RetailAnn Rule presents another collection of fascinating and disturbing true-crime stories—drawn from her real-life personal files—in this seventeenth volume in the #1 New York Times bestselling Crime Files series. Three decades ago, Jackie Schut was considered one of the most prolific “baby sellers” in the country. She traveled all over the US, murdered women who had just borne babies, and then stole their infants. She is still imprisoned in the South.A lovely, vibrant woman in San Antonio was found dead in a vacant lot. Her mother, a popular local realtor, never stopped looking for her killer. Just months ago, a truly unlikely suspect was found many states away. At last, the seemingly impossible case to solve had answers no one ever considered.On Christmas Day three years ago, two grandparents, their son, his wife, their two small boys, their daughter, and her boyfriend gathered to celebrate the holiday. For reasons that are still almost impossible to contemplate, the sister and her boyfriend shot and killed everyone in the room.In these chilling true stories, Ann Rule reveals the dark underside of the American family unit—together and torn apart. Her unforgettable accounts will intrigue you, and once again prove the obvious: that Rule is “America’s best true-crime writer” (Kirkus Reviews). Views: 32
It is 1792, over ten years since Britain's defeat by the American colonies, and the bitter humiliation still sticks in the Admiralty's craw. Now brutal smugglers, many of them naval deserters, occupy the Channel, plying their trade between England and France. Richard Bolitho's mission: to take three speedy topsail cutters and fight the treacherous raiders off the coast of Kent. Views: 31
Spring 1802,and the Peace Treaty of Amiens, signed only a few weeks earlier, is already showing signs of collapse. Britain and France wrangle over the return of colonial possessions won and lost during their long, bloody war and in the little 64-gun Achates, Vice-Admiral Richard Bolitho sails for America and the Caribbean. Views: 30
A Pulitzer Prize–winning journalist's groundbreaking account of the crime that shocked New York City—and the world In the early hours of March 13, 1964, twenty-eight-year-old Catherine "Kitty" Genovese was stabbed to death in the middle-class neighborhood of Kew Gardens, Queens. The attack lasted for more than a half hour—enough time for Genovese's assailant to move his car and change hats before returning to rape and kill her just a few steps from her front door. Yet it was not the brutality of the murder that made it international news. It was a chilling detail Police Commissioner Michael Joseph Murphy shared with A. M. Rosenthal of the New York Times: Thirty-eight of Genovese's neighbors witnessed the assault—and none called for help. To Rosenthal, who had recently returned to New York after spending a decade overseas and would become the Times's longest-serving executive editor, that startling... Views: 30
Falmouth, September 1803: As Bolitho faces the grim reality of war at close quarters, he will be called upon to anticipate the strategies of the French fleet. But the conflict has also taken on a personal note, reviving his vendetta with the French Admiral, Jobert, who once commanded the Argonaute. Views: 29
The tenth Richard Bolitho novel in Alexander Kent's spectacularly successful series deals with Bolitho's life as a young lieutenant aboard the Trojan, an eighty-gun ship of the line.The year is 1777 when the revolution in America has erupted into a full-scale war. The navy's main task is to prevent military supplies from reaching Washington's armies and to destroy the fast-growing fleet of French and American privateers. As a junior officer Bolitho is often bewildered by swiftly changing events, but in a ship of the line, under a hard and determined captain, he has little opportunity for uncertainty. At a time of shortages and sudden death even a lieutenant can find himself faced with tasks and decisions more suitably given to officers of greater experience - and as the Trojan goes about her affairs the threat to Bolitho and his companions makes itself felt from New York to the Caribbean. Views: 29
A ship's pilot legendary for guiding mammoth freighters through the narrows of Puget Sound, Rolf Neslund was a proud Norwegian, a ladies' man, and a beloved resident of Washington State's idyllic Lopez Island. Virtually indestructible even into his golden years, he made electrifying headlines more than once: after a ship he was helming crashed into the soaring West Seattle Bridge, causing millions in damages; and following his inexplicable disappearance at age 80. Was he a suicide, a man broken by one costly misstep? Had he run off with a lifelong love? Or did a trail of gruesome evidence lead to the home Rolf shared with his wife, Ruth? On an island where everyone thought they knew their neighbors, the veneer of the Neslunds' marriage masked a convoluted case that took many years to solve. And, indeed, some still believe that the old sea captain will come home one day. "The Sea Captain" is a classic tale as blood chilling as murder itself. Along with six other equally riveting, detailed accounts of destruction