleague laughed hysterically, saying "I told you so." To think I thought I was uncomfortable before that.

The interview with Watts was cordial but provided no answers. He played cat and mouse with the troopers for a couple of hours before announcing that he wanted to end the interview and be led away. I breathed a sigh of relief as we passed through the barbed wire fence. We were done--or so I thought. We gave it our best shot but were still going to charge the case even without a statement from Watts.

As it turned out, we weren't quite done yet. While enjoying a relaxing late lunch at a genuine Texas BBQ joint, we received a call from the warden. Watts had decided he wanted to talk. We hightailed it back to the prison and went through the same complicated entrance procedure. With insufficient time to reassemble the camera setup, my colleague and I waited and paced in the infirmary while the troopers went back into the conference room to reinterview Watts. It was all for naught. In true serial murderer style, he again toyed with the officers. After an hour or so, we left with no more information than the first time around.

When I say I've done my time in Huntsville, it means something different than it does for most. Nonetheless, it was more than enough time for me. As many who are finally let out those exit doors surely say: "I'm not going back."

Last night I dreamed that I woke up with straps across my chest
And something cold and black pullin' through my lungs
‘N even Jesus couldn't save me though I know he did his best
But he don't live on Ellis Unit One
--Steve Earle, "Ellis Unit One"

Statements made in this post are my own and are not intended to reflect the views, thoughts or position of the Michigan Attorney General or the Michigan Department of Attorney General.

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The Value of Advocacy and Journalism

by Robin Sax

When it's used in relation to crime, the word “media” is often paired with such words as “sensation,” “frenzy," or even “tabloid media.” In the world of crime, getting “media” is a concept loaded with surprisingly negative connotations. Rarely do people acknowledge as beneficial the media's role in  justice and advocacy.

Why do some cases draw media attention and others fall by the wayside? For example, why was the case of Amber Dubois highlighted less than that of Chelsea King (both were missing/murdered teens in San Diego)? Or why did Natalee Holloway and Jon Benet Ramsey make constant headlines while the names of Mitrice Richardson and Mickey Guidry barely registered? We can certainly draw our own conclusions about these questions from politics, timing, socio-economics or just basic psychology.

But sometimes, it's to the media that we owe thanks for spotlighting an issue, a cause, or a case that needs some attention.

A particular case near and dear to my heart is the most recent involving John Mark Karr (also known as Alexis Valoran Reich). The name John Mark Karr may sound familiar to you already. Karr falsely confessed to the 1996 killing of child beauty queen Jon Benet Ramsey.   Diane Dimond’s article of May 10, 2010, “Help Stop this Man,” shows the true value of investigative journalism, as well as the power of using one’s voice to make change and seek justice. John Mark Karr, also known as Daxis, is now transgendered and assuming the name Alexis Valoran Reich (yes, as in the Third Reich!). He is reportedly living in a woman's homeless shelter in Seattle and seeking a teaching or nanny job. And he has a new victim.

On her site, Dimond shares her opinions, praise or criticism on urgent stories. As she says, she “holds a mirror up to our society and asks you to form your own opinion. It’s a complicated world out there, full of situations of good versus evil, right versus wrong. My job is point them out.” But this time she took it to another level. She wrote on  May 10: “Today I want to ignite a nationwide manhunt. John Mark Karry has got to be located and stopped!”

John Mark Karr is a very dangerous man today. He is currently on the loose and must be found. See wanted poster. Karr is the worst kind of crazy imaginable. He has convinced not only the public but also many law enforcement officials that he is merely delusional -- but I think that is calculated behavior on his part. This makes him especially dangerous. Karr is beyond a skilled manipulator. He has a Manson-esque personality and has been known to say he wants to be like Manson.

