Mind of a Serial Killer - MURDEROUS MINDS: Jimmy Hoffa Pt. 2

Episode Date: January 15, 2026

Jimmy Hoffa’s bid to reclaim his power ended the moment he climbed into a car outside Detroit’s Machus Red Fox restaurant — and vanished forever. In the gripping conclusion of this two-part series, Killer Minds follows the frantic investigation into Hoffa’s disappearance, the mob figures and union rivals with motives to silence him, and the tangled web of dead ends, false confessions, shifting alliances, and chilling leads that spanned decades. Vanessa Richardson and Dr. Tristin Engels break down the psychological toll of an unsolved case, the culture of secrecy surrounding the mafia, and why the mystery of Hoffa’s fate still captivates the nation nearly 50 years later. If you’re new here, don’t forget to follow Killer Minds to never miss a case! For Ad-free listening and early access to episodes, subscribe to Crime House+ on Apple Podcasts. Killer Minds is a Crime House Original Podcast, powered by PAVE Studios 🎧 Need More to Binge?  Listen to other Crime House Originals Clues, Crimes Of…, Murder True Crime Stories, Crime House Daily and Crimes and more wherever you get your podcasts! Follow me on Social Instagram: @Crimehouse TikTok: @Crimehouse Facebook: @crimehousestudios YouTube: @crimehousestudios To learn more about listener data and our privacy practices visit: https://www.audacyinc.com/privacy-policy Learn more about your ad choices. Visit https://podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Hi, Crime House community. It's Vanessa Richardson. Exciting news, conspiracy theories, cults and crimes is leveling up. Starting the week of January 12th, you'll be getting two episodes every week. Wednesdays, we unravel the conspiracy or the cult, and on Fridays we look at a corresponding crime. Every week has a theme. Tech, bioterror, power, paranoia, you name it. Follow conspiracy theories, cults and crimes now on your podcast app, because you're about to dive deeper, get weirder, and go darker than ever before. This is Crime House.

When faced with any kind of tragedy or letdown, getting closure is important. Whether it's a breakup, the death of a loved one, or even a job loss, it's so much easier to take the next step forward when you understand exactly what happened. But what happens when that closure never comes? or worse, when the lack of answers reaches a national scale. That's a question many people still wrestle with to this day, 50 years since the disappearance of Jimmy Hoffa. Numerous theories and false confessions have cropped up over the decades,

but the question still lingers. Did someone kill Jimmy? And if so, who and why? The human mind is powerful. It shapes how we think, feel, love, and hate. But sometimes it drives people to commit the unthinkable. This is Killer Minds, a Crime House original. I'm Vanessa Richardson. And I'm Dr. Tristan Engels. Every Monday and Thursday, we uncover the darkest minds in history, analyzing what makes a killer. Crime House is made

possible by you. Follow Killer Minds and subscribe to Crimehouse Plus on Apple Podcasts for ad-free early access to each two-part series. Before we get started, be advised, this episode contains discussions of violence. Listener discretion is advised. Today, we conclude our deep dive into the world of Jimmy Hoffa, one of the most powerful labor leaders in American history, whose mysterious disappearance remains one of the country's greatest unsolved cases. Jimmy rose from humble Midwest beginnings to become one of the most influential people in the country. But his hunger for power and control eventually put him in the crosshairs of the very people who helped get in there. As Vanessa goes to the story, I'll be talking about things like how investigators psychologically cope with chasing a case that seems impossible to solve,

the emotional cost of being so close yet so far away to justice, and what decades of mystery can do to the collective psyche and why we can't seem to let the story go. And today we'll be asking the question, why would someone want to kill Jimmy Hoffa? After years of climbing to the top of the Teamsters Union, Jimmy Hoffa's empire came crashing down after he was sent to prison on corruption charges. But even behind bars, the grit that he'd built his career on never left him. Once he was released, Jimmy was determined to reclaim his union presidency and rebuild his legacy. And a part of that plan, including included a lunch meeting with two former foes. Just after 1 p.m. on July 30th, 1975, 62-year-old Jimmy Hoffa stepped out of his house in Lake

Arion, Michigan and into his green 1974 Pontiac Grandville to make the 20-minute drive to an upscale restaurant called Macchus Red Fox in Bloomfield Hills. He planned to meet with two men, Anthony Provenzano, a former Teamster official with Mob Connect that Jimmy once clashed with in prison, and Tony Jackaloney, a well-known figure in organized crime. Jimmy thought the meeting would be his chance to extend an olive branch and squash any beef between them. He also hoped that once he was back in their good graces,

they might help him with his plan to regain his position as the Teamsters president. When Jimmy pulled into the restaurant, he waited in the parking lot for Provenzano and Jackaloni to arrive, making small talk with a few people who recognized. who recognized him and wanted to shake his hand. After all, Jimmy was a pretty famous guy at the time and was always happy to meet the working class people he fought for. But after 20 minutes of waiting, Jimmy's patience wore thin.

