Providentia

Michael Scott and authentic leadership: What we learn about leadership from The Office.

A new study published in the Journal of Leadership Studies examines the actions of Michael Scott, self‐proclaimed “World's Best Boss”, to determine how he communicates leadership on The Office. Using Northouse's (2020) definition of leadership, Scott's behavior is content analyzed to establish his particular message transmission tendencies. Further, given Scott's unique management style, George's (2003) dimensions of authentic leadership are used to code Scott's behavior as Scranton's regional manager. Based on a quantitative coding of shows, two main findings are advanced. First, Scott's leadership prioritizes verbal over nonverbal messages. Second, Scott's approach to leadership emphasizes the authentic dimensions of close relationships, clear purpose, and a caring heart most often with his employees. Scenes from The Office are identified that validate these findings and feature authentic leadership theory in action. Pragmatically, the current research offers trainers, managers, and teachers a resource for educating trainees and students on the role of verbal and nonverbal messages in leadership as well as a tool for developing authentic leadership in others. (PsycInfo Database Record (c) 2022 APA, all rights reserved)

For the abstract

Massacre at Sea

Another story from my recent book, True Crime Stories You Won't Believe: Book Two.

 It must have seemed like a scene out of a horror novel.

When the trading schooner Mary Russell left port out of  Cobh Harbor in Cork, Ireland, on February 8, 1828, it was a routine voyage to Barbados.  Though the harbor master and his crew were surprised to see the ship return on June 25 escorted by another ship, the Mary Stubbs, the pilot still went out to guide the two boats into the Harbor as usual.  After being instructed to board the Mary Stubbs first, the captain of that vessel, Robert Callendar, warned that the Mary Russell had been brought into port by his crew members. There was no immediate sign of the Mary Russell's captain, William Stewart, or his experienced crew, and when the harbor master and his team boarded the ship, they quickly learned why.

In the Mary Russell’s main saloon (another name for ship's lounge) lay the bodies of seven crew members, all of whom had been tied up hand and foot and pinned to the floor.  The men had been killed by vicious blows to the head, and the saloon floor was still sticky from their blood.   Given that the murders had occurred days before, the decomposition of the bodies added to the horror of what the harbor crew saw.   As for Captain Stewart, secured onboard the Mary Stubbs, he freely confessed to killing the seven men he accused of plotting against him.   

The only surviving crew members were four apprentices, an eleven-year-old passenger, and two seriously wounded crew members who had survived the massacre by remaining in hiding until the Mary Stubbs arrived.   Though Captain Callendar had initially believed Stewart's claim that the murders were justified due to mutiny, the testimony of the surviving crew made him reconsider.  Captain Stewart's bizarre speech and behavior quickly demonstrated how deranged he was.   He had even thrown himself overboard at one point though seamen from the Mary Stubbs managed to save him from drowning. 

 News of what had happened on the Mary Russell spread quickly, and families of the dead crew members, most of whom still lived in Cobh Harbor, were devastated at what had happened.  But the hardest hit of all was Captain Stewart's wife, Betsy.  She had been waiting patiently for his return along with their four children (she was also pregnant at the time), only to learn that her husband was now a murderer, not to mention completely insane.  But what could lead a formerly respected sea captain to murder his entire crew?   

Despite the fantastic rumors spreading about the "ship of seven murders" (as the Mary Russell had become known),  the bare facts of the case seemed straightforward enough.  The Mary Russell had set sail from Cobh Harbor in early 1828 to bring a cargo of mules to Barbados.   Along with Captain Stewart was an entire crew, including first and second mate, the ship's carpenter, able-bodied seamen, and three apprentices.  There were also two stable hands to look after the mules and an unaccompanied eleven-year-old passenger named Thomas Hammond.   Given the experienced crew and lack of foreseeable problems, nobody expected anything to go wrong.