Samanthia Spiegel, a 19-year-old college student, was involved with Karr for a time and decided she wants nothing to do with him. Now he is threatening her, and she has had enough. The constant and controlling telephone calls and e-mail chats with Karr have driven her to file a restraining order in San Francisco. In the police report, she alleges Karr has threatened her life multiple times and continuously boasts of sexually exploiting children. Spiegel told police she is worried because over time she has revealed to Karr where she lives, what kind of car she drives and where she goes to school.

Karr has a group of cultish followers around the country who will do anything he asks. “I’m afraid they will come after me or anyone I’m immediately associated with,” Spiegel wrote on the last page of the restraining order request. She also lists her elderly parents as among those in need of protection.

We need to make sure we separate the history of the Jon Benet Ramsey case from what Karr is doing today with Samantha Speigel (and who knows who else!). We must find him and assess his current behavior and the evidence against him. Karr himself asserts that he is a pedophile. He clearly has made many threats that warrant our concern.

And I am not alone in these feelings – as evidenced by this is comment on Diane Dimond’s blog:

This John Karr story is the best and most important story you have done in the 2 decades I have known you. As a father, this story scares the hell out of me. As a man and a human being, it appalls me. You have, again, exposed an urgent, pressing story that needs the attention of the police, the authorities, and the media. Your reporting provides a valuable service, and it seems at times that you are doing God’s work. Thank you, Jerry

Let's all prove the value of journalism by helping to advocate for Samantha Spiegel’s safety and locate John Mark Karr. More information online at http://alexisvaloranreich.com/

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The China Syndrome

by Lisa R. Cohen

Over the last six weeks, a spate of horrific crimes, mostly against children, have stunned the Chinese public, cast a pall over schoolrooms there, and opened the window a sliver onto the disparities between crime - and punishment - between our two cultures.

To begin with, violent crime is rare in China. Also, none of these incidents involved the American weapon of choice - a gun. Few Chinese own guns, and instead the rampages were committed by knife- or hammer-wielding madmen.

The crime spree began on March 23rd, when eight children were stabbed to death while waiting to go inside their school in the southeastern province of Fujian. Four died immediately, four more in the hospital. They were mostly first graders. The mother above left grieved for her murdered child.

Just three weeks later, a man brandished a meat cleaver at children and bystanders outside another school, this time in southern Guangxi province. He hacked to death a student and an elderly woman, and injured five others, chasing his victims through their village before being detained by police.

Then, in the space of ONE WEEK, three more incidents seemed to turn the attacks into a sociological phenomenon. In the first, the killer entered the school itself, and stabbed an astounding 17 children, along with a teacher, as the assailant bolted from room to room. The very next day, another knife wielding attacker slashed his way past a school security guard and two teachers to injure 28 children, five of them critically.

But amazingly, that wasn't the worst of it. Less than 24 hours later, a crazed man also walked into a school, also with an 8 inch blade, evaded the elderly porter at the front door, barricaded himself inside a ground floor first grade classroom, and turned on the class of 37 students.

Only seven of the children were left unharmed. Government officials didn't report any deaths, but bystanders said otherwise, citing at least four of them. They described scenes of gore and carnage that will haunt them forever.

And finally, this past weekend, a man stabbed eight more people to death, including his mother, wife, and daughter. This one wasn't school related, but the knife wielding slasher image is all too vividly imprinted here as well.

They say that guns are so much worse than other weapons because they so neatly and easily dispatch their victims. When you lose your temper with a loaded gun in your hand, you don't have time to calm down in the split second between the pull of the trigger and the bullet leaving the chamber. But there's something about the gore of knife violence, the insanity that must be in play for someone to swing a blade around, to get that close to other humans in order to inflict your damage. Especially such young ones.

The victims' tender years are an especial affront to the Chinese public. The government's official 'one child' policy means a society where parents who lose a child...lose their whole family.

What is going on??? According to news reports out of China, including one by fellow journalist and friend Barbara Demick, the LA Times Beijing bureau chief, China's social structures are also under attack. Chinese internet forums are jammed with opinions. The assailants were an unemployed teacher, an unemployed health professional, an unemployed insurance salesman. You get the pattern. Two of the schools were known for catering to wealthy and privileged parents.