and murder committed without conscience or regret, Ann Rule takes readers into frightening places they never could have imagined in No Regrets.From Publishers WeeklyStarred Review. Prolific and talented true crime author Rule proves her warranted reputation as one of the genre's leading lights with the 11th entry in her Crime Files series. Two-thirds of the book is devoted to one case, the disappearance of an elderly sea captain from his quiet community of Lopez Island in Washington State. As with many of the stories recounted in previous volumes, Rule succeeds in pulling the reader into a mystery that was largely of local concern. With a novelist's skill, she brings to life the missing Norwegian mariner, Rolf Neslund, and his difficult marriage to Ruth Myers, who became the prime suspect after he vanished without a trace. Handicapped by the absence of a corpse, the local authorities, inexperienced in homicide inquiries, doggedly persisted over years until justice was won. The richness of this case does have the unintended effect of rendering the shorter sketches that follow—including the tale of a woman beaten into a coma, a murder victim found months after the fact and a young bank robber—less compelling, but few genre fans will complain; the Neslund case speaks for itself, as does Rule's skill as a storyteller. (Nov.) Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved. About the AuthorAnn Rule is a former Seattle policewoman and the author of more than two dozen New York Times bestsellers. She is a certified instructor for police training seminars and lectures frequently to law enforcement officers, prosecutors, and forensic science organizations, including the FBI. For more than two decades, she has been a powerful advocate for victims of violent crime. A graduate of the University of Washington, she holds a Ph.D. in Humane Letters from Willamette University. She lives near Seattle and can be contacted through her website AnnRules.com. Views: 28
Andrew Fraser's bestselling and controversial true-crime memoirs are now beingadapted into an exciting new television series called Killing Time! After being convicted and disbarred, Fraser became the confidant of one ofAustralia's most notorious serial killers, Peter Dupas. What he learned madehim the Homicide Squad's secret weapon. Angry at his treatment in jail and athis excessive sentence, the long-time defence lawyer enjoyed the irony of hissituation: the authorities who destroyed his career now needed his cooperation. There was never any doubt that Andrew would give evidence, even though heknew that the defence would try to destroy his credibility, dredging up the pasthe so desperately wanted to forget. Fraser paints a vivid picture of the grim,terrifying and futile reality of maximum security prison life and of his time spentwith the murderers, psychopaths and paedophiles. Lunatic Soup relates hisharrowing experiences of the justice system, as a prisoner, and on the... Views: 28
FROM TRUST TO TERROR... FROM SECURITY TO SURVIVAL The author of The Stranger Beside Me brings her brilliantly informed understanding of the sociopath to this riveting truecrime collection. Only Ann Rule, who unknowingly worked alongside the smart and charming Ted Bundy -- America's most notorious serial killer -- could lend her razor-sharp insight into these cases of the spouse, lover, family member, or helpful stranger who is totally trusted but whose lethally violent nature, though masterfully disguised, can and will kill. Featured here is the case of a Southern California family man who appeared to be the picture of healthy living with his expertise in naturopathic healing. Luring a beautiful flight attendant into a passionate affair, he swept her away to a secluded home on the Oregon coast where his jealous rages escalated, ultimately leading to a brutal sex attack in which she believed she would die. How this brave victim survived, never knowing her tormentor's whereabouts, and how he resurfaced, forcing a tragic end for all involved, makes this one of Ann Rule's most compelling narratives. Other cases include that of the woman who masterminded her husband's murder to gain his inheritance...the monstrous sadist whose prison release damaged a presidential candidate's campaign and ended in a bitter double tragedy in a quiet neighborhood three thousand miles away...the shocking DNA link between a cold-blooded crime and a cold case...and inside the horrific case of the man who crossed an ocean and several countries to stalk the Eurasian beauty who had fled from him in desperation.About the AuthorAnn Rule is a former Seattle policewoman and the author of more than two dozen New York Times bestsellers. She is a certified instructor for police training seminars and lectures frequently to law enforcement officers, prosecutors, and forensic science organizations, including the FBI. For more than two decades, she has been a powerful advocate for victims of violent crime. A graduate of the University of Washington, she holds a Ph.D. in Humane Letters from Willamette University. She lives near Seattle and can be contacted through her website AnnRules.com. Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.Chapter OneMay 2008Pacific Northwest residents were enjoying the sixth warm day of the year after a very long, very rainy winter. There was no better place to be on a day like this than in the town of Gig Harbor, Washington. Once a seaside hamlet where almost everyone knew everyone else, Gig Harbor's ideal location made the town's population grow by leaps and bounds. The original town had clustered around the harbor itself, but now there were new developments and shopping malls on both sides of the I-16 freeway that raced from the western end of the soaring Narrows Bridge in Tacoma, Washington, to the Bremerton navy shipyards. The Washington Corrections Center for Women was located a few miles away in Purdy, but Gig Harbor hadn't known much crime -- until recently. From 2006 to 2007, a series of appalling murders reminded people who lived in Gig Harbor that there really is no completely safe place anywhere. On a balmy spring Saturday in 2006, David Brame, the police chief of the City of Tacoma, stalked his pretty young wife, Crystal, with deadly intensity. She had finally gotten the nerve to separate from him, and he would not allow that. In a crowded shopping mall in Gig Harbor, with their two small children in the backseat of their mother's car, Brame fatally wounded his wife with his service revolver before committing suicide. Passersby rushed to remove the children from the car and shield them from seeing any more horror than they already had. Brame was dead, but Crystal lingered in critical condition for several days while family, friends, and strangers prayed that she might survive to raise her children. She could not come back from her massive brain injuries, although she fought a good fight. Ten months later, in March 2007, an older couple died in Gig Harbor in a murder-suicide in their own home. It was difficult to say which tragedy shocked locals the most. The two deadly encounters made headlines in Seattle, Tacoma, and Spokane, and the news flashed throughout the Internet, touching lives far away, too. Even so, there are still numerous pockets of serenity in Gig Harbor. None seem quite as safe as a small development a half mile from the original downtown. The residents there are all over fifty, and bylaws of the community are strict. None of the homes are sprawling or flashy, all are painted a discreet gray and white. The streets are named with sailing terms, such as Dockside Drive, Tideland Terrace, Windy Way, and Jib Sail, and they wind around in a series of curves and cul-de-sacs. The homes at the front of the neighborhood have wonderful views of the harbor, the Dalco and Colvos passages that curve west of Vashon Island, leading to Puget Sound beyond. Most of the others have at least a peek at the view, and the tall fir trees in Grandview Forest Park creep up to their backyards, swaying and sighing in the wind off the water. There are islands in the streets to discourage speeding; they're about fifteen feet across, all covered with bushes and flowers. Each velvet-green yard shows the loving care of its residents: Japanese maples, rhododendrons, azaleas, dogwoods, tulips, daffodils, and heather abound in the spring, and hydrangeas, lavender, petunias, gladiolas, and dahlias blossom in full summer. But there is one small house that stands empty. Its lot, like all the others, is very small -- perhaps eight feet away from the neighbors' windows. It's a sweet house, once the beloved home of an elderly woman. Now it almost seems to vibrate, sending out a chill feeling of terror, oppression, and perhaps insanity. It was very difficult for me to park in its driveway for even ten minutes. Everything in me seemed to scream: "Leave! Get away from here...now!"I didn't listen. I had a story to tell. Sometimes the month of May felt to her like a replay of one long bad dream, bringing back memories too frightening to explore, too intrusive to ignore. Every spring, the dark-haired woman felt a flash of another recollection, playing across her mind like a video clip. Try as she might, she could never erase it before it finished playing. May 1999The sun had become a narrow sliver on the western horizon, and then it was gone, swallowed up by the Pacific Ocean, and leaving the woods dark as pitch as she ran for her life. She couldn't see where she was going, but that meant he couldn't see her either. For that she was grateful. He had promised her that this was the night she was going to die, and she didn't doubt his intention. Her only chance to survive was to reach her neighbors' house before he caught up with her. She was barefoot and naked, but that didn't matter. She barely felt the thorns and little stones on the forest floor, the sharp gravel of the long driveway, the scratches etched in her skin by the fir and pine boughs and the blackberries that sprang suddenly out of the dark all around her. She marveled that she had never run so fast in her life, almost levitating as she plunged through the trees and boulders. Adrenaline surged through her body despite the aching in her lungs; she was a constant hiker on the beach far below, but she hadn't run for years. Now she ran. She thought she heard him behind her. It seemed