As for the boat captain, William Stewart was a God-fearing Protestant and a respected Cobh Harbor nautical community member.  Still, for reasons never made clear, his mental state deteriorated rapidly after the ship left Barbados on May 9 to return to Ireland.  As survivors would later report, Steward had become convinced that his crew was planning to kill him and take over the ship.   Though it was hardly unheard of for crew members to mutiny to steal a ship and turn pirate, a schooner like the Mary Russell seemed like an unlikely choice for that.  Still, Stewart's paranoia became so strong that he decided to protect himself from this non-existent threat.

Knowing he was outnumbered, Stewart hatched a devious plan to eliminate the crew members he assumed were plotting against him.   And so, under the pretext of discussing the voyage, he called each suspected crewmember up to the main saloon. One by one, Stewart would tie and gag them before beating them to death with a crowbar or an ax.  He even shot some of them to death with a harpoon.   As for the apprentices, Stewart simply tied them up as he was not entirely sure of their guilt.   Two other crew members, who had managed to escape the massacre, had been in hiding and likely only survived because of the timely arrival of the Mary Stubbs.  Captain Callendar had spotted the Mary Russell flying the distress signal and had brought in his ship to see if they needed assistance.  

During the coroner's inquest held in Cork on the day after the Mary Russell's return, the jury heard testimony from all the survivors and the witnesses who had first boarded the ship after she returned to Cobh Harbor.   One of the most important of these witnesses was former explorer William Scoresby who later wrote an account of the case.   Scoresby's description of what he had seen on board the ship remains the best-known account of the Mary Russell murders, the coroner's inquest, and the trial that followed.

As for the coroner, Dr. Thomas Sharpe, his testimony regarding what he had seen onboard the ship seemed graphic enough:

There were seven human beings with their sculls so battered that scarcely a vestige of them was left for recognition, with a frightful mess of coagulated blood – all strewed about the cabin, and nearly a hundredweight of cords binding their bodies to strong iron bolts. … Some of the bodies were bound round about six places, and with several coils of rope round their necks.

Based on the evidence and the fact that their primary suspect was too deranged to testify on his behalf, the coroner's jury quickly ruled that Stewart had killed seven men while in a fit of madness. All that would remain was the criminal trial itself.

On August 11, 1828, Captain William Stewart stood trial by an Admiralty Court convened in Cork.   While murder on the high seas was ordinarily a capital crime, the prosecution and Stewart's defense counsel's consensus argued that he was insane.   Based on the judge's recommendation, Stewart was declared "not guilty having committed the act while laboring under mental derangement.”  Under the Criminal Lunatics Act, which was in force at the time, he would be kept "in close confinement during life, or during his Majesty's pleasure."   

After a brief period of imprisonment in the Cork City Gaol, William Stewart was transferred to the Cork Lunatic Asylum.   He was a violent prisoner who often tore his blankets to shreds and incoherently spent much of his time muttering to himself.   During his more lucid periods, he would continue to justify his actions in killing his mutinous crew.  When the Dundrum Asylum for the Criminally Insane opened in 1850,  Stewart became one of the first inmates to be held there.   He died in 1873 after more than four decades as an asylum inmate.  

 As for Cobh Harbor,  there seems virtually no trace of those long-ago murders.   Still, visitors to the Kilmurry Graveyard in Cork can find the tomb of one of Stewart's victims, Timothy Connell, with the haunting inscription:  

You gentle reader that do pass this way/attend a while adhere to what I say/By murder vile was I bereft of life/and parted from two lovely babes and wife/by CAPTAIN STEWART I met an early doom/on board the MARY RUSSELL the 22nd of June/Forced from this world to meet my GOD on high/with whom I hope to reign eternally. Amen/Aged 28 years

