True Crime Campfire - Love or Money: The Crimes of Joel Sandler

Episode Date: August 25, 2023

In Charles Dickens’ “A Christmas Carol,” Scrooge’s nephew says of his uncle, “His wealth is of no use to him. He don’t do any good with it. He don’t make himself comfortable with it.” Those of us who aren’t staggeringly wealthy might have happy daydreams about how much fun we’d have if we won the lottery, but a lot of the people who devote their lives to making as much cash as possible seem incapable of finding any joy in their success. For them, it’s not about taking care of their loved ones, pursuing their dreams, having the time to travel or learn new passions. It’s just about…making—more—money. It’s the journey AND the destination. And that kind of greed? It can rot you from the inside out, and destroy everything good in your life. Join us for a true story of murder for hire in one of the richest neighborhoods in the country.Sources:Dominick Dunne's Power, Privilege and Justice, episode "What Price Murder?"The Reporter: https://www.thereporteronline.com/2003/03/06/millionaire-sentenced-for-hiring-hit-man-to-kill-wife/Steeple Times: https://www.thesteepletimes.com/the-roll-call/linda-sandler/Follow us, campers!Patreon (join to get all episodes ad-free, at least a day early, an extra episode a month, and a free sticker!): https://patreon.com/TrueCrimeCampfireFacebook: True Crime CampfireInstagram: https://gramha.net/profile/truecrimecampfire/19093397079Twitter: @TCCampfire https://twitter.com/TCCampfireEmail: [e-mail]! https://true-crime-campfire.myspreadshop.com/Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/true-crime-campfire--4251960/support.

Hello, campers. Grab your marshmallows and gather around the true crime campfire. We're your camp counselors. I'm Katie. And I'm Whitney. And we're here to tell you a true story that is way stranger than fiction. We're roasting murderers and marshmallows around the true crime campfire. In Charles Dickens, a Christmas carol, Scrooge's nephew says of his uncle. His wealth is of no use to him. He don't do any good with it. He don't make himself comfortable with it. Those of us who aren't staggeringly wealthy might have happy day dreams about how much fun we'd have if we won the lottery, but a lot of the people who devote their lives to making as much cash as possible seem incapable of finding any joy in their success.

For them, it's not about taking care of their loved ones, pursuing their dreams, having the time to travel or learn new passions. It's just about making more money. It's the journey and the destination. and that kind of greed, it can rot you from the inside out and destroy everything good in your life. This is Love or Money, the Crimes of Joel Sandler. So, Campers, we're starting this one out in the parking lot of the King of Prussia Mall

just outside of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. March 28, 2001. Joel Sandler, millionaire broker and real estate investor, was walking to his car, a shady-looking dude following just behind. This was the first time the two of them had met, two radically different men brought together by the same dark purpose. They settled into the car and slammed the doors behind them.

I want something done, Joel said. That something was a crime that most of us couldn't imagine even think. thinking about. He wanted his wife murdered. Now, a lot of times when we hear stories like this, we say stuff like nobody who knew this guy could have ever predicted he'd do something like this, but in the case of Joel Sandler, I don't know. In some ways, this seems like the inevitable denouement to Joel's entire character arc. He grew up on Long Island in the 50s. His parents were solidly middle class, but the whole family was ambitious, especially when it came to Joel's future. His parents wanted him to be a doctor, and he was definitely smart enough to do it.

But Joel had other ideas. After he graduated from the University of Pittsburgh in 1972, Joel realized he didn't want to go into medicine. Now, I can't blame him there. I wouldn't want to do it either, mainly because it seems icky. Like, you know, human bodies, ew. But that wasn't the problem for Joel. Joel wanted to make money. Big, big money, and he wanted to make it fast. And this, as you'll soon find out, is the major organizing principle of Joel's life. Money, please. Give me the money. Now, just let this sink in for a second, okay? This man didn't want to be a doctor because they're too poor.