There was still no sign of Tony or Anthony, and his irritation started to show. He paced around his car in the parking lot and finally decided to call his wife, Joe, from a phone inside the restaurant. When he did, he told her that he'd be home for dinner, and that he believed he was being stood up. After hanging up, he called his friend Louis Linto to vent some more.

Jimmy was desperate to regain his power, and I think that desperation shows in how much he underestimated the risk of this meeting. He had disrespected Anthony in prison, and in prison politics, that kind of slight rarely goes unanswered. The fact that he was willing to meet with him alongside another mafia figure without hesitation or without any risk appraisal, suggests at least to me that he wasn't really thinking rationally. He was driven almost entirely by the need to reclaim his position. And being stood up by them wouldn't have felt like a scheduling glitch.

It would have felt personal. It signaled disrespect. And for Jimmy, disrespect hits directly at his deepest insecurity because it challenges his status and his relevance and ultimately his vulnerability and his identity. Do you think someone like Jimmy could ever feel like they were actually in harm's way? I don't think Jimmy was capable of letting himself feel like he's in harm's way or in danger because he didn't allow himself to feel vulnerable ever. He needed to maintain the illusion that he still had the power, the negotiation skills,

and the strength to overcome any threat. He'd survived so much and he'd outmaneuvered so many people that it's possible that he genuinely believed he was untouchable. I don't think that this is ego-driven. I think it's survival-driven, but it's ingrained in his identity now. Jimmy thought he had a real chance to fix things between himself and the mob. Even though he was growing more impatient by the minute, he waited at the restaurant until 2.30 p.m.

Then a maroon car pulled up near the entrance. Witnesses later said it seemed like Jimmy recognized whoever was inside because he willingly got in without making a fuss. When he shut the door, the car drove off, and Jimmy never returned. By nightfall, he still hadn't made it home for dinner, like he'd promised Joe. She thought it was unusual, but not unheard of. For all she knew, maybe Tony and Anthony had shown up, and maybe Jimmy was busy talking business.

She knew how hard he was working to regain control of the union. And let's not forget, this was long before the days of cell phones and constant contact, back when everyone had to trust that things were all right until there was a reason to think otherwise. That reason came the next morning. When Joe woke up on July 31st, Jimmy still wasn't home. That's when she knew something was seriously wrong. At 7 a.m., she called her adult children, James and Barbara, and Lewis, the friend Jimmy had called from the restaurant to tell them he was missing. The family knew that Jimmy had been stood up at the Red Fox restaurant, so they immediately drove there to see if there were any clues about

Jimmy's whereabouts. There were. In the parking lot, Jimmy's family found his green Pontiac sedan. It was unlocked with his wallet and keys still inside. They didn't see any signs of struggle, and there was no evidence that anyone had rifled through Jimmy's belongings. After the discovery of his car, Jimmy's family contacted police to a officially file a missing person's report. It didn't take long for police to swarm the restaurant and Jimmy's home, questioning employees and any witnesses that had been there the afternoon before. Several people recalled seeing Jimmy outside the restaurant around 2.15 p.m., but none of them ever remembered him going inside. At that point, this was all the police had to go on. All anyone

could say for certain was this. Jimmy was here one minute and gone the next. With such a high-profile missing person, it was clear that local law enforcement was in over their head. So less than 72 hours after his disappearance, the FBI took over the case, and Jimmy's family pledged a $200,000 reward for information relating to his disappearance. One of the first agents assigned to the case was Special Agent Robert Garrity. Robert had worked organized crime cases in the past, but nothing as big as this was shaping up to be. His first order of business was to figure out who Jimmy was supposed to meet for lunch that day, and lucky for him, Jimmy had it written right there on his home calendar, T.G. 2 p.m. Red Fox.

This led them to Tony Jackaloney and Anthony Provenzano, but upon questioning both men, they denied being anywhere near the restaurant on July 30th. According to Anthony Provenzano, he was in New Jersey playing cards. As for Tony Jackaloney, he said he'd been getting a haircut and massage at an upscale athletic club a few miles away from the restaurant. Associates of both men confirmed their alibis. Alibis in these contexts are less about proving innocence and more about controlling the narrative. They're designed to redirect attention and suspicion and reinforce the image that everything is under their control. A solid alibi keeps power in their hands and keeps investigators chasing details.

instead of challenging the person at the center of the case. And maybe they weren't there, but that doesn't mean they didn't send the person who was there either, because realistically speaking, these two are the ones who knew where Jimmy would be and when, and it sure sounds like they have motive. Well, even though both mobsters could be accounted for, that didn't mean they had nothing to do with Jimmy's disappearance.

