Money Crimes with Nicole Lapin - The Osage Murders Inheritance Scheme Pt. 1

Episode Date: October 2, 2025

In the late 1800s, members of the Osage Nation in Oklahoma became unbelievably wealthy when oil was discovered on their land. But their newfound riches came with sinister enemies who were willing to do anything to steal the Osage People's budding fortune — even murder. Scams, Money, & Murder is a Crime House Original Podcast, powered by PAVE Studios. Listen wherever you get your podcasts. For ad-free listening and early access to episodes, subscribe to Crime House+ on Apple Podcasts. Don’t miss out on all things Scams, Money, & Murder! 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

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The Osage people in Oklahoma came into incredible wealth. After oil was discovered on their land, the Osage became wealthy beyond their wildest dreams. All of a sudden, they went from struggling to survive to living lives of luxury. They bought cars, homes, arts, even champion racehorses. But when the rest of the country saw how the Osage were living, some people decided they wanted those assets for themselves. A few of them played sick games, courting and marrying their intended victims, even having children with them. Then when the time was right, out came the guns, poison, knives, and explosives.

And these predators took the oil money for themselves. By the time they finally faced justice, it was already too late for the dozens of Osage people who'd lost their lives. Keep your friends But your friends close But your enemies closer It's not just the same 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 Richard Every Thursday, we'll 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 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 case is one we did on our show, Murder True Crime Stories. It was the first of two special episodes in honor of National Native American Heritage Month. In the United States, indigenous people go missing and are murdered at an alarm. rate. This is especially true for indigenous women. In 2016, it was reported their murder rate is 10 times higher than the national average. At Crime House, we want to share and spread awareness about their stories because everyone deserves justice. So for these two episodes, Nicole Lapin and I did a deep dive into the Osage murders, which took place in the Osage Nation in Oklahoma, primarily

in the 1920s. In today's part one, we'll talk about how the Osage people came into unbelievable wealth. Then we'll meet the nefarious puppet master behind the reign of terror that plagued the region and the indigenous woman who helped bring him down. With Nicole's help, we'll also dive into some of the more complex financial aspects of the story. Details that help the reign of terror last as long as it did. Then next time, in part two, we'll see how the Osage people finally convinced the federal government to step in and help bring the reign of terror to an end. All that and more coming up. Like many indigenous American peoples, the Osage suffered great.

at the hands of colonialism. The Osage, whose name means children of the middle waters, did their best to resist the white settlers driving west across the continent. In fact, they actually managed to gain territory in the 18th century. But like all the indigenous tribes in North America, the Osage could only resist for so long and were eventually displaced. In 1839, they lost more than 100 million acres, and were forced onto a reservation in what's now Kansas.

Then in 1871, they were driven off that land. This time, they went back to their original territory in what's now called Oklahoma. That's when the tribe formally purchased a huge tract of Rocky Prairie from the Cherokee Nation. The Osage hoped that holding a deed respected by the U.S. governments would bring them some stability. But they were still financially drained from their repeated displacements. So the Osage decided to lease out grazing land to farmers and ranchers. They had no idea there was something rarer and more lucrative hidden underneath all those grasslands. In the mid-19th century, the oil rush began in earnest.

All over the United States, lucky prospectors were getting rich practically overnight. It became clear that drilling for oil would soon become more profitable than mining for gold. In the 1890s, American prospectors discovered small oil deposits on Osage land. And although those first wells weren't the most valuable, the Osage had the foresight to protect themselves, just in case the next round of drilling was more successful. Before allowing any more oil prospecting, the Osage Nation wanted again, guarantee that settlers couldn't just take their oil and leave them with nothing. As it happens, the U.S. government wanted something from the Osage, too.

It wanted to allot the tribe's land. Now, this is where I come in. Let's talk about land allotment for a second. Generally speaking, allotment is when land is divided up amongst a group of people. Sometimes allotment can be a good thing. After all, it means everybody gets a portion. but for indigenous peoples, allotment has never been a positive thing. In the early 20th century, indigenous tribes gained a lot of strength from collective decision-making.