Wow. Yikes. So right after college, Joel got a short-term gig working construction to make ends meet, and one day, in the middle of a job, he went to a diner for lunch, and noticed a young woman sitting. by herself in a booth. There was something about her that drew his attention, and eventually he just went over and introduced himself. The woman's name was Linda, and she wasn't used to men coming over and hitting on her in diners. Linda was quiet and shy, and she'd never had a boyfriend

before. At that age, Joel was charming and kind of intense, good-looking in a 70s kind of way, like messy black hair, big sideburns, and a Che Guevara mustache. Linda was pretty much captivated. He got her number and called her up the same day. And that's another little nugget of info to file away about our boy Joel. When he wants something, he goes after it full bore. And within two years, they were married. Two kids, a boy and a girl, came along soon after. Now, a little bit of foreshadowing here. But once he gets to know Joel better, it makes total sense why he'd want to laser lock onto a woman like Linda. Somebody he clocked right away is shy and kind of docile, timid. Now, I'm not saying she actually was like that at the end of the day.

In fact, he's going to find out Linda definitely has hard limits. But I think he perceived her like that, and that made her perfect for him. Joel wanted to be in control in every aspect of his life, and he did not like to be challenged. He wasn't looking for an equal partner. He was looking for somebody insecure enough to let him be in charge. So with the wife and kids thing all neatly wrapped up, Joel focused on the true love of his life, pursuing ridiculous Scrooge McDuckian levels of wealth. Things started off well when he landed a brokering job with Merrill Lynch.

On the purely technical side of the job, it was a good fit for him. He was sharp and aggressive and had a good feel for the market. Pretty soon he was taken home $150,000 salary, equivalent to about $850K today. Damn. But a job isn't all about crunching numbers, especially in the pre-computer age. you have to deal with people every day. And let's just say, that ain't Joel Strong suit. Everybody at Merrill Lynch hated him.

He was rude and abrasive, just an all-around dick wagon to any and everybody. And remember, we're talking about a 70s Philadelphia brokerage office here, okay? It's hard to think of anywhere less likely to be full of, you know, delicate, thin-skinned flowers. You can practically smell the cigar smoke and the brute and like the casual misogyny just floating around. wafting down through the decades. How bad do you have to act for the people there to think, who, this guy's a prick, right? But that was a consensus,

and Joel's boss had to arrange a transfer for him to another office. That's how bad his coworkers were like, we got to get this shit out of here. Joel's clients, however, would not be transferring with him. Joel was not having it. He was furious. Joel's always furious about one thing or another you'll find. And he didn't take it well.

You know, there are endless ways to handle a disagreement with your boss, but I really can't recommend the route Joel chose, which was to threaten to kill the guy. Bro, are you trying to turn a transfer into a firing? Because that is how you turn a transfer into a firing, which is exactly what happened, and Joel was booted out the door of Merrill Lynch. And there was much rejoicing. Yay. All his co-workers were like, score, the ass hat's gone. We can all get back to snort and Coke off the conference table. Woo! There's a lot of connections and talk in the investment banking world, and everybody knew why he'd gotten shit canned from Merrill Lynch. Nobody wanted to hire him.

But brokering wasn't the only game in town, and in 1978, Joel scored a job at a Ritzie real estate company. He worked on high dollar investment deals for the rich, and when the real estate boom rolled around, in the 80s, Joel Sandler was making bank, taking home over half a million dollars a year, which would be around three times that much now. In 1985, he spent a half a million dollars on a gigantic mansion in Bryn Marr, part of the Shishi Philadelphia mainline, remember that one, and one of the richest areas in the U.S. Okay, so he must have been just delighted with his life, right? He's got the family, the big house, the money, very much. the 1980s American dream life. The kids were doing well in school, their daughter was a figure

skater, their son played tennis. We're at yuppie ground zero here. But no, Joel wasn't happy. I don't think sustained happiness is something he has in him. And even the one thing that did bring him brief moments of pleasure, money, preyed constantly on his mind. Joel Sandler, a millionaire several times over by now, was a skinflint on a scale that would make even Ebenezer Scrooge go, dude, for God's sake, have any of y'all seen that show Extreme Cheapskates? He could be on that show. Like, these people are like stealing loaves of bread from the trash can that are all moldy. And they're like, oh, just cut it.

