My Favorite Murder with Karen Kilgariff and Georgia Hardstark - MFM Minisode 73

Episode Date: June 4, 2018

This week’s hometowns include a cocaine story and a great-great-grandma’s deathbed confession.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

We at Wondery live, breathe and downright obsess over true crime and now we're launching the ultimate true crime fan experience, Exhibit C. Join now by following Wondery, Exhibit C on Facebook and listen to true crime on Wondery and Amazon Music, Exhibit C. It's truly criminal. Hello. Hi. And welcome to my favorite murder the mini I sewed. This is where we read your crazy funny stories back to you. This is the easy one. This is easy for us. God, we love this one. Oh, let's get to it. Damn it. Here you go first. Okay, then I'll read the one that says. What just happened? You like had your pen out. I had it all ready. This happens every time. Everything was ready. I have a problem with spatial organization. The subject line of this one is

that time I accidentally did cocaine for the FBI. Hey, y'all. All that already. Perfect. All of it's perfect. It's an early Friday afternoon and our chief, she's fucking in it. She's like look, she knows we don't want anything else. It's an early Friday afternoon and our unit chief gets a call that a high priority piece of evidence is being flown down to us on the FBI jet. Apparently a plane that landed at Boston's Logan airport was subjected to a TSA dog search team for explosives and one of the dogs sat when he walked by the plane's bathroom, meaning that he had sniffed out explosives. Good boy, our girl. The handlers did some digging around and found white powder hidden in one of the compartments near the toilet. They freaked out

that the dog had found explosives, contacted the FBI for help and got the case started. Fade back to me. Fade back to me. Fade back. In Quantico, Virginia. Oh, this is an email from Clarice Sterling. Fade back to me in Quantico, Virginia. The newest chemist in the forensic laboratory explosives unit. Oh my God. Loving it. Day one. I miss eager beaver wanting to fight crime and do my part to save the world. Amen. Meanwhile, all my seasons in parentheses may be jaded. Co-workers look at their watches, see that it's three o'clock on a Friday afternoon, dump the assignment on the new girl and get in later days out of there. I open the box and find a large block of packed white powder right off the bat. I think this is kind of strange because the field agent mentioned

that they thought it was an explosive called PETN. Those are all capital letters. Okay. PETN. PETN. It's not PETN manning. Sorry. Did you just make that up? I made it up and I did it like that's what you do, but you do it like really fast and conversationally. I'm impressed. I just struggled like a, like a drowning man to find PETN manning. But we're getting there. We're getting somewhere. It's not common to find large blocks of PETN per standard protocol. I weigh the material and recorded in my evidence book, 500 grams. The first chemical test I do is called the burn test. You take a small amount of suspected explosive in a little metal spoon and you hold a lighter underneath. And if the substance is an explosive or other accelerant. That's also how you smoke meth.

Right. It will burn. So if it's an explosive or an accelerant, it'll burn. If it doesn't burn, it means it's not an accelerant or it's mixed with some kind of stabilizer. When I hold the lighter up to this stuff and it doesn't burn, it kind of melts. Then it bubbles a little bit. You can probably see where I'm headed here. Slightly confused by that result. I take a small amount of powder over to one of our super fancy test machines called an ATR. For about a minute, I'm waiting while the computer does its magic waiting. Then the results come back. 99.99 percent, seven percent positive match for cocaine. That's pure shit. Right. Yes. That's right. I adjust free based cocaine in a lab at the FBI. Oh my God. And now I'm all alone with half a kilo of cocaine.

Oh my God. On a Friday afternoon, Newby and the group not knowing what to do. Luckily I managed to track down a chemist in the drug unit down the hall and fill him in on the details. He takes some of the powder and performs a chemical odor, a chemical color test confirms that it is indeed cocaine and locks it in the drug safe. The icing on the cake is that while he was doing the color test, I noticed that my lips were feeling numb. Oh my God. Apparently a side effect of free basing cocaine. That's like the purest cocaine too. Yeah. Oh, but I don't know if that meant that was the purity or if it was the match. Shut up. I get it. But I love your dream of totally pure cocaine. Like straight out of the tree. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. From Columbia. That's my thought.

