Money Crimes with Nicole Lapin - Modern Day Pirates

Episode Date: January 29, 2026

In this episode, we examine 19-year-old Abduwali Muse and three fellow bandits hijacking a ship off the coast of Somalia. They kidnapped its captain, Richard Phillips, setting off a legendary showdown. During the same week in 1881, 21-year-old cattle rustler, horse thief, and murderer known as Billy the Kid was sentenced to death. But his story was far from over. Today, Billy the Kid remains a Wild West legend. If you’re new here, don’t forget to follow Scams, Money and Murder to never miss a case! For Ad-free listening and early access to episodes, subscribe to Crime House+ on Apple Podcasts. Scams, Money and Murder is a Crime House Original Podcast, powered by PAVE Studios 🎧 Need More to Binge?  Listen to other Crime House Originals Clues, Crimes Of…, Crime House 24/7, Serial Killers & Murderous Minds, Murder True Crime Stories, and more wherever you get your podcasts! Follow me on Social Instagram: @Crimehouse TikTok: @Crimehouse Facebook: @crimehousestudios X: @crimehousemedia 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.

Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer. It's not just a saying. It's a means of survival. Because in the world we're entering, trust is a trap, and betrayal is often fatal. I'm Carter Roy, and this is scams, money, and murder. And I'm Vanessa Richardson. Every Thursday, we'll explore explore the story of a money-motivated crime gone wrong, whether it's a notorious con, fraud, burglary, or even murder. From the archives of Crime House, the show, Murder True Crime Stories, and Killer Minds,

these are some of our favorite cases that have kept us lying awake at night wondering, if money didn't make the world go round, could all this have been avoided? And as always, at Crime House, we want to express our gratitude. attitude to you, our community for making this possible. Please support us by rating, reviewing, and following scams, money, and murder wherever you get your podcasts. Today's episode comes from Crime House the Show, where this week's theme is Outlaws, violent criminals who didn't care who they had to hurt in order to make money. We'll start today's episode in 2009 when four heavily armed teenagers captured a container ship off the Somali coast. It was the first successful

act of piracy against an American ship in nearly 200 years. Then we'll go back in time to 1881 when Billy the Kid was sentenced to death after evading authorities for three years, only to make a dramatic escape weeks later. Despite taking place over a century apart, both stories feature ambitious, cutthroat young men who defied authority at every turn, taking what they wanted and doing as they pleased, but being an outlaw has consequences. And as the subjects of today's cases found out, you can't run forever. On the morning of April 8th, 2009, a 19-year-old Somalian man named Abdulawali Muce crouched at the front of a small motorboat. He clutched an AK-40s. He clutched an AK-40, seven in his hands. Muce and his three companions were 240 nautical miles off the coast of Somalia

bouncing across the waves in pursuit of their destiny. A 500-foot-long 14,000-ton American-owned container ship called the Maersk, Alabama. The vessel was less than a mile away, and Muce and his crew were closing the gap fast. The crew of the Alabama knew they were being followed. Intruder alarms blared from the deck, and sailors launched flares and sprayed water from high-pressure hoses to try and deter their pursuers. But Muce was dead set on capturing the mayors Scalabama. He lifted his rifle, aimed it at the massive ship, and opened fire. At that moment, he didn't care about the consequences. The only thing on his mind was earning enough money from this latest act of piracy to change his and his family's life for good.

Abduwali Muse was born in Galcayo, Somalia in 1990 during a very difficult period for the Somali people. In 1991, Somalia's government collapsed and warlords battled for control of the nation. Despite the unstable environment, Muse was a well-behaved child. According to his mother, the young boy was more interested in reading than making mischief with other boys his age. As he got older, he worked as a fisherman and a taxi driver, but eventually Muce's circumstances became more desperate and he turned to a more lucrative profession. Piracy.

By the late 2000s, Somalia was one of the poorest countries in the world, with very few economic opportunities, with nothing to lose and everything to gain. many young men set their sights on the cargo ships on the horizon. Shipping conglomerates and foreign governments were known to pay multi-million dollar ransoms for the safe return of their captured crews, a life-changing sum in a country where much of the population lives on less than $2 a day. Mews' mom maintains he was a good boy who was brainwashed into a life of crime by local gangs.