And it's totally fine. It's like, dude. I saw one guy who had reused the same spool of dental floss for years. I almost threw up. It's so gross. It's so gross. I bet he fucking loves that show if they let them watch TLC in prison. Oh, you know.

He's like writing down tips in his prison journal. Oh, no, you're still being wasteful with that dental floss. You should just use your hair. Yeah, come on. If Joel felt like one of the kids was taking a little too long in the shower, he'd turn off the hot water to force them out. At gas stations, he'd fill his station. he'd fill his tank and then just drive off without paying.

Most gas stations didn't have cameras back then. When contractors did work in his home, he'd pay them less than the agreed-upon price knowing they probably weren't going to spend the time and money to sue his ass. Ah, yes, the old bait and switch, always a sign of a degenerate scumbag. And I feel strongly about this because I actually had this pulled on me once

when I was doing freelance writing, and I'm still pissed about it. It was like 12 years ago. And that dude was super rich, too. Like, he invited me over to his, like, fabulous mansion and friggin' bait switched me. Oh, evil. Bastard. It gets worse.

In the winter, Joel wouldn't let his family turn on the heat in their gigantic mansion. Too pricey. Instead, he'd have one fireplace going and everybody had to huddle around that for warmth and scuttle off to bed to dive under a huge pile of blankets. Oh, my Lord. And this is the best one. Or the worst one, I guess, I should say. Joel didn't like to use toilets. Too much wasted water.

That costs money, you know. So our boy would pee into a cup and toss the piss out the window. Oh, God. Which I'm sure made it an endless adventure to do like any landscaping or painting work at his house. Not only are you not going to get paid, but you're going to get pissed thrown on it. Poor dudes like working outside the study window. doing some weed eating like oh what was that why am i all wet oh my god i'm thinking because there's no way he let anybody use a dishwasher in his house so they were washing dishes by hand and i

can't help but think because like do you think he washed the piss cup oh god why are you like this i i just i because i was like well because it was worse in my head that it would be in the dishwasher with the other dishes. No. I think he kept that moldy-ass thing under his desk and used it over and over. If you really want to know what I think. Yeah. No, a thin crust inside.

Always asking questions that we don't want the answers to, Katie. It's just how my brain works. And, okay, I need you all to remember that this is a man making well over a million dollars a year in today's money. And he's too cheap to flush a damn toilet. So you can imagine just how delighted he was in 1991 when the government closed down the tax loophole that fed his real estate income and his half-a-mill job went bye-bye. Joel started his own brokerage firm, Sandler, and Associates, but the associates were just his piss cup and some dust bunnies. The new company was just Joel alone in his basement, trying desperately to get a hold of some clients.

And this wasn't easy because, as we've seen, Joel had kind of a hard time dealing with the other human beings. Yeah, not only was he just one of those people that your gut instantly identifies as 100% pure concentrated asshole like the second you meet him, but he was creepy too. He'd just sit there like a gargoyle all grim-faced and way too intense, just staring holes through you like you weren't even there. he looked like he'd never smiled once in his life and he just weirded people out and when you see pictures of him you will understand why his face is just unsettling and most people aren't going to be like hey you know that guy who deeply deeply unsettled me let's put our financial future in his hands right i mean he did get some clients and some money but not nearly as much as he'd been making before so in 1992 he started day trading always a great move and investing in real estate deals

across the country. And he still had the magic touch when it came to investments. The money poured in. How much is hard to say because Joel didn't tell anybody. Certainly not his wife Linda. I mean, what? I'm going to share my finances with my wife. Ridiculous. And for the most part, she was okay with that. We said earlier that Joel may have gone after Linda in the first place because he thought she wouldn't question his fragile sense of authority, and Linda was generally happy to play the traditional wife role, which is fine, you know, if that's what you want, as long as your partner is treating you with respect and love and vice versa, and nobody feels taken advantage of. Linda worked as a teacher, helping disabled kids and handled raising

