RedHanded - Episode 315 - Christian Gerhartstreiter: The Talented Mr Mountbatten

Episode Date: September 14, 2023

In 1994, in the back garden of a house on Lorain Road, San Marino, California – workers accidentally unearthed a shallow grave containing dismembered human remains. Investigators were convinced that the discovery had something to do with a charming British man who’d lived at the property a decade before. Not only had he been a member of the British royal family, a celebrated actor, a director, an art collector, a physicist and a naval captain… but he was also a member of the Rockefeller family – with the same social security number as serial killer David Berkowitz…Today’s case covers the sociopathic life of the conman, kidnapper and murderer, Christian Gerhartstreiter – who some have called the real-life Talented Mr. Ripley.To vote for us at the British Podcast Awards, click here: https://www.britishpodcastawards.com/votingTo nominate a challenge, as well as a case for the bonus episode if we win gold, click here: https://forms.gle/BG7suAW7a4sUPZxr8Follow us on social media:InstagramTwitterVisit our website:WebsiteSources available on redhandedpodcast.comSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

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And welcome to Red Handed. With no Mabel. Oh my God. I know. Listen, listen listen everyone just listen our feet are safe because um sometimes mabel will be in here and then she loves to do this thing where she just runs over and bites my feet and i can see her coming and it's just like and then i will scream because they are sharp little baby teeth. Yeah. And then the lovely producers that we have at Red Handed will be editing away and they'll suddenly all just be like script intercut with me screaming into their ears.

But we're not going to have any of that today. No. It's kind of sad. Mabel's at Casper's house. That's the dog sitter's dog. That's very cute. They're friends. I think this is very good for Mabel.

I think it's very good for me as well. She went there yesterday and apparently was very well behaved. There was Casper there, who's the dog sitter's dog, and then another dog that they were looking after and she was fine. Did a very, very tiny little wee, but only one. And... Ham wheel. Yeah, exactly.

And then I dropped her off again at lunchtime today and she was fucking buzzing. She was so excited to be there. So that is a weight off again at lunchtime today and she was fucking buzzing. She was so excited to be there. So that is a way off my mind. That is so good. Well, congratulations. Thank you. I cannot think of a way to segue into this, but that might be because I haven't eaten lunch. So I'm not on top mental performance, but I'm going to give it my damn best. Let's try. Not the segue, just the episode. On the morning of the 5th of May 1994, in the back garden of 1920 Lorraine Road, San Marino,

California, a group of workers had been digging a swimming pool for the new owners when the bulldozer hit something hard. The machine had cracked open a fiberglass box which had been buried just four feet deep. A shallow grave. Inside this fibreglass box were four plastic bags. Three contained the dismembered skeletal remains of a man, and the fourth contained his skull. What the fuck was going on? Well, a whole lot, as investigators and the new owners of this house on Lorraine Road

would soon discover. The house with the now-abandoned swimming pool plans had quite the dark past. It's not what you want to find out, and it doesn't turn up in the surveyor's report. I'm sure it does not. I'm currently having a level three survey conducted on this property I bought, but one of the checkboxes on the list of things they look for is not, are their bodies buried in the garden? Is there a sense of impending doom? That should be a tick box. Yeah, so it's just like boiler, roof.

Doom. Cellar, doom. Levels of doom. So yes, quite the dark past. Because almost a decade before, a newlywed couple who'd lived at the property had mysteriously vanished. It was around the same time that a charming British man named Christopher Mountbatten Chichester was also staying there. And this guy, Christopher Mountbatten Chichester, had been quite the talk of the town. He was a member of the British Royal Family, a celebrated actor, a director, an art collector,

a physicist, a naval captain, and a member of the Rockefeller family. And he had the same exact social security number as serial killer David Berkowitz. Today's case is the tale of the sociopathic escapades of the conman, kidnapper and murderer, Christian Gerhardt-Strider. We have practiced the surname, that's as good as it's going to be. And this guy, Christian G, has also been called by quite a few people out there, and I would agree with this,

the real-life talented Mr. Ripley. So we can just call him Mr. G, like some high time. Let's call him that. Great. Welcome to Mr. G's room. His name also changes basically every page of the script. So don't think about it too hard, listener. Christian Karl Gerhard Streiter was born on the 21st of February 1961 in the small town of Bergen in Bavaria, West Germany, which is very British royal family of him, to be a German. Quite, quite. His father was an artist,

and his mother was a seamstress. The town of Bergen was all sprawling green pastures and mountainous landscapes. But there wasn't exactly much going on. Bergen's Wikipedia page is 12 words long. I think we should start measuring the relevance of every town or location we come across by the word count of a Wikipedia. 12 is down there. It really is, isn't it? Bergen has a

population of just a few thousand people, so evidently it was the kind of place where everybody knew everybody. And at that time in history, Bergen was the kind of place that nobody ever left. But young Christian was always convinced that he was bigger than Bergen, and he did anything he could to stand out from the humdrum crowd. This included wearing a three-piece business suit to school. Do you know who else did that? Jeffrey Epstein. Jacob Rees-Mogg. So, as you can see, delusions of grandeur started very early on with this boy.

He'd often say that everything in Bavaria was total shit, and his friends would mock him for his dream to one day make it in America. But his friends were not laughing for long. How would a German person laugh? Because we can do ha ha ha for the French. And genuinely, when we went to Canterbury the other day

and there was like those French people sat just like past the door to us. One time the door just opened when the waitress walked through and all I heard was ha ha ha ha ha.

I was like, guys, please, you're mean. How would a German person laugh? You're better at accents than me. I don't know. Do your Arnold Schwarzenegger accent. Tell me you're bigger than Bergen. And one day you're going to make it in America.

I'm not very good at Arnold. Do the chocolate line as a tuning. Oh, yeah. Oh, don't make me run. I'm too full of chocolate. Oh, I'm bigger than Bergen. And one day I'm going to make it in America. Okay, got it.

That's how German people are. It's a process. We just had to get there. Oh my God. So yes, they were not ho-ho-hoing for very long. Berlin, please keep listening. Because one day in the summer of 1978, age 17 years old,

Christian announced that he'd got himself a job as a radio DJ in New York City. Nobody really knew what to make of this, but what they did know for sure was that Christian talked a whole lot of shit. And they weren't wrong. They were actually the opposite of wrong. They were right. So earlier that summer, Christian had struck up conversation on a train

with a young American boy who was interrailing around Europe. Though he can't have been properly interrailing because you can't buy an interrailing pass unless you're from Europe, I believe. Oh, really? I believe that is the case. Or it's a lot cheaper. It might be that. It might be that it's a lot cheaper. So this boy had a name and his name was Peter.