It's not clear when he committed his first act of piracy, but we do know he captured multiple ships without being caught. And as he maneuvered alongside the mayor Scalabama on April 8, 2009, Mews was confident his good luck would continue. Mews acted quickly as he hooked a tall ladder over the edge of the ship. In a matter of seconds, he scurried up and on to the wide, empty deck. his three fellow pirates close behind. Back in the water, their unattended skiff drifted away along the Indian Ocean. There was no turning back now. They'd capture the Alabama, or they'd die trying. The bridge of the Mayorsk, Alabama, was located at the stern, meaning the back of the ship,

rising three stories above the deck. Inside, alarms blared as the captain, Richard Phillips, ordered the rest of his 15-person crew to lock themselves away in the fortified engine room below decks. He'd already radioed the authorities to let them know his ship had been boarded, but in the middle of the open sea, help was hours away. They were on their own as they looked down at the four armed pirates advancing across the deck towards them. The Maersk Company didn't allow its sailors to carry firearms, so the crew had to improvise. Phillips fired a flare gun at the pirates,

but they took cover among the shipping containers and shot back with their AK-47s. Dodging the hail of gunfire, Phillips ran to lock the door to the bridge and came face to face with Muce, who was pointing his rifle at him through the window. Five minutes after climbing up the ladder from the skiff, Abdouali Muce had taken command of the Maersk, Alabama.

But as he would soon find out, he was not in control. There were two other crew members on the bridge with Captain Phillips. Colin Wright, the ship's third mate, and a Bangladeshi seaman named Abu Ther Modzaied, who everyone called ATM. The pirates had the guns, but Phillips, Wright, and ATM had deep knowledge of the ship's controls and layout, and they used that information to sabotage their captors at every turn. Shortly before the takeover, Phillips had transferred control of the ship from the bridge to the engine room, where the rest of the crew was hiding.

When Muse demanded to know why the Alabama's engines had stopped, leaving the ship drifting in circles, Phillips played dumb. He said the ship's engines had broken during the chase. While the pirates were distracted, Phillips disabled the ship's engines. the ship's radar and radio systems. And when Mews tried to use the ship's satellite phone to call for reinforcements, Phillips gave him incorrect instructions for how to place the call. Then, when the call didn't go through, he claimed the phone was broken. This was a big win for Phillips. If Mews had been able to summon another boat, the pirates could have taken the hostages to the

Somalian mainland. There they would have been held captive for months with little hope of being rescued. Muce knew that and was growing increasingly agitated. Waving his gun around, he repeatedly ordered Phillips to get on the ship's PA system and call the rest of the crew to the bridge. Rounding up the crew was a top priority for Muce because each additional hostage meant a bigger ransom. Phillips did as he was told, but he'd personally led his men in an anti-piracy training just days before, and they knew to ignore his messages and stay hidden. So Muse tried a different approach. He left the other three pirates to guard Wright and ATM

and had Phillips walk him through the ship to search for the crew himself. A cargo ship like the Mayors, Alabama, is a lot like a skyscraper laid flat on its side. It has dozens of rooms laid out over thousands of square feet of space, on multiple floors, connected by a maze of stairwells, passageways, and service corridors. Phillips knew where his men were, so he led Muse to all the places they weren't. He talked loudly to Muse the entire time, so any other hidden crew members would know they were coming. After a fruitless search, Muse and Phillips returned to the bridge, empty-handed.

By then, the other pirates had gotten the ship's radio working. When they turned it on, they were shocked to hear the voice of the ship's first mate, Shane Murphy, who was hidden away with the rest of the crew. Murphy was talking to an officer aboard the USS, Virginia, a Navy-guided missile cruiser. As the pirates listened, the sailor on the radio confirmed attack helicopters had launched and were en route to the Alabama. Muce and his companions started to panic. Now the clock was ticking, but Captain Phillips knew something they didn't. There was no USS Virginia.

