Steak to the table. What and who it takes to get it there.

You know, if you're listening to this right now, you're already a part of the Weirdo family, but there is a deeper, darker corner of this family, and it's called the official Weirdos. For just five bucks a month, official Weirdos get every episode of Weird Darkness completely commercial free. They get bonus episodes every single week that nobody else hears, they get chapters of the audiobooks I'm narrating, and they hear those chapters before the authors and publishers I'm narrating them for, really, before the people who hired me. Every week night, official Weirdos and I gather for a live premiere chat. We listen to the new episode drop together and talk about whatever's on our minds while it plays. It's the closest thing to sitting in the studio with me. Official Weirdos also get direct access to me through personal messaging. Plus, inside news about the show and what I'm working on that nobody else hears about. All of that for just five bucks a month. And if you want to go deeper, there are higher tiers, loyal Weirdos and avowed Weirdos, where free Weird Darkness merchandise starts showing up at your door every three months. Stickers, mugs, posters, t-shirts, tote bags, hoodies, you'll see everything when you visit the page. If any of that sounds like you're kind of weird, add to WeirdDarkness.com/official and join the family. That's WeirdDarkness.com/official. The other official Weirdos are anxious to meet you. I didn't certain evil laugh here, but I think that'd probably be a bit over the top. After this, a struggling movie studio gimbals big on an adaptation of a story that has existed for a long time. The director lobbies to cast a relatively risky actor. The movie is ultimately a success based on the performance of that actor and goes on to spawn a connected universe of films that dominate the box office for a decade to come. No, it's not the story of Robert Downey Jr. and Iron Man. It's the story of Bella Legosi's life and the monster movie that made him a star. Dracula. I'm Darren Marlar and this is WeirdDarkness. Welcome Weirdos. Here you'll find stories of the paranormal, supernatural, legends, lore, the strange and bizarre, crime, conspiracy, mysterious macabre, unsolved and unexplained. Coming up in this episode, nearly a century has passed and the grisly crime committed by two sisters remains as mysterious as ever. You look at the peepen sisters and the shocking, gruesome murder they committed in 1933, that horrified friends. You think you know what Halloween is all about, but you might not, not really. After all, it wasn't always about carving pumpkins and collecting candy. When it comes to murder investigations, the skeletons in everyone's closets, even those who are only peripheral characters in the drama, can still have their darkest secrets revealed. If I was to tell you, I had a story called The Woodchipper Murder. You might think it sounds like something out of the movie Fargo, but for Helle Nielsen, it was all too real. But first, it began as an obscure actor, became a universally loved monster, but ended in destitution. We'll look at the career of Bella Legosi. Now, bolt your doors, lock your windows, turn off your lights, and come with me into the weird darkness. From his humble origins as an actor and his native hungry, to the heights of worldwide fame, to along slide into dependency and obscurity, Bella Legosi's career was marked by bad luck and tragedy. His poor command of English made him both mistrustful yet easily duped, and his success as Dracula turned his career into one where he played increasingly cheap knockoffs of the count. It's difficult to tell how much of what happened to Legosi was bad luck and how much was the result of his own choices. By many accounts, he was vain, impetuous and insecure. He had lavish tastes and no discernible skills with money, but he was also polite, and many of his former colleagues remembered him fondly, if with a certain reserve. To many he seemed from another era, chivalrous, aristocratic, and often a loof. Perhaps it was this reserve, this distance from other people that allowed him for so long to conceal his slide into substance reliance and bankruptcy. When the spotlight faded for Legosi, he never recovered. In the end, he was laid to rest with his famous Dracula costume, the figurative memento that defined his legendary status as the first king of horror. In the early 1900s, political tension was rife in Hungary. The nation declared independence from the Austro-Hungarian Empire on October 17, 1918. Immediately after independence, a communist revolution toppled the government. Legosi, who had fought in World War I, agitated for the communists within the local community of actors. When the communist regime was itself replaced, though, he found himself blacklisted at every state theater, effectively ending what had been a promising stage career. Legosi and his wife fled the country in 1919, hiding under bails of hay as they crossed the border to Vienna. From Vienna, they went to Berlin, where Legosi quickly established himself as a leading man in German cinema. From Berlin, he made his way to the United States, passing through Ellis Island in March of 1921. Although Bella Legosi seems like the perfect stage name for an actor who became famous, playing dark, seductive Eastern Europeans, his real name would have sounded even more foreign to American ears. He was born Bella Feranque de Soblasco in the town of Lugos Hungary in 1882. When he began acting on the Hungarian stage, he took the name of his birthplace and called himself Bella Lugosi. Over time Lugosi became Legosi, particularly when the dramatic Hungarian introduced himself to American audiences. And the name is now synonymous with the vampire he made famous. The crash of 1929 left the movie industry in shambles, and no studio suffered more than universal studios. They needed a hit. Although it's unlikely they expected it to come in the form of a horror movie based on a stage play based on a book. Indeed, it's surprising the project got off the ground at all, given that Bram Stoker's estate was locked in a litigation battle over an unauthorized version of the story, F.W. Murnau's Nosferatu. To help drum up interest, early publicity for the movie claimed Lugosi himself was descended from European nobility. A claim that was completely unsubstantiated. Regardless, Dracula turned out to be a hit beyond all expectations, and Lugosi became instantly recognizable as the count. It wasn't until 1931 that Lugosi played the big screen role that would make him famous. After playing the titular character in Dracula on stage hundreds of times, Todd Browning's film made him a household name, and his recognizable look remains a