"We should think about these cases from a deeper side," read one post. "The voices of weak people were ignored, and then they took revenge on society."

Such critics posit that Chinese society has changed so fast, traditional infrastructure is collapsing, giving way to commercial free-fall. One Chinese newspaper featured an online poll citing that 64% of respondents believed the first attack, the one that started the series, was due to social inequalities - "the widening gap between rich and poor in China." In a (very expedient) trial, the assailant, Zheng Minsheng (he's the unemployed health professional), said he was angry after being jilted by a wealthier woman.

And that's another big difference between our two cultures. Zheng's trial disposed of, he was too, executed on April 28th, a little over a month after the attack took place, just a few days after the death sentence was approved by the People's Supreme Court. One month from the crime to the punishment. In this country, Mr. Zheng wouldn't have gotten much past an arraignment.

Will such swift justice deter the next in this crime wave? Maybe, but the two most recent acts of carnage occurred after Zheng was put to death, so it's doubtful. Some in China fear their culture will have to take more far reaching, global steps to curb the violence. For future generations.

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My Kind of Prosecutor

by Diane Fanning


How do you decide which true crime book to read?  There are a number of reasons I make those decisions.  Sometimes, I am familiar with the case and want to know more.  Other times, it is because of an author whose work I respect and enjoy reading.  And then, there are times, I must admit, when I judge the book by its cover.

But recently, I found a whole new reason to select a particular true crime book.  I ended up holding Afraid of the Dark, by Tom Henderson, in my hand for a much more personal reason.  I don't know Tom, and I'd never read one of his books.

It started in my doctor's office.  During this follow-up visit, my doctor, Ronald Cohle, asked about my latest books and what I had in the works.  Then, to my amazement, he revealed something he'd never mentioned in the last sixteen years: his brother, Stephen Cohle (below right), is a medical examiner in Michigan.  He also said that Stephen had recently been on television and mentioned in a book.  He couldn't, however, remember which television show or the title or author of the book.

It didn't take long, though, for me to track down Afraid of the Dark, a true crime book about Florence and Mark Unger (above left).  When Henderson described the boathouse where Florence died, it sounded familiar.  I flipped to the photo section and there it was.  It all rushed into focus -- I remembered learning about that case on Dateline NBC.  Now, I really wanted to know more.

Then, what to my wondering eyes should appear in the pages of that book but prosecutor and Women in Crime Ink contributor Donna Pendergast.  I flashed back to the television show and recalled how impressed I'd been watching her in action in the clips on Dateline NBC.

The book added far more depth than an hour-long show could hope to offer.  It gave a glimpse into the complexities of two people whose marriage with children disintegrated into a melodrama of misery and murder.

It all came to an end on the morning of October 25, 2003, when Florence's body was found floating in the shallows of Lower Herring Lake at Watervale Inn, a northern Michigan resort.  Her husband, Mark Unger, claimed that on the previous night, he left her alone on a deck atop the boathouse to check on their boys.  He said that when he returned fifteen minutes later, she was gone.  He thought that she went to the cabin of friends to socialize.

The next morning, when her lifeless body was discovered, he surmised that Florence must have tripped, hit her head and fallen into the water where she drowned.


But prosecutors and law enforcement had another theory.  They believed Mark had knocked his wife off of the boathouse, causing a severe injury to her head when she hit the concrete slab twelve feet below.  Then, to cover up the assault, they suspected he pushed her into the water, bleeding but alive.

 

Mark was charged with first degree murder in May 2004.  The investigation uncovered financial problems, a divorce filing, an extramarital affair, an addiction to Vicodin and a looming custody battle over the Ungers' two young boys.  They also discovered many pieces of forensic evidence that were inconsistent with the tale told by Mark.