The so-called Navy officer on the radio was just Shane Murphy, disguising his voice and talking to himself. The whole thing was a bluff, and the pirates had bought it, hook, line, and sinker. With Navy attack helicopters supposedly bearing down on the Alabama, Mews got on the radio and tried to get an Allied pirate ship to come pick up the hostages, but they wouldn't risk it. So Muce came up with a new plan,

load as many crew members as he could find into the Alabama's lifeboat and take them to a fleet of nearby ships controlled by his fellow pirates. Muce set off to search for the crew again, this time taking ATM as his guide. In his rush to get going, he left his gun on. the bridge. While ATM led his unarmed captor on yet another wild goose chase through the lower decks, the other three pirates ordered Phillips to get the rescue boat ready. It was 18 feet long, fully enclosed by a bright orange fiberglass roof and equipped with an outboard motor. At gunpoint, Phillips set to work topping up the fuel tank with enough gas to make it to the Somali coast. Meanwhile,

Below deck, ATM led Meuse down a long, dark hallway. Suddenly, Mike Perry, the chief engineer, appeared out of nowhere. Before Muse knew what was happening, Perry tackled him, knife in hand. During the skirmish, Perry's knife slashed Muce's palm, cutting a deep gash. Shocked and injured, Mews surrendered. Back up on deck, one of the walkie-talkies the pirates had stolen from the Alabama's bridge crackled to life. You there, pirates? It was Mike Perry calling from below decks. We have your buddy, and we'll trade him for the captain.

Abdul Ali Muce had come aboard the Maersk, Alabama to take hostages. He never could have guessed he was going to become one himself. On April 8, 2009, Captain Richard Phillips stood in the blazing sun, with three pirate captors on the deck of the Mayersk, Alabama. The rest of his crew was hidden away, deep below deck, where they'd captured the pirates' leader, Abdul Ali Muce. Now the pirates and the crew members were engaged in hostage negotiations over the Wauki-Toki.

The crew proposed a prisoner swap. Phillips would get into the rescue boat with the pirates to help them launch the craft. Once they were in the water, the crew of the Mayorsk, Alabama would release Muce in exchange for Phillips. The pirates didn't want to leave empty-handed, but they still believed that a pack of Navy helicopters would arrive at any second. So they accepted the deal. Phillips led the three pirates through the complicated process of operating the rescue boat until it was hanging off the Alabama's deck. For a short time, Phillips and the Pirates

were just a bunch of sailors working together and even trading jokes as they tried to accomplish the same goal. But the laughter wouldn't last. Phillips and the pirates climbed into the rescue boat and Phillips lowered it into the water. Looking up to the deck of the Mayorsk, Alabama, Phillips saw his crew emerge from hiding. They were escorting Mews, his injured hand wrapped in a white handkerchief. The crew lowered a ladder over the edge of the ship, and Muce climbed down to the rescue boat. Despite his injury, Muce was in high spirits, happy to be back with his crew. He took a seat at the rescue boat's control panel while Phillips made his way towards the ladder to complete the exchange. Suddenly, Mews gunned the rescue boat's engines, maneuvering away from the ladder,

out to sea. What about the deal? Phillips asked. Mewse simply replied, No deal. Mews was a businessman. The assault on the Mayorsk, Alabama had been costly. They'd lost their boat, and he'd been injured. They couldn't leave with nothing. And even a single American hostage was a valuable commodity.

Americans were rich. He was certain they would pay up to get Richard Phillips back. Night fell as Mews steered the rescue boat back towards Somon. Malia, some 300 miles away. It would be a long journey, especially in a small boat with no toilet or air conditioning. But Meuse thought maybe they wouldn't have to make it all the way back to the mainland. He used the satellite phone he'd taken from the Alabama, which he now knew how to use, and called other pirate vessels to meet them out on the open water.