their own kids, and Joel took care of all the financial stuff, which that is not a great idea, in my opinion. I think both partners really need to have a grasp on the family finances, just in case something happens to one of you, you know? Yeah. And if you don't at least take a teensy peek at your bank statements at least a few times, it could get you in a world of hurt. I can think of three cases off the top of my head, and you guys know how bad my memory is, where one spouse got hosed because their life partner was going all shopaholics Anonymous with the family's visa. In specifically a case where not knowing about their financial status got a guy investigated for the murder his wife committed. He was genuinely just kind of dumb, but he almost, I think I actually know. Was that the one with the private investigator? Yes. Yep. I knew I knew that case. Anyway, this is how like 90% of our conversation. Yep. Correct. All right. But I agree with you, absolutely. Now, as you can imagine, Joel was never exactly a barrel of laughs for his family to live with. And that got worse now that he was working for himself. His temper would fluctuate based on how much money he'd made in any given day. If he'd made bank that day, he'd be as, you know, as abelient as Joel ever got, which is a low bar. But,

It was enough for them to be able to breathe a sigh of relief at home, but if he lost money, regardless of the massive fortune he still had, it was a catastrophe, and he'd be miserable and pissy, and sometimes he'd rage. Because Joel is pretty much a solid piece of shit from head to toe, everybody in the family would feel his temper. It got physical with all of them, but mostly with Linda. Sometimes he'd punch her or throw her down, but his favorite move was to elbow her in the stomach, which is just incredibly dangerous. There's so many important organs in there. You can

really hurt somebody. He'd do this when he felt furious at not adding a few more dollars to his already massive Mr. Burns-like stack of cash, sometimes pretending he was mad because Linda hadn't cut coupons when she went grocery shopping. Again, this jack wagon is a multi-millionaire, an already set for life. It's just ridiculous. And then there's this fun little fact. In the mid-90s, Joel was actually arrested four times for shoplifting. Fancy, schmancy, high-dollar stuff like a pack of cigarettes and a garden hose. Now, I think we've talked before on the show about how sometimes unnecessary shoplifting can be born of depression or anxiety or feelings of helplessness, and obviously sometimes it's just borne out of need.

But with Joel, I think it comes back to the money sickness that consumed 99% of his personality. He just really did want to save that $2 on a pack of Marlborough life. fights. So far, he's the sole reason that we have to prepay for gas and cigarettes are kept behind the counter. At least it's solely his fault in my head. Yeah, I'm going to blame it on him. Yeah. Toward the end of the 90s, Joel's golden touch with money was turning to lead. The days when he lost money got more and more frequent. He got angrier and angrier and his violent abuse of Linda got worse and worse. Eventually, in September of 1998, he picked her up and he picked her up and threw her across the room into a wall.

And that, finally, was it for Linda. Afraid for her life, she left the mainline mansion and moved to the family beach house on the Jersey shore. She was terrified of Joel. Their son had already grown up and left home, but Linda took their daughter Allison, who was in her late teens at the time with her. She filed for divorce.

Good for her. Now, mainly, Linda just wanted to be done with Joel, but, you know, she also wanted half their assets, and Lord knows she deserved it after everything. thing, this violent little greed goblin put her through. But Joel, of course, took this big. His wife, his kids, meh, you know, he could do without those, but his money, his precious, precious money. No chance. I mean, if Linda got everything she wanted, he'd still be a millionaire, but remember, this is a guy who, if he dropped a nickel, he'd bend down to pick it up so fast it'd hit him

in the back of the head. He was so cheap, he probably had rubber pockets so it could steal soup. So letting his soon-to-be ex-wife get millions of his money, that was not going to fly. Hey, campers, Katie here. With the busy fall season just around the corner, you might be looking for wholesome, convenient meals for your jam-pack days. Factor, America's number one ready-to-eat meal kit can help you fuel up fast with chef-prepared, dietitian-approved ready-to-eat meals delivered straight to your door. You'll save time, eat well, and stay on track with your healthy lifestyle. Too busy with your end-of-summer goals to cook, but want to make sure you're eating well?