And the authorities knew that it was unlikely they'd find Jimmy safe and sound. They knew that, sadly, they were looking. for a body. As Robert Garrity and other agents dug deeper into the investigation, more names surfaced with possible involvement. On August 8th, agents searched Jimmy's car and found fingerprints on a seven-up bottle that matched a man named Chuckie O'Brien. As they dug deeper, they learned that Chuckie had been close to the Hafa family for years. He was practically one of them. Jimmy used to date Chuckie's mom, Sylvia, and when she wasn't able to take care of Chuckie for a while, Jimmy took him in. As Chucky got older, Jimmy brought him into the business, and before long,

Chuckie was working as his assistant. Because of the family connection Chucky had with Jimmy, it didn't seem like a lead that would take the investigation anywhere. So for the time being, the FBI moved on to another name on their list, Frank Fitzsimmons. At the time of Jimmy's disappearance, Frank was the current Teamsters president, and in the past, he'd been Jimmy's closest friend until Frank took over the union while Jimmy was in prison. After that, their relationship turned bitter. The FBI was well aware of Jimmy's comeback plans. Joe had confirmed that her husband intended to run for Teamsters president later that year. But what the officers didn't know until now was what exactly happened between Frank and Jimmy in the past. When they learned that Jimmy thought

Frank had stolen the presidency from him, it led them to wonder, was that reason enough for Frank to want Jimmy out of the picture for good? They didn't believe Frank would have carried out his murder himself, not with the mafia in the mix. Plus, Frank wouldn't want to put himself in that position. Instead, it would be a favor from the mob. After all, that's how the Teamsters and the mafia worked. They'd always had an,

I scratch your back, you scratch mine type of relationship. When Agent Garrity followed the lead, he and his team also learned that the mob seemed to prefer Frank in charge instead of Jimmy. Frank didn't push back much on the mafia's requests, and he allowed them greater influence within the Teamsters by giving the local chapters more power than Jimmy did. That meant the mafia could have their men involved on the local level across the country,

instead of having to fight for limited top spots nationally. Still, this was all speculation. The FBI didn't have any proof of their theories until a few weeks after Jimmy disappeared and investigators got their first real lead. witnesses outside the restaurant recalled seeing Jimmy get into a maroon car, but to this day, those witnesses have never been named. No one at the restaurant reported hearing yelling or a struggle, so investigators believed that he must have hopped in willingly. That suggested that Jimmy must

have known whoever was driving and trusted that they wouldn't hurt him. Police started looking at suspects' vehicles, and it didn't take long before a match surfaced. Anthony Jacaloney's son happened to own a maroon mercury sedan. Turns out the day that Jimmy disappeared, someone very close to Jimmy had borrowed that car, Chuckie O'Brien. Apparently, eyewitnesses saw Chuckie in the same general area as the restaurant Jimmy disappeared from that day, and they said he was the one behind the wheel of that maroon sedan. To investigators, it was all starting to make sense. They thought that if Chuckie pulled up that day, Jimmy probably wouldn't have hesitated to get in. Maybe Chucky told Jimmy the meeting spot had changed, or maybe he said the others were waiting somewhere else.

Some of Jimmy's associates then told the FBI that Chucky and Jimmy had started to grow apart recently, and that Chucky was running more with mob guys and less with his mentor. Possibly because even though Jimmy looked after him and helped him further his own career, he was never given any high-ranking position. Even more interesting to the FBI was that Chucky had a relationship with Anthony Jackson's, He even referred to him as Uncle Tony, and it turned out Chuckie's mother, Sylvia, had also dated Tony for a long time after she and Jimmy broke up. Police seized the Jackaloney's car on August 9th. Once it was in their possession, they tore through it with a fine-tooth comb. What they found didn't look great for Chuckie. There were bloodstains in the back seat that looked like someone had been seriously injured, if not worse.

Investigators also found a few unused bullets in the glove box and short strands of hair on the seat, hair that looked like jimmies, though DNA and hair analysis wasn't far enough along yet to provide anything conclusive. In the trunk, officers discovered a 12-gauge shotgun belonging to Anthony Jacaloney's son. Investigators believed it could have been the murder weapon, but without a body to test it against, the discovery was useless. So, police turned to canine units, and when the animals were brought in shortly after discovering the car, they picked up Jimmy's scent. However, when Chucky was brought in for questioning, he had an explanation ready. He said that his own car had been repossessed, and that on July 30th, the day of Jimmy's disappearance,

he'd borrowed the vehicle from the Jackaloney family to deliver a frozen salmon to a Teamsters official. The blood, he said, wasn't from Jimmy. it was from the fish. According to him, it was a hot day and the cooler had leaked from the heat. So assuming Chucky was involved in Jimmy's disappearance in some way, how does someone turn on a man

who was essentially a father figure to him? That's not something that happens overnight. It's a slow psychological shift shaped heavily by the world that Chucky was moving into and had been heavily exposed to. The mafia has a tremendous tremendous pull. They operate much like any gang system does. They groom. They offer identity, belonging,