5GSS: A framework for 5G-secure-smart healthcare monitoring

Currently, the main challenges of the frameworks for healthcare monitoring are as follows: minimising latency, especially for delay-sensitive diseases such as sudden heart disease; identifying health situation in a timely and accurate manner when correlating physiological indicators and context information; reducing the risk of exposure because health data are highly private. In response to the above, a new paper published in the journal Connection Science proposes a framework for 5G-secure-smart healthcare monitoring (5GSS) to achieve the following goals: fast and accurate identification of context-aware health situation, blockchain-based secure data sharing, and low-latency services for emergent patients. The framework consists of a data acquisition layer, a diagnosis and security layer (edge cloud), and a health service layer. The proposed framework adopts the following key technologies: a 5G-IPv6 communication network, context-aware health situation identification-based similarity measure, and blockchain-based secure data sharing mechanism. Finally, a prototype system has been implemented to monitor hypertensive heart disease, confirming its effectiveness with respect to a real scenario. Combined with the data of 45 patients, the prototype system can identify health situations with an accuracy of 96.34% at a sensitivity of 92.46% and a specificity of 93.62%, while significantly reducing the latency and improving the data sharing security. (PsycInfo Database Record (c) 2022 APA, all rights reserved)

For the abstract

The Boston Sleepwalker

Just thought I'd include this story from my newly released book, True Crime Stories You Won't Believe: Book Two.   Enjoy,

Even for Boston in the 19th century, it was a ruthless murder.

On  October 27, 1845, police were initially called in to investigate several suspicious fires at an upscale "boarding house" (i.e., brothel) in Boston.  After dousing the fires, police, soon discovered the body of a 21-year-old prostitute named Maria Ann Bickford in the room where she lived and worked.  Bickford’s body was nearly decapitated, and her throat cut from ear to ear. From what police could determine, the fires were likely set to conceal the crime, but they still found a man's vest and cane, covered with blood, at the scene. 

Since the landlord insisted that the house was securely locked to prevent intruders from getting in, the police only had one real suspect in the killing.  Albert Tirrell was a twenty-two-year-old paramour of Maria Bickford.    The son of a successful manufacturer and a member of a well-established family, Tirrell had lived with his wife and two children in Weymouth, Massachusetts, when he apparently grew tired of the domestic life.   Whether he had abandoned his family before or after meeting Maria Bickford in a Boston brothel isn't clear, but they certainly became inseparable afterward.

Maria Bickford's history was a  little different from Tirrell's.   Born and raised in Bangor, Maine, she married a shoemaker at sixteen and had one child who died in infancy.  Her friends took her to Boston to help her overcome her grief, but she quickly became fascinated by Boston life.  After only three years of marriage, Maria soon abandoned her husband and took up with a paramour who left her.   With no other options, Bickford turned to prostitution to support herself.   Her youthful beauty made her extremely popular, and she quickly became established in brothels catering to the wealthy Boston elite.   That she soon became Albert Tirrell's constant companion did nothing to change that. 

Whether Tirrell was just her lover or Maria's pimp was never clear though they often traveled together from one new address to another.   Despite never marrying (they were both legally married to other spouses),  Albert and Maria often posed as husband and wife, staying in some of the most fashionable hotels along the East Coast.   

They also scandalized Boston society, and Albert even stood trial for adultery at one point (it took an impassioned plea from family members, including his young wife, to save him from prosecution).   He and Maria frequently quarreled, but she would claim that she didn't mind because they had "such a good time making up."   Under the name "Maria Welch," she and Tirrell maintained a house on London Street for a little while.   It was hardly a secret that the house was a front for Maria to entertain clients (Maria's name was on the front door), but prostitution was still technically illegal.  For this reason, she and Tirrell rarely stayed at any address for long despite Maria's exclusive clientele.

At the time of Maria's murder, she and Tirrell lived at a thinly disguised brothel in Boston.   An elderly couple ran the place and advertised it as a boarding house, but it seemed clear enough that people rented the rooms for only one purpose.  Though Albert supposedly lived elsewhere, he stayed with Maria frequently and was known to have slept there the night of her death.    Other residents reported hearing loud noises coming from Maria's room early in the morning, but nobody investigated until after the body was found.  