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in their meals. This August, get Factor and enjoy eating well without the hassle. Simply choose your meals and enjoy fresh, flavor-packed meals delivered to your door, ready in just two minutes. No prep, no mess. Head to factormeals.com slash TCC50 and use code TCC50 to get 50% off. That's code TCC50 at factormeals.com slash TCC50 to get 50% off. Initially, he just refused to even talk about a divorce settlement. He ignored offers from Linda's attorneys, didn't make any counteroffers, just pretended the whole thing wasn't happening. He had other things on his mind anyway. I know this is going to shock you, but Joel had played fast and loose with the IRS during his big money days in the mid-90s.

He hadn't paid income tax in over three years. And now he was worried the IRS were about to come sniffing around and throw his lying, cheating ass into jail for tax evasion, while grabbing hundreds of thousands of dollars from his bank accounts, too. For Joel, who truly cared about his money more than anything else, this was just one damn thing after another. As was usual for this barely sentient fungus, his anger and frustration focused in on Linda. When she was staying at the beach house, Linda's tires were slashed, and while Joe would never own up to it, it's a pretty common move for newly dumped dickheads, and who the hell else was it going to be?

None of the neighbor's tires got slashed, and Linda didn't have any other enemies. One time, when Linda was trying to enjoy a peaceful meal at a restaurant, Joel came storming in and started yelling at her so much that somebody called the cops. He harassed her on the phone constantly. He came down and changed the locks on the beach house. Finally, Linda's lawyers got an emergency petition to give her sole possession of the beach house. Joel still had the mansion to live in, after all. The beach house had an elevator from the garage to the house. Welcome to the lives of rich people, y'all.

And one time Linda and her daughter were stepping into it when Allison smelled cigarette smoke in there. Joel was a chain smoker. Clearly, he'd just been there. Maybe he still was. Oh, that's creepy. Linda was terrified. She knew how driven and obsessive Joel was, and she'd experienced his violent temper firsthand. She knew she was in danger.

So in February 2001, she packed her bags and split. Her daughter had moved out on her own by this time, and Linda didn't even tell her or her son where she'd gone. She didn't tell her attorneys either, just dealt with them via cell phone calls. She was determined to remain completely under the radar. Her kids, by the way, might not have been able to visit their mom, but they weren't going to see Joel either. Both of them had cut ties with him completely, and good for them for doing it.

Absolutely. He'd already given up his right to be their dad if you ask me. Mm-hmm. February 2001 was also when Joel's refusal to engage with any settlement agreements hit a wall. If he wasn't going to play the ball, the courts would make the decision, and a judge scheduled a hearing to divide the Sandler's property. This, obviously, was not going to go the way Joel wanted. A large chunk of the Sandler's millions would be headed Linda's way. So, like any good psychopath, Joel went straight for the nuclear option. He got in touch with an old acquaintance named Michael Saul and arranged to meet him for lunch.

Now, Michael actually wasn't in the least bit shady, but Joel knew he liked to gamble, and in his mind, this meant that the guy must 100% have underworld connections. He didn't even have a gambling problem. He just liked a little flutter every now and then. But Joel had gotten it into his head that the dude was having Friday night poker games

with Tony Soprano while some gavone was getting whacked in the next room. I love this shit. It just happens in every single hitman case, doesn't it? Where they'll go after some, like, poor innocent friend of theirs that they think is, like, shady and isn't at all. That just has tattoos. Like, that's the thing. Yeah, it's just like it's...