influence, and protection at levels Jimmy couldn't match, especially once Jimmy's own power started to fade. Over time, the loyalty they build becomes conditional and transactional. You're accepted as long as you're useful. And once you're deep inside a world like that, your sense of safety depends entirely on staying aligned with the people who hold real power. So a betrayal of this magnitude, from Chucky comes when fear, pressure, and the need to survive outweigh the emotional bond that was there before. Even Jimmy likely understood this dynamic to some degree. When the mob first approached him about partnering up for the Teamsters, he likely faced a similar dilemma, a cooperating compromise, or refuse and become their enemy. He ultimately chose to cooperate because he wanted power,

and he can't fathom the idea of vulnerability. But if the mob wanted Chucky involved in whatever happened to Jimmy, saying no wouldn't have been a safe option for him. In that world, refusal is defiance, and defiance can cost you your life. Under those conditions, psychological loyalty shifts from the person you love to the person who can keep you alive. So Chuckie may not have turned on Jimmy because he stopped caring or because he didn't love him. He may have done it because in the world he was living in, he had no other choice or felt he had no other choice. He was a pawn. He was also a lure by the sounds of it, and it was do or die. And that's not to say that's an excuse, of course,

but it is an explanation as to how someone like Chucky, who, you know, was loyal to Jimmy, who looked at Jimmy as a father figure, could ultimately betray him in the way that he is suspected of doing. How would being mentored by a dominant, powerful public figure like Jimmy Huffa affect Chuckie's own sense of identity and independence once he became an adult? Firstly, it's probably what introduced him to the mafia to begin with. Between Jimmy's ties to the mafia and his mother's ties, she was dating Tony Jackaloney at one point.

Chucky was exposed to that world from every familial angle, so that can make it normalized. Secondly, it taught him that dominance and power weren't optional they were necessary to succeed or to survive and to stand on his own. Much in the same way Jimmy learned that strength and control were essential in an unprecedented. predictable world, Chuckie's world was shaped by the same lesson, but with higher stakes. For Chuckie, given the core beliefs he had and that he likely grew up with, the mob then represented stability, identity, and belonging. Being raised in that environment, aligning with power doesn't seem like it was a choice for him, but rather a survival skill. And once he internalized that, the emotional bond he had with Jimmy would have been in constant tension

with the pressure and expectations of the men who now held real influence over his life. Because now this is part of his identity. He's going to be drawn to where the real power lies, his survival instinct. Even though everything found in that maroon sedan seemed to paint a deadly picture, the FBI knew it was all technically circumstantial evidence, and they couldn't prove that anything had actually happened to Jimmy or that the car was involved in his disappearance. DNA testing was still in its infancy, so they couldn't test to see if the blood stain in the car was jimmies.

They were only able to compare fish blood to human blood. And when they tested the stain in the car, it came back positive as fish. Once again, investigators hit a dead end. The harder they pushed the mafia for answers, the quieter things got. One by one, members refused to talk, each insisting they knew nothing. It was the code they lived by. something called Omerta, a vow of silence that meant whatever they knew would go to the grave with them. Realizing they weren't getting anywhere, the FBI decided to pull out all the stops.

On September 2nd, 1975, less than six weeks after Jimmy had vanished, a federal grand jury convened in Detroit with the hopes of getting people to talk under oath. If investigators could pull that off, they thought, maybe they would hear some missing piece of testimony that would blow the case wide open. Witnesses who knew Jimmy, whether they were friends, foes, or something in between, were called to testify. But the testimony didn't clear anything up. If anything, it only made things murkier, as Jimmy's disappearance slowly morphed into one of the biggest mysteries in American history. By September of 1975, 62-year-old Jimmy Hoffa had been missing for two months. A federal grand jury was now investigating his disappearance.

appearance and whether organized crime had played a role, the FBI hoped that by bringing in key mob figures under oath, someone might finally crack. Of the many who were called, a handful of them had ties to the Bufalino crime family, including a man named Thomas Andreda, and another named Salvatore Brigulio, who went by Sally Bugs. The Bufelinos were a powerful Pennsylvania-based mafia family that had been intertwined with the Teamsters for years. The family's lawyer had even represented Jimmy at one point, and Bufolino associates had both personal and business ties to Jimmy throughout his life. Like other mobsters involved with the union, the Bufelinos felt like the current president, Frank Fitzsimmons, was easier to control

than Jimmy was. The FBI thought that could be reason enough to want Jimmy dead. But when the mobsters took the stand, they all invoked their Fifth Amendment right and refused to talk. The mafia's code of silence was stronger than ever. Investigators didn't get any helpful information from their interviews, but the lack of cooperation did tell them something. The mafia knew a lot more than they were letting on. People plead the fifth for many reasons, and it's often about self-protection. In the legal system, I actually assessed this during competency evaluations. Forensic psychologists look at whether a person understands the concept of self-incrimination, that they have the right to invoke the Fifth Amendment during testimony, and whether they can meaningfully weigh the legal consequences of speaking versus remaining silent.

