Archive for the ‘True Stories’ Category

What I wrote in True Stories of CSI

September 18, 2008

In recent seasons of C.S.I., several episodes featured the clever and elusive “Miniatures Killer.”  This offender planned murders in great detail and created tiny but exacting replicas of each crime scene.  While many people ask me how much of C.S.I. is based on actual cases, they query most often about this unique series of episodes.  I’m always delighted to say that the Miniatures Killer is based on reality – not on the work of an offender but on the vision of an innovative heiress who created the “dollhouses of death” as teaching instruments for police officers.  As is often the case, a true story inspired the C.S.I. creators and they added their fictional spin.  

Because viewers are often curious about what really happened in some incident, I collected the actual cases that inspired many episodes and wrote True Stories of C.S.I. (Berkley 2008).  One of the 25 chapters is devoted to the woman behind the dollhouses, while others describe such notorious offenders as Richard Trenton Chase, Michael Peterson, and Richard Speck, as well as such headline-grabbing incidents as the “rebirthing” homicide in Colorado, the JonBenét Ramsey murder, and our modern-day body-snatchers.

I learned about Frances Glessner Lee when I was researching the history of forensic science for Beating the Devil’s Game.  She was the only woman who had made a serious contribution to the field, and she did so against the wishes of her wealthy parents.  Indeed, her contribution was so unique and generous she became the first woman invited into the fledgling organization, the American Academy of Forensic Science, and was made an honorary member of the International Association of the Chiefs of Police.

Frances was the daughter of John Jacob Glessner and heir to the International Harvester fortune.  During the early 1900s, she aspired to study law or medicine, but her father forbade her from attending a university.  Off went her older brother to Harvard, where he met George Burgess Magrath, who hoped for a career in pathology.  Magrath often visited the Glessners at their thousand-acre New Hampshire estate, where he mesmerized Frances, a fan of Sherlock Holmes, with stories about death investigation.  Once he became a medical examiner, he confided to her the need for solid training for death investigators. She asked what she could do and Magrath encouraged her to assist with developing a prestigious flagship program at Harvard.

In 1931, Lee provided an endowment and library for Harvard’s Department of Legal medicine.  But then she did more.  She knew that inexperienced police officers often committed errors when trying to determine manner of death, largely due to missing the clues, so to mitigate this, she devised a practical solution: build crime scenes on which they could practice – in miniature.  She dubbed her project the “Nutshell Studies of Unexplained Death.”  Setting aside the second floor of her mansion as a workshop, she filled one room with doll-size furniture.  Then she hired two fulltime carpenters to craft the small buildings.  From cabins to three-room apartments to garages, each was fashioned to scale from her design.  The doors and windows actually worked, with shades that rolled up and working locks with mini-keys. 

They built three Nutshells per year, each of which cost the same as an average house in those days.  Lee made the dolls by hand, using a cloth body stuffed with cotton BB gun pellets and bisque heads. She painted the faces and stitched the clothes, adding sweaters and socks knitted on straight pins. Once each doll was ready, Lee would decide just how it should “die” and proceed to stick a knife in one, drown another, or hang one in a noose.  On each, she would paint decomposition.

To create each crime diorama, she blended several stories, sometimes going with police officers to crime scenes or the morgue, sometimes reading reports in the newspapers, and often injecting fiction.  She preferred enigmatic scenarios, where one had to examine all the clues before deciding on a conclusion.

Once Lee had several dollhouses ready, she made them part of the weeklong law enforcement seminars she sponsored at Harvard twice a year.  One day of each seminar was set aside for work with the Nutshells.  Participants had limited time to look at each crime scenario, take notes, and report back to the others about the evidence they saw. By the time Lee finished her ambitious project, she had nineteen Nutshells. 

In each scene, she included items that were not readily apparent, such as a subtle smudge of lipstick on a pillow slip. What might seem to be a suicide, for example, would look different when a key item was noted – a fresh-baked cake and a load of freshly-laundered clothing beside a woman’s body on the kitchen floor.  Other scenarios included a bound prostitute with a sliced throat and a man hanging in a wooden cabin.

By 1949, some 2,000 doctors and 4,000 lawyers had been educated at the Harvard Department of Legal Medicine, and several thousand state troopers, detectives, coroners, district attorneys, insurance agents, and crime reporters had attended Lee’s seminars.  They would continue successfully for several more years before the Nutshells were transferred to the Office of the Medical Examiner in Baltimore, MD.  After Lee died, her friend, Erle Stanley Gardner (author of the Perry Mason series), wrote, “Captain Lee had a strong individuality, a unique, unforgettable character, was a fiercely competent fighter, and a practical idealist.”  She is truly a role model for females in forensics today and C.S.I. is to be credited for renewing interest in her accomplishments.

My latest book, September 2008

My latest book, September 2008


Healthcare serial killers

August 24, 2007



This week, my latest book will be released. It’s called Inside the Minds of Healthcare Serial Killers, which pretty much explains the content. Many people think these cases are all alike, but that’s not the case. Whenever I give my undergraduate students a choice about whether I should talk about doctors and nurses who intentionally kill patients (HCSKs) or some other type of killer, they inevitably pick anything else. Like them, few people realize is just how unusual some of these killers are. They’re not mercy killers, although most claim to be. They generally have other motives, and they’re among the few types of serial killer for whom we can actually do a fairly accurate risk assessment. In retrospect, the red flags were all there.

Among the strangest is Dr. Michael Swango, who pled guilty to several counts of murder in 2000, although we may never know how many people he actually killed. Now here’s a guy who, during medical school and an internship, avidly collected stories about car accidents, deliberately poisoned coworkers, and openly admired Henry Lee Lucas, who he believed had wandered the country killing without consequence. Ted Bundy and Jim Jones were among Swango’s heroes, as was James Huberty, who slaughtered customers at a McDonald’s in 1984. Swango one told a female paramedic he’d like to plunge a hatchet into her head and revealed a violent fantasy to colleagues: he wanted to rush to the scene of an accident involving a school bus and a truck filled with gasoline. Another bus would slam into the truck, causing an explosion and sending kids flying. Nothing excited him more, except perhaps to tell families of patients that their loved one was dead. For him, that was truly erotic.

A few people saw the warning signs, but not most of Swango’s superiors. They kept ignoring the problems and when Swango finally managed to work on patients, a number of them died. He wasn’t called Double-O Swango for nothing – he had a license to kill.

Like many HCSKs, Swango succeeded by moving on from one establishment to another, and even going overseas. It was in Zimbabwe that one of the most bizarre stories emerged about him, as recorded in James Stewart’s excellent true crime narrative, Blind Eye. (It was also in Zimbabwe where his killing career was finally stopped.) He rented a room in a house that provided meals and every morning demanded the same breakfast: two eggs, four slices of toast, and a kilogram of fried bacon. Time passed and one day a servant went into Swango’s room. On a closet shelf she found dozens of neatly wrapped bacon sandwiches piled on top of one another, and in a drawer there were more. He hadn’t been eating all this bacon and bread, he’d been hoarding it – without refrigeration. Bizarre, but fascinating, and very likely related to his desire to kill.

The cases of HCSKs seem to have increased over the past decade and each one has its own peculiar stamp. Although it was my editor who suggested the book, I found that it was certainly a subject worthy of analysis – disturbing as well – and my hope is that what emerged from my study will help make our healthcare facilities safer. At the very least, someone who poisons associates and fantasizes about dead children won’t just be ignored or encouraged to go work elsewhere.