Pulled fresh from the ground in Columbia. I caught the agents in Boston to fill them in on my results and guess what? Their explosive sniffing dog was newly trained after a former career as you guessed it, a drug sniffing dog. Yeah, boy. Moral of the story, dogs may be really fucking smart, but they definitely aren't specific. Anyway, the following Monday, I had to fill out a statement about what happened just in case I got sent for a random drug test. Oh my God. Needless to say, my co-workers had a lot of fun at my expense for quite some time after that. Thanks so much for reading my story, say sexy, don't get murdered, and don't free base unknown white powders. Lydia. Oh, Lydia, that's fucking cool. That's good shit. You're cool. That's that good pure shit that she just sent us. Yeah,

she sent us that 99.9%. We just rubbed that shit on our gums. Thanks, Lydia. Okay, this is called Great Great Grandma's Deathbed Confession. Yes. Hey guys, I was recently having a text conversation with my mom when out of nowhere she texts, you know, your great great grandma confessed on her deathbed that she poisoned her hubby, to which I replied, what? Tell me everything. Her husband, whose nickname was Blackjack, was always spending all their money on his vices, cheating on her, and coming home at 2am drunk off his rocker. He would demand that she get up and make him something to eat upon his return every morning. And being a dutiful wife of the 1940s, she would get up and feed him afterwards. This is before Del Taco. I know, right? Yeah. Which, by the way,

Vince has already offered to bring me home tonight. Oh, you got to. Is he poisoning me then? No, he's loving you. Okay. Afterwards, he would pass out on the kitchen floor and she would go back to bed. They also had two young children. He was never around. And when he was, he was always drunk. So one morning he came home around 3am, smelling of women's perfume and lipstick smears on his face, reeked of cigars and alcohol. Ooh, cigars. Cigars. And it's been his entire paycheck that he received that afternoon. Oh, two. I know. Like, can you be a more typical fucking? He once again demanded that she get up and cook him some food. So she got up, cooked him a meal like he wanted and added a special ingredient called poison. Shit. When he passed out on the kitchen floor, she just left

him there. The next morning she called the police an ambulance and an ambulance claiming she had found him dead in the kitchen. Since Blackjack had a notoriously bad reputation around town and forensics wasn't a thing yet, they just assumed he died of his vices. My great-great-grandmother never remarried and being the devout Catholic she was, spent her entire life praying for forgiveness but never confessed until she lay dying at age 97. Shit. I'm 42 years old and my mother just told me the story. I wonder what other juicy secrets my mother's keeping from me. My investigation is ongoing. S-S-T-G-M Mandy. Yes, Mandy. Oh, my God. I love that, like, well, it's also just, we sit on this show telling horrible stories that we have the exact opposite feeling of.

And then you get one story that it's like, that was my great-great-grandmother and you're like, yeah, fuck yeah. Yeah. And it's like, okay. Yeah. We got it. I don't mind. Yeah. Got away with it. Yeah. All right. Your turn. Ready? Mm-hmm. You're ready to write the same one over. I'm like, I can't do papers anymore. I don't know why. Garbage, this subject line is garbage men are first responders too. Ooh. Yeah. Hey, my mom grew up in the Bronx and was in the second grade during the mid-60s. And like every other seven-year-old, she was walking home the few blocks to go home for lunch alone. Oh, my God. Why was she walking alone in the Bronx? Why were the Catholic school nuns allowing her to go home for lunch? My mind is blown at how trusting the world was.

Is it trusting or stupid or just didn't give a single shit about children? Yeah. Giving a shit about children we've said it before is very new. Yeah. It's from the 80s. Yeah. And it's just because they figured out they could make money off of us because of Pac-Man. The reason this is probably, oh, the reason this is probably frowned upon today is because of that bad shit, the bad shit that happened when children were allowed to do these things, cute potential kidnapper. As my mom was walking, an older kid grabbed her by the arm and said, you're coming with me. In retrospect, my mom thinks this kid was probably only about an eighth grade boy. But at the time, he seemed like the most terrifying man on earth. Uh-huh. As the boy

begins to lead her away, she's seven years old. I know. My mom is in shock crying, resisting the boy. This next sentence is all caps. Well, who should save the day other than the local garbage man out on his daily duties? The man saw my mother in distress and approached both her and the boy when asked what was wrong. The boy quickly jumped in and said that this was his little sister and she was just being difficult. But the garbage man all caps again. But garbage man saw past his life. Yes, garbage man. Seriously. Sanitation worker. Sanitation worker. This guy, oh yeah, this was back in the 60s, so they were still called garbage man. That's probably how the mom told the story. Right. Seriously, this guy must have been a clever as fuck because his response was,