pop culture staple to this day. But it's perhaps surprising that the man who seemed born to play Dracula didn't play the count until he was 48 years old. Still, the impact of his performance was electric. Lugosi recalled the effect that he had on women who saw him both on stage and off. Someone wrote me letters, he said, "Ah, what letters women wrote me? Young girls, women from 17 to 30, letters of a horrible hunger, asking if I cared only for maiden's blood, asking me if I had done the play because I was in reality that sort of thing." And through these letters, couched in terms of shuttering transparent fear, they ran the hideous note of hope. The success of Dracula was a huge boost to Universal, and they quickly turned to make more monster movies. Naturally, Lugosi was immediately considered for Universal's next project, Frankenstein. The actor was brought in for a screen test which sadly has not survived. At the time, Frankenstein's monster had not been designed to look like the memorable way it does now, so for the test, Lugosi wore a cheap wig. By all accounts, it only trivialized his performance. As a result of the disastrous screen test, the original director was fired, and the filmmakers began looking elsewhere for their monstrous lead. Lugosi however was reportedly uninterested in the project because of its lack of lines. I was a star in my country, he said, "I won't be a scarecrow in this one." Shaboris Karloff was cast as Frankenstein's monster instead of Legosi, one would assume these two titans of horror would have become fierce rivals. From time to time, however, there was genuine warmth in their relationship. According to Karloff, his relationship with Legosi was a little complicated. Poor old Bella, it was a strange thing. He was really a shy, sensitive, talented man who had a fine career on the classical stage in Europe, but he made a fatal mistake. He never took the trouble to learn our language. Consequently, he was very suspicious on the set, suspicious of tricks, fearful of what he regarded as scene stealing. Later when he realized I didn't go in for such nonsense, we became friends. On the other hand, Legosi's widow later said, "Bella didn't like Karloff. He thought he was a cold fish." Despite playing Dracula on stage to great success, Legosi had a hard time breaking into film. He often played supporting roles or bit parts. When Universal chose Todd Browning to direct Universal's adaptation of Dracula however, he lobbied hard to give the part to Legosi. At first, Universal was unconvinced, but Legosi volunteered to cut his salary down to $500 a week, an insultingly low figure at the time. This became a pattern for Legosi, who often found himself dramatically underselling his talents. He was constantly bankrupt, forced to accept measly offers to ward off his creditors. One of his biographers estimates Legosi from 1929 averaged less than $10,000 a year. From these earnings, one must deduct an agent's fee of 10%. Certainly, Legosi was one of the worst paid of Hollywood's so-called stars. Throughout Hollywood history, many good actors break through with a desirable role, only to find themselves stuck, playing a version of that part for the rest of their lives. But few actors had it as bad as Legosi. After his success in Dracula, he found he could not be cast as anything else. Legosi had a stranglehold on the Dracula property, so Legosi was often asked to play mad scientists and sinister hypnotists. Even in these cases, however, it is clear that he was directed to be much like the Count as possible. Legosi was able to keep a sense of humor about it, though, saying, "I discovered that every producer in Hollywood had definitely set me down as a type, an actor of this particular kind of role. After a long and varied career on the stage of two continents played anything but leads and straight characters, I was both amused and bitterly disappointed." In the late 1940s, Legosi was definitely past his prime. A string of low-quality B-movies damaged his name, and his substance use was well documented in Hollywood's circles. The comeback seemed impossible. A potential opportunity for Legosi hovered in the form of Abbott and Costello meet Frankenstein, a satire of the now-old Universal Horror franchise, and one of the few high-budget studio pictures the aging star had a real shot at getting. The only problem was the producers were somehow unaware Legosi was still alive, so he was almost passed over for the role of Dracula in the film. It was a low point for Legosi, almost being overlooked for the very part that made him famous. He was eventually cast in the spoof, but it did little to turn his fortunes around, and it was his last picture for a major studio. In 1951, Legosi returned for a final time to reprise the role that made him famous, agreeing to a short-run performances of the stage version of Dracula across smaller markets in Britain. He hoped these performances would lead to a successful run in London, but that was not to be the case. Mismanagement plagued the tour from the beginning. It was a huge mess, and though it's difficult to separate fact from fiction, it's clear it was a bitter disappointment for Legosi. Originally, Legosi hoped to gain the interest he needed after the six-week tour to reinvigorate his career. But soon, he'd been on the road for over a dozen weeks, and there was still no sign of interest from London. At 68 years old, Legosi could no longer handle the rigors of such an extended tour. He began dropping cues and saying the wrong lines. After 20 weeks on tour, the show closed, and Legosi retreated to the US. Despite his courtly demeanor, Legosi could often be temperamental and vindictive. No where is this more evident than his divorce from his fourth wife, Lillian Arch Legosi. When she filed for divorce, he wrote her a poem and a letter that while intended as a bitter sweet summation of their relationship had some troubling lines. "Dear Lillian, leave me if you can. If you think you have the strength to do it, don't even be sorry. Don't be sorry for me. Go." Lillian left. During the court documents that followed, she testified that Legosi was incredibly jealous and kept a constant watch on her. She could not even go to the dentist without his calling up to check. Since Legosi did not attend the hearing, the court sided with Lillian. Knowing Legosi did not have the money to pay her proper alimony, the judge sentenced him to pay only $1 per month. If there is one specter that haunted Legosi, it was his inability to manage money. He was always a lavish spender and a combination of his habits, addiction and an ever-growing pile of debt met Legosi spent much of his life on the edge of bankruptcy. And as his poverty forced him to accept less money for his work, his