So let's say an oil company wanted to come in and drill on native land, it had to make a deal with the whole tribe rather than just one landowner at a time. This led to better lease offers for native peoples, which the U.S. government did not like, by the way. So starting in 1887, the Dawes Act required most tribes to allot their land, turning their collectively owned land into individual parcels. This forced many Native families to compete with one another to lease out their land for drilling, then driving down the prices. But because the Osage had purchased their territory,

the government couldn't make them split it up if they didn't want to. In order for the Osage to allot their land, the U.S. had to negotiate with them. And despite their resistance to allotment, the Osage knew they had to meet the government halfway. After all, they were well aware that the U.S. government was willing to resort to violence if they couldn't make a deal. So, the Osage Nation decided they were willing to allot the surface of their land, but they insisted on keeping their mineral rights in a collective trust. Which was really, really smart of them. Most landowners never, ever think about mineral rights at all, but maybe more of them should.

If you own land, you almost certainly purchased the surface rights. That means you can do whatever you want above the ground within reason, like build a house if you get a permit or keep livestock if you follow zoning laws. But there's a good chance that you don't own the subsurface mineral rights. That means the right to extract whatever resources are, underground like oil or gold. If you own the surface rights, but not the mineral rights, an oil company could just show up with a valid lease and notify you that they plan to drill on your property. Now, in some states, including Oklahoma, their right to drill would supersede your surface rights, although I will say they would have to pay you damages if they displaced

you. And the Osage weren't about to let that happen. The tribe, hired a top lawyer to negotiate the language of their treaty. He ended up writing mineral rights into U.S. law for the very first time. Yep, this entire system, which we're still using today, traces back to the Osage allotment, and it soon made the tribe very rich. By the beginning of the 20th century, more deposits were found, and they were gushing with oil. The Osage began handing out more leases to oil companies, and by 1905, there were over 300 wells

in production. Two years later, in 1907, the Osage oil fields were producing over 5 million barrels of oil. The formal allotment of the Osage land took place right around this time, between 1906 and 1907, and it gave birth to something called Head Rights. So through the allotment process, the tribe's land was divided between all 2,229 enrolled members of the Osage Nation. Each person got the surface rights to about 640 acres and a portion of the total profits from the collectively held mineral rights. Essentially, Osage mineral rights became like a corporation with everybody in the tribe, including the kids, as equal shareholders. Each share was called a headwrite.

And those headwrites were more valuable than the Osage could have imagined. With automobiles becoming increasingly popular, oil prices were going through the roof. As the checks began rolling in, life on Osage land changed almost overnight. By 1920, each headwright brought in an estimated $155,000. year in today's money. Keep in mind, most Osage families included two parents and about three children. With five head rights per family, that's about $775,000 a year in today's money. Some Osage people used their head rights to clean up in the stock market. Others bought cattle of their own rather than leasing their pastures to American ranchers. At least one Osage family invested in

thoroughbred racehorses, eventually breeding the 1924 Kentucky Derby winner Black Gold, named after oil, of course. Millions of dollars flowed into Osage County, Oklahoma, while millions of barrels of oil flowed out. All across America, settlers started hearing about the rich, indigenous people in Oklahoma. The Osage really were earning a lot of money, but salacious. tabloid stories stretched that truth to the breaking point. They made the Osage seem greedy, frivolous, and too primitive to know what to do with their wealth. Some people

reading these articles decided they deserve some of that wealth instead, and they were willing to do terrible things to get it. As words spread about the value of the Osage Nation's oil fields, greedy opportunists moved onto the reservation under the guise of leasing grazing land. In reality, they were there to trick their Osage neighbors into giving up their head rights. But at this point, the tribe didn't have time to worry about them because the Osage had a bigger problem, the federal government. According to the 1906 treaty, the U.S. government was responsible for holding the Osage people's oil profits in a trust in distributing them to each headright owner.

That meant American legislators decided how and when the Osage got their cash. And soon, the government wanted even more control. Under the guise of protecting Osage headright holders, Congress decided that most Osage people couldn't be trusted to manage their own money. Around this time, Congress enacted the so-called Guardian program, which was ostensibly meant to help indigenous people like the Osage manage their wealth. In this program, Osage adults deemed incapable of handling their finances were at least. assigned a non-native guardian. These guardians received their wards revenues from the government, then distributed those revenues to their ward however they saw fit.