And Christian immediately offered to be Peter's tour guide for Bavaria. The pair then spent the day together scoffing worst and drinking steins. All the while, Christian was eyeing Peter as his ticket to the US of A. Christian claimed to be from a wealthy German family, and told Peter that his father was an industrialist who held a very senior position at Mercedes-Benz. When the time came for the pair to say goodbye, Peter was so taken by his charming German tour guide that he happily agreed to exchange contact information and told Christian, this is a big uh-oh,

if you're ever in Meriden, Connecticut, come and stay. And this was, of course, just the sort of friendly throwaway nicety that we've all probably said before to a stranger abroad after a few drinks. And we most definitely would not expect them to actually take us up on that offer after just a few weeks of meeting. But that's exactly what Christian did. It's also what Hans Christian Andersen did to Charles Dickens. Yes, I remember. Maybe it's a German thing. Was Hans Christian Andersen German? No, he's Danish. Danish, that's it.

So having told his parents that he was off to become a DJ in New York, Christian's mother agreed to send him $250 a month until he was settled. So the 17-year-old then filled out his six-month US tourist visa and made his way to Connecticut. He only stayed with Peter's quite surprised family for a few weeks, but that was all Christian needed to kick-start his American dream. He then posted an ad in a newspaper claiming to be an exchange student in need of a place to stay.

This caught the eye of high school librarian Gwen Savio, who invited Christian to live with her and her children in the aptly named town of Berlin, Connecticut. Christian once again introduced himself as the son of a wealthy industrialist. Gwen's eldest son helped Christian enrol at Berlin High School as a senior, unaware that he'd already graduated in Germany. Right from the start, it was clear to everybody that met him that Christian wasn't like other teenagers at all.

He loved listening to classical music and speaking at length with Gwen's lawyer husband about stocks, bonds, banking. Fucking snore, Jesus. Something he knew, oddly, a lot about. Christian came across as more mature and seemingly more sophisticated than his peers. And he was certainly putting in the work to maintain this image.

And this is the work that he was doing because when Christian wasn't at school, he spent most of his time sitting in front of the TV watching Gilligan's Island. I've never watched Gilligan's Island. Me either. But I feel like both of us are aware of it

through our osmosis of US culture in this country. I feel like, if I were to guess, I feel like it's a shipwrecked, isn't this crazy bunch of people kind of thing. And they're all trying to survive on an island. Yes, you are entirely correct. The series follows the comic adventures of seven castaways as they try to survive on an island where they are shipwrecked. Ah, well done.

Well done, us. Hi, I'm Lindsey Graham, the host of Wondery Show American Scandal. We bring to light some of the biggest controversies in U.S. history, presidential lies, environmental disasters, corporate fraud. In our latest series, NASA embarks on an ambitious program to reinvent space exploration with the launch of its first reusable vehicle, the Space Shuttle. And in 1985, they announced they're sending teacher Krista McAuliffe into space aboard the Space Shuttle Challenger, along with six other astronauts. But less than two minutes after liftoff, the Challenger explodes.

And in the tragedy's aftermath, investigators uncover a series of preventable failures by NASA and its contractors that led to the disaster. Follow American Scandal on the Wondery app or wherever you get your podcasts. Experience all episodes ad-free and be the first to binge the newest season only on Wondery Plus. You can join Wondery Plus in the Wondery app, Apple Podcasts, or Spotify. Start your free trial today. Harvard is the oldest and richest university in America. But when a social media-fueled fight over Harvard and its new president broke out last fall,

that was no protection. Claudine Gay is now gone. We've exposed the DEI regime, and there's much more to come. This is The Harvard Plan, a special series from the Boston Globe and WNYC's On the Media. To listen, subscribe to On the Media wherever you get your podcasts. So yeah, Christian would spend hours and hours watching episode after episode of Gilligan's

Island, paying close attention to the mannerisms of one particular character, Thurston Howell III. And this character is apparently the posh millionaire castaway character. So Christian would watch him and basically practiced shedding his German accent in exchange for, once again, in a very, very British royal way, for an uppity British John Wayne hybrid accent. And he even changed his name several times. First to Chris Gerhardt, then to Christopher Kenneth Gerhardt. Soon, Christian's behaviour began to grate on the Salvio family. During dinner, he'd say things like, my father wouldn't let me speak to peasants. He would never eat like this. And he'd also demand that Gwen do his laundry daily. So

after a few months of him being the worst house guest ever, Gwen finally snapped and kicked him out. Christian then spent the rest of the year bouncing around various homes in Connecticut, only leaving once he'd outstayed his welcome. But it didn't matter. Christian was done with Connecticut. Somehow, without having finished high school in the States, Christian managed to get himself accepted to study communications at the University of Wisconsin. Christian, who is now going by Chris Kenneth Gerhardt, then set his eyes on the one document

that would ensure he could stay in the US forever. A marriage certificate. 90 Day Fiancé, here we come. I know. There is a new season of 90 Day Fiancé the other way. And I've watched episode one. Oh, okay. I know.

And I was like, oh my God. Is it all new? Yes. Oh. Oh, the only people that I can see are returns. They make me feel really sick. It's Gino and the crazy Brazilian woman he's with. Whatever her name is.

Oh. The guy who wears a hat and is like. yeah yeah yeah yuck and in the first episode this is so off-piste the first episode she's gone to a doctor what's the thing where they sew a hymen back in what a hymen a graft oh no it's horrible that is horrible and she's just like i want to be a virgin again that should be illegal it's horrendous i'm like that doctor needs to go to prison yeah how is that not female genital mutilation it's gross so anyway check out 90 day fiance the other way the brand new season where you can learn all about that so anyway chris decides to follow a very similar path and he is on the hunt for a wife.

And in a move that would go on to become quite a pattern for him, Christopher started attending church. And it was through this church group that he met his lucky bride, Amy Janine Gersild. Amy was just 22 years old, from a middle-class family. She worked in a deli and earned just over $100 a week. And little did she know it, she was Christian's ticket to his American dream. So how did Christian convince this normal church-going American girl to marry him, a pompous German 19-year-old kid who spoke with a British accent? Well, he told her that unless he stayed in America, he'd be drafted into the German army and sent to the front lines.