stardom faded. In the later years of his life, Legosi was often penniless. He relied on charity, often from unexpected quarters. Frank Sinatra's rumor do have made a number of anonymous donations to Legosi. Sinatra's motives for this are unknown perhaps he admired the older actor or had fond memories of his movies. Regardless, the money must have been greatly appreciated as Legosi had been reduced to a shadow of his former self, commenting to one interviewer, "Now I am the boogie man." In 1955, with his career in shambles and substance use that was out of control, Legosi checked himself into Los Angeles General Hospital's psychopathic ward. It was a remarkable step for somebody in the public eye to take, especially given the attitudes of the time. In a hearing a few days later, a judge committed Legosi to the state ward at Legosi's insistence. There, the actor read a new script by Ed Wood, and reportedly received a letter a day from Hope Linninger, one of his fans. When he was released from the ward, he was smiling and told reporters that he felt like a new man. He married Linninger soon after that. She became his fifth wife. Unfortunately, the good times were not to last long. One year later, Legosi had a heart attack in his Los Angeles home. His wife reportedly found him "unresponsive" on his bed. Legosi's service was distinguished more by who wasn't there than who was. Most of his directors, many of his co-stars and numerous friends, did not attend. Perhaps most conspicuous in absentia, was Boris Karloff, Legosi's long-time friend/rival and fellow-monster. Legosi clung to his legacy until the end and was interred wearing his costume from Dracula. Legosi was original, except the cape. Legosi's final film role is a legendary piece of schlock, planned nine from outer space. At the time of his passing, Legosi was working on a number of potential projects with filmmaker Ed Wood. One of his projects was called "The Vampire's Tomb", for which they had already shots in material. Their Legosi past would decide to build a zombie movie around the footage. To fill out the five minutes that he'd filmed with Legosi, Wood used his wife's chiropractor as a stand-in. It is laughably clear in the remaining footage that the man looks nothing whatsoever like Legosi. While some have decried this movie as a cynical cash grab on Wood's part, there is significant evidence that he meant it as a loving tribute to his friend. Legosi had become a kind of muse for Wood, offering his work illegitimacy that the rest of Hollywood denied him. When Weird Darkness returns, nearly a century has passed, and the grizzly crime committed by two sisters remains as mysterious as ever. We'll look at the peep and sisters, and the shockingly gruesome murder they committed in 1933 that horrified all the France. Plus, you think you know what Halloween is all about, but it might not, not really. I mean, after all, it wasn't always about carving. Pumpkins and Collecting Candy. For just five bucks a month, official Weirdos get every episode of Weird Darkness completely commercial-free. The bonus episodes every single week that nobody else hears, they get chapters of the audio books I'm narrating, and they hear those chapters before the authors and publishers I'm narrating them for, really, before the people who hired me. Official Weirdos also get direct access to me through personal messaging, plus inside news about the show and what I'm working on that nobody else hears about. If any of that sounds like you're kind of weird, head to WeirdDarkness.com/official and join the family. And darkness.com/official, the other official Weirdos, are anxious to meet you. On February 2nd, 1933, Christine and Leah Payton committed a gruesome crime. Were they motivated by madness, blood loss, or class warfare? To this day, we still don't know. It's just one of the many questions about this perplexing case that has gone unanswered for nearly a century. Born into a dysfunctional working-class family, the Payton sisters were raised by aunts, uncles, and a Catholic orphanage. Christine had wanted to become a nun, just like the girl's older sister, Amelia, but their mother forbade it. Instead, both Christine, born in 1905 and Leah, born in 1911, took up employment as the "help" for wealthier families. In 1926, the two sisters who preferred to work together took live-in positions as maids for Renee Lancelin, a retired solicitor who lived in Lamont's friends with his wife Leone and their adult daughter, Genevieve. By all outward appearances, things were going well. The sisters ate the same food as the rest of the family, lived in heated rooms, and were paid the standard wage of the time. Christine in particular was praised for her cooking and needlework. What wasn't so apparent was that the sisters worked 14-hour days, with only one half day off each week, and that Leone Lancelin was a demanding mistress who often performed white glove tests throughout the house and chastised the two maids severely for any perceived failings. On the night of February 2, 1933, the Lancelins were supposed to meet for dinner at the home of a family friend, and weren't expected back at the house until late. Leone and Genevieve had been out shopping, and when they returned home before dinner to find the house dark, the mistress of the house was not pleased. According to Christine and Leone the power had gone out when Christine plugged in a faulty iron. Since the family wasn't expected home until late, the sisters had decided to wait until the following morning to have the iron repaired. The sisters later testified that when they told Leone about what had happened, she flew into a rage and attacked them on the landing of the stairs. At first the two sisters were just defending themselves, especially when Genevieve joined in the fray. Or so they said. But their iron quickly went far beyond self-defense. The two sisters gouged out the eyes of their employers, and once the women were blinded and unable to fight back, beat them with a pewter pitcher and a hammer, then stabbed them with a knife taken from the kitchen. Observers of the crime scene later noted that it appeared as though the women's bodies had been scored like the loaves of bread that Christine prepared each day. Once they were done, they locked all the doors in the house and went up to their room, taking only a candle for light. That evening when his wife and daughter didn't arrive at dinner as planned, Renee Lancelund became concerned. Returning home and finding the house dark and all the doors locked, he fetched the police. The police climbed over a garden wall to access the house, where they found the gruesome crime scene. The police and the women had been beaten and mutilated to the point that they were almost impossible to