Three nearby ships received Muce's message. there were more than 50 hostages imprisoned on these ships, German, Russian, and Indonesian crew members who'd been captured when their vessels were hijacked. The three pirate ships began motoring towards the rescue boat at full speed, hoping to add an American to their collection and get a cut of Muses' ransom. As the night wore on, the pirates took turns driving the rescue boat,

guarding Phillips and sleeping. Despite the sweltering heat, Captain Phillips was eventually able to doze off. He woke up in the early hours of April 9th to light blazing through the rescue boat's windows. It was a U.S. Navy destroyer, the USS Bainbridge, steaming towards them at full speed. Earlier, Phillips' crew had been lying when they told the pirates the Navy would show up at any minute. But this was the real deal. The government had received the Alabama's distress call the day before, and now the cavalry was finally here.

With the Navy ship in the area, the incoming pirate ships aborted their mission. But Mews didn't lose hope. Now he had the chance to parlay his hostage into something valuable. Over the next few days, Mews talked on the radio with a hostage negotiator aboard the Bainbridge, demanding $2 million in exchange for Phillips. The Navy told Muce to sit tight while they considered his offer. In the meantime, they sent supplies, including water and Pop-Tarts. The pirates slept in shifts, so somebody was always keeping an eye on Phillips.

Otherwise, there was nothing to do but wait. By Sunday, April 12th, it was clear that Mews' negotiations with the Navy were getting nowhere, so he agreed to board the USS Bainbridge to continue the discussion in person. The Navy connected a tow line from the destroyer to the rescue boat, and a team of sailors collected Meuse in a rubber raft. Muse was young, but his leadership was the only thing keeping the other three pirates in line. Once he was off the rescue boat, chaos erupted. The remaining pirates squabbled among themselves in Somali.

and berated Phillips in English. After a few hours of this, Phillips finally reached a breaking point. He walked to the rear hatch and told the pirates he was going to jump in the water to cool down. They didn't like that. Two of the pirates leapt up and grabbed Phillips, pulling him back from the hatch.

Meanwhile, the third pirate picked up his AK-47 and opened fire through the hatch toward the Bainbridge. It's not clear why the pirates started shooting, but the response was swift and decisive. For days, a team of Navy SEAL snipers had been laid out on the stern of the Bainbridge, tracking the pirates every move through their rifle scopes. When they saw the pirates grab Phillips and start shooting at the ship, they had clearance to shoot back. Three snipers fired at once, killing the pirates on the rescue boat, while miraculously leaving Phillips unharmed. Within seconds, more seals boarded the rescue boat and collected an exhausted and blood-splattered

Richard Phillips. After five excruciating days, his ordeal was finally over. was brought aboard the Bainbridge for a medical evaluation, then taken to a cabin to recuperate. The Navy made sure to take good care of him after his hellish ordeal. When Phillips requested a beer, the captain of the Bainbridge sent him an entire cooler. Elsewhere aboard the Bainbridge, Muce was arrested as soon as the negotiators learned that Phillips had been freed. After a brief stay in the ship's brig. Muce was flown to New York City, where he made history as the first person to be charged with piracy in a U.S. court in over 100 years. He was also charged with

attacking two other international ships also in 2009. Muce pled guilty, and in 2011 was sentenced to 33 years and nine months in federal prison. Today, Abdulahler, Lee Meuse is incarcerated at a medium-security federal prison in Terre Haute, Indiana. When he's released in 2038, he will have spent more than half his life living high and dry in the American Midwest. Up next, the story of another infamous young outlaw whose crimes shocked the nation in 1881 and whose story continues to resonate in. pop culture.

Abdul Ali Muce risked everything for a massive payday, and over a century earlier, another young man played fast and loose with the law, but instead of the high seas, this outlaw made his name in the Wild West. On April 8, 1881 in Missilla, New Mexico, curious onlookers packed into a dusty courtroom. They were there to get a good look at the fresh, faced bandit who'd been terrorizing the region for the past three years, 21-year-old Billy the Kid. Despite his young age, Billy was a hardened outlaw, and after a tense showdown a few months earlier, he'd finally been apprehended. Billy the Kid had a long list of crimes, but today he was