In Russia, it was the Cold War. Yeah, Amy's not totally au fait with what's going on. I mean, but they also teach that America won the Vietnam War, so... Potato, potato. So many American minds were just blown. You lost at great cost to yourself. Anyway, his story that he was going to be sent into the trenches of the Cold War by the German army seemed to work. Amy was convinced and they tied the knot. But that same day, Christian jumped in a car and left the state of Wisconsin and his new bride in his rearview mirror. Now 20 years old and legally allowed to stay in the States indefinitely, which is shocking because, like, they just got married and then he abandoned her. Like, how is that long enough for you to just be like, oh, well, I can stay now?

But apparently he can. And Christian used this opportunity to chase his American dream all the way to Los Angeles, California. On the way, he decided he needed a new name, one that expressed old money, preferably British sounding, and one that would command respect. Hannah, what would you go for if you were going to give yourself a new name that was old money, preferably British sounding, and would command respect? Hmm. Elizabeth Delaney. give yourself a new name that was old money preferably british sounding and would command respect hmm elizabeth delaney oh it's very like uh i'm not throwing it in your face i'm just like elizabeth delaney yeah might be a lady elizabeth delaney but i don't flaunt it well oh quite quite

it's not very british nor is our fucking kings or whatever. But the name Christopher decided to go with was Christopher Chichester, which is the correct way to pronounce it. But he, being a German, pronounced it incorrectly and called himself Christopher Chichester. Yeah, no one says Chichester like that. Literally not a single soul. And he was like, do you know what? Christopher Chichester just isn't enough. So he decided to add Mountbatten as his middle name for good measure.

That is going to turn some heads. It's not subtle. No. That is throwing it in people's faces. But I also feel like the Mountbattens, unlike the Saudi royal family, are keeping an eye on who is calling themselves a Mountbatten. Yeah, you can't just be. But then maybe then he's like, it's just my middle name. It's just my middle name. Yeah, maybe.

Middle name, I'm just Christopher Mountbatten Chichester. So the Christian Gerhard Streider, who had moved to Boston at the age of 17, dressed like an American hippie with long shaggy hair, was long gone. He was now Christopher Mountbatten Chichester and dressed like an Ivy League student with clean-cut swept-back hair and he was going to take Hollywood by storm. Or at least that's what he'd tell people. Christopher arrived in California on the 26th of May 1981

and decided to make the blue-blooded old-money town of San Marino his new home. And soon Chris used his faux British accent and new sophisticated persona to charm the pants off the locals. He ensured to embed himself deep in San Marino's community, soon becoming a regular at every city council and Rotary Club meeting. I feel like those things are so fucking boring that you have to be getting something out of it, do you know what I mean?

What's a Rotary Club? It's kind of like a cross between a council and a country club, is my understanding. Okay. We don't really have them in the same way here. It sounds boring. I'm going to double check that I haven't just fucking pulled that out of my asshole. Hold on. What is Rotary Club in simple words?

Noun. club in simple words noun a local club of business and professional men that is a member of a worldwide organization of similar clubs which is called rotary international devoted to serving the community and promoting world peace so essentially they're masons without the underwear serving the community and promoting world peace yeah it sounds pretty masony to me it really does it really does wow feels like a bit of a a budget masons it yes i think so so if you can't be a mason go join your local rotary club it seems that way sure i'd rather join the rotisserie club the rotisserie club i'm so hungry help i'll start a rotary club for you anyway christopher was at every party thrown by the wealthy citizens of the town and pretty soon I'll start a rotary club for you. Anyway.

Christopher was at every party thrown by the wealthy citizens of the town and pretty soon he was a local celebrity. His fame only grew when a story suddenly appeared in the local newspaper in 1982 claiming that Christopher was not only a nephew of Lord Mountbatten but also a descendant of Sir Francis Chichester who I guarantee did not call himself Chichester. But he was the first man to sail around the world. The first woman to hot air balloon around the world is buried in Abney Cemetery. Oh, there you go.

She's got a hot air balloon on her grave. Don't you have like a familial claim to fame of somebody doing something? The first to do something? Or have I made that up in my hunger? What was your grandma? What was Muriel? She was the first. Muriel was the first ever female cashier at natwest there you go there you go

when we still had local high street banks yeah and she helped to build the radar that's cool it is cool she's doing the soldering yes she loves it tour manager ben his grandma was the first woman to drive from the top of africa to the bottom basically that's pretty fucking yeah yeah so that's tour manager ben's grandma nice and she lives in the pacific northwest somewhere well there you go good facts but about nobody you people know no i really had to dig i was like there's something to do with africa and a car and i can't remember who it is but it's ben Ben. So, Christopher's lies were extravagant. At one point, he told everybody that he'd recently inherited the Chichester Cathedral in England

and was considering having it moved to San Marino. This boy is just like, I'm just going to say whatever the fuck I want because these Americans don't know who I am or what I'm talking about. And also, London Bridge was moved to America. What? The one we have now is New London Bridge. The original London Bridge, not Tower Bridge, Fergie, was moved. I'll look it up.

So actual London Bridge now is like super modern. But the original one, London Bridge. Well, why? America. An American bought it. Oh. I didn't know these things were up for sale. It's in Arizona.

Well, who the fuck knew? Yeah, so it was built in 1830, spanned the River Thames, and then they moved it to make Arizona a tourist attraction. How's it going, Arizona? Do people come there to see London Bridge? Maybe, but it's in Lake Havasu.

Let's see how many words the wikipedia page is okay to be fair it does have quite an extensive wikipedia page never mind moving on and it is where london bridge is so it has happened before wow and it'll probably happen again yeah but cathedrals are not generally for sale or up for inheritance i don't even think chichester cathedral is an anglican cathedral, which is what the royal family are anyway. I'm lost. So, the role that Christopher had chosen

for himself to play was so perfect, nobody ever questioned why he drove a battered old car, why his preppy clothes smelled musty, or why he'd always managed to show up at people's houses at mealtimes, saying that he was hungry. Everybody just assumed that that was how rich, old-money, royal, eccentric people behaved. And to be fair, yes, it is.

Look, I mean, you don't stay wealthy by spending your money on lunch. You get someone else to pay for it. Absolutely. Upper-class people do not flash the cash. It's how they stay old money. Exactly. And why they are so disdainful of new-money people. And apparently, the elderly millionaire widows of San Marino

happily handed over thousands of dollars in donations to Christopher's various philanthropic ventures. During his time in San Marino, Christopher lived at the aforementioned 1920 Lorraine Road. At that time, it was owned by San Marino native Didi Sohus, who'd lived there since she was two. Once a debutante and a bright young woman who flew planes as a hobby, Didi's life had taken numerous nosedives. Mainly, sadly, due to her taste in men.