recognize. Leonie's eyes were found in the folds of the scarf around her neck. One of her daughter's eyes was found underneath her body, the other on the stairs. When the police broke open the door to the sister's room, they expected to find Christine and Leah in a similar state. Instead, they found them huddled together in bed, naked. A candle was burning and there was a hammer on a nearby chair with blood and bits of hair still clinging to it. Upon being questioned by the police, the sisters immediately confessed. The story of the gruesome murder caused a firestorm in the media. Psychologists came to the defense of the women arguing both that the two sisters were suffering from "Folia do", otherwise known as "shared psychosis" or "shared delusional disorder". Meanwhile, notable French thinkers declared that the attack was a manifestation of class warfare, the inevitable result of the mistreatment and exploitation of the working class by the wealthy. As for the sisters themselves, their explanation was simpler. "I'd rather have had our bosses hides than for them to have had hours," Christine declared. While the sisters claimed self-defense, the representation cited a family history of mental illness, including a cousin who died in an asylum and an uncle who had committed suicide. The court was having none of it, however, and decided that the two sisters were guilty after only 40 minutes of the liberation. Christine was sentenced to death by a guillotine while Leah, who was the meeker of the two and was considered to abandon the thrall of her dominant older sister, was sentenced to 10 years of hard labor. You know, the siblings proved to be particularly hard on Christine. The older sister suffered bouts of depression and even one episode in which she attempted to claw out her own eyes, an event that led to her being confined to a straight jacket and also contributed to the commutation of her sentence to life in prison. At one point, authorities relented and allowed the two sisters to see each other again, at which time Christine reportedly threw herself at Leah and began unbuttoning her blouse. This, along with their having been found in bed together in the aftermath of the murders, led some to suspect an incestuous relationship between the two siblings. What we do know is that Christine eventually stopped eating, at which time she was transferred from the prison to a mental hospital in the city of Rene's. However, on May 18, 1937, she died of hechhexia, more commonly known as "wasting" as a result of refusing to eat. Leah fared better, serving only eight years of her 10-year sentence before moving to the town of Nantes under an assumed identity. There, she made a living for herself the only way she knew how, as it made. Leah Payton is thought to have died in 1982, though Claude Ventura, a French film producer, claims that he encountered her when he was working on the 2000 documentary in search of the Payton Sisters. The woman he claimed was Leah had suffered a stroke which rendered her partially paralyzed and unable to speak. She died in 2001. The documentary in search of the Payton Sisters wasn't the only film on the subject. The crime is served as the inspiration for dozens of books, movies, plays, songs, television shows, comic books, paintings, even an opera. Perhaps the most famous example is The Mades, a 1947 play by Jean-Guinette that is still staged to this day and has since been adapted to a film. The story of the Payton Sisters captured the attention of journalists, intellectuals, and psychologists of the time, and it has continued to fascinate storytellers in the years since. Though we may not know what motivated the sisters to become killers, it's a story that we have told one another over and over in an effort to understand this brutal and shocking crime. Trick or Treating Halloween Parties Costumes Carving pumpkins and haunted houses If you grew up celebrating Halloween, this is likely how you envisioned October 31st always was. But the holiday has changed a lot over the years. In fact, if you were able to time travel back and watch the Halloween origin, you probably wouldn't even recognize it. So before you start a list of Halloween costume ideas, play in your Halloween party games, set up your outdoor Halloween decor or brush up on your Halloween trivia, keep listening for the true Halloween origin story. As it exists today in the United States, Halloween is a holiday when we can all indulge in the darker, creepier side of life, and eat loads of candy. It's a lot of fun, a little spooky, and anything but serious. Historically, however, the holiday was religious in nature and extremely significant to the culture of the people who celebrated it. The word "halloween" is a contraction of the Scottish term "all Hallows Eve", which simply described the night before all Saints day. The first records we have of Halloween being used this way date back to around 1555 AD. All Saints Day started with early Christianity. In the 8th century, Pope Gregory III moved the feast of all martyrs day from May 13th to November 1st and turned it into all Saints day. Then, in 1,000 AD, the Catholic Church added all souls day, which focuses on praying for the dead on November 2nd. The evening before was subsequently called "all Hallows Eve", and then "Halloween". At that time, it was a religious day, bearing very little resemblance to the modern holiday we know now. The word "halloween" and the holiday as we've come to understand it, didn't become popular until around 1745, according to Sterling Vet. In America, "Halloween" is always celebrated on October 31st, countries that celebrate "Halloween" as we do like Canada share the same day. However, not everybody is as "Halloween" obsessed as Americans. In England, "Halloween" is generally not celebrated at all. That was a result of the Protestant Reformation. Instead, the United Kingdom celebrates a completely unrelated holiday around this time on November 5th to be precise. Guy Faustet, which revolves around the execution of an infamous trader, featured bond fires, burning effigies, and fireworks. In Mexico, people celebrate "Dia de los Bueltos" the day of the dead. While it takes place from October 31st to November 2nd, it is very different in tone from "Halloween". Yes, people do dress up as colorful skeletons and celebrate it in the streets. The point is to honor the dead and welcome their spirits back to Earth during this time, not to be fearful of them. To celebrate, people also adorn the graves of their ancestors with decorations and offer food to let them know that they've not forgotten them. "Halloween" origin traces back to "Gaelic" and "Keltic" rituals dating back at least 2,000 years, and it is from these that we get to date and many of the ways that