Or they're, like, working class. They're blue collar. So, therefore, I'm like, dude, like, oh, oh. It's so funny. Joel told Michael he had a problem that needed taken care of and made it clear without coming right out and saying it that he wanted someone killed. Michael Saul waved his hand at him,

kind of a combined stop and get out of here, but Joel, who was all keyed up at this point, mistook the gesture, grabbed Michael's hand and shook it, and left the restaurant, thinking they just made a deal. And Michael Saul, bless him, went straight to the cops, and he was convincing. The detectives were sure that he believed Joel had been trying to arrange a hit,

and as they dug in and found out that Joel was involved in an acrimonious, very high dolly, her divorce, his motive became clear. They contacted Linda's attorneys and told them their client might be in danger. They were shocked, but Linda wasn't. She wasn't the least bit surprised. She knew there were no limits to what Joel would do to keep a hold of his money. The detectives took the case seriously right away, but they were a long way from having enough evidence to nail Joel Sandler. So they chose to go with a true crime classic, a fake hitman sting operation. Ooh, baby. I love me a hitman sting. You all know it.

To set it up, they sent Joel a letter purportedly from Michael Saul. It read, Someone will be in touch. Don't ever ask me for anything else. It was signed with a single letter M. Ooh, so cloak and dagger. They love their dramatics in the hitman stains. They do.

Sure enough, a little later, Joel got a call from a guy who could help him with his problem, and they arranged to meet at the King of Prussia Mall. His hitman, of course, was an undercover detective. a guy brought in from narcotics who had a lot of experience handling shady dickheads like Joel. He was wearing a wire, and every word the mic picked up was recorded. There was also a van out in the parking lot, inside of which were other officers with cameras. The hope was that they could get Joel talking about wanting to kill his wife and throw the old habeas grab-us on him before the day was out.

But Joel, the master, baiter, and switcher. See what I did there? Joel wanted to run things his own way. He and the hitman had agreed to meet outside TGI Fridays in the mall. And if you're keeping count, I think this might actually be number three on the hits planned in a TGI Fridays. So just do with that information what you will. Yeah, I don't think it's anything like TGI Fridays is doing. I think those loaded potato skins are just irresistible, even to the scummiest of fuckers.

I think that's just it. But Joel was waiting inside, and that's where he wanted to talk. because I guess nothing goes with planning your wife's assassination quite like mozzarella sticks and spinach dip. I think the only reason Joel actually wanted to meet inside, though, was to make his hitman dance to his tune, some cheap business boy power play that would probably have worked about as well on a real hitman as it did on the undercover detective. Probably learned it at a Six Sigma retreat or some shit.

I'm not meeting you in a public place like this, fake hitman told Joel. We'll go sit in the car. I'm not doing this. He wanted Joel out in the car. so the officers in the surveillance van could get footage of them together. And Joel, who was king of the assholes but no dummy, protested. I don't want to be videoed out there or anything like that. Yeah, you'd think? After some back and forth, the officer forced the issue.

It's like, forget this, I'm leaving. And only then did Joel finally agree to go out and talk in his camry. I want something done, Joel said, and I was put in touch with you. And then he reached into his pocket and said, I don't want to talk any further, okay? And he meant it. Those were almost the last words he said in the whole conversation. Our boy had done his prep work.

He'd sat down and thought through every turn this conversation might possibly take and typed up a stack of index cards to cover any response he might need. He just started silently handing these things to the undercover detective. And he'd done a good job. Like, these things were comprehensive. The first one read, how did you get? my number. And the second, do not call me at home again. We will talk from pay phones only. Then he got down to business, although he still kept some cards close to his chest, so to speak.

He identified his problem as a colleague, not his wife, who was out west somewhere. There was no doubt what he wanted to happen to this problem. Another card read, can you make sure the body is disposed of, cremated, destroyed, or something like that? And he'd made up his mind what he was willing to pay. I'll give you 5K as a down payment and another 20 upon completion. One card read. The detective said, sure, no problem. Another card underscored how much of a control freak Joel was. I cannot afford any stupid mistakes or sloppiness.

This is serious. Yeah, okay, dude. The hitman you met at TGI Fridays is going to take extra special care of this hit because he doesn't want to disappoint Mr. Joel. Get over yourself, dude. Jeff is a professional. Okay? Yes.