When police questioned Tirrell about the murder, they found that he had disappeared.  Still, he was their only suspect since he had been with the victim earlier that night and was likely the last person to see her alive.  The bloody clothes in Bickford's room were identified as belonging to Tirrell.  Also, one witness had reported seeing Tirrell afterward arguing with a livery stable keeper about getting a horse.   He reportedly said he was "in a scrape" and needed a horse and carriage as fast as possible.

Albert Tirrell disappeared for months until Louisiana police, acting on a tip, arrested him on a boat in the Gulf of Mexico on December 5.   As Boston police later learned,  Tirrell had driven to the home of some relatives in Weymouth, MA, on the day of the murder.   These relatives supplied him with money which he then used to flee to Canada.   He formed a convoluted plan to sail to Liverpool from Montreal, but lousy weather eventually led to his sailing to New Orleans instead.  There, he was arrested and returned to Boston to stand trial for the murder of Maria Bickford.

While nobody could be sure who was responsible, a book titled The Life and Death of Mrs. Maria Bickford was released shortly before the trial began.   The book, a largely fictionalized account of Maria Bickford's life up to the time of her murder, portrayed her as a beautiful and tragic figure victimized by the men in her life.    Though portraying Maria as a victim, the book also highlighted all the stereotypes associated with prostitutes.   Despite claims of being "true to life," the book was primarily fabricated and meant to capitalize on Tirrell's upcoming trial.   There is no evidence that any jurors in the trial read the book, but it likely added to the media circus surrounding what promised to be a high-profile case.

Despite the scandal, Tirrell brought to his family, they were well-to-do enough to hire Rufus Choate to defend Albert in the lurid trial.   Choate, a prominent lawyer and politician, had already served in Congress as a Senator and was legendary for his skill as an orator.  Since virtually everybody in Boston knew about the overwhelming evidence against his client, Choate was obliged to try a different strategy to save his client, thanks to the "scandal sheets" that described every detail of the case.  

First, he attacked Maria Bickford's character to make her less sympathetic to the jurors.  Through evidence carefully orchestrated by Choate, Tirrell's cousins portrayed Maria Bickford as a shameless siren who had seduced poor Albert away from his wife and children.   They also claimed that she had a fatal hold on Albert and forced him to spend nearly all his inherited wealth on buying her jewelry and dresses while she continued throwing herself at other men.   Despite this apparent abuse, Choate also insisted that his client would have been entirely irrational to kill Maria due to his love for her.   As Choate pointed out, she " had held him spellbound by her depraved and lascivious arts for a long time."  

There was also a touch of racism added as Choate also brought in witnesses who testified that they had seen Maria with non-white clients (likely meant as proof of her "moral turpitude").  As a "fallen woman," anything Choate could say about Bickford must have seemed plausible enough to jury members, all of whom had seen the rise of urban prostitution in their lifetimes. 

To explain the evidence against his client,  Choate and his defense team would do everything in their power to further blacken Maria Bickford's reputation, even suggesting that the wound to her throat had been self-inflicted.  He also broadly hinted that prostitutes were prone to committing suicide due to their immoral lifestyles.  But Rufus Choate didn't push this argument very far.   Considering that Maria was nearly decapitated, arguing that she had done it to herself would have been too much for even a sympathetic jury to swallow.  Not to mention the trifling problem of who had set the fire that nearly consumed her body.

All of which led to his second great defense strategy:  sleepwalking. Since somnambulism was regarded as a mysterious phenomenon without a rational explanation, arguing that Tirrell must have murdered Maria in a trance state was a bold move on Choate's part.  As he stated in the courtroom, "Evidence will be produced to show that it had pleased Almighty God to afflict the prisoner with this species of mental derangement.”   That evidence included anecdotes from history, including famous people such as Alexander the Great acting strangely while sleepwalking. The defendant's family and friends also described episodes from Tirrell's life, showing that he had been sleepwalking from a young age.  To cap off the testimony on Tirrell's behalf, Walter Channing, dean of Harvard Medical School, testified that it was theoretically possible for a man to commit murder while sleepwalking.