on trial for only one, the murder of Lincoln County Sheriff William Brady. The procedure. The proceedings were just a formality. After only two days of testimony, Billy was found guilty and sentenced to die by hanging. His execution was scheduled for one month later on May 13th in Lincoln, New Mexico, but Billy didn't think he'd make it that long. He told a courtroom reporter, I expect to be lynched in going to Lincoln. The authorities had the same concern. Billy the kid was handcuffed and shackled for the 150-mile wagon ride to the jailhouse and accompanied by seven armed guards. With four murders to his name, the police weren't taking any chances. But although Billy had transformed from a scrawny teenager into a cold-blooded killer,

he wasn't always destined to be an outlaw. There's still a lot of debate over his origins, but most historians agree that Billy Billy the Kid was born in New York City in 1859. He was born as Henry McCarty, but throughout his short life, he went by several names. But for the sake of our story, we'll call him by his most famous one, Billy the Kid, or Billy for short. His father's identity is shrouded in mystery, but Billy's mom, Catherine, was an Irish immigrant. She cared deeply for her son, and soon after Billy was born, Catherine fled the slums of New York and headed west in search of a better life. It's not clear where they landed, but in 1873, when Billy was 13, Catherine married a prospector

named William Antrim. He lived in the mining town of Silver City in the New Mexico Territory, so Catherine and Billy followed him there. Although there were 15 different saloons and casinos in Silver City, Billy wasn't tempted. In fact, he was a model citizen. He was an avid reader, enthusiastic singer and dancer, and an attentive student who quickly became fluent in Spanish. He performed in local plays and was a regular fixture at town dances. But tragically for Billy, the fun quickly came to an end. Catherine died of tuberculosis in 1874, just a year. year after arriving in Silver City. After that, William Antrim was more interested in prospecting for gold than raising his stepson and kicked him out. At just 14, Billy was essentially an orphan,

living on his own in a boarding house with no good role models. It was only a matter of time until he found a bad one. A few months after his mom died, Billy fell in with a local drunk, who the locals called Sombrero Jack. When Billy was 15, Sombrero Jack broke into a house and stole a couple of pistols, then passed them off to Billy, his partner in crime, to sell. When the boy got caught with the stolen merchandise, Sombrero Jack skipped town and Billy went to jail. But he didn't plan to stay there for long.

On his first night behind bars, the scrawny boy, escaped by crawling up the jailhouse chimney. Then he fled Silver City, covered head to toe in soot. After Billy got cleaned up, he hopped a stagecoach to Clifton in the Arizona Territory, where his stepfather was now working at a copper mine. But if he'd expected sympathy or help from William Antrim, he didn't get it. When the prospector heard about his stepson's brush with the law, he told him, if that's the kind of Boy, you are, get out. With that, Billy the kid was rejected a second time by the only family he had left. With no more options, he reinvented himself as an outlaw.

Billy spent the next few years in the Arizona territory, stealing horses, rustling cattle, and getting good at card games. For the most part, Billy was able to avoid serious jail time for his crimes, but after a few brushes with the law, he got into some grown-up trouble. In August 1877, 17-year-old Billy was playing poker at a saloon outside Fort Grant, Arizona, when he got into an argument with a hot-headed local blacksmith named Francis Cahill. Soon, fists were flying, and Cahill dragged Billy outside. A crowd gathered to watch as he pinned Billy's arms under his knees and pummeled him. Billy was able to wrestle one of his hands free and pull a heavy 45-caliber revolver from his pants. He pressed the barrel to Cahill's stomach

and fired. Then Billy hopped on the nearest horse and rode out of town. Meanwhile, the crowd of witnesses rushed Cahill to the military hospital at Camp Grant, where he died the next day. At the age of 17, Billy the kid was already wanted for murder, which meant he couldn't stay in Arizona. Just two years after fleeing New Mexico covered in soot, Billy returned. But this time, he was covered in blood. By 1877, Lincoln County, New Mexico was the largest county in the United States. With a whopping 20 million acres, it was the perfect place.

to raise cattle, but it was also one of the most dangerous places in America. Despite its low population, the New Mexico territory accounted for 15% of murders in the U.S., and had a homicide rate 47 times the national average. The leading cause of death? Gunshot wounds. With his track record, Billy thought he'd be in good company. And so, towards the end of 1877, Billy settled in Lincoln County. He found work on a cattle ranch owned by a 23-year-old Englishman named John Tunstall. Billy liked Tunstall as soon as he met him, but he didn't want the rancher, or anyone else in town, to judge him. So he kept his past hidden.