we celebrate it. The Gaelic Festival of "Sauin" was traditionally held on the 1st of November to mark the official end of the harvest season and the beginning of winter. The celebrations always began the evening before, on the 31st of October, about halfway between the autumn equinox and the winter solstice. It also draws from the 3-day pagan religious festival celebrated by the Celts around October 31st to honor the harvest and prepare for the dark half of the year. The ancients believed that on this day, the line between the living and the spiritual realm was blurred, meaning that ghosts from beyond could visit the living and monsters could find their way into people's houses. Those celebrating aimed to ward off as much evil as possible, they held special rights to keep monsters, witches and evil fairies at bay. They told tales about mythological heroes and the underworld, and they dressed up as monsters to ward off evil and to disguise themselves so that they would not be kidnapped or consumed by actual monsters. As Christianity became more popular, it added some of the Catholic holidays that fall right around Halloween, mixing the religious and pagan traditions together. Why? Well, to help further the transition from paganism to Catholicism. And it worked. All Souls Day embraced many of "Sauin's" celebrations, including bonfires, parades and costumes. But people then started dressing up as saints, angels and devils. Hmm, starting to sound familiar? Well, most of us aren't afraid of being eaten by monsters, nor do we feel the need to celebrate the harvest. So why is Halloween stuck around then? Halloween was a tough sell in early colonial America because of the Puritans' strict religious beliefs. However, the holiday remained popular in the less religious circles, and as more and more Europeans arrived and mangled with the Native Americans, traditions evolved even further. Halloween festivities meshed with autumn festivals and featured celebratory public events, singing and dancing, ghost stories and pranks. But it wasn't until the second half of the 19th century that Halloween really became popular in the United States. Why? Well, Irish immigrants escaping the potato famine brought their ideas and traditions about Halloween along with them. In this new whimsical context, Americans adopted the Celtic tradition of dressing up and transformed it into what we now know as "tricker treating." By the 1930s, Halloween became almost completely secularized, while all Saints Day became more of a religious holiday. To this day, some devout people are strictly against celebrating October 31st as anything other than a religious day. In the late 20th and early 21st centuries, Halloween became increasingly about commercialism and profits. In fact, Americans in 2020 spent more than $8 billion on Halloween, according to the National Retail Federation. So how was Halloween celebrated these days? Gostoms, parties, toys and candy are some of the most popular ways, but there are a lot of fun Halloween traditions. Carving jackalanders. Around 1895, it became traditional to car of jackalanders with ghoulish faces. They were originally carved from turnips in the UK, but pumpkins were substituted in the US. Once carved, they were turned into lanterns and were carried by guisers to ward off any evil spirits, and because in Christian folklore, they represented a soul who had been denied entry into both heaven and hell. Thankfully, we no longer carry them around with us, which is great because that frees up the kids' hands for more candy. Yep, trick or treating. Roaming bands of costume kiddos going door to door begging for candy is probably the most time honored Halloween tradition. This custom is directly related to what is called guising, which I just mentioned, because of the disguises or costumes worn to hide from evil spirits, and can trace its origin back to the 16th century Scotland. The phrase "trick or treat" is meant to jokingly scare the homeowners into giving treats or small toys. Decorating with skulls, skeletons, and ghosts. Fake human bones, they're often displayed in silly ways on Halloween, but they are a remnant of the ancient's very serious fixation on the dead returning on October 31st, whether in spirit or with whatever's left of their mortal bodies. The imagery of the skull may also refer to the Christian tradition of Golgata, or Calvary, the hill on which Jesus crucified. The skull serves as a reminder of death being ever present amidst life, and of our short and transitory human existence. Another tradition is avoiding black cats, scarecrows, and witches. Bogies or evil spirits were a fixture in the Halloween origin, and they live on today in the form of black cats, which is another thing seen as "ulmonds" or "personifications" of that evil. Scarecrows aren't just used to scare birds away, but they're used to scare evil spirits away as well on Halloween. Bobbing for apples. I can't remember the last time I did this. Do people still do it? Well, the harvest traditions are almost forgotten in modern Halloween celebrations, or they're incorporated into Thanksgiving in November, but this classic party game reminds us of our agricultural roots. Bobbing for apples was originally a Roman party game and not related to Halloween at all, but rather true love. Apples were placed in water or hung from a string, and each was given the name of a single man or woman, and then the unwed people would try to bite the apple of the one that they wanted to marry. There's Halloween movies and haunted houses, a pretty big tradition nowadays. You wouldn't be amused if somebody holding a bloody knife chased you down an alley on a regular day, so why do people seek out terrifying experiences at Halloween time? Brightening situations, including these scary Halloween movies, release a flood of adrenaline, and door fends, and dopamine, powerful chemicals in your brain that increase feelings of excitement, alertness, and pleasure. In real life, these neurotransmitters would activate your body to fight or escape, but these Halloween activities allow us to have those feelings but in a completely safe space. Then of course, Halloween parties. I mean, what is more essential to a holiday celebration than a party? Halloween parties, they range in size from a family at home to school-wide bashes with parades to community extravagances. Parties are typically decorated in the Halloween colors, a black, orange and purple, along with silly or spooky decor. Then of course it's all about the entertainment. You put on some spooky music or do karaoke, or you watch the Weird Darkness Halloween live-screen with all your friends. Sorry, I couldn't resist the opportunity for a blatant self-plug there. Coming up, when it comes to murder investigations, the