His trial began on May 3, 2006.  It was the 93rd murder trial for Donna Pendergast, (right). She and her assisting counsel, Mark Bilkovic and John Skrzynski, presented a thorough and convincing case from beginning to end.  But one piece of evidence stood out to me -- something emotionally compelling.  Florence Unger was extremely terrified of the dark and had been all of her life.  There was no way she would have sat alone on top of that boathouse in the pitch-blackness of a rural night.  Mark's whole story was a lie.

Still, the case was all circumstantial, and a battle of experts made the forensic evidence complicated.  Reading the book, you are not sure of the verdict until the end.

One thing, though, is obvious throughout: Pendergast is a formidable prosecutor.  The Detroit Free Press ran a profile of her with the headline: "Born to Prosecute,"  noting that her father was a 40-year veteran police officer. In the article, Swickard wrote: "Defendants can hear a cell door's cold clank when she enters the courtroom."

My advice to anyone contemplating murder: steer clear of Pendergast's territory. She obtained her first murder conviction in 1989 and hasn’t stopped yet. Donna Pendergast has a passion for justice; a tireless persistence to seek it, no matter how long it takes; a steely determination to achieve the right outcome in every single case; and a win rate in murder trials to prove it.

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Two New Stacy Dittrich Books Hit the Shelves!

NONFICTION
Stumbling along the Beat:
A Policewoman’s Uncensored Story from the World of Law Enforcement

When you’re a cop, you lay your life on the line every day. It’s one of the toughest jobs in the world, and the common belief that women aren’t up to it doesn’t make it any easier. But even as a kid, Stacy Dittrich craved the adrenaline rush of putting bad guys behind bars. When her father and uncles, all police officers, gathered to share their stories, Stacy was in the front row. Riding along in her father’s cruiser with the sirens blaring, she knew she’d found something that could make her feel alive.

There were dark days on the beat, days when Stacy, a detective specializing in sex crimes, could hardly believe the horrors she faced. Parents whose neglect of their own children seemed outright evil. Men and women whose sadistic acts made the world a terrifying place. But for Stacy, getting these depraved criminals off the streets was all that mattered. She was protecting the innocent, doing whatever she could to help them feel safe … until she became a target herself. Terrifyingly, some of the most dangerous people she encountered were her fellow cops. And they would not stop until Stacy gave up—her career, her dreams, and even her life.

But Stacy Dittrich was no victim.

Broken. Bloodied. Stabbed in the back. Stumbling Along the Beat, Stacy Dittrich never knew which one she’d be. But the desire for danger was in her blood—and the hunt for justice was all that mattered to her. This is her brutally honest, true story of survival on the streets.

Stacy Dittrich’s father, retired police lieutenant Joseph Wendling, wrote the foreword for this book. The book's already grabbed the attention of a few people we’ve heard of.

“Humorous and shocking, Stacy Dittrich’s account of life as a female police officer and growing up in a law enforcement family will undoubtedly grab your attention. A fascinating read!”
--Ray Liotta, award-winning actor and star of Goodfellas and Cop Land.

 

FICTION
In The Body Mafia, the third book in Stacy Dittrich’s intense CeeCee Gallagher thriller series, CeeCee risks her life to uncover a ring of Mafia killers who murder people to sell their body parts on the black market. When the bodies of local homeless men begin turning up missing major organs, Detective CeeCee Gallagher is hot on the trail of the perpetrators. Only after her husband, FBI Agent Michael Hagerman, is the target of a car bomb, does CeeCee realize what she’s really dealing with. This is no mere madman. These killers are organized—and more dangerous than any CeeCee’s seen before.

Both of Stacy Dittrich's new books are available in bookstores and online now. She'll be signing STUMBLING ALONG THE BEAT and THE BODY MAFIA on Saturday, May 8th, at Barnes and Noble, Mansfield, Ohio from 5pm-7pm.

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Okay, Girls, Time to Listen Up!

by Kathryn Casey

They're not knights in shining armor. Their fervor isn't building because they love and want to protect you. I don't care if you met them in a bar, in church or on a college campus. The first time he lifts a fist toward you, when he issues his first threat, or his behavior verges on stalking, get help. Don't explain it away. Don't think you can change him. Tell those in charge, expose him for what he is, do what you have to do to stay safe, and get him the hell out of your life.