I'd like each of you to whisper your last name into my ear right now. Which could seem creepy, but it's not because he's saving the day. That's exactly right. It can't go in every direction at all times. Yeah, but my brain does. When the boy would only respond with it's the same as hers. Oh, and refused to give up the last name. The garbage man somehow convinced the boy. It was in his best interest to leave my mother alone right away. And he did. The garbage man made sure my mom made it home safely. Was it really safer to trade an eighth grade boy out for an unknown man? Not sure. But in this case, he is the hero. They did it too. It's not just huge, Jilda. I love it. My mom doesn't remember much other than being so scared. She literally

pissed her pants and that her mother showed very little mercy and actually made her walk back to school after lunch. Again, what the fuck is this world? However, her respect for garbage men remains to this day. And she has been sure to instill the same respect in me as well. You never know when you're a garbage man or what did you say? Maybe come your first responder. You know, that's fucking true because sanitation workers are out on the street early in the morning. Eyes and ears. I bet it fucking happens all the time. I bet. Eyes and ears. Love the show. You guys make me look like an idiot as I laugh out loud at how relatable you are while I'm driving my car. Stay sexy. Don't get murdered and be nice to your garbage man, Jackie. Jackie, you made us laugh out loud. Yeah,

that was awesome. Good job. Also, I love that it's maybe that's the thing that people tell those stories and the stories that don't get heard is back then because children were out wandering. Yes, there were pervs and bad things happened, but also there were people who were paying attention. Yeah. That's kind of nice to hear one of those stories. All the people who didn't get murdered. Yeah. And didn't murder. A hundred percent. This one's called that time and escaped murderer got loose in our town. Hello, both human and nonhuman acquaintances. Have I got a story for you? When I was a sophomore in high school, we got put on lockdown. It turns out that a convicted murderer broke out of a vehicle that was transporting him from prison to an airport nearby.

That's the movie The Fugitive. Oh, shit. The prisoner was Derek Kaposi, who was convicted in 2005 for assisting them, assisting in the murder and then chopping up Iceland's Sylvan, wait, Iceland Silva in Massachusetts after the gang was worried she would cooperate with authorities. I think this is like a hitman thing. Oh, yeah. Is that what you're thinking? No. Good. I thought this was similar to one you read, remember where the girl goes to court with her reporter boyfriend and then his board and then that's the thing, but it's probably not the same. Somehow he unlocked the back of the van, got out of his shackles, hopped out and hid. Now, rural Kentucky is not equipped to handle the fuckery of an ex mafia slash drug gang escapee.

We didn't go to school for a few days, but our entertainment was watching the news reporting on news sightings. I shit you not. This one guy saw him and thought he was just a really big muskrat. Question mark, question mark, question mark. I can't find the clip, but it was incredible. Someone please fucking tweet that to us. After three days, they hadn't caught him, so they assumed he was gone and we returned to school. When they did finally catch him, he was found in a dentist's office before they had opened. It was literally across the street from my high school. Whoa. They checked the computer he was on in the office and his history consisted of Google Maps and porn. Stay sexy and don't move to a rural town near an airport,