But in the mafia, pleading the fifth means something much deeper. Silence is a loyalty test. It shows you understand the code, like you mentioned. You don't talk. You don't cooperate. And you don't give anyone outside the group even a slid. of power. In that world, talking is seen as a collapse, a sign that you've broken under pressure. And someone who breaks becomes a threat to everyone who's connected to them. That's why the entire

group stays silent. It's not just about legal protection. It's about survival for all of them. Talking risks unraveling all their operations, exposing their leaders, and inviting retaliation. And an organized crime being labeled a snitch is lethal. Silence becomes the ultimate display of loyalty, discipline, trust, and self-preservation. With the mafia's code of silence in full effect, the FBI was starting to lose all hope. But just before the trial went completely cold, something unexpected happened. In November of 1975, someone on the inside finally cracked. The Bureau received an anonymous letter, claims.

claiming that an inmate at a New Jersey prison named Ralph Picardo had information about Jimmy Hoffa's disappearance. 36-year-old Ralph was serving time for murder, but was known to run in the same circles as Anthony Provenzano's crew. Ralph told investigators that three men had visited him in prison, Thomas Andretta, his brother Stephen, and Sally Bugs. During that visit, Ralph claimed the men confessed to being involved in Jimmy's death, even telling him that Jimmy's body had been stuffed into a 55-gallon drum and shipped to a New Jersey landfill

for disposal. It was the first real lead investigators had in months, but when they questioned the Andretta brothers and Sally Bugs, none of them would talk. So the officers went straight to a landfill in New Jersey called Brother Moskado's dump and looked for the barrel containing Jimmy's remains. After days of digging through the frozen, contaminated ground, they came up empty-handed. Some investigators theorized that Ralph didn't actually know anything and that he could have made the entire thing up, especially because the names he'd given officers were already public information based on the grand jury.

Still, some thought it seemed like Ralph did actually know something. So eventually, for his safety, he was led out of prison early and placed in witness protection with his family. Whenever I see a situation like this, I always evaluate what a person has to gain versus what they have to lose. So what did Ralph have to gain by telling investigators anything? Typically, there's an incentive like a reduced sentence or immunity, but those deals aren't

handed out freely. You have to offer verifiable information, something that can actually help secure a conviction. The risks of breaking the code of silence are lethal, so people in Ralph's position usually don't take that risk unless they're confident the reward is worth it. And when investigators did their research and they came up empty-handed, I'm not I'm less inclined to believe he simply made it all up unless he was put up to it. It seems more likely that critical evidence was missed, the body was moved, or Ralph himself was lied to, tested for loyalty and failed. But Ralph's situation inside prison is also important to

consider. He was in federal custody, surrounded by law enforcement and witnesses in structures that reduced any immediate danger of retaliation. People who cooperate from behind bars calculate safety differently. They're insulated from the street. They're protected by the institution they're in, and they're harder, though not impossible, for the mafia to reach. But that's short-term survival. If he successfully negotiated a reduced sentence or an early release, all of those protections disappear, and that's when the real risk shows itself. How does being in prison amplify the survival instinct that Ralph likely had? Prison amplifies the survival instinct because it reduces life to its basic elements like safety, control, and predictability. In that kind of environment,

every decision becomes about minimizing harm and maximizing their chances of getting through each day because prison creates a heightened sense of vulnerability. You're surrounded by people with their own alliances, their own conflicts, and agendas. You have limited autonomy, limited privacy, and limited ways to protect yourself. It's an inherently violent, environment. And when I worked in prisons, there were incidents daily, incidents of violence daily. That constant tension activates the same psychological systems that we see in people facing chronic threat. The brain becomes more focused on short-term survival rather than long-term consequences. And for people used to being in control and having the power, that kind of dynamic

shift can create a lot of psychological pressure that would cause someone to, act impulsively and make choices for immediate gratification or immediate release of anxiety rather than long-term consideration. The tip that led the FBI to dig up a landfill in New Jersey wouldn't be the last. In fact, it would be the start of many digs to come. In the years that followed, the FBI kept pushing and interviewing suspects following any piece of evidence or witness testimony that might lead them to the people responsible for Jimmy's disappearance. But the mafia was good at keeping quiet, and even better at silencing people who they thought

could turn on them. That became clear in 1978 when Sally Bugs, one of the men Ralph Picardo had mentioned to authorities, was murdered. Sally's killers were never caught, and investigators believed it had all the markings of a mob hit, likely to keep him from talking about what he might have known. and Sally Bugs wasn't the only loss tied to the case. In 1980, Jimmy's wife, Joe, passed away at age 62 after a long battle with a disease called Small Stroke Syndrome. Her death was more than a personal loss to her family.