Whether it was the character assassination of the victim or the novel sleepwalking defense, Choate's ploy worked.   But it was his fantastic skill at rhetoric that truly swayed the jury on his client's behalf.  Even the court stenographer recording Choate's arguments complained that she had difficulty keeping up with him during the trial.  "Who can report chain lightning?"  she reportedly said.

It took only two hours for the jurors to hand down a not-guilty verdict.   Spectators applauded, and Albert Tirrell burst into tears.   Of course, his legal problems were hardly over.  He still had to stand trial for arson (which was also a capital crime at the time), but Choate also got him off that charge.  According to historical records, Tirrell failed to get Choate to refund half his legal fees because "his innocence was so obvious." 

Not that Tirrell escaped justice completely.   The judge refused to acquit him on the charge of adultery, and he eventually spent three years in state prison.   He soon vanished into well-deserved obscurity after his release from what I could find.   Whether Tirrell ever went back to his long-suffering family isn’t mentioned.

Afterward, Choate left private practice to return to public office (after being reportedly besieged by defendants hoping he could help them as well).   Despite his reputation as a statesman, Rufus Choate never quite lived down being the one to introduce the sleepwalking defense.   Following his death in 1859,  one lawyer eulogized him by saying that Choate was "the lawyer who made it safe to murder." 

Which is one hell of a legacy when you think of it.

Epilepsy, Violence, and Crime: A Historical Analysis

In the 19th and early 20th century, epilepsy was one of the most investigated disorders in forensic psychiatry and psychology. The possible subsidiary symptoms of epilepsy (such as temporal confusion, alterations of consciousness, or increased aggression) played pivotal roles in early forensic and criminal psychological theories that aimed to underscore the problematic medical, social and legal status of epileptic criminals. These criminals were considered extremely violent and capable of committing sudden, brutal acts. Although the theory of “epileptic criminality” was refuted due to 20th‐century developments in medicine, forensic psychiatry, and criminal psychology, some suppositions related to the concept of epileptic personality have lingered. A new paper published in the Journal of the History of the Behavioral Sciences explores the lasting influence of the theory of epileptic personality by examining the evolution of the theories of epileptic criminality both in the international and the Hungarian context. Specifically, it calls attention to the twentieth‐century revival of the theory of epileptic personality in the works of Leopold Szondi, István Benedek and Norman Geschwind. The paper shows that the issue of epileptic personality still lingers in neuropsychology. In doing so, biological reductionist trends in medical‐psychological thinking are traced, and attention is drawn to questions that arise due to changing cultural and medical representations. (PsycInfo Database Record (c) 2022 APA, all rights reserved)

For the abstract

The nature of posttraumatic stress disorder in treatment-seeking first responders.

Approximately 10% of first responders report posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD). Although reports within first responders suggest that they have distinct symptom presentations, there is a need to understand how the clinical profiles of first responders may differ from others seeking treatment for PTSD. A new study in the European Journal of Psychotraumatology compared the PTSD symptom profiles of first responder and civilians seeking treatment for PTSD. Method: Participants self-referred to the Traumatic Stress Clinic (University of New South Wales, Sydney) for enrolment in out-patient treatment trials for PTSD. Participants comprised people of mean age 41.72 years (SD = 10.71) who met DSM-IV criteria for PTSD. The sample was composed of 128 first responders and 182 civilians. Clinician-administered interviews of PTSD (Clinician-Administered PTSD Scale) and depression were conducted, as well as measures of self-report measures of depression, alcohol use, posttraumatic appraisals, and anger. Results: First responders reported greater rates of dysphoric cluster of symptoms, including diminished interest, emotional numbing, and social detachment, and less psychological reactivity and avoidance of situations, than civilians with PTSD. Beyond PTSD symptoms, first responders also reported more severe levels of depression and suppressed anger. Conclusions: These findings indicate that treatment-seeking first responders present with a distinct clinical profile that is characterized by dysphoric symptoms. These symptoms can predict poor treatment response and require specific attention in treating PTSD in first responders. (PsycInfo Database Record (c) 2022 APA, all rights reserved)

