Being a true crime author I am a huge fan of A&E’s LivePD Things I learned watching Live PD I figured since everyone is forced to sit and watch TV this weekend, I would provide you a fun little game to add to your viewing pleasure.
Just like regular Bingo, you want to get five across. The first one that does, wins. I’m providing four game boards, but you can easily make your own. You can come up with your own prizes, be it shots or cookies — whatever floats your boat. Simply print and cut these out, use pennies, beans, pickles, or whatever to mark your progress. Good luck!
Feel free to share this and have some fun watching Live PD while stuck in your house!
Okay, this isn’t your typical true crime series – there is only one dead body. This is about the greatest scam in modern times. It covers the crimes tied to McDonalds’ Monopoly game and that for years, the game was 100% rigged.
You didn’t know? I remember bits and pieces of this story, but I never knew the entire story. A friend turned me onto this HBO series and my wife and I got hooked. The FBI agent who started the ball rolling made it for me. I wish everyone in the FBI was a gung ho as this guy. The undercover sting videos were wonderful!
The series begins with a simple tip – that the McDonald’s games are all rigged by someone called “Uncle Jerry.” It turns out to be much bigger than that. The mob is involved, as well as multiple Jerry’s. There’s a questionable death, shady characters, and some remarkably bizarre twists. The spider web of winners and middlemen in all of this is incredible.
You are left, until the last episode, not knowing just how the pieces got stolen and switched out – or who the informant was. We were shocked on the last episode, which means the producers did it right.
Some of the winners try desperately to paint themselves as victims which I disliked. All but one, in my opinion, knew exactly what they were doing as part of this criminal conspiracy. They paid money to middlemen for the winning tickets. They knew the game was rigged and were cheating not just McDonalds but everyone who played and thought they had a chance of winning.
We were riveted to each episode, so the pacing is good. I think if you tune into this you will not be disappointed. It is a top-notch true crime production. You’re stuck in the house anyway, so use your social distancing time appropriately and watch this series.
Of all of the suspects in the Washington DC serial killings attributed to the Freeway Phantom, none stand out more than Robert Ellwood Askins. Episode six is dedicated to him and can be accessed via iTune (search for Tantamount) or via the link below:
Obviously I encourage you to follow our podcast and to share it with your friends.
It was hard to find a photograph of Askins after all of these years. We did track down a lineup photo of him:
Askins was involved with multiple murders in his life, but only convicted of one – and that one, the poisoning of Ruth McDonald, was overturned on a technicality. He spent most of his early life locked up at St. Elizabeth’s Hospital in Washington DC. That is important in a future episode of the podcast.
Askins died in prison, but we were able to get copies of most of his prison records via a FOIA request. It includes his psychiatric evaluations. I have included a few for those of you who want to dive into the nitty-gritty work of a true crime author.
Okay, this is an older book but I just got around to reading it. Thomas Thompson did a masterful job of taking me down roads with so many twists and turns that I was unsure of where I was going to end up. Just when I thought I was on top of what was happening, I was blindsided with a surprise twist.
Set in the 1960’s, this begins with the murder of Joan Robinson Hill. Adopted child of a rich Houston oil and land tycoon, you are drawn into the story of Ash Robinson, her father, and of her husband, Dr. John Hill. Honestly, I can’t tell you much more beyond this without ruining the book. Suffice it to say, halfway through the book, I was stunned with a twist that Hollywood could not have conceived.
Thompson takes us into the lives of unsavory assassins, prostitutes, the rich, and the demented. It is an American story of power, justice, justice-denied, and startling bravery. I came away drained, knowing more about Houston of the 1960’s than I could have imagined – a mix of Peyton Place and the TV show Dallas.
This book has easily become one of my favorite true crime books and sets a bar in terms of investigative journalism. I was enthralled with the book, but it took a long time to get there. This book is a journey and one that is well-worth the trip. Easily five-out-of-five stars for me.
People ask why I write about cold cases. The last few weeks brought the issue to the forefront and I thought I’d share.
In the last few weeks I have had two tips come in on two different serial murder cases I have written about. I get tips at least monthly, if not more often. They seem to come in batches, which begs some sort of scientific study. When I get tips I pass them onto the authorities. I do this because I’m not one of the Scooby Doo Gang out solving mysteries. The crimes get solved and go to trial when the authorities do their job and investigate.
I don’t share names or even what the tips are with the public so please, don’t ask. Again, that’s for the investigators to do. You have to remember that with some of these tips, people feel their lives might be in danger. They may be right, it is difficult to say. While most of the cases my daughter and I write about are old, that doesn’t mean that the killer(s) want it resolved. I protect my sources, but at the same time, if you call me, I will pass on the info to the police.
One tip, I finally heard from, was a dead end. It is pretty rare that the authorities tell me if it is a good tip or a dud. It was very nice that they followed up with me. I think for the person that reached out to me, and her family, it was welcome news.
The other person with a tip not only contacted me but the authorities and it sounded promising…very promising. Time will tell.
Someone asked if I ever felt I was putting my life at risk. The short answer is yes. I am sure that most murderers don’t want attention drawn to their cases…and that’s what we do as writers. My daughter/co-author and I do take photos of the crowds at our speaking events because there’s a chance that the killer is sitting in the audience. I’ve even shared some with law enforcement, because you never know… I have had one person we outted as a suspect show up at a book signing once, though he didn’t have the nerve to come up to us and confront us. I recently had someone threaten me over the phone.
