I remember that case well. I was an Oakland Country resident and 12 at the time, so I was the same age as the victims. I remember that someone reported seeing a blue Gremlin in the vicinity of one of the child disappearances, so I kept a sharp eye out for blue Gremlins as I walked to school.
I also remember that my parents, who before that let me run around the neighborhood all day long like a stray cat (as was the parenting style of the time), suddenly cracked down and wouldn’t let me go anywhere by myself. In the colossally selfish way of youth, I remember thinking how unfair to me it was. I think it was only a few weeks before they eased up again, though, and I was free to roam the suburban streets again.
Just wanted to make a correction: the book by Hart is called The Bellamy Trial not The Bellamy Case, which is the name of a different book. In case all these years later someone is looking for it.
Fifteen years ago in West Atlantic City…essentially, a strip of motels along the Black Horse Pike…four women were found dead behind a motel along a salt marsh channel.
Toronto: the Barry and Honey Sherman murders. Billionaire couple is found dead by their swimming pool… by a real-estate agent giving a tour of the house.
Just finished reading this book (thanks for the reco, @Roderick_Femm !). It’s definitely a page turner, but the 1920s language was unnecessarily flowerly and convoluted, so I was turning the pages slower than I expected. Were the “facts” in the novel the same as the real case? Because I’d forgotten this was based on a real case when I started to read it, and it read just like a murder mystery fiction. And I was fooled by the final resolution! I like to be fooled!
I don’t remember, in fact I’m not sure I ever knew. Since I wrote “very loosely based” 2.5 years ago, I’ll guess the facts are not identical. Especially the resolution, since in real life there doesn’t appear to have been one.
I just googled…could have done that before replying, duh…but no, the circumstances were different. Similar enough for the novel, but in the details quite different. No one was ever found guilty. Interestingly, it’s considered to first courtroom murder mystery novel. I liked how it was framed with the growing relationship between the novice “girl” report and the cynical NYC reporter.
In 1983, Louis Hastings murdered six people, or 25%, of the population of McCarthy, Alaska. McCarthy is remote, although it’s accessible by a dirt road. It’s located by the now closed Kennecott Copper Mine, which is a tourist attraction. The small number of permanent residents are generally loners who prefer living off the grid. Hastings had intended to murder all of the residents as part of a bizarre plan to somehow shut down the oil pipeline project. His plan was to hijack a fuel truck and drive it into a pump station, causing it to explode and burn both the station, the truck and himself. By killing all the residents of McCarthy, he felt that nobody would be able to identify his remains.
It all went sideways, of course, and he was apprehended, but not until he murdered two couples and two unmarried men, and wounded some other folks. He was tried and sentenced to 634 years in prison, despite an attempt to plead insanity.
Wow. Among the many travesties of justice: the 8-year gap (2017 to 2025) between the FBI finding a match for the DNA, and the Austin police getting this info to finally resolve it and release the accused.
It reminds me a little of the lack of inter-agency communication in the months leading up to 9-11.