It also meant that investigators could no longer turn to her for insight as one of the last people to speak with Jimmy and the person who knew him best. With Sally Bugs and Joe no longer around, the investigation started to stall. In December of 1982, Jimmy's children, Barbara and James, who were now 47 and 42, had their father legally declared dead. A move to help settle the family estate, but also to finally begin moving on. Around the same time, the FBI officially labeled the case cold. When a case goes cold, there's a real sense of, like, unfee. finished business. It can trigger frustration, self-doubt, and a feeling that justice hasn't been

served. And that's not just for the investigators who had been actively working the case, but for the victims and their families in the entire community. And in a case this big, with national attention and mob influence, labeling at Colt feels like admitting defeat. It's personal. It can feel like surrendering to the very people investigators were fighting to hold accountable. and that takes a toll. Many of these investigators spent years on the case, spending countless hours, countless interviews, countless leads that went nowhere in sleepless nights, and to put that much effort into something and still walk away without answers is a heavy psychological burden. It affects morale, identity, and even how investigators see their own effectiveness. It also affects the families and their ability to grieve and get closure.

Jimmy's children had to declare him dead without ever even knowing that for sure. That's such an ambiguous loss. So they too can feel like they're giving up on their father. Imagine the psychological toll that that took on them. Life has to go on. Bills have to get paid even if you're not ready to move on. That's extremely hard to reconcile with unresolved grief. Still, the story of Jimmy's disappearance never went away.

Throughout the 1980s, the mystery became part of the zeitguet. And over time, wild theories made headlines every few years, like claims that Jimmy was buried beneath Detroit construction sites, under Giant Stadium in New Jersey, or even somewhere deep in the alligator-riddled swamps of the Florida Everglades. Some leads were taken seriously, but whenever they were investigated, nothing ever came of them. Years passed, and each breakthrough ended the same way in a dead end. That is, until 1989 rolled around and a Detroit Everett. FBI chief named Kenneth Walton decided to drop a public bombshell. After nearly 15 years of silence, he claimed he knew something no one else did.

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on your asha admissible at Canadian Tire, SportExper, and the keeper. The conditions apply. Visit avionrewards.com, bar-obliq.FR, bar-obliq triangle for more detail. Behind every crime is a story that deserves to be told. A story of deception, of broken trust, of lives forever changed.

I'm Annie E. Elise, host of the hit podcast, Serialously, and creator of the leading true crime YouTube series 10 to Life. That series has grown to over 1.5 million subscribers and more than 500 million views. And up until now, 10 to Life has only ever lived on YouTube. But now, for the first time ever, you can also listen wherever you get your podcast. Follow 10 to Life Now wherever you get your podcasts. By 1989, Jimmy Hoffa had been missing and presumed dead for more than 14 years. Leeds had come and gone, and suspects had been questioned, although none of it ever went anywhere. But just when people started accepting that his case would never be solved, FBI Detroit

Chief Kenneth Walton made a claim that stunned the media. He said he knew who murdered Jimmy Hoffa, but he also said that he could never bring the killer to justice without exposing confidential informants. Though he wasn't a part of the original 1975 investigation, Walton had become increasingly involved in the case over the years as he rose through the ranks of Detroit's FBI field office. By the late 1980s, he knew more about the Hoffa investigation than almost anyone inside the Bureau. Walton explained that some of the key suspects and witnesses in the case were already dead, but there were others who were alive and too dangerous to name. He claimed that the evidence that the FBI had collected came directly from organized crime circles, people who

had risked their lives to talk. Walton said that forcing them to testify would almost certainly cost them their lives and maybe even the lives of their family members. When the FBI is publicly saying that we know who did this, but they're too powerful to prosecute, they're essentially saying that the federal government, with its endless resources, is powerless.

That does not instill confidence for the public. It stokes more fear. So why would he do this? Again, I always look at what someone seeks to gain when analyzing someone's behavior. And given it's the government, the first thing that comes to mind is bureaucratic or political incentive. Law enforcement agencies often feel pressure from higher political agencies to show progress, especially in cases that have national attention like this. And in this case, they may have felt that silence was creating more mistrust than the transparency they offered.

And there's some truth to that. With silence, people can assume there's corruption, incompetence, or a cover-up. Transparency can quiet those suspicions. Now, another thing that comes to mind is that it's possible Chief Walton was seeking notoriety. That wouldn't be uncommon, especially after our earlier discussion around cold cases and the psychological toll it can take. When you've spent years inside an investigation that the entire country is watching, being the person who finally has the answers, can feel valid.