Osage men and women, many of whom had already raised families and ran thriving businesses, now had to ask their guardians for permission every time they wanted to buy a pair of pants or a tube of toothpaste. Well, you might know about the system, formerly known as guardianship by a whole other name, conservatorship. The system has a legitimate purpose. It's basically to protect people

who aren't mentally capable of taking care of their own money. But it's also really right for abuse. Activists say that elders and people with disabilities often have their assets drained by court-appointed guardians who charge large fees for their service. and sometimes people are forced into conservatorships even when they shouldn't be. And the guardians didn't just control how their Osage ward spent their money, the guardians could funnel it into their own pockets.

If the ward tried to report them, their guardian could just say they were holding on to the money for safe keeping. And most local judges believe them. them, even when Osage wards suddenly started dying. So the best move for Osage people placed under guardianship was to find the closest thing to an honest, decent guardian they could. If they chose well, and if the court system approved of their choice, they had a chance of holding on to their money, or at the very least, their lives.

One of the Osage adults putting their faith in that strategy was a woman named Molly. Born in 1886, she was given the Osage name Wakanthahi Umpa, as well as the English name Molly Kyle, which she used during her Catholic school education. For the purposes of this story, we'll call her Molly because that's how she's described in legal documents related to this case. Like most indigenous people at the time, Molly was forced to attend the Catholic boarding school in an attempt to make her more quote-unquote American. By all accounts, she embraced Catholicism while she was there. Meanwhile, whenever Molly came home, she was back to living a traditional Osage life, attending powwows and participating in spiritual ceremonies.

It must have been difficult to balance these two very different worlds. But at least she had company. Molly was very close to her three sisters, Anna, Rita, and Minnie. But pretty soon, Molly was faced with a new challenge, marriage. At the time, it was custom for Osage people to marry in their early teens. And around the time Molly was 15, her parents arranged for her to wed an Osage boy who went by the English name Henry Rhone. Besides their shared heritage, the couple had very little in common, and because they were sent to separate boarding schools, they didn't get to spend much time together.

Henry went to a school in Pennsylvania, which was described as a torture chamber for native boys. When he returned home, he was suffering from depression and alcoholism. Things only got worse when Henry was appointed a white financial guardian. the guardian immediately put Henry's land up for sale for a fraction of its value and bought most of it himself. After what happened to Henry, Molly decided it was best for them to go their separate ways. We don't know why exactly, but Molly had resources of her own to protect. At this point, she wasn't required to have a guardian and she wanted to avoid one at all costs. Molly and her sisters each owned a headright, and as their bank balances grew, their lifestyles became increasingly lavish.

One of the ways Molly liked to spend her money was on a private taxi. At the time, most women didn't drive cars, including those in the Osage Nation. One of the men, Molly sometimes hired as a driver, was Ernest Burckhardt. Six years, her junior, Ernest was born in Texas as the son of a car. cotton farmer. In 1912 at 19 years old, he decided to strike out on his own as a taxi driver rather than take over the family farm. He headed north to Oklahoma, where he could live with his rich uncle, William King Hale. Ernest brother Byron soon followed. Molly and Ernest got along well, so well, in fact, that Ernest started courting her.

Every time she called him to drive her, he presented his case, and eventually, it worked. Molly agreed to marry him, and they were wed in 1917. Molly was 30, and Ernest was 25. Now, there aren't any surviving records of how the beginning of Molly and Ernest's relationship went, but according to later accounts from their family members, they were in love. Molly was well-educated, pious, and reserved, with plenty of life experience before she ever met Ernest. Unlike most of the other white men around, Ernest was quiet, submissive, and pretty easy to get along with. But it's safe to say that the most important factor was his race.