In fact, it's a good thing to stand your ground from the start. Take your time. Don't get invested in a guy too early. Wait on falling head over heels and starting a sexual relationship with a guy, until you know what type of person his is, including how he handles conflict. Do your best to make sure he's one of the good guys before you become romantically entangled.

There are almost always signs that a jerk's not a keeper. There are indications that the situation is spiraling out of control. Listen to your instincts. Those little hairs standing up on the back of your neck when you think about what he's capable of, they're telling you something. The goosebumps on your arms might not be from attraction but fear. Watch for the signs, keep your eyes open, and if you see indications that the guy has violence, rage, sex and love mixed-up, get out!

George Huguely, the University of Virginia lacrosse player now charged with murdering his girlfriend, another student athlete, Yeardley Love, apparently gave off those warning signals. News reports tell of prior altercations, including one with a woman police officer during which he yelled racial and sexual slurs. That run-in with the law resulted in probation. Huguely is, his friends say, a mean drunk. Yeardley must have known that; they were dating. Why didn't she alert authorities when he sent her threatening text messages? Am I blaming the victim? No. The villain here isn't Love; it's Huguely. But we as women need to be proactive. We need to do what we can to protect ourselves.

Love had options she apparently didn't take. Perhaps she thought she'd hang in there until May 23, when she and the man she was trying to wrench out of her life would each graduate and move in separate directions. Perhaps she'd talked him out of his rampages before and thought she could control him. Perhaps Love believed that, despite his threats, Huguely would never truly hurt her.

I understand that hindsight is 20/20, but Yeardley needed to take action, to get safe. She needed to understand who George Huguely is and that he had no place in her life.

If Yeardly Love didn't think she had to report Huguely's actions for her own protection, she should have done it for the women who would come after her, the ones who'd cross his path in the future. At the very least, Love needed to think: Okay. I'll get through this. But maybe he'll do it again, moving on to other victims. I need to make sure this guy has a track record, so others will be forewarned who they're dealing with.

Instead of filing for a restraining order, notifying police, at least attempting to move out of the line of fire, Yeardley was at home when Huguely says he broke down her door and attacked.

Do some women die every year at the hands of a partner even after notifying authorities and taking action? Sure. We all know that's true. The most dangerous time for a woman is when she's attempting to separate from a violent partner. It's true that there's only so much we can do to ensure our own safety, but we do have options: make reports, file complaints, get a restraining order, in this case, notify the campus police and administrators, tell your parents. Perhaps it would have been arranged for Huguely to leave the campus early, do his finals from home. Or maybe Love could have left early, returning to her home in Maryland, giving her the advantage of physical distance. Do we know for sure that any of these options would have saved Yeardley's life? No. But they could have.

So, please, don't believe you can change these guys. Don't delude yourself into thinking you owe them anything. When violence or threats of violence enter a relationship, all bets are off. Your main goal, your top priority, is safety. Get him out of your life and move on. And do everything you can to let others know who this guy is, so that when the next woman files a report, the investigating officer sees that your ex-boyfriend or ex-husband has a history of violence. At least then there's the potential that the new girlfriend's fears will be taken seriously.

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What are Prisons Really For?

By Women in Crime Ink

 We've asked our contributors a few questions about the prison system. What is its purpose -- punishment, rehabilitation, or separating criminals from society? Is the system accomplishing that purpose? If the purpose is keeping criminals apart from the rest of society, are there alternatives besides incarceration in prison cells? 

Kathryn Casey:
It depends on the case. For those with life without parole, prisons are nothing more than a holding area, some more humane than others, where dangerous folks are segregated to keep society as a whole safer for the rest of us. For those who might someday get out, prison is primarily punishment, but it does offer, for those who reach out for it, a chance for rehabilitation.