After three failed marriages, the last of which left her a single mother to an adopted six-month-old boy, Didi had spiralled into alcoholism. Her adopted son John grew up as a shy, introverted kid who found solace in computers and playing D&D, which is how, years later, he met the love of his life, Linda Mayfield. John worked as a mid-level computer programmer, and Linda worked at a science fiction bookshop called Dangerous Visions. After falling in love and getting engaged, the couple moved back in with John's mum, Dee Dee. By that point, Dee Dee though was a complete recluse, suffering from dementia and alcoholism. And to make matters worse, Dee Dee also hated Linda and made life for the couple hell. Needless to say, John and Linda were desperate to move out,

but they didn't have enough money to do so. That is, until one day their prayers were seemingly answered. Linda told her best friend that she and John both had been offered top-secret government jobs in New York, and that the pair of them had to leave immediately. This was strange in itself, but all the stranger considering Linda worked behind the desk of a sci-fi bookshop and painted pictures of unicorns in her spare time. High value skills for the Secret Service. But Linda refused to say anything else about her job, but she promised her friend, who was called Sue Kaufman,

that she would be back in two weeks' time for a trip that the pair had planned to a sci-fi convention in Arizona. Maybe they went to see London Bridge on that way. If I ever tell you that I'm going to go do a secret mission for the CIA, I think you should stop me. Okay. You're like, no, you can't do something by yourself. Take me with you.

Just before they left San Marino, Linda dropped off her six cats at a cat hotel. Linda. Yeah, and paid for two weeks of board. She makes me think of Linda's sister, Gail. Yes. Oh my God, yes. And if you don't know what we're talking about, you haven't been watching enough Bob's Baggots. So good.

It is. It just gets better. But after Linda had dropped off all of her cats and two weeks had gone by, there was no sign of the couple. Linda and John's friends were worried and they got in touch with Dee Dee. But all Dee Dee could drunkenly tell them was that they were on a cigar mission.

Oh no. And that that is all she was allowed to say. Two months passed. There was still all she was allowed to say. Two months passed with still no sign of John and Linda. Then, on the 8th of April 1985, police officers turned up at Didi's door. Once again, Didi reported the bizarre explanation that the couple were on a secret mission

and that her source was the only person able to contact them. Later that same day, three Eiffel Tower postcards were delivered in San Marino, with messages saying they'd taken a wrong turn and ended up in Paris. One of these postcards, from Linda and John, strangely went to Linda's mother, who she'd been estranged from for years. It was only five months after John and Linda left that Dee Dee finally revealed to the police who her mystery source was. No prizes for guessing, it was of course Christopher Mountbatten

Chichester. Dee Dee told the police how Christopher had been the one telling her what was happening with the couple, and that they'd gotten a job with a French aerospace company owned by Christopher's family. Okay. Obviously, the police wanted to speak with this Mr. Chichester, but it was too late. By this point, Christopher Chichester was long gone. He'd stayed for about a month after John and Linda had left for their secret mission, and then he'd left San Marino for good. As time went on, poor Dee Dee's mental state declined rapidly and she was taken under the care of a couple called Don and Linda Weatherby.

They owned a trailer park out of town and they cared for her until she died in 1988. And when Dee Dee did die, this couple, Linda and Don, who had no previous connection to Didi at all, became the executors of her estate and inherited $180,000. Let's leave the Weatherby's where they are for a second. We will come back to them, so don't forget. Let's get back to Christopher. He left San Marino in John and Linda's Nissan truck and drove right across America to the East Coast. And in June 1985, he ended up in Greenwich, Connecticut, one of the wealthiest neighbourhoods in the country. There, he started

to introduce himself as Christopher Crowe, the name of a very real executive producer who produced the television series, Alfred Hitchcock Presents. And just as Christopher had successfully done in San Marino, he headed straight for the local church and began a schmoozin'. Soon enough, Christopher began renting a room at 35 Rockridge Road, a three-storey mansion on one of the best roads in the neighbourhood. He then set about on his most ballsy con yet. And it all began at the Indian Harbour Yacht Club in Greenwich. Christopher turned up looking the part, draped head to toe in Burberry, complete with CCC monogrammed on his shirt, because now

remember he is of course Christopher Chichester Crow. People who met him there recalled how he'd walked in as if he owned the place. Christopher knew that if he looked the part and played the part, the sky was the limit. And he was right, because he actually managed to bullshit someone that he met there into giving him a job at the major brokerage firm SN Phelps & Co. And he did it with absolutely no background in finance or even a college degree. I mean, this is life in the 80s, right? Where there's no fucking intray exercise. There's no fucking bullshit like, oh, how many spines are on the back of a porcupine questions, which I got in a fucking interview. You just go to a bloody yacht club and you're like, hey, look at my monogram shirt. Want to give me a job at this, what do you do? Brokerage, sure. I can break

things. Fine. But Christopher's time there would last less than a year because his haughty and arrogant behavior ended up pissing everybody off, including the boss who fired him. But Christopher was undeterred and his high-flying Wall Street career had just begun. In the summer of 87, Christopher Crowe landed himself a job running an entire department at one of Japan's big four brokerage firms, Nikko Securities. There, he was overseeing trades worth millions of dollars and was taking home a salary of $125,000 a year before bonuses. In 1987. Yeah, wow.

How did he do it? Well, he just did what he'd done before. He found himself a well-connected mark. And this time, that happened to be a man called Don Sheehan, an ex-Air Force pilot and veteran of the securities business, who'd been tasked with putting together Nico's New York team. Don was no fool, but he was a sucker for old money. And when he met Christopher at a cocktail party one evening and heard him mention the name Mountbatten... Don, no! Don was putty in Christopher's greasy new money hands. Guys, anyone can say that. Anyone could say that.

And the rate at which the Mountbattens were fucking shagging Indians while they were in there, I could say it. Mountbatten. Susie Mountbatten, QAnon. Yeah, but I couldn't really be Hannah Mountbatten-Maguire because he was assassinated by the IRA. I mean... It doesn't quite work for me.

Tight, tight. Anyway. What's your mum's maiden name? Or is that a security hazard? Jones. Boring as shit, yeah. Does make you sound like a spy, though. Hannah Jones.