Even so, Billy was well-liked by his fellow ranch hands, and popular with the young women in Lincoln's large Mexican-American community. He flirted in Spanish, was charming, funny, and sang like a bird. He was the life of the party at every town dance, where he'd waltz and polka the night away. And that could have been the rest of Billy's life, spending his days on the ranch and his nights on the dance floor. Instead, he was about to get swept up in one of the most violent wars the Wild West had ever seen. The only general store in Lincoln County was run by a crooked businessman named Jimmy Dolan. Since he was the only shop in town, he could and did charge customers wild amounts of money for basic necessities.

That is, until John Tunstall, the rich Englishman Billy was working for, opened his own general store right down the street. but Jimmy Dolan wasn't interested in friendly competition. One of Dolan's closest allies was the county sheriff, William Brady, and on February 18, 1878, Dolan asked the sheriff to ride out to Tunstall's ranch and arrest him on bogus charges, but that's not what happened. As soon as they arrived at the ranch, one of the sheriff's men shot Tunstall's men shot Tunstall off his horse, then again at point-blank range. Billy and his fellow ranch hands couldn't do anything but look on in horror. At Tunstall's funeral a few days later, his former

employees swore revenge. Standing over his boss's body, Billy said, I'll get some of them before I die. And with that, the Lincoln County War had begun. Gun. Tunstall's right-hand man, a Scottish-Canadian lawyer named Alexander McSween, took over the ranch after Tunstall's death, but he was interested in more than cattle. McSweene organized and armed the remaining employees, including Billy. They called themselves the regulators, and they had one goal destroy Jimmy Dolan and his gang of hired thugs. And for the next five months, that's exactly what they did. In March 1878, Billy and a group of regulators chased down and captured three of the men who'd shot Tunstall.

By morning, all three were dead. Throughout the month, there were more casualties, on both sides. but by March 31st, the regulators set their sights on a new target. That morning, Sheriff Brady and a few of his deputies were walking down Main Street in Lincoln. Suddenly, Billy and five other regulators ran out from behind Tunstall's shuttered General Store, rifles at the ready. Brady never had a chance. He was shot a dozen times and died on the spot. The gunfight followed, and one of Brady's deputies was also killed. During the skirmish,

Billy took a bullet to the thigh, but he and the other regulators still managed to get away. Despite the satisfaction Billy must have gotten from killing Sheriff Brady, it wasn't the smartest move. After the ambush, a grand jury indicted Billy and a few of his allies for the murder of Sheriff Brady, and a warrant was issued for Billy's arrest. But the court ruling wouldn't stop the bloodshed because the battle between Jimmy Dolan and the regulators was far from over. Hey, Crime House Community.

I'm Carter Roy, the host of Murder True Crime Stories. If you listen to True Crime, because you want more than just what happened, this show is for you. On Murder True Crime Stories, we take deep dives into history's most notorious murders, but we don't stop at the crime scene. We look beyond the headlines to understand the real story and the people who are impacted the most because these cases aren't just mysteries, their lives, families, communities that were changed forever.

Whether a case is solved or unsolved, my goal is for you to walk away understanding why these stories still matter and why they deserve to be told with care. Each episode explores the darkest corners of true crime while keeping the focus where it belongs on the human cost. If you're already part of the crimehouse community, murder true crime stories is a natural next listen. New episodes drop every Tuesday and Thursday, beginning January 16th, new episodes will also drop every Friday.

Follow Murder True Crime Stories on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, Amazon Music, or wherever you listen. As spring turned to summer in 1878, the Lincoln County War spiraled out of control. Riding high after killing Sheriff Brady, 18-year-old Billy the Kid and his fellow regulators continued their campaign of violence against shop owner Jimmy Dolan.