When Molly and Ernest married in 1917, many Osage citizens were being denied certificates of competency, which forced them into good. guardianships. If Molly had married an Osage man, it's likely both spouses would have needed court-appointed guardians. Molly had already seen how badly that could go after what happened to her first husband, Henry. So Molly chose Ernest as both her husband and her guardian. She probably felt like he was one of the few white men she could trust at the time. But Molly had no idea that Ernest's uncle, William King Hale, had masterminded the whole marriage. William was known around town by his self-styled nickname, King of the Osage Hills. His primary source of income was from his vast herds of cattle, but he also owned shares

in a bank, a local general store, and a funeral home. It seemed like he intended to purchase every Osage acre and local. business he could. Of course, there was one thing he couldn't buy, no matter the price. O'Sage Head Rights. And he didn't seem interested

in becoming someone's guardian. So William came up with a plan to bring head rights into the family by encouraging Ernest to court Molly. It didn't take much convincing for Ernest to get on board. Once Molly and Ernest were together, it seemed like they were

genuinely happy. A year after tying the knot, they welcomed their first child, Elizabeth. Ernest was gentle and nurturing with both Molly and the baby. They were building a nice life together. She saw her sisters regularly and celebrated Mass at her favorite church on the reservation every Sunday. Then tragedy struck. In 1918, Molly's sister Minnie died of a quote, wasting illness. At the time, diseases like tuberculosis were called wasting illnesses because of how victims suddenly lost weight and seemed to waste away. But Minnie was only 29. She was young and healthy and hadn't shown any signs of being sick before. In the past, the Osage had lost many of their own two diseases like smallpox.

They were used to being helpless in the face of disease. But while Minnie's death didn't raise too many eyebrows, Molly must have at least been a little bit suspicious, especially because there were already whispers about a killer on Osage land. And when another one of Molly's sisters suddenly died, she couldn't deny it any longer. Someone was targeting their family. Every day, something remarkable happened in history, and on History Daily, they tell the fascinating stories of what happened on that day.

New episodes drop every weekday, each one under 20 minutes. That means you can start and finish a show anytime you need a quick hit of history. The stories cover it all, famous battles, fashion firsts, medicine, science, technology, religion, politics, sports, everything that made us who we are today. And here's the best part. Even if you think you know what happened on a certain day, you'll likely be surprised by the hidden details and amazing facts you've never heard before, because at the heart of every episode is a simple truth. History is human. History daily goes beyond names and dates to uncover the overlooked and forgotten human stories behind the events that shaped our world. Discover the past in a whole

whole new way. Listen to History Daily wherever you listen to podcasts. In the spring of 1921, 34-year-old Molly Burkhart had her hands full. She and Ernest now had two children, their three-year-old daughter, Elizabeth, and a one-year-old son named James. On top of looking after her two children, Molly was also taking care of her own mother, Lizzie, who now lived with them. At 72 years old, Lizzie had been dealing with a mysterious chronic illness for years now. Molly worried about her health and her sisters often came over to Molly's house to check on their mother. One night in May 1921, Molly's sister, 36-year-old Anna Brown, was visiting. Anna had recently gotten divorced and was enjoying her new life as a single woman. She often went out dancing, sometimes not

coming home until the morning. That evening at Molly's house, Anna was drinking. When it was time to go, she seemed too tipsy to make her own way home. Luckily, Ernest's brother Byron was around and offered to drive Anna home, which seemed like a nice gesture, until Molly and the rest of her family realized that Anna never made it there. A week later, Anna's body was found in a ravine, an autopsy revealed that she'd been shot in the back of the head. When questioned about it, Byron insisted that he'd safely brought Anna home. He said she must have wandered off after he left and ran into some unsavory people who then killed her. Whatever the truth was, Molly was beside herself with grief.

Now she'd lost two sisters and one of them was murdered. One of the first people to reach out with condolences was William King Hale, Molly's uncle-in-law. He called Anna a mighty good friend and promised to help catch Anna's killer. Molly offered a $2,000 reward for information on her sister's murderer. That's about $35,000 today. But nobody stepped forward to claim it. When that didn't work, William offered a reward too. But he wasn't just looking for Anna's killer.

He also wanted information on the murder of a man named Charles Whitehorn. Charles, who was also Osage, was shot dead in May 1921, right around the same time as Anna. This wasn't out of character for William. He was always making grand gestures to pretend he cared about the Osage people. He donated money to Osage schools and hospitals and even volunteered as a deputy sheriff. which meant he had to say in who was prosecuted for their crimes and who was allowed to go free. There were vague rumors about William conning people out of money and even committing insurance fraud, but he was too powerful in Osage County for anyone to make that kind of accusation openly.