Hannah Mountbatten-Jones. At just 26, Christopher had his own huge office with his name on it in the World's Financial Centre in Manhattan and leading a team of 15 seasoned Wall Street vets. Christopher had a six-figure salary, he lived in a mansion in Greenwich and dined at New York's finest restaurants, regularly attending the opera and he spent thousands at designer clothes stores using his Amex under the name CCC Mountbatten. That's a name. CCC Mountbatten. Guys, come on.

Between 1987 and 1988, Christopher really was living the life of a serious Wall Street player. But it didn't take long for people to notice that this kid, although he looked the part in his crisp Brooks Brothers suit, had absolutely no fucking idea what he was doing. And then Christopher's old boss got in touch with Nico Securities and revealed something rather troubling about their new hire's social security number. It belonged to none other than David Berkowitz, a.k.a. the son of Sam, the serial killer who took orders from his dog. But didn't really.

And also it was his neighbour's dog. But he didn't really. He admitted later it was malingering. But yes, I'm really fucking up the lead here. The point is, he's got the same fucking social security number as David Berkowitz. Right. So naturally, Nico Securities fired CCC Mountbatten quite soon after they got this information. Okay. Was it a conscious choice to pick David Berkowitz's social security number?

How did he find out what David Berkowitz's social security number was? Or was it just a freakish accident? I don't know. Like imagine. Either way way it's pretty impressive yeah imagine if somebody just guessed your national insurance number and guessed the national insurance number of like myra hindley like how does that happen how does that happen i'm confused myra hindley's nhs number is 725 guess guess and if you're right i will buy you a rotisserie chicken. But brazen as ever, Christopher wasn't going to let a little thing like being fired from his job at Nico Securities for having the same social security number as David Berkowitz hold him down. He simply walked into the office of Ralph Boynton, the head of international bond operations at the securities firm Kidapibidi and asked for a job. He was well-dressed, polite

and smart and although he'd literally just walked in off the street, Boynton decided to give him a chance. And with that, Christopher had landed his third high-paying Wall Street job with nothing but charm and bullshit. Little did he know, however, his past was about to catch up with him. Two months later, the Greenwich Police received a message from the San Marino Police Department asking for help with a missing persons case. They were, of course, looking for a man named Chris Gerhardstrider, or Chichester, sorry, Chichester, in relation to the disappearances of John and Linda Sowes. The Greenwich detective put on the case was Daniel Allen. Now, Allen didn't think much of the case at first.

Missing persons cases involving adults are not typically a criminal matter. But he had no idea how complicated the truth in this particular story really was. So Allen began by tracking down Christopher Chichester and soon found that he was going by the name Christopher Crowe. When Alan checked DMV records he found that Christopher K Gerhardt Strider's driver's license was expired and his registered phone number had been disconnected and numerous people kept telling him that Crowe was the producer of the TV show Alfred Hitchcock Presents, which only confused things further. They say Hollywood is where dreams are made, a seductive city where many flock to get rich,

be adored and capture America's heart. But when the spotlight turns off, fame, fortune, and lives can disappear in an instant. When TV producer Roy Radin was found dead in a canyon near L.A. in 1983, there were many questions surrounding his death. The last person seen with him was Lainey Jacobs, a seductive cocaine dealer who desperately wanted to be part of the Hollywood elite. Together, they were trying to break into the movie industry. But things took a dark turn when a million dollars worth of cocaine and cash went missing. From Wondery comes a new season of the hit show Hollywood and Crime, The Cotton Club Murder. Follow Hollywood and Crime, The Cotton Club Murder on the Wondery app or wherever you get your podcasts. You can binge all episodes of The Cotton Club Murder on the Wondery app or wherever you get your podcasts.

You can binge all episodes of The Cotton Club Murder early and ad-free right now by joining Wondery Plus. He was hip-hop's biggest mogul, the man who redefined fame, fortune, and the music industry. The first male rapper to be honored on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, Sean Diddy Combs. Diddy built an empire and lived a life most people only dream about. Everybody know ain't no party like a Diddy party, so. Yeah, that's what's up. But just as quickly as his empire rose, it came crashing down. Today, I'm announcing the unsealing of a three-count indictment charging Sean Combs with racketeering conspiracy, sex trafficking, interstate transportation for prostitution. I was f***ed up. I hit rock bottom.

But I made no excuses. I'm disgusted. I'm so sorry. Until you're wearing an orange jumpsuit, it's not real. Now it's real. From his meteoric rise to his shocking fall from grace, from law and crime, this is The Rise and Fall of Diddy. Listen to The Rise and Fall of Diddy exclusively with Wondery+. The trail was getting impossible to follow. And there wasn't much Alan could do.

He couldn't get an arrest warrant for a man for just dodging investigation when there hadn't actually been a crime committed, it seemed. As strange as John and Linda's disappearance was, there was not any evidence of foul play. Adults are allowed to disappear if they want to. Alan then made one last attempt to track down Christopher when he found out that he was working at Kidder Peabody. But somehow, someway, Christopher got wind of this, and he phoned his boss to tell him that he had to leave New York immediately. He said that his parents had been kidnapped in either Pakistan or Japan.

Those are very different places. And that he had to go and rescue them. In December 1988, his Amex card was used for the final time at a Japanese restaurant in New York, and then CCC Mountbatten vanished. Amex just don't give a fuck. They really don't. They don't give a fuck. I was talking to Shelby at lunch about how

stupid it is that in America no one uses Apple Pay and it's their invention. I was like in literal South Africa the petrol station on the side of the road that is selling avocados will take Apple Pay but in New York you're fucked. The US like only just started using chip and pin yeah i remember when i used to go there with my last company you were signing receipts i was like what is madness what is this come on guys get the times for the four years between 1988 and 1992 nobody is entirely sure where chris went records show that he purchased plane tickets for Tokyo and Delhi, but police also suspect that he was lying low in a New York apartment. What we do know, however, is that he re-emerged in 1992

with his final and most infamous identity, Clark Rockefeller. Again, I feel like people know who the Rockefellers are. He can't help it. He's just like Mountbatten, no, no, Rockefeller. Subtle. And he started off his new life in classic Gerhard Strider fashion. At church. Dressed in his usual private club preppy outfit,