It reinforces identity and competence and also legacy. But the reality is, as we've covered earlier, you can subpoena these men, whether they're confidential or not, you can get them on the stand, but you cannot force them to talk. They can and will plead the fifth. So in a way, the FBI wasn't powerless because the mob was too strong. They were powerless because the legal system cannot compel their cooperation beyond that. That makes these public statements feel like both an admission of defeat and an attempt to reclaim the narrative. But for the public, hearing the law enforcement knows the truth, yet can't act on it. It affects your trust in that. It highlights the uncomfortable reality that some systems are structured in ways that allow powerful people to avoid consequences.

And that's a truth that most people would rather not confront. And perhaps Agent Walton, was disillusioned with that himself over all of the years serving. And that's why he shared what he did. It was a bold claim, especially from someone admitting he couldn't do much to bring Jimmy's killers to justice. Some wondered if it was all just a tactical move by the authorities, a way to stir the pot and make the right people nervous. Maybe the FBI was hoping someone would slip up on a tapped call or say too much around the wrong person. Of course, that's all speculation.

and whether Kenneth was bluffing or not, no confessions or charges ever followed it. Still, the FBI's claim did do something for the case. It created renewed public interest. Suddenly everyone was talking about Jimmy Hoffa again, and his unsolved case started to become a staple of pop culture. Throughout the 1990s and 2000s, the Jimmy Hoffa story showed up everywhere,

from being spoofed on cartoons like The Simpsons and Futurama to countless late-night talk shows and true-crime documentaries, the fact that it was still being talked about decades later helped keep the case alive, and more importantly, on law enforcement's radar. In 2001, with DNA technology now far more advanced than it was at the time of his disappearance, the FBI decided to revisit one of their oldest pieces of evidence in the case, the hair found in the car that Chuck E. Brian had borrowed the day Jimmy vanished. When the results came back, the tests confirmed what everyone had been wondering about for more than 20 years.

The hairs were confirmed to be a perfect match for Jimmy. But even though the conclusion was a breakthrough on paper, it didn't really change the outcome of the case at all. Chucky and Jimmy had been close friends at one point, and Chucky was also friendly with the Jackaloney family. So the FBI knew a good defense lawyer could easily argue that there were plenty of reasons that Jimmy's hair. could have ended up in that car. Without proof of how it got there, or what had actually happened that day, the FBI couldn't move forward,

and the now 67-year-old Chucky was still denying any involvement. Years of dead ends in a high-profile investigation take a real psychological toll on the people working the case. Generally, investigators go into this line of work because they want answers, accountability, and closure for victims, for families, and for the public.

So when a case keeps circling back to nothing over and over, it can wear on them. It creates frustration, doubt, and sometimes even a loss of professional confidence. Every new lead carries hope and every dead end chips away at it. And when a case drags on long enough, something else can happen. It can become part of the culture, just like you outlined. Jimmy Hoffa went from missing person to national mystery to punchline, like in the Simpsons or Futurama. I remember as a kid, his name being thrown around as a joke quite often, which is actually how I heard about him for the first time. It wasn't the news. It wasn't, you know, a detailed documentary. It was a punchline. For law enforcement, a case this big becoming synonymous with entertainment like that or failure is embarrassing, whether they admit it or not. Again, it affects morale, reputation, and how the public views the justice system's ability to protect them.

and that can disrupt confidence and motivation of investigators as well. Even with the new science on their side, the FBI still didn't have the answers they needed to move forward with Jimmy Hoffa's case. And every time they got close, things seemed to fall short. It would be another three years before investigators received what felt like another credible tip. In 2004, while on his deathbed, a former associate of Jimmy Hoffa and hitman for the, the Bufelino crime family named Frank Sheeran claimed he knew exactly what happened. In a three-page letter, Frank wrote that on the day Jimmy vanished, he had flown to Pontiac, a Detroit suburb, to pick up Jimmy's body from the killers.

Then, Frank said he took Jimmy's remains to a trash incinerator to be burned. He alleged the entire thing was orchestrated by the Bufelinos, the same people that the Andreda brothers and Sally Bugs had been involved with. The letter quickly got the FBI's attention, but as far as Frank's own family was concerned, it wasn't real. They believed it had all been forged by his biographer to build hype for an upcoming book about Frank's life. That book would eventually become the basis for the Oscar-nominated Martin Scorsese film,

The Irishman. Still, investigators had to check it out, so soon after receiving the tip, they searched the house that Frank allegedly said Jimmy was killed in, and, to their story, they surprise, they actually did find traces of blood beneath the floorboards. But when DNA testing was complete, the results revealed the stains were not a match for Jimmy. Over the next few years, authorities dug up multiple Michigan properties, yards, fields, basements, and even swimming pools. Each time it was the same story.

There was no sign of Jimmy Hoffa. But in May 2006, another potential lead search, This one came from a man named Donovan Wells, who was serving time for marijuana trafficking. He told the FBI that back in 1975, he'd lived on a farm outside of Detroit that was owned by a Detroit teamster named Roland McMaster. Donovan wasn't a teamster himself, but he did run in the same circles. The night before Jimmy disappeared, he said a group of teamsters showed up at the property and dug a hole big enough to fit a body in. That same evening, Donovan claimed he'd gone to dinner with Anthony Provenzano and a few others, and that he overheard Anthony talking about his meeting with Jimmy that was scheduled for the next day.