Most of the prisons I've visited, and I've been in plenty down here in Texas, offer literacy and GED programs. Illiteracy is incredibly high behind bars. Yet I remember years ago meeting a convicted murderer who finished high school, got a bachelor's and a master's degree while serving a 60-year sentence. When I talked to him, he was working on a Ph.D. through a correspondence course. An inmate has to seek out the opportunities, and few do. For most offenders, the time in prison is simply punishment and wasted years.

One of the disappointing things is that there's so little treatment for sex offenders and violent criminals in prisons. Most aren't given any treatment at all until shortly before release, despite studies that show these types of ex-cons have high recidivism rates and require years of therapy, if there's any hope at all of preventing future crimes.

Donna Pendergast:

 The prison system aspires to rehabilitate offenders, but it isn't the purpose of the system -- only a goal.

The purpose of prison is to isolate offenders from society to protect the public and to punish offenders.  Unfortunately, although prison may not be a preferred experience, the amenities offered to offenders sometimes strain the bounds of belief. Libraries more extensive than in a prosecutor's office, large screen TVs, and well-equipped work out areas are standard fare at most prisons.  These privileges should be earned, not mandated.  I am not at all for any kind of abusive treatment of prisoners, but the prison experience should not be a posh one. That's why I am such a fan of Sheriff Joe Arpaio, whom I have posted on before.  Although he presides over a county jail rather than a prison, he makes sure that it is not a pleasant experience.  His standard retort to complaining prisoners is "If you don't like it, don't come back.

Katherine Scardino:

Jurors want revenge for a really heinous crime.  A kidnapping, rape or any crime involving a child induces immediate wrath on the defendant.  There is no discussion of rehabilitation.  I truly believe that a juror couldn't care less whether the prison system allows for counseling, education or any other individual assistance. The only issue is "how much does it cost?"  Your question: "why do we have a prison?"  It is, as Kathryn said, a "house" for people who have violated our laws. In capital cases, there are serious problems relating to sensory deprivation, where humans are kept in a box 23 out of 24 hours a day, and fed through a hole in the door.  This is inhuman and more than punishment. But, we say, they deserve this. These people hurt my family, my society, and should not be allowed to join the rest of us. No one disagrees with it. But prison should be more than a holding cell. Prison should be a place where bad people have an opportunity to learn about being better and returning to society as different people -- instead of learning how to be worse than they were when they entered the prison system. This does not help any of us.

Andrea Campbell:

Just as there are different camps on most major issues of any importance, there will always be disagreement on why offenders should be punished, how offenders should be punished, and what constitutes punishment. The common dictionary says quite generally that punishment is loss, severe treatment or suffering. Our prison systems are based on the concept that corrections serve these functions:  1) retribution, 2) deterrence, 3) incapacitation, and 4) rehabilitation. I think we also need to consider two other functions are enumerated: reintegration, and control.

But what about retribution for the victims? This system dictates that the severity of the offense should match the level of incarceration. If some petty, non-violent crook gets nicked, he might be able to do his time at an “honor farm.” Likewise, if a man has been convicted as a murderer, maximum security is probably what he’s earned. This methodology even weighs the type of probation on the same scale. In the aftermath, the probationary attention to follow-up and detail befits the crime similarly. Citizens should like this system, because they feel it shows the moral imperative of “getting tough on crime.” We might think about a new, modern Justice Model of punishment.

Like a “Just Desserts” concept,  it rejects the notion of rehabilitation as key and aims to avoid sentencing disparities. It seeks to match the punishment to the crime with room for variation, with a major difference up-front: To do a re-evaluation of the offender's past record. Then it would institute the type of justice a particular community wants reflected onto the behavior of its citizens. The foundation for the policy is that everyone is responsible for his/her own actions; that rational thought brought them to this end; that the criminal should bear the blame for his/her acts; and that the public needs protection and should be able to legislate punishment according to proscribed dicta of constitutional severity. As far as corrections, I think prisons should be privatized.