For the abstract

The Body Snatcher

In the summer of 1989, construction workers doing renovations in the basement of an old campus building made a gruesome discovery:   layer upon layer of bones, including complete skeletons that were unmistakably human.   According to the forensic anthropologists assigned to investigate the remains, there were more than 10,000 bones though even the experts couldn't tell how many there were in all.   They also unearthed piles of human clothing, buttons, and medical instruments though there was nothing else to indicate the names and identities of the deceased.

While all the bones were eventually unearthed to be taken to Georgia State University for research, there was no real mystery about where they all came from. The building being renovated was once the home to the Augusta Medical College, and the bones themselves were the remains of hundreds of dissections carried out by medical students during the 19th century.  That many dissected bodies had been obtained illegally by "resurrection men" digging up fresh corpses from local cemeteries has no secret. Still, newspaper stories covering the discovery did focus on one almost-forgotten figure from history:  the former slave who had been the most prolific body snatcher of his time.

Little is known about Grandison Harris' early life before being purchased by the Augusta Medical College in 1852. By all accounts, he had been chosen by the medical college because they needed a strong slave for the type of work they had in mind.  Though his official job title was "janitor,"  his actual job was much more sinister.  During the 19th century, laws banning the use of human corpses for dissection were widespread (typically considered "desecration"), and medical schools faced the problem of getting enough bodies to train students in surgery.   While some places allowed the bodies of executed criminals to be used instead, this was hardly widespread, and the body shortage remained acute on both sides of the Atlantic.

All of which led to the demand for people who specialized in securing bodies for medical schools in various ways.   Many of these bodies were obtained by robbing cemeteries or claiming the corpses of people without families.   Usually treated as a misdemeanor by courts recognizing that resurrection men served a necessary purpose, the ghoulish Burke and Hare case that emerged in 1828, not to mention the "Burkers" of London who followed their example, led to a change in UK laws that eventually eliminated the need for body snatching altogether.

In Georgia, however, the laws against body snatching remained in place.  And so, for nearly three decades, Grandison Harris plied his trade as a full-time grave robber.  While many other resurrection men worked in teams due to the effort in digging up corpses, the powerfully built Harris managed just fine on his own.  What made his job even easier was his privileged position with the medical school and his position as a "janitor," which helped allay suspicions.   His nightly routine was straightforward:  driving his horse cart to the cemetery of his choosing, he would slip in, pick out the grave he wanted, dig it up, smash the coffin lid with an axe, and toss the body into a sack to go on his cart.   By carefully refilling the grave, he removed any traces showing it had been disturbed.  

It probably also helped that Harris preferred not to steal from the more prominent cemeteries that could afford proper security to prevent body thefts.   Instead, Harris focused on the cemeteries that catered to African American families and the local "Potter's field" where paupers and unidentified corpses were buried.  Not that this was unique to Georgia in any way, mind you.  Back in the 19th century, cemeteries were as segregated as neighborhoods were, with "Negro burying grounds" being set aside even in Potter's fields in most U.S. cities.  This made them prime targets for resurrection men looking for bodies to sell, and, despite complaints from families of the deceased, the stealing would continue for decades.  

In his quiet way, Grandison Harris became a legend among the staff and students at the medical college.  According to one story, a medical student had snuck up Harris' horse cart while getting a drink in a local tavern (as he usually did after a hard night's work).  The student then removed a body from one of the sacks in the cart and took the corpse's place.  When Harris returned to the cart, the student began moaning in a ghostly voice: "Grandison, I'm cold.  Get me a drink!"  Harris, who likely had lots of experience dealing with student pranks, reportedly told the voice to "get your own drink."  