According to Donovan, Anthony said in an oddly cheerful tone, It's going to be a great day tomorrow, a great day tomorrow, right, Mac? Donovan initially thought Anthony could have been in a good mood because he was genuinely looking forward to the meeting. But when Donovan reflected on it after Jimmy's disappearance, He realized Anthony could have been alluding to Jimmy's impending murder. Deathbed confessions are psychologically fascinating because they're rarely about justice. They're more about emotional relief. As people confront their own mortality, the defenses they've carried for decades, they go down.

The fear of punishment no longer matters to them and the weight of their guilt becomes harder to ignore. Confessing becomes a way to unburden themselves. That's because mortality, forces reflection. And that's especially true when you consider that many mafia members or affiliates were culturally Catholic. That doesn't mean they lived by the teachings clearly, but Catholic guilt and the idea of confession as a path to redemption are generally ingrained in them. So at the end of life, those beliefs become prominent. The ritual of confession, even an informal one, gives them a sense of spiritual relief and a chance to make peace before dying. So when Frank

made his deathbed confession, it was likely about him in reconciling the life he lived. Do you think deathbed confessions are always truthful, or do you think they're sometimes given falsely as a need to maybe be remembered? No, deathbed confessions are not always truthful. There are several variables to consider. The first is medical. We have to look at what condition the person is dying from, what medications they're on, and whether those factors could alter their perception, their memory or their grip on reality. Pain medications, organ failure, and delirium can all create distorted thinking. And sometimes the falsehood is intentional.

In certain cases, people make dramatic confessions because they know sensational stories can generate book deals, interviews, and documentaries, all of which can support their families after they die. It's a way of creating financial security after they're gone. There are also psychological motives. A false confession can be used as a form of revenge, implicating someone else, tarnishing the reputation, or reopening old wounds. Near the end of life, especially in mafia context, unresolved conflicts can resurface and confessing to something even falsely can feel like a way to settle a score. So deathbed confessions definitely not automatically reliable.

They're complex, shaped by medical realities, psychological motives, and sometimes by personal agendas. that don't disappear just because someone is dying. The FBI considered the tip serious enough to be worth their time, and they decided to take a look at the property. After weeks of digging on the farm, the search turned up nothing, just like every attempt before it. Similar digs followed. In 2013, the property of another Detroit mob boss was excavated,

and in 2023, a man came forward who claimed his Teamster father once told in that Jimmy was buried beneath a New Jersey bridge. Each new lead promised answers, but they all ended up back at square one. More than 50 years later, we're all still asking the same question. What really happened to Jimmy Hoffa? The FBI continues to follow up on credible tips, and it seems like every couple of years another property search or excavation makes headlines.

But the truth is, anyone who might have known what really went down, that fateful day is likely long gone. Even Chuck E. O'Brien passed away in 2020, taking whether or not he was the driver of that maroon car to the grave with him. Today, Jimmy's children are in their 80s. His daughter Barbara had a lengthy career as a lawyer and judge, while James went on to follow in Jimmy's footsteps and serve as Teamsters president for more than 20 years before retiring in 2022. Even after all these years, the Hafa family hasn't given up hope. They still hope that someday they'll finally get the answers they've been waiting so long to hear. Thanks so much for listening.

Come back next time for another deep dive into the mind of a killer. Killer Minds is a Crimehouse original powered by Pave Studios. Here at Crime House, we want to thank each and every one of you for your support. If you like what you heard today, reach out on Instagram at Crimehouse. Don't forget to rate, review, and follow Killer Minds wherever you get your podcasts. Your feedback truly makes a difference. And to enhance your listening experience, subscribe to Crimehouse Plus on Apple Podcasts. You'll get every episode of Killer Minds ad-free, along with early access to each thrilling two-part series.

Killer Minds is hosted by me, Vanessa Richardson, and Dr. Tristan Engels. and is a crimehouse original powered by Pave Studios. This episode was brought to life by the Killer Minds team. Max Cutler, Ron Shapiro, Alex Benadon, Lori Marinelli, Natalie Pritzowski, Sarah Kamp, Sarah Batchelor, Marky Lee, Sarah Tardiff, and Carrie Murphy. Thank you for listening.

Looking for your next listen? Hi, it's Vanessa Richardson, and I have exciting news. Conspiracy Theory's Cults and Crimes is, leveling up. Starting the week of January 12th, you'll be getting two episodes every week. Wednesdays, we unravel the conspiracy or the cult, and on Fridays we look at a corresponding crime. Follow conspiracy theories, cults, and crimes now on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, Amazon Music, or wherever you listen.