He's got this. Jeff's got everything under control. If Joel had actually been speaking the words on the cards, the recordings would have been powerful evidence, but that was the whole point of the cards. The police didn't have him on tape committing to a hit. The undercover detective knew this thing was in trouble. He needed to get Joel talking. He tried more particulars on the target of the hit, tried to ask unexpected questions, but the bastard had a card for everything. He was controlling the meeting.

So the detective, and props to him for this, did some quick thinking. He knew enough about Joel that he figured money was his Achilles heel. And if he pulled a little bait and switch of his own about the price, you know, hit him in the wallet. It might piss Joel off enough to get him talking. He'd already agreed on Joel's 25,000 figure for the job. But now he said he wanted an extra five grand to dispose of the body. Plus, he wanted to fly first class out to wherever Linda. was and back. And he wanted

some petty cash to buy new clothes. Joel was beside himself. Not only could the guy squeeze a dime till it was one atom thick, but having this peasant hit man pulled the same shit on him that he pulled on people every day was

intolerable. No, we got a deal. Total 25, he grunted. This guy, remember, was calling a hit on his wife to save himself millions of dollars, but he balked at paying a few grand extra. The undercover officer had read his mark

perfectly. Good work, detective. Damn right. The meeting wrapped up with Joel promising that a plane ticket and details on target would follow shortly. Then the two of them got out of the car and Joel started carefully ripping up the index cards. He had a lighter and was going to burn them right there

in the parking lot. The undercover officer could see his evidence literally going up in smoke, so again he thought on his feet. Let me help, he said, and started helping Joel rip up a card. He ripped off a little piece of it and dropped it on the pavement. Like, oh, shit, sorry. And when Joel bent down to pick it up, the detective slipped the card into his back pocket. That was the only card they'd have as physical evidence against Joel, and it was the one that said this. A colleague

of mine has put me in an uncomfortable situation, and I may need some help in resolving this problem. This colleague does not reside in the immediate area, and resolving this problem will require some travel. Are you available to travel outside the tri-state area? This is obviously sketchy as hell, but it's a long way from a slam dunk on a solicitation to commit murder charge. He hadn't even told his hitman who or where the target was. The where part of that was up in the air because Linda was still in hiding, although Joel managed to sniff out west from somewhere. He'd soon narrow that down. He tried to get Linda's location from her banks and credit card companies, but no one would share it. But then he got in touch with her

credit union. They were still legally married and he was able to get them to fax him copies of her canceled checks. Ugh, not creepy. Shit like this is why people often actually have to go into literal hiding to get away from their abusive exes. Like even down to using fake names sometimes

and there's like a whole network of safe houses and stuff. I mean, it is just terrible. So once he had that, he just Googled the businesses that she'd written the checks to and was able to pinpoint Linda's location. She was in Sun Valley, an Idaho ski resort town where they'd been on vacation before. Now he knew where Linda was, Joel arranged to meet his hitman for the second time,

again in the parking lot at the King of Prussia Mall. The police wanted to get two big things from Joel at this meeting. They wanted him to identify his target, and they wanted him to hand over the down payment on the hit. But from the start, Joel was twitchy and nervous. His feet were definitely showing signs of getting jilly. And this wasn't because he was having any moral qualms about having his wife assassinated. It was because he correctly was worried about whether his hitman was on the up and up. For the down and down, I don't know what she'd call it with a hitman. He told the undercover officer

he needed to see identification. This friggin cracks me up. He was like, I need birth certificate, driver's license, photo ID. From a hitman. Are you kidding me? The undercover officer laughed this off as a real hitman would have to. Joe Honey, your underworld assassins are are not in the Better Business Bureau, okay? You're not going to be able to check his flipping references. That is not how this works. I don't know if you're an undercover policeman, Joel said. Like we said, he's ruthless, but he's not stupid.