skeletons in everyone's closet, even those who are only peripheral characters in the drama can still have their darkest secrets revealed. And if I was to tell you that I had a story called The Woodchipper Murder, you might think it sounds like something out of the movie Fargo, but for Helle Nielsen, it was all too real. These stories are on the way when Weird Darkness returns. The Monitor, Flatlines, the doctor's work fast, the paddles charge, his family watches from the corner of the room, and Bob Frisbee, husband, father, lifelong pilot, feels something, snap. He wakes in a room he doesn't recognize. No windows, a door with no handle, light with no source, and seated across a carved antique table is a man with a file, an impossibly thick file, who introduces himself only as Mr. O. "You're in the waiting room," he says, "and we have a great deal to get through." Everything Bob has ever done is in that file. Every person he wronged and never faced. Every wound he carried that quietly poisoned the people around him. Every dark corner of life that looked from the outside, perfectly ordinary. Above them, a golden wheel appears, and the spokes that are dark are the ones that matter most. This isn't just a life review. Behind the veil of the world Bob thought he knew, something has been moving, ancient, deliberate, with a face that doesn't belong on anything that was ever human. There are forces here that don't want Bob to finish what he has started, and the waiting room has an escape tunnel, but Mr. O won't tell him where that leads. The waiting room, a novel by L.A. Marzouli, a researcher who has spent decades pulling back the veil on the supernatural world most people pretend isn't there, narrated by Darren Marlar. You die. Then, the reckoning begins. The waiting room by L.A. Marzouli, a new audio book available now on the audiobooks page at WeirdDarkness.com. You have to say this much for murder. It has a way of ripping off masks. Investigations at untimely and suspicious deaths have a remarkable tendency to reveal how the most seemingly normal, respectable people can have hidden sides that are embarrassing at best, and appalling at worst. Even when incidental players prove to have nothing directly to do with the crime itself, the revelations about their personal lives that are inadvertently revealed by these inquiries provide many unexpected side shows. One outstanding example came about as the result of a sudden death in a quiet Australian neighborhood. While the shung woman's demise was weird, the private lives of the main figures involved were even weirder. From May 25th, 1946, 20-year-old Audrey Cameron, a resident of Goldman, a city in New South Wales, was suffering from a severe toothache. Having no other relief but the pain handy, she took what she believed was headache powder from the purse of Gloria Emerton, a 15-year-old friend who was staying at her home and then she swallowed the dose. A few moments later, Cameron became violently ill. She went into convulsions and died within a half hour. A post-mortem revealed that the headache powder she ingested was full of strict-knight. She had taken enough poison to kill several people. Suicide was easily ruled out. Cameron had no serious personal problems and was in cheerful spirits in the period before she was poisoned. As she lay dying, Audrey cried to her parents, "Don't let me go! I don't want to leave you!" Has the poison accidentally placed in the powder at the chemist's store? That relatively innocent explanation was quickly dashed when Gloria and her mother stated that they had used some of the same powder with no ill effects. This had to have been a premeditated murder, but who was the intended target? Cameron or Gloria Emerton? And who could possibly have a motive to kill either a girl? Two years previously, Audrey had given birth to a son, William, who was being raised by her parents. At first, investigators thought the boy's father might be involved in the murder, but they soon learned that the man was an army soldier now stationed some distance away. After Audrey became pregnant, he had apparently exited her life completely. She had had no subsequent boyfriends. The police faced with a total lack of suspects and finding themselves completely at a loss to get to the bottom of the mystery placed all their hopes on the inquest into Cameron's death, which was scheduled for July 31. The date of the inquest had been set back in order to allow police and their expert witnesses to complete their investigations. As one newspaper reported confidently, the story to be given the corner will it is believed offer a solution to many of the strange features of the case. Instead, the story merely made the case even stranger. The inquest opened on a startling note. One surely may Larkham testified that the previous October, Gloria Emerton, confided to her that she was in a certain condition. She had no idea who among her numerous male friends was the father and asked if Larkham could get some stuff for her. When Larkham refused, Emerton vowed that if she could find no way to enter pregnancy, she would kill herself. A chemist named Archibald Pratt revealed that on two occasions the previous year he had sold strict nine to Gloria's mother, Mary Emerton. Note during the inquest, it was learned that Gloria's biological mother was Pamela Ford, Mary Emerton's daughter. Mary hit raised Gloria from birth. The girl had grown up believing Pamela was her sister. She'd only learned the truth about a year before. Mary Emerton admitted buying the poison but stated that it had been used to kill rabbits and foxes and that none of the strict nine had been left. Gloria denied the truth of Larkham's story. It's a lie she declared. I never said such a thing to anybody and I've never been in trouble. On the second day of the inquest, a detective testified that when he had asked Gloria if there was anyone who might have wanted to poison her, she gave the unsettling reply, only ormly Mary Emerton's son, or mum. She added, "Ormly has been cruel to me for years and mum told me I'd get myself into trouble if I told the police about it." Gloria also told how soon after the tragedy. Mum came out of the bedroom with a tin and said, "I've got some poison here and I'd better plant it because if the police find it, I'll think I had something to do with Audrey Cameron's death." Mary Emerton dismissed the girl's entire story as a wicked lie. The inquest was taking a decidedly "I Claudius" sort of turn. One Henry McGinnis testified that late the previous year he had overheard his landlady, Emily Hegrady, say to Ormly, "If you could only get rid of Gloria, you would come into your money which you are entitled to and go to Goldburn and work on your mother's property. She'd not