Clark Rockefeller walked into St. Thomas Church, a place where New York's new money liked to worship. It was the perfect place for the newly christened Clark to climb New York's social ladder. When he was asked, and you're gonna love this, are you one of the Rockefeller cousins? He'd respond, no, I'm one of the cousins' cousins. And it was at this church where Clark struck gold in the form of one Sandra Lynn Boss. In the spring of 1993, 26-year-old Sandra was working a summer job in New York

while she finished her final year at Harvard Business School. Sandra came to Clark's Clue party, which, like, this just feels like it's always reported as if it's just, like, the most ordinary thing in the world that he was doing this. And obviously it's always reported as if it's just like the most ordinary thing in the world that he was doing this and obviously it's Cluedo they're calling it Clue and it's basically a party where attendees go dressed up as characters from Cluedo right so Clark went as Professor Plum and Sandra of course went as Miss Scarlet well you would wouldn't you yeah no one's gonna be like what's. White. So he chose to be Professor Plum. Yes, he did. He did. So according to Sandra's friends,

when Clark and Sandra set eyes upon each other, it was love at first sight. Sandra had never been successful in love before. She would say that men were intimidated by her intelligence, but Clark was different. And that's probably because he saw big fat fucking dollar signs when he looked at Sandra. And of course, Sandra was also completely spellbound by the idea that a rocker fella was romantically interested in her. Over the next couple of years, their relationship moved pretty quickly. Sandra was so head over heels that she didn't question an inch of this man's insane backstory. Clark told her that he had attended Yale at the age of 14 on account of being a genius

and that his parents had died in a car crash when he was 18. And he's doing this dressed as Professor Plum. He also said that his parents' fortune was all tied up in a bullshit lawsuit against his father who had been falsely accused of embezzlement. He also said that he worked as a debt negotiator for developing nations and he did that out of the goodness of his heart and for free cool i feel like the last thing fucking developing nations need is clark rockefeller is clark rockefeller yeah at a later date when sandra was asked in court how she had believed such a batshit story, she just said,

There is a difference between intellectual intelligence and emotional intelligence. And clearly, I had a blind spot. Oh, Sandra. And blind she was because by the spring of 1994, Professor Plum and Miss Scarlet, Clark Rockefeller and poor old Sandra were engaged. And as so many of us have, Sandra totally ignored the early red flags in their relationship. Clark had shown flashes of temper, and he was clearly useless with money. He told her that he'd settled his dead father's lawsuit, squandering his entire $50 million inheritance in the process,

and he did that to avoid any financial risk when they got married. Once again, Sandra was so blinded by love that she saw this as the most romantic gesture anyone could have ever made for her. At this point, Christian Gerhardt Strider pretty much had Jedi-level mastery at making people believe whatever crazy bullshit came out of his mouth. The following year, in October 1995, Sandra had graduated and was making $80,000 a year at McKinsey. And this is when she married her penniless Rockefeller husband. And it was no ordinary wedding. Clark told Sandra that he'd had to stop going to St. Thomas's Church after they kept hounding him for donations. So he suggested

instead that they have a Quaker wedding. And just in case you don't know, lovely listeners, the convenient thing about Quaker weddings is that you don't have to go through a lot of legal paperwork you need with other kinds of weddings. I didn't know that. No, nor did I. I didn't know that the Quakers felt quite so strongly about paperwork. But there you go. Do you know Letchworth was originally a Quaker town? I did not know that. Yep. So they all came there and they were like,

this shall be our land, Quaker. And then they realised that the soil is just clay and you cannot grow a single thing on it. So they were like, fuck this. And they all left. And then it became a leech farm, which is why it's called Letchworth. Leechworth. So there you go.

Facts. So, yeah, they have this Quaker wedding. And obviously it's great for Clark Rockefeller that they don't need much paperwork because he was, of course, actually a sociopath from Germany called Christian Gerhard Streiter, who may or may not already have murdered two people. The couple still did have to fill out a couple of forms in order to get a marriage license, of course, which Clark then promised to mail off, but of course he never did. There were also only seven people at the wedding, quite unusual for a Rockefeller. And Clark told Sandra that he'd uninvited the rest of the Rockefeller family last minute because of an argument presumably about how he isn't a rockefeller and look i'm not gonna be like this is in any way sandra's fault obviously i'm not victim blaming but if only only only sandra had been a true crime fan

she would have perhaps eight months before this weird-ass Rockefeller Quaker wedding, watched an episode of Unsolved Mysteries, which was titled San Marino Bones. She might have thought a little bit differently about her new husband, Tibby. Since John and Linda Soha's disappearance and the failed subsequent investigation, the only person who never really gave up was Linda's best friend, Sue Kaufman. It was Sue who wrote a letter to Unsolved Mysteries begging them to look into the case. She listed everything weird about their disappearance. The supposed government spy job, the six cats that Linda had abandoned, and John's pickup truck appearing on the other side of the country.

The producers of the show initially declined, but that all changed in May 94. As we said at the top of the show, a team of workers were excavating the back garden of 1920 Lorraine Road when they unearthed the skeletal remains of an unknown man. The bones were still completely clothed in jeans and a plaid shirt, and these clothes seemed to be in Jonathan Soha's style, but it was impossible to say for sure. His DNA couldn't be used for comparison because he was adopted and his dental records were lost. Oh, fuck. Fuck.

So this episode of Unsolved Mysteries, Samarino Bones, revealed that police had carried out luminol tests in the guest house and found enormous amounts of blood. But because they couldn't identify the body as John's and Linda was still nowhere to be found, both of them were still officially just missing people. The host of the show said that police were very interested in speaking with a mysterious man named Christopher Chichester,

who had lived at the guesthouse at the time the couple disappeared. The screen then cut to a picture of Christopher wearing glasses and one of his hallmark preppy suits. They even mentioned that he might also be going under other aliases like Christopher Crowe and Mountbatten. And the authorities now know that his real name was Gerhard Strider. Say what you want about Unsolved Mysteries. They fucking know what's up.

They are doing the work. They really are. But none of this mattered, because Christian had shed all of those lives. He was now Clark Rockefeller, husband to high-flying Wall Street superstar Sandra Boss. Sandra Boss Rockefeller. By 1999, Sandra's career was skyrocketing. She was about to become one of the youngest partners ever at McKinsey & Company, earning millions of dollars a year. But her personal life was in a total downward spiral. Clark had become angry, controlling and abusive. He stopped Sandra from seeing her friends and family and took

complete control of her finances. Feeling bound by a sense of marital duty, she stayed with him and endured the abuse. She even stayed with him when Clark supposedly had a nervous breakdown in 1998 and insisted that he couldn't live in New York anymore. He forced Sandra to move to the remote town of Cornish, New Hampshire, a four-hour drive away from New York, where they bought a fixer-upper dump of a house. Sandra, of course, fitted the bill, just as she did for the fleet of 23 vintage cars, and a local church that Clark bought whilst they lived there. But in the end, the long commute to New York gave Sandra enough time away from Clark's abuse to get her head straight. And in the summer of 2000, she finally decided she was going to leave Clark, and she got herself an apartment in New York.