I don't know that about you either, the undercover said. Tushay, hit man, Jeff. So finally, the cop was like, fine, I'll show you my driver's license, but that's it. Joel wasn't happy. That could be fake, he said, let's hold off. And that was it, meeting over. Damn it. The DA was kind of in a bind here.

They hadn't gotten the deeply incriminating evidence against Joel that they wanted. What they had added up to a mostly circumstantial case that was a long way from being rock solid. But there was also no doubt in their minds that Joel was absolutely sincere in wanting Linda dead. They worried that Joel, the definitive cheapskate, had backed away from his deal with the undercover officer because he'd found a cheaper alternative somewhere else, or was just going to do it himself. If they waited to get better evidence, Linda Sandler might very well end up dead. So to mix up our prosecutorial metaphors, the DA rolled the dice and pulled the trigger. Okay, campers, please don't join in on any situation where you're both rolling dice and pulling triggers.

That does not sound safe. It really does not. It sounds like something that would happen in like the basement room of the casino with like the really people who just have hardcore, like need for adrenaline and somebody's gonna die and just get taken out the dumpster. Not good. On April 26th, 2001, Joel Sandler, having alienated both his children and abused his wife till she fled for her life, was all alone in his cavernous mainline mansion when the doorbell ring. When he answered it, Joel went white as a sheet because there was a whole gaggle of police officers there, including his buddy from TGI Fridays, which must have been a fun site

when that realization hit, right? And they put him under arrest for solicitation to commit murder. And of course, as they always are, he was completely shocked Pikachu face at having been busted. Joel was refused bail and certainly did not turn over a new leaf behind bars. His daughter Allison had suffered from PTSD following his arrest for trying to kill her mom, and on top of that, she had to have an emergency appendectomy. In total, she'd run up like 200K in medical bills.

And not only did Joel refuse to help pay them, he refused to release any of the money contested in the divorce so that Linda could help her. Help their daughter. Ugh, this dude is just trash. He's just a gross, soulless little gremlin. All right, so the trial started in January 2003, and no one was really sure which way it was going to go. The prosecution connected the dots for the jury. They had to see what Joel meant by resolving a problem in the context of his divorce. with Linda and offering a purported hitman 25K.

And to make it clear just what kind of person they were dealing with here, the prosecution brought Linda to the stand. She was still terrified of Joel. This was the first time she'd seen him in person since fleeing the mansion five years before, but she convincingly testified to the links Joel had already gone to to fight their divorce and made it clear that she was scared for her life and with good reason. Joel just sat at the defense table and glared at her. Joel's defense argued that he had never actually gone through with arranging a hit.

In the last meeting with the undercover officer, he backed out of the whole thing. Basically, they said Joel hadn't gone far enough with the plan to warrant the charges against him. For their part, during the closing argument, the prosecution played the recording of the few words the undercover officer had managed to pry out of Joel during their first meeting. No, we got a deal. Joel Sandler thought he was making a deal to kill his wife. We don't really have any indication of what impression Joel made with the jury, but I'm guessing it wasn't great because they were human beings, and like we said earlier, Joel didn't do so great with the human beings.

They deliberated for four and a half hours and found Joel Sandler guilty of solicitation to commit murder. He was sentenced to eight and a half to 25 years in prison. Prosecutor Sean Cullen said he expected Sandler to sort of. serve around 20 years and could serve all 25 because of his behavior in jail so far, including, quote, assaultative acts, racial and sexual slurs. Wow. Scrooge McDip shit, keeping it classy to the end. He was still there as of 2021, and I assume we'd have found stories if he'd been let out since. He'll be in his 70s by the time he's released, which is still plenty young enough to be dangerous. Linda has been living incommunicado since his conviction, and she's probably right to do so.

This is not a guy who will let go of a grudge. At least she has money, though. The divorce court awarded Linda 75% of the Sandler family assets, something that must sting Joel every day like lemon juice on a paper cut. Oh, poor baby. In some ways, that's probably a better punishment than anything a jury could dish out. Suck on it, you pathetic little bed thore. So that was a wild one, right campers? You know we'll have another one for you next week,

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