Pat Brown:

I think we have to look at two types of prisoners: those who can be rehabilitated and deserving of rehabilitation, and those who can't be rehabilitated nor deserving of rehabilitation. The latter are excessively violent repeat offenders, violent sexual predators and serial killers. Therapy does not "cure" arrogant psychopaths lacking in remorse or empathy; they will always be a danger to society, and they deserve no sympathy from us. Put them away and keep them away. Furthermore, we shouldn't be wasting taxpayer money allowing them to amuse themselves studying and getting degrees while their victims are rotting in the grave or living lives or psychological, physical or economic poverty.

The former group can be divided into two subgroups: those who are willing to be rehabilitated and those who are not. Prisoners should earn their right to favors by the society they have abused and when they earn that consideration by good behavior and hard work, then they can be moved to a rehabilitation facility where they can earn an income and pay for their education and vocational training like citizens do on the outside.

Lisa Cohen:

This topic resonates particularly for me. For most of the last five years, I researched and wrote a book (AFTER ETAN: The Missing Child Case That Held America Captive) about the long, horrific “career” of Jose Ramos, a serial pedophile who damaged countless helpless children in the '70s and '80s (including Down's Syndrome and mentally challenged boys). He was finally locked away from any future victims in 1986 and has served the last 25 years in prison.  A generation of children have been safe from him. But in 2011, he’ll max out and will walk free unless someone can figure out a way to stop him. He’s never completed a sex offender program and has never taken responsibility for the worst of his crimes.

The father of Etan Patz, the boy Ramos almost certainly kidnapped, raped and killed, has said Ramos should never be released from prison.  “He’s a predator,” Stan Patz told me,  as well as a 60 Minutes audience, “and he should never be allowed near children again. He should be kept behind bars until he’s too old to walk.” His is a compelling argument.

But for the last year, I’ve been involved in a very different project, albeit on a related topic. "ONE LAST SHOT: A Story of Redemption," is an ongoing documentary I’ve been directing. It tells the story of inmates at maximum security Angola Prison, home to Louisiana’s Death Row and some of the most hardened criminals you will ever meet. Half of them are killers; 85 percent will die at Angola. The particular inmates I’m focusing on staff a hospice at the prison, where they help dying fellow inmates to a humane death, something most of them cheated their own victims out of.

I’ve now spent time with several of these men. Many committed their crimes decades ago. So did Jose Ramos.  They are soft-spoken and articulate. So was Jose Ramos whenever I talked to him.

But I watch as these hospice volunteers clearly care about their dying patients. They feed them, clean them, comfort them.  Sometimes they change their diapers.  They watch them slowly waste away and eventually die, holding their hands as they slip away.  They treat each other and their hospice colleagues with respect.  They speak eloquently of developing compassion, of nurturing their humanity. They say they seek redemption.

They seem different than Jose Ramos, and they want to send that message via this documentary. As I continue to film, I hope to learn for myself whether that is true.  If so, then programs like prison hospice, inmate counseling, religious rehabilitation, are worthwhile and need to be promoted.  I’ve heard over and over while at Angola the credo: “A man’s entire life should not be judged by his worst act.”  

Cathy Scott:

I'll quote my friend Kevin Powell, an author and a Brooklynite through and through who cares about his rundown community and is running for a seat in U.S. Congress.

One leg of his campaign platform is "rid the 'hood of crime and pollution." He says that includes redirecting imprisonment dollars into education and enhancing "alternative strategies to lower incarceration rates." He also calls for abolishing the death penalty. "These actions," he says, "will reduce the rates of recidivism while creating opportunities for success." As the late Chief Justice Warren Earl Burger once said in his "Factories with Fences" speech, "We need prison reforms that will encourage offenders to earn and learn their way to freedom." I'm with Powell and Burger. Change is needed, and giving inmates the tools they need is paramount for them to live as non-offenders and contributing members of society outside the prison walls.

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