But predictably, as soon as Clark realised that his golden goose was getting away, he immediately turned back into that sweet, loving man that Sandra had fallen for. One night, he turned up at her New York doorstep, holding flowers and jewellery, and dressed like Professor Plum. No, I'm just kidding. It was just the flowers and the jewellery. And he turned up there to win her back and they ended up in bed together. Clark knew that if Sandra tried to divorce him, then she'd find out they were never really married because remember, he never sent off that marriage licence. And there was only really one way to keep her in his life. No. In early September 2000, Sandra realised that she was pregnant.

She'd later tell a courtroom that Clark must have poked holes in the condom. Jesus. After she gave birth to a daughter, Ray Storrow Mills Rockefeller, Sandra moved back into their broken-down home in New Hampshire, determined to give it another go. But now that Clark had found a way to permanently tie himself to Sandra, he quickly dropped the act of a loving husband and was worse than ever. When Ray turned four, Clark refused to enroll her in preschool or have her interact with any other kids.

He wanted complete control over Ray just like he did with his wife. Sandra, who was by this point earning two million dollars a year, was waking up hungry most nights in her own home because Clark would refuse to allow her to eat. Sandra desperately wanted to escape but she couldn't leave her daughter behind. Eventually Clark agreed to go to Boston and then they moved into an ivy-covered five-storey townhouse in Beacon Hill worth $2.7 million. I have been to the Beacon Hill pub. Or the BHP, as the locals call it.

Oh, well. Are you a rocker? No, I'm a Donnellan. It was September 2006 and Ray was five years old. Sandra felt like things were finally somewhat looking up. Her office was in Boston, which meant she could spend more time at home with her daughter. But obviously, it didn't last very long. Just four months after moving to Boston, Sandra decided once and for all that she had to leave her not-husband, Clark Rockefeller. This came after she found out that Clark had given Ray's school a fake contact number for her so that they couldn't invite her to parent-teacher meetings.

Sandra knew leaving her husband wasn't going to be an easy task. His behaviour was now scarier than ever before. But she had to, for Ray's sake. When Sandra consulted with lawyers, they brought in a psychotherapist who warned her that taking Ray abruptly away from Clark would put them both in severe danger. But in January 2007, Sandra had had enough. She split from Clark, and they both immediately filed for custody for Ray,

with Sandra paying Clark's attorney fees. During the following year of bitter custody proceedings, the pair were forced to put the townhouse on the market, and during that time, they split custody of Ray. And Clark was on the brink of losing it all. The vintage cars, his art collection, the members clubs, everything. The legality stretched out for months until one day Sandra received a phone call from her father. Clark had originally told Sandra that his mother's name was Mary Roberts but when Ray was born he told her family that she looked just like his mother, Anne Carter. Clark had also said that Anne was a child actor but when Sandra had questioned him about this at the time

he just insulted her and told her that it was a sensitive topic. But Sandra's father hadn't forgotten and after searching Anne Carter on Google he not only realised that it was a sensitive topic. But Sandra's father hadn't forgotten. And after searching Anne Carter on Google, he not only realised that she was in fact alive, but that she didn't have a son named Clark. And finally, after ten years of red flags indicating that her husband wasn't who he claimed to be, Sandra hired a private investigator. The PI came back and reported

that he couldn't find a single thing that backed up anything Clark had told Sandra about his life. There was no record of him being born in New York, none of his admission to Yale, no record of his parents dying or his father's $50 million lawsuit. Clark had no employment history, no relatives, no addresses, no passport. There was absolutely no trace of who he was previous to him having met Sandra in 1994. I wonder if he ever accidentally spoke German. Like, you know... In your sleep. Yeah, right.

Like in The Great Escape when he gets on the bus and he says good luck to him in English. He's good. Thank you. I wonder if that ever happened. I have to give it to him. Like he is very capable, but I think there's only so much that a person can split their mind into this many characters and continuously pull that off. Because you can also see that he's spiraling because it's only with Sandra

and towards when he's going to lose everything that she gives him. Do you see that devolution of his mind and the control and the abuse and the really nasty stuff? Up until then, it's kind of like he's just doing what he needs to and stepping on who he needs to make his dreams come true. Yeah. Sandra had her lawyers write up all of the lies that he had told her, along with the details of the abuse she'd suffered in an affidavit, and they filed it in the probate court. Just two weeks later, Clark's attorneys agreed to settle the custody case. He told Sandra that she could take full custody of Ray and that all he wanted in return was $800,000,

two cars, a dress, her engagement ring, three supervised annual visits with Ray, and the promise that Sandra would never write a book about their time together. I'm going to start putting that into any future friendships that end anything. But you're not to write a book about their time together. I'm going to start putting that into any future friendships that end anything. But you're not to write a book about any of this. All right, well, fucking go hard stride at you. Sandra agreed to these terms. And not only did she get full custody of Ray,

but she kept the townhouse, the 24-acre dump in Cornish, and the church that Clark had bought using her money. She sold them all and quickly moved to London with Ray. The day the custody battle was finalised, Clark sent a text to one of his friends saying, I've just signed the Treaty of Versailles. Boo hoo. Shut up, he's such a fucking twat.

Now Clark wasn't happy with the agreements that were made, because remember he's like, I'll take the $800,000 and you can have our daughter. But if you think that was going to stop him, just because he had agreed to give Sandra full custody of Ray, you would be very much mistaken, because Clark already had a plan to get his daughter back. On Sunday, the 27th of July, 2008, which was the first of that year's three days that he was allowed to see Ray, he turned up to the visit.

And as per the agreement, Clark was allowed to spend eight supervised hours with Ray. And this is fucking crazy. Sandra has to fly from London to Boston for this mandatory visit. And at 12.45pm, Clark was walking along the street in Boston with Ray on his shoulders, with Howard, the social worker, following close behind. Clark then pointed out a historical building to Howard. And just as the social worker turned his head to look at it,

Clark pushed him to the ground. He then threw Ray into the back of a black SUV that had been waiting on the corner, jumped in and screamed, go. Howard managed to get up in time to grab onto the vehicle's door handle, which I feel like is going, you know, Howard's doing the work as a social worker. But it was too late. He was dragged along the road for a few yards before his hand slipped,

and he flew onto the pavement. Clark had been planning this for months. Clark Rockefeller instructed the driver to stop outside a grocery store, where he and a terrified seven-year-old Ray jumped into a cab and set off to the Boston Sailing Center. There they met one of Clark's friends, who agreed to drive him and Ray to New York for $500. His friend only found out that she was an accomplice to a kidnapping when she saw the Amber Alert for Ray later that day. Within 24 hours, the FBI took up the investigation.