Remember though, we tend to write about crimes from the 1960’s-1980’s. That means that a 25+ year old killer then would be in his 60’s now. So while there are times I am reminded that I could be in danger, I am picturing someone trying to chase me down driving a Rascal or with a walker.
There have been times when cars have parked in front of our house for hours at a time, only to speed off when I approach them. There have also been some plain white-panel vans with government plates that have parked out there…so I presume the good guys are nearby.
People that cover true crime; authors, podcasters, bloggers, reporters, we all take a calculated risk when we start poking into cases. It’s not glamorous by a long shot. Still, we do it because we can help the authorities with new tips and leads that might lead to a conviction.
This is one of those stories that resonated with me as a true crime writer because I’ve seen it with my own eyes on a case. More on that later.
The Confession Killer is the story of Henry Lee Lucas, a man that confessed to upwards of 300 (or more) murders in the 1980’s. He was a killer. He had murdered his mother and spent time in prison for that crime. Early on in his confessions, he led authorities to the remains of two victims…only their killer could have done that.
The local sheriff and the Texas Rangers had a person in Lucas who was willing to confess to countless crimes, all for a strawberry shake and some cigarettes. He provided details that only the killers could know, or so it seemed. Police from all over the country lined up for 20 minute sessions with Lucas where he would confess to crimes in their jurisdictions and allow them to close the cases. It gave dozens of families closure finally.
Lucas loved the attention and the limelight. He basked in it. For one time in his life, he had importance.
Then a dogged reporter started actually digging into Lucas and discovered proof that with many of his confessions, Lucas was not able to have committed the crimes – he was in other parts of the country. The local sheriff and the Rangers ignored the evidence. I have to say, at first, I thought that the reporter was the real hero of this true crime saga.
If this had been the crux of the story, it would have been a very good documentary. But wait, there’s more!
A young and determined Waco prosecutor spotted the same errors and opened a grand jury investigation into the Lucas task force. The Rangers, the FBI, and the IRS were brought to bear on him, framing him for bribery. Lucas’s information disappeared from law enforcement computers. A massive cover-up was eventually exposed, complete with law enforcement manipulating the media to go after the prosecutor.
So how did he do it? Officers fed him information, led him to crime scenes, gave him photographs of crime scenes and pictures of the victims. Lucas had an uncanny ability to read his audience and give them what they wanted, confessions. They were able to overlook errors he made, or they even corrected him when he made mistakes.
Henry Lee Lucas played them like a cheap fiddle.
As a sidebar: My daughter and I witnessed this ourselves when writing The Murder of Maggie Hume. Michael Ronning had confessed to her murder but it was, most likely a false confession. We watched videos of them taking Ronning to crime scenes and it was eerily similar to what Lucas did. When officers took him out to another murder site that he claimed credit for (Patricia Rosansky) along the river, Ronning didn’t point out the area where they should turn off. One officer we heard on the tape said, “Michael, doesn’t that area over there look familiar to you?” as he pointed to it. Another officer off camera can be heard saying, “Damn it Denny, why don’t you just get out and show him where the body was?”
There are officers that swear to this day that Ronning’s confessions were solid, despite errors that cannot be overlooked. Why? Because they want Ronning to be a serial killer, they wanted to be the officers that closed cases involving such a murderer. That notoriety, of being involved with a serial killer is like winning the Super Bowl for law enforcement.
Which is how Henry Lee Lucas played authorities.
I really enjoyed this short series by Netflix. A solid five out of five stars, perfect for your winter binge watching needs.
I know this will stun some folks but I don’t watch football. It’s just not my thing. What I knew about this case was limited. New England Patriot’s player Aaron Hernandez, a man at the top of his game professionally, had been convicted of murder then had hanged himself. That was what I knew going into this mini-series on Netflix.
The series is very good and well produced. There’s some hopping around that takes place but they make great use of a timeline to help you keep track of what is happening. What emerges is a very complex story. It is a strange cocktail of sorts to watch. Hernandez apparently, from what was shown, was gay, which may have led to some emotional conflict in his life. He had a drug problem in that he vigorously chain-smoked marijuana. Anyone saying that pot smoking is harmless needs to see it in the context of the person doing the smoking – and in this case, Hernandez lived his later years high. He is portrayed as a young man that had a strained relationship with his mother. Hernandez surrounded himself with horrible people which led to not just one murder, but several. His family members covered up for him, which in the end, only made matters worse.
You get a story that is purely American with some almost neo-gothic twists. The New England Patriots tried to fill a void in his life in terms of discipline, but failed miserably. They knew he was emotionally immature, but he became immersed in a lifestyle that allowed him whatever he wanted. There were no boundaries with him, and that led to a spectacular downfall.
Was he the victim of repeated concussions? Certainly that case is made at the end of the series, but you realize that even with his head trauma, there was something else at play…a lack of moral compass or control. When I was done watching it I felt that his downfall was inevitable and was destined to be spectacular. Hernandez is an American tragedy and one we have not learned from. You are left wondering how many others are out there just like him.
It is notable that his wife and family didn’t take part in the series, nor did the Patriots. So you are left wondering if there was even more to this story that we have yet to see.
Overall, I give this four out of five stars. Good true crime. I’m sure football fans will rate it much higher.