even pay you. You were a fool." Hegrady denied having ever said any such thing and pointed out that McGinnis had an impressively long criminal record. When she took the stand, Gloria testified that before leaving home to go to the camera house, she took a packet of presto-headic powder from its usual canister and placed it in her purse. She avared that she had used powder from that same packet before and professed to have no idea how it could have become poisoned. She now denied having told police that Ormly had beaten her and regularly treated her badly. She stated that she didn't remember telling them about Mary Emerton disposing of a tin of poison. In short, the Emerton's told one version of events, the police and other witnesses, another. Despite the grim nature of the proceedings, Gloria often smiled and laughed during her testimony, earning her a "rebuke" from the coroner. After all the witnesses had spoken, the coroner gave his summing up. He stated that he had no doubt that Audrey Cameron had died of strict nine obtained from Gloria Emerton's handbag. It was clear that Cameron had believed it to be an innocent headache powder and that she had no intention of committing suicide. It was obvious that the poison could not have gotten into the wrapper accidentally. It was deliberately placed there by some person. It is quite conceivable that the poison was placed in the handbag in such circumstances that the person who did so it's not. criminally liable, but whether that is so or not, whoever did it has not come forward to tell us anything about it. It is likely that no harm to Audrey Cameron was even intended. He believed that the police had investigated every conceivable avenue of inquiry, but it remained unknown how the poison had gotten into Gloria's handbag. The coroner closed by expressing his sadness that a young girl should have lost her life in such a dreadful fashion, and he expressed his deep sympathy with the Cameron family. So that was that, a verdict of accidental death, but a death that took place under the murkiest of circumstances, circumstances that were feeded to be left completely unanswered. Gloria Emerton seemed remarkably unfazed by the unsolved mystery. After the inquest closed, she cheerily told a reporter, "Despite many things said about me during the inquest, my boyfriend still loves me. He met me at a skating rink after he had finished at the technical college. I was lucky to be alive. I could easily have taken the poison myself." The case of Helly Crafts was the first Connecticut murder case that was tried without a body. Well, sort of. Helly Crafts was born Helly Nielsen. She was an only child, born July 7, 1947, in Denmark. She grew up in a small village and enjoyed school. She spoke French and English and understood German, Norwegian and Swedish. She attended college in England and later moved to France where she worked as an opair until taking a job as an airline attendant with capital airways. She loved to travel. When she learned Pan American Airlines was looking for flight attendants, she applied and got the job. She was sent to Miami, Florida for training, and it was in Miami that she met Richard Crafts. Richard was born December 20, 1937, in New York City. He was not a great student, and after some time in college, he decided the military was the way to go. He joined the Marines where he learned to fly. After he left the military, he worked as a pilot. Helly and Richard started a relationship, despite the fact that he was already engaged. Helly became pregnant in 1975 and the couple married in 1979 and settled in Newtown, Connecticut. In the 1980s, Newtown was a very quiet place, rural with plenty of lakes and streams. The couple had three children, and both parents continued to work. Helly as a flight attendant, Richard as a pilot, in addition to taking on a job as an auxiliary policeman. The couple had no money problems, and fact their combined income placed them within the top 5% of wage earners in America. As an auxiliary policeman, Richard earned no wage, and often responded to police calls without authorization. He secured a job in nearby South Burry, where he was paid $7 an hour, and even paid for expensive training seminars, which taught him police procedure. Richard controlled all the money and the relationship, which allowed him to purchase whatever he wished without Helly's knowledge. He collected guns, and even invested a great deal of money in landscaping equipment, which seemed to go unused. They hired and opair, Don Thomas, to help with the children, as both Helly and Richard traveled a lot for work. They were well-liked in the community, some went so far as to say that they were the perfect family, but appearances can be deceiving. It was not uncommon for Helly to appear in public with bruises on her face. One of her friends later reported to police that Helly was being abused by her husband. Richard would disappear for days at a time, never saying where he was going. By 1985, Helly learned that Richard was engaged in multiple affairs. That September, she met with divorce attorney Diane Anderson, who encouraged her to hire a private investigator. She hired Oliver Mayo, and as much as it peened her, he did his job, and caught photos of Richard kissing another flight attendant outside her home in New Jersey. On November 18, 1986, Helly returned to Newtown after a long flight from Frankfurt, West Germany. She got arrived from another flight attendant, and when she arrived at home, she knew Richard and the kids were home. She was excited, especially with Thanksgiving coming up. A massive, uncharacteristic snowstorm rolled in. The snow was wet and heavy, causing power outages throughout Newtown. When Richard woke the next morning, power had still not been restored to their area. Richard woke Dawn and the children up. He asked her to hurry and take them to a sister's house in Westport where they still had power. When she asked him where Mrs. Crafts was, he told her that she had gotten not a bed, dressed, took her flight bags, and left the house an hour earlier. At his sister Karen's house, he told her that he would return later that day, after returning home to check on the electricity. Once the power was restored, he picked up the children and returned home. Two days later, on November 20, Helly had not shown up for work. A colleague called Richard, who told her that she had just called him from Europe. Helly said he had gone to Denmark to see her sick mother for a few days. He informed her that she had taken her flight luggage and parked her car in the Pan-American Airlines employee car park. He gave the same story to the nanny and the children. After an additional three days, Helly's car remained untouched. Items that had been in her car after her