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it so easy and also makes it so that my food tastes good, which is hard to do on my own. It gives you everything, everything you need. So get up to 20 free meals with purchase plus free shipping on your first box at hellofresh.ca slash murder20 with code murder20. That's up to 20 free meals plus free shipping on your first box when you go to hellofresh.ca slash murder20 and use code murder20. Goodbye. Hey, I'm Arisha and I'm Brooke and we're the hosts of Wondery's podcast Even The Rich where we bring you absolutely true and absolutely shocking stories about the most famous families and biggest celebrities the world has ever seen. Our newest series is all about the incomparable diva Whitney Houston. Whitney's voice defined a generation and even after her death

her talent remains unmatched, but her incredible success hit a deeply private pain. In our series Whitney Houston Destiny of a diva will tell you how she hid her true self to make everyone around her happy and how the pressure to be all things to all people led her down a dark path. Follow Even The Rich wherever you get your podcasts. You can listen ad free on the Amazon music or Wondery app. This last one is actually if you all remember from it isn't that long ago. I don't think last week's Ireland show. Okay. The live show we posted would be last week. Yeah. And I did the Stony Bet and Strangler which is also known as Billy in the Bowl. Right. So we got an email subject line Billy in the Bowl from one Bobby A. Hearn who I talk a Hearn as corrected on the pronunciation

of that. But I talked about him because I learned most of the story of Billy in the Bowl and the Stony Bet and Strangler from this guy who just tells stories. He tells local Dublin stories on a video series on YouTube and he's a charming lovely man. So here's the email. Hi Karen and Georgia. This is Bobby a Hearn from Dublin whose video you excited in your discussion. I wish he had recorded this because I bet his fucking accent so good. Right. It's the best. Well you can look at it. You can look him up on YouTube. Okay. But it's really like this. You know it's really it's really like that. Oh did I say Stony Batten. It's Stony Batter. This is Bobby a Hearn from Dublin whose video you cited in your discussion of the Stony Batter Strangler.

I was very excited when I heard that you had been yapping about Billy. That is the perfect word for it. And I really enjoyed finally getting to hear it yesterday. Oh my god. He heard it. I actually have a book that I wrote about Billy and a ton of other interesting characters from Dublin history. Then he does a live link. But here if you want to look up his book I would recommend it. He's a very interesting personalist to talk to. So I bet reading his words would be good too. It's H-T-T-P-S calling forward slash forward slash Bobby a Hearn which is B-O-B-B-Y-A-H-E-R-N-E dot com forward slash my dash book. Okay. The majority of them are not murders and then in parentheses all caps. Sorry. Sorry. But I'd love to get a couple copies to you. Yes. As a thank you

for the mention. If you think you'd be into that hit me with an address and I'll send them on over smiley face. Cheers Bobby. Oh Bobby. I love that. I love when people we mentioned on the podcast don't get mad at us. I know and also I and we've talked about this before. I always forget. Yeah. It's going to be released to the public and then all those people like I've had friends who go ever since you mentioned me on the podcast like people keep talking about it like Paul Dainty when I was like Paul Dainty is going to come to the Halloween show. And then he texted me that I'm like I'm sorry I have no memory of what you're talking about and then he had to tell me what we didn't know this was going to be a thing. We still don't

know it's a thing. We're still trying to get it wrapped our brains wrapped wrapped for. We think we're just talking to our friends because we are. That's right. Turns out there's a lot of you. Yeah. I think it's best to not really take it in. I agree. I'll just but I am going to stop saying lascivious things about professional investigators I see on television. That's never happening again. I will fucking assure you. I think that it was a positive outcome. Oh good point. Yeah. Positive but embarrassing outcome. Well listen you're fucking sacrificing yourself. Look I give it all. I give it all for the holes. Thanks for listening. Send your stories to my favorite murder at Gmail. I think it's a good

idea if you have garbage man stories. Oh sorry. Sanitation worker stories. If you're a sanitation worker and you found I want to know the crazy shit you found as a sanitation worker. Yeah we've asked for this once before haven't we. Well I didn't give my needs weren't met so clearly I need you to clearly there's no sanitation workers listening to this because they have fucking hard jobs and when they get done they don't want to listen to stupid women. What was it yapping. Yapping but I would argue and if you know a sanitation worker that you can make this argument to what better to go along with the grinding noise of your dump truck crushing garbage in the back then it's a couple of gals with vocal fry yapping. A hundred percent.

They might like it. That's exactly right. Goodbye. Thanks for listening. Oh thanks for listening. Stay sexy. Don't get murdered. Goodbye. Now we say goodbye. Elvis want cookie. Ah. Oh boy.