It was the kind of thing people only talked about behind closed doors. Maybe at Williams urging, police took action quickly, at least when it came to Charles. Investigators believed he was killed for his head right by his widow, a woman of white and Cheyenne ancestry, and her white companion. This is a pretty dark topic, but it also is a financial one. Now, murdering someone to inherit their estate is one of the oldest schemes known to man, but it has gotten a lot harder to do.

In 1889, the New York Court of Appeals created the Slayer rule. Broadly speaking, it means convicted murderers can't inherit anything from their victims, which seems so obvious, right? Well, at first, it only applied to the state of New York, but eventually nearly every U.S. state, including Oklahoma, passed its own Slayer statutes. The thing is, it would have been hard to enforce those rules on native land. Until very recently, tribal police could detain and arrest non-natives for crimes committed on reservations,

but they couldn't prosecute them. Only the U.S. federal government could do that. When it came to Charles' death, the local authorities did their best to bring his killers to justice, but neither his widow nor her companion would confess, and eventually the police dropped the case. no one was ever convicted, which meant she was free to inherit his head right. As for Anna, a coroner's inquest briefly questioned Byron, but he swore he dropped her off at home safely. No one could prove otherwise. Without any other leads, the police dropped her case as well.

Molly felt hopeless, but she didn't have much time to grieve before another tragedy distracted her. In July 1921, just two months after Anna's murder, her mother Lizzie passed away. But rather than falling apart, Molly turned to her only surviving sister Rita for support. Like Molly, Rita was married to a white man, Bill Smith. Now, Bill had actually been married to Minnie, Molly's other sister who had died three years earlier. After Minnie's death, Bill married Rita, which might have seemed. a little suspicious, but Bill seemed to truly have Rita's best interests at heart, and after Minnie's tragic death, he was, by all appearances, terrified of losing Rita too, especially because

he suspected that both Minnie and her mom Lizzie hadn't died of natural causes. Bill believed they were poisoned, probably by the same person. Bill shared his suspicion. Bill shared his suspicions with Molly. He told her he thought the killer was after the family's head rights. Following many and Anna's deaths, Lizzie had inherited both of their head rights. So at the time of Lizzie's death, she had four, including her own and her late husbands. In 1921, that would have brought in about $632,000 in today's money. When Lizzie died, Molly and Reese, and Reese, Rita inherited most of that income. If there was a killer out there, either sister could be next, giving one of them the entire

family's head rights. And there were only two people who stood to benefit from that. Rita and Molly's respective husbands, Bill and Ernest. But if Bill was the murderer, why was he the one calling for an investigation? And why would he be so worried about becoming a... victim himself. As for earnest, Molly knew him. She trusted him.

And besides, he just didn't seem like the type. He rarely made decisions of his own, usually relying on Molly or his uncle William to make decisions for him. It was impossible for Molly to imagine her weak-willed husband having the guts to kill three people, especially when he was already living in luxury, thanks to Molly's head Not to mention, he was by her side, comforting her through all of her tragic losses. He couldn't have possibly been involved. But then, Molly started to get sick.

She was diabetic and sometimes had periods of poor health, but this new illness didn't feel like diabetes. In fact, her symptoms were eerily identical to the ones both Minnie and Lizzie reported before they died. if mollie didn't want to be next she knew she had to find a way out of this mess even if it meant going after her own husband thanks so much for listening i'm carter roy and this is scans money and murder if you enjoyed this episode you can check out more just like it by searching for murder true crime stories wherever you get your podcasts. Scams, money, and murder is a crime house 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 murder true crime stories wherever you get your podcast. And to enhance your listening experience, subscribe to Crime House Plus on Apple Podcasts. You'll get every episode of Murder, True Crime Stories, ad-free, along with early access to each thrilling two-part series and exciting bonus content. We'll be back next Thursday. Crimes of is a weekly series that explores a new theme, each season, starting with the crimes that inspired Hollywood's most iconic horror villains. Follow crimes of wherever you get your podcasts, or find them on YouTube at Crimehouse Studios. New episodes out every Tuesday.