last trip to Germany remained in the backseat. Her friends knew that it was uncharacteristic of her to leave without saying anything to them, so something was wrong. By the 29th, Lena Johansson, a friend, obtained Helly's mother's phone number in Denmark. Upon calling, however, they were informed that her mother was not ill, and she had not seen Helly. In fact, she didn't expect to see her until the following April. He didn't help that Richard kept feeding them different stories, even once admitting that he did not know her whereabouts. Concerning them even more was the fact that Helly had told them about Richard's volatile temper, even saying, "If something happens to me, don't think it was an accident." On December 1st, they moved forward and filed a missing persons report. Helly's friends relayed to police their concerns about Richard. They told them about Helly's fears that if anything happened, it would not be an accident. They believed this extended to her disappearance. Detectives brought in Richard who maintained his story that she had gotten up early, dressed, took her flight bags and left. Detectives interviewed Don Thomas who held nothing back, telling them about the morning of November 19th when she and the kids were rushed to Richard's sister's house. She told them that they left around 6.30 a.m., and Richard didn't linger. He quickly rushed off and didn't return until 7 p.m. that evening. Later that evening, when she inquired again about Helly's whereabouts, Richard told her that he didn't know. It wasn't until the next morning, when she asked once again, that she was given the story about Helly going to visit her mother in Denmark. Don began to notice things like pieces of carpet that had been cut out and were missing from the master bedroom. Richard had an explanation though, it spilled, caracene, and it needed to be replaced. Newtown police asked Richard if he would submit to a lie detector test. He agreed, and passed, with no deception being recorded. However, during this time, he did admit to lying about the story he gave regarding Helly's visiting her mother. He told police that he and Helly were having difficulties and he didn't want to air his dirty laundry. While lie detector tests are not admissible in court, usually the concern is around those who fail. Richard passed, but some detectives, and even Oliver Mayo believed he was still somehow involved. On December 11th, Richard was again questioned. He had an answer for everything. Did you know that your wife hired a private investigator? No. Why would your wife tell her friends that she was afraid for herself regarding serving you divorce papers and tell them to check on her if something happened? I cannot imagine her saying this. It's completely out of character for her to say this. What's the story with your bedroom rug? Apparently you removed it or cut some pieces out of it. Can you explain this to me? All the rugs on the house are being removed and replaced. What was spilled on your rug in the bedroom? Kerosene. Did you cut pieces out of the rug? Yes, two feet at a time. It's easier to remove it that way. What did you do with the rug you took out of the bedroom? I dumped the bedroom rug and then due to landfill a week ago. It was blue in color. Mayo convinced Richard had done something with Helly, felt that he needed to do something. He recruited a few helpers and they took a trip to the landfill. Days of searching through garbage paid off though when they located a piece of rug nearly identical to the one that had been cut out. Unfortunately no blood evidence was found. Police pulled Richard's bank and credit card statements where they found several odd purchases made around the time of Helly's disappearance. A freezer that was not found in the home. Bed sheets, a comforter, and a wood jipper. There was also a receipt for a chain saw that was later recovered in late Zor, covered in hair and blood which matched Helly's DNA. Joseph Hein, a local man who worked for the town of Southbury and happened to drive a snow plow, reported that on the night of November 18th, while he was plowing the roads, he noticed a rental truck with a wood shipper attached, parked close to the shore of Lake Zor. He didn't think much of it until the search of the craft's house made news. Helly was able to lead detectives to the location where they found several small pieces of metal? human tissue, a fingernail with pink nail polish, bone chips, human hair, the crown of a tooth, and type O blood. Healy had typo. At Healy been killed, her remains fed through a woodchipper. With the help of a forensic dentist, the tooth crown was positively matched to Healy's dental records. Though they did not have a body, they could conclude that Healy was dead, likely hitting the head and stored in the missing freezer until she was frozen solid. Her body was then cut into pieces with the chainsaw, then fed through the woodchipper, which projected her remains into the rental truck. The Connecticut State Medical Examiner's office issued a death certificate on January 13, 1987, and Richard was immediately arrested. The state medical examiner obtained a pig carcass that was fed through a woodchipper, expecting the pig's bone chips afterwards showed similar results as the ones found by the lake. Richard Kraft's trial began in May 1988 in New London, and ended in July with a hung jury, when a single juror voted in favor of a quiddle before walking out of deliberations and refusing to return. The second trial in November 1989, this time in Norwalk, resulted in a guilty verdict. Richard Kraft's was sentenced to 50 years in prison. Interestingly, he never served the whole sentence. Connecticut once had "good time" legislation, which allowed a considerable amount of time to be shaved off an inmates' sentence for good behavior. After serving just 32 years, Richard was released in January 2020 to Isaiah House, a halfway house in Bridgeport, and then to a shelter for homeless veterans. Thanks for listening. If you like the show, please share it with someone you know who loves the paranormal or strange stories, true crime, monsters, or unsolved mysteries like you do. All stories in Weird Darkness are purported to be true unless stated otherwise, and you can find source links or links to the authors in the show notes. Weird Darkness is a production and trademark of Marlor House Productions, and now that we're coming out of the dark, I'll leave you with a little light. 2 Timothy 1 verse 7, "For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and love, and of a sound mind." And a final thought from Robert Anton Wilson, horror, such as in novels and films, is the natural reaction to the last 5,000 years of history. I'm Darren Marlor. Thanks for joining me in The Weird Darkness.