It wasn't the first case of parental kidnapping they'd dealt with, and they knew it almost never ended well. The agent spent five days on a wild goose chase. Clark had set up numerous red herrings in his intricately planned disappearance. He told all his friends a different story of where he was planning to go that week. He told one he was going sailing in Peru. He told another that he was going to Alaska, and yet another still that he would be in the Bahamas.

Every road the agents went down led to nothing. But then they learned that the night before the kidnapping, Clark had been at a friend's house drinking wine. Unfortunately, the glass he used hadn't been washed. So they managed to recover his fingerprints and sent them off to Quantico to find out who this man was once and for all. In the meantime, pictures of Clark,

who was now the most wanted man in the country, were released to the media. Almost immediately the calls came flooding in from everywhere. Some knew him as Christopher Gerhart, the exchange student. Others as Christopher Mountbatten Chichester, a member of British royalty. And some insisted that he was Christopher Crowe, the Wall Street broker. Every call helped add another puzzle piece to the labyrinth that was Clark Rockefeller's past. But none of them helped find Ray. But then a real estate agent in Baltimore phoned the FBI and told them that he knew this man as Chip Smith, a ship's captain, and that he'd just sold him a house on Ploy Street in Baltimore a week ago. And that is exactly where the FBI found him.

Within 12 hours, Clark was in cuffs and Ray was safely returned to Sandra. During interrogation, Clark gave absolutely nothing up whatsoever, but the FBI's fingerprint analysis told all. They came up as a positive match for Christian Karl Gerhardstreiter, the German immigrant who'd arrived in Boston in 1978, aged 17 on a six-month US tourist visa. And so, on the 3rd of September 2008, Christian was charged with kidnapping and assault

for having injured the social worker, Howard, with a black SUV. The trial began in 2009. He was sentenced to five years for kidnapping and three years to be served concurrently for the assault charge. But it wasn't over yet. Because on the 15th of March 2011, L.A. County prosecutors charged Christian with the murder of Jonathan Sohas. The evidence against him was only circumstantial, but circumstantial evidence is still evidence, and it looked pretty bad for the German. This trial began in March 2013, and the lead investigator on the Sohas case, Timothy Miley,

described it as a thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle. He believed that Christian had been in the middle of scamming the alcoholic and dementia-suffering Didi Sohas for her $180,000 estate when John and Linda moved in. Christian's first issue would have been getting Didi to remove John from her will, which she inexplicably did after John and Linda took off on their secret mission. Miley believed that Christian had convinced the couple that he'd landed them both government jobs, offered to fly them to New York, and then murdered them. And although Linda's body was never found,

Miley believed that she was probably buried out in the desert somewhere. As for the money, well, remember Don and Linda Weatherby, who ended up caring for Didi in her final years? They were also, despite barely knowing Didi, made the executors of her estate. Don died in 2001, and Linda passed away seven years later. But just before she died, Detective Miley managed to track her down in her final few months. And she revealed to Miley that it had been Christian who'd introduced her and Don to Didi, and that they'd agreed to give Christian $40,000 from Didi's estate after she died. Miley also recalled how one resident had told him that Christian had borrowed a chainsaw from him during that time, claiming it was to cut brush.

Nope. The jury also heard that two of the plastic bags the bones had been found in were from the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee and the University of Southern California, both of which Christian had attended. Oh my God. On the 15th of August 2013, the judge sentenced Christian Gerhard Streiter

to the maximum sentence of 27 years to life. Following an appeal in 2015, his sentence was reduced to 26 years to life. So they just knocked a year off, basically. Yeah, I know. I was like, what's the big change here? What's the point of the appeal process for a year? Anyway, eligibility for parole is up in December 2029, when the little German boy with an American dream,

and also murderer, will be 68 years old. Wow. There you go. So he's still so young. I mean, it's crazy. It's crazy. I feel like this story, like I said, it kind of starts in one era and he just keeps going. I can't believe in 2029 he'll only be 68. Yeah.

Yeah. It's nuts. And actually, while we were doing the entire story, I was picturing him as Matt Damon. Yeah, me too, actually. So there you go, guys. It is the real life talented Mr. Ripley. We hope you enjoyed it. We thought this one was a, like I said, it kind of felt like a past showcase, but not really.

Yeah, it's not really. Not really. So there you go. So the moral of the story is don't trust a Brit. Don't trust a German pretending to be a Brit. Or a Mountbatten or a Rockefeller. Words to live by. Words to die by.

And yeah, if you enjoyed that and you're like you know what i just want a little bit more content from you too well you can go and get it over on amazon music where we release every single tuesday our shorthand exclusive so tune in for that and we'll see you next time. Bye. Bye. You don't believe in ghosts? I get it. Lots of people don't. I didn't either until I came face to face with them.

Ever since that moment, hauntings, spirits, and the unexplained have consumed my entire life. I'm Nadine Bailey. I've been a ghost tour guide for the past 20 years. I've taken people along with me into the shadows, uncovering the macabre tales that linger in the darkness and inside some of the most haunted houses, hospitals, prisons, and more. Join me every week on my podcast, Haunted Canada, as we journey through terrifying and bone-chilling stories of the unexplained. Search for Haunted Canada on Apple Podcasts,

Spotify, Amazon Music, or wherever you find your favorite podcasts. I'm Jake Warren, and in our first season of Finding, I set out on a very personal quest to find the woman who saved my mom's life. You can listen to Finding Natasha right now exclusively on Wondery Plus. In season two, I found myself caught up in a new journey to help someone I've never even met. But a couple of years ago, I came across a social media post by a person named Loti. It read in part, three years ago today that I attempted to jump off this bridge, but this wasn't my time to go. A gentleman named Andy saved my life. I still haven't found him. This is a story that I came across purely by chance, but it instantly moved me and it's taken me to a place where I've

had to consider some deeper issues around mental health. This is season two of Finding, and this time, if all goes to plan, we'll be finding Andy. You can listen to Finding Andy and Finding Natasha exclusively and ad-free on Wondery Plus. Join Wondery Plus in the Wondery app, Apple Podcasts, or Spotify.