No matter how much blood was spilled, the fighting dragged on. It became so constant and unprecedented, that some residents fled Lincoln County entirely. Eventually, both sides grew desperate for some kind of end to the conflict. That opportunity came on July 14, 1878, when the regulator's leader, Alexander McSween, led 60 men into Lincoln for a massive nighttime raid. Dolan and 40 of his followers were barricaded in buildings up and down Main Street, waiting for them. Once the shooting started, it didn't stop for the next five days. It was so bad that on

July 19th, a group of U.S. Army cavalry arrived in town to stop the bloodshed. The soldiers, and the huge cannon they brought with them, convinced most of the regulators to run for the hills. As night fell, the only ones left were Billy, Alexander McSweene, and and 11 others. They were all holed up in McSweene's house, which was surrounded by federal troops and Jimmy Dolan's thugs. Dolan's men set the house on fire to try and scare out the regulators, but surrender wasn't an option. They knew Dolan and the others would gun them down the second they laid down their weapons. As darkness fell and flames consumed the house, Billy decided to create a diversion so McSween could escape.

Billy and four other regulators burst out one side of the house and charged through a hail of bullets running for John Tunstall's old store. Although one of them was killed, Billy and three others made it to cover. But McSween and the others in the house had waited too long. By the time they tried to get out, the attackers were ready for the. them. The Lincoln County War ended then and there with Jimmy Dolan's men drinking and dancing over McSween's bullet-riddled body. The bloody ending of the Lincoln County War made national headlines. Many of the stories centered on a lively, scrawny young man called Billy the Kid. Lots of these stories were

false and portrayed Billy as either a noble hero or a cold-blooded killer, depending on who wrote them. Despite the varying opinions, there was one thing everyone could agree on. The public was outraged over the violence in Lincoln County. In response, President Rutherford Hayes fired the governor of the New Mexico Territory and appointed Lou Wallace, a prominent Civil War General, to restore order. To ensure a lasting peace, Governor Wallace announced a general amnesty for everyone who'd taken part in the Lincoln County War, except for those who'd already been indicted. That included Billy, who was accused of murdering both Sheriff Brady and another one of Dolan's henchmen. Billy knew it was just a matter of time until he got caught, and he wasn't going to wait around for that to happen.

So shortly after escaping the fire at Alexander McSween's house, he and the few surviving regulators hatched a plan. They made their way to a nearby ranch and stole 15 horses and 150 head of cattle. After that, they left New Mexico entirely, heading to the Texas town of Tuscosa to sell their stolen herd. Tuscoso was a rough and rowdy place, friendly to horse thieves and gamblers. Billy and his gang called it home for the next several months, playing cards and racing horses while they plotted their next move. Billy's companions begged him to leave the country and make a fresh start in Mexico or South America, anything but going back to the New Mexico territory.

But Billy the kid wasn't interested in leaving New Mexico behind for a little. because he had a girl back in Lincoln County, and he was in love. Back when Billy was hanging with the regulators in 1878, he'd started dating Paulita Maxwell, the Mexican-American daughter of a local rancher. After spending some time in Texas, he decided he couldn't be apart from her any longer. By late 1880, 20-year-old Billy was back in New Mexico, this time in Fort Sumner with Paulita. By day, Billy stole cattle to make money. By night, he and Paulita were fixtures at every town dance. But Fort Sumner was still a part of Lincoln County, and on November 2, 1880, the locals elected a new sheriff, Pat Garrett, and he didn't wait long

to make his feelings about Billy known. He'd heard the young outlaw was back in. He'd heard the young outlaw was back town and Garrett wanted him dead or alive. Before he was even formally sworn in, the sheriff-elect rounded up a posse of 200 men and set off in search of Billy. Billy the kid had no idea what was coming and that one of his own men was about to turn on him. Two days before Christmas 1880, one of the last members of Billy's gang sold him out to the authorities. Sheriff Garrett and an army of deputies descended on an abandoned cabin outside the town of Stinking Springs. After an all-day standoff, they finally got Billy the kid in handcuffs. Over the next few months, Billy was held at a jail in Santa Fe, New Mexico. He knew