But resurrection men like Grandison Harris rarely had an easy job securing bodies.   Well-publicized cases of body-snatching (usually involving the bodies of white people) often led to family members taking the law into their own hands to protect the bodies of their recently buried relatives.   This included hiring security to watch the graves or, in some cases, setting up a spring-gun trap in the coffin.   Newspaper stories about the thousands of bodies "mutilated every year on dissecting tables in medical colleges in the United States" were also used to sell "burglar-proof grave vaults" to the well-to-do.  As for poorer families that couldn't afford extra security, all they could do was leave trace markers such as specially placed stones on the graves to tell if they had been disturbed in any way.   

This also led to widespread public resentment against medical schools, including the 1788 Doctor's riot in New York City that left many rioters and militiamen dead.   But there was nothing equivalent in Georgia since Grandison Harris was canny enough to avoid exposure for decades.  The college administrators appreciated Harris' work, considering what he accomplished for them.  In 1858, just a few years after his body-snatching began, they purchased Harris' wife and son from a South Carolina plantation for $1,250 (not a small sum in those days) and brought them to Augusta to join him.  

Ironically enough, Grandison Harris became a prominent figure in the local African American community (likely because they had no idea he was the one stealing the bodies of their loved ones).  His time at the medical college allowed him to become an authority on human dissection and anatomy, and he also lectured medical students on these subjects.   Still, considering the common discrimination and class barriers at the time, it's hardly surprising that he was never officially acknowledged for his work.  

 Also, with the changing times and the greater availability of corpses due to changes in legislation, Harris eventually lost much of the medical college's legal protection.  Finally, in 1882, he was arrested for body-snatching and ordered to pay $1000 and spend twelve months working on a chain gang (no word is given on whether the fine was paid).  Despite this setback, he continued to work for the college though he was only paid about $15 a month, according to records.   He eventually retired in 1905 on a pension of $10 a month and died in 1911, having lived well into his nineties.   He is buried in Cedar Grove Cemetery, not far from many of the graves he had stolen bodies from over the years.

Aside from the inevitable mention that whenever new stories of human remains linked to the college come to light, Grandison Harris has also enshrined in local legends surrounding resurrection men and body-snatching.   In 2013, a debut novel by author Matthew Guinn was released to widespread acclaim, including being a finalist for the Edgar Award for best mystery novel.   Titled "The Resurrectionist," the novel is largely based on the story of Grandison Harris, who is represented in the book by a tormented slave named "Nemo" (no man).   Just something to keep the Grandison Harris legend alive for another generation.

New True Crime Stories You Won't Believe Book Now Out

It's finally here.   True Crime Stories You Won't Believe:  Book Two follows up from the first book with a new collection of bizarre tales of crime and punishment.   They include:  

• The real story behind “Arsenic and Old Lace” and why the reality isn’t as lighthearted as Hollywood made it out to be.
• A case in which a dream helped solve a gruesome murder. Or did it?
• When a staunch Irish sea captain murdered almost his entire crew on the high seas and what happened afterward.
• Did a Ouija board drive an Alabama mother and daughter to commit murder?
• The story of Jane Toppan and what drove her to kill so many of her patients.
• The story of Blanche Monnier, whose family locked her away for decades to keep her from marrying the wrong man.
• Was the Devil responsible for the murder of Alan Bono?
• The true story of the Vampire of Le Muy and his bizarre need to steal corpses.
• The story of Bridget Cleary, whose husband killed her in the belief that she had been replaced by fairies.

And this is just a sampling of the stories you will find. Though you may well be acquainted with some of these stories, I try to be as complete as possible, including newspaper accounts and additional details from what other true crime writers have written about these cases.   

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