the writing was on the wall for him, and wrote several letters to the territory's governor asking for clemency. His pleas fell on deaf ears, and on April 8, 1881, Billy went on trial at the courthouse in Massilla. 21-year-old Billy the Kid was convicted of murder on April 9th. On April 13th, he was formally sentenced to death and taken back to Lincoln with a seven-man security detail led by Deputy James Bell and Marshall Bob Ollinger. Over the next two weeks, Bell and Ollinger kept a watchful eye on Billy while the gallows were constructed. But although the kid was locked up in the county courthouse, no one knew the outlaw had one last trick up his sleeve.

On the evening of April 28th, the final chapter of Billy's life began. After dinner, Deputy Bell escorted Billy to the outhouse, where someone, we don't know who, had hidden a pistol for him. Billy allowed Bell to lead him back into the courthouse, then drew his concealed weapon and shot him. While Bell took his last breaths, Billy ran back into the courthouse, moving as quickly as his shackles would allow. From the second-story window, the kid spied Marshal. Bob Ollinger running up to the building. Billy fired down at him, killing Olinger instantly. Billy used a pickaxe to free himself from his shackles, then stole a horse from one of the

courthouse employees. Bystanders reported that as Billy the kid rode out of Lincoln for the last time, he was singing. But Sheriff Garrett wasn't going to let him get away. After Billy's daring escape, Garrett rounded up yet another posse and set out in pursuit of the man he'd captured only a few months earlier. For the next two months, Garrett and his men prowled the county, but they found no trace of Billy the Kid. Then he got an unexpected tip. Sheriff Garrett's wife heard Billy's girlfriend was pregnant with his child. If that were true, there was a good chance Billy was with her. That was enough for Sheriff Garrett to grab two of his deputies and head to the Maxwell House on the outskirts of Fort Sumner. On the evening of July 14, 1881, the three men snuck into the

peach orchard behind Paulita Maxwell's home and waited. After a few hours in the dark, they spied the silhouette of a man in a wide-brimmed hat sneaking into the house. Garrett stationed his deputies outside the doors, then snuck into a bedroom to wait. Having noticed the deputies outside, Billy stormed into the darkened room, pistol in hand. Gennes, Billy asked in Spanish, before repeating the question in English, who is it? Garrett's response was swift and decisive. He drew his pistol and fired twice, striking Billy the kid in the heart. Billy died. Billy died. on the floor of his sweetheart's house at the age of 21. Media outlets around the world carried the news of Billy the Kid's death.

Papers in London recapped his life story for international audiences. The Santa Fe Weekly Democrat claimed a demon sprung forth from Billy's corpse as soon as he hit the ground. Dime store novels skyrocketed in popularity after his death. And his legend continued long after that. Even today, people are still fascinated by Billy the Kid. Despite his short life, the outlaw, thief, and murderer made quite the impression. But in the end, he left a child alone to be raised without a father,

and his only real legacy was bloodshed. Reflecting on this week in crime history, we can see how alluring the outlaw life might be to a young man with nothing to lose. The orphaned Henry McCarty remade himself as Billy the Kid in search of glory, purpose, and fame. Meanwhile, Abdul Ali Muce set sail in search of a big payday that could lift him and his family out of poverty. Both men got a brief taste at the life they so badly wanted, and both paid a price for their crimes, gunned down in the dark, or whiling away their youth in a cinder block cell. Thanks so much for listening. I'm Vanessa Richardson, and this is Scams, Money, and Murder. If you enjoyed this episode, you can check out more just like it by searching for Crime House the Show, wherever you get your podcasts. Scams, Money and Murder is a Crimehouse original.

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 social media at Crime House on TikTok and Instagram. Don't forget to rate, review, and follow Scams, money, and murder, and Crime House the show, wherever you get your podcasts. And to enhance your listening experience, subscribe to Crimehouse Plus on Apple Podcasts. We'll be back next Thursday. Looking for your next listen? Hi, it's Vanessa Richardson, and I have exciting news. Conspiracy theories, cults, and crimes is leveling up.

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