impossible that this was the man she had admired, longed for, and been ecstatically happy with, back when the time they could be together had finally arrived. They had been through so much, and for a while it had looked like all their hopes and plans for the future were actually going to come true. She'd followed his lead without a single doubt, because he was strong, capable, and charismatic. And kind. Once, she could not even imagine leaving him, but now she wanted only to be free, and to keep from dying at his hands. It was May 29, 1999, the Saturday of Memorial Day weekend, when it all fell apart. Most people who lived on the Oregon coast or who had traveled there for the holiday weekend were having picnics and camping out. It was the first three-day weekend of the year when they could reasonably expect the weather to be warm and sunny, and the whole coastline from Astoria to Brookings was wondrous as summer rapidly headed in. In the winter, Oregon beach towns were subdued, cloaked in misty rain and fog, and year-round residents enjoyed the peace that descended when the tourists left. Gold Beach was no different. The couple whose lives collided in a scene of horror had believed that Gold Beach would be their Shangri-la. On one of their many driving trips around the country, both of them had been taken with the little town. It seemed almost a Brigadoon of tranquility and natural beauty. Located about twenty miles from the California border on twisting Highway 101, Gold Beach had once been strictly a logging town with rugged roots, but its incredible views of the Pacific Ocean and the sea stacks -- rock towers rising high above the surf -- drew tourists, too. Californians flocked to Gold Beach, beachcombing from Cape Sebastian to Cape Ferrelo, enjoying the virtual wilderness just beyond town and the endless surging waves of the Pacific Ocean. Their increasing presence providentially offered a new industry to Gold Beach as the logging faded. Small businesses sprang up, catering to visitors with art, theater, and wine festivals. Steelhead and trout fishing had long been popular with true aficionados on the roaring Rogue River that coursed to the sea near Gold Beach, but jet boats soon offered sightseeing trips up the Rogue. Hollywood came to the Rogue River to make movies, and a number of famous stars built sylvan retreats there. Publicity penned glowingly by entrepreneurs pointed out that tiny Gold Beach had more hours of sun on any given day than any other town located on the Oregon and Washington coastlines. Old-timers hated to see the metamorphosis of Gold Beach from a place where everyone cared about one another to a tourist magnet, but they acknowledged that people had to have a way to make a living. On their first trip, one couple from California drove around Gold Beach, dined at a restaurant owned by locals, and fell in love with the small town. One of their goals was to come back someday, not as tourists but to live there. And they did. But by the time they returned to Gold Beach, their relationship was riddled with arguments, disappointments, and quite probably even lies. Moving there was supposed to be another chance for them. Perhaps neither could foresee what might happen if they failed. Perhaps one of them did. She sometimes thought back to where they'd begun, when their meeting had seemed so serendipitous. The circuitous route that most people take to meet that one person romantically dubbed the love of their lives makes one marvel that anyone ever finds that person. Sometimes those fated to meet -- for one reason or another -- cross each other's paths a few times before the timing is right. Or wrong, in some cases. Lifelong love or friendship -- or endless unhappiness -- may result. All perceptions of love and romance seem great at the start. Kathy Ann Jewell was born in Mount Vernon, Ohio -- in Knox County -- as the second half of the twentieth century began. Mount Vernon is about halfway between Mansfield and Columbus. As a teenager, I spent one summer in Mansfield visiting my aunt and uncle. All I recall of note was the surprise elopement of Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall, a huge social event for Mansfield. Bogart had extricated himself from his third marriage so he could marry the much younger Bacall. She was twenty and he was forty-five, and their affair was the talk of Hollywood when they were married at author Louis Bromfield's farm estate. Kathy Ann -- who soon was called just Kate -- wouldn't remember that, of course; she was only a baby at the time. Her father, Harold Jewell, worked in her uncle's appliance store, as both a salesman and a repair specialist. The first television sets were hitting the market, and the American public was e... Views: 28
Now living in New York, ex-cop Frank Clemons investigates a brutal slashing The sleek high-rises of Park Avenue make Frank Clemons uneasy. The former Atlanta homicide detective came to New York after a sickening murder case soured him on the South, but despite the glitz of his new surroundings and the beauty of the woman he shares them with, the city makes his skin crawl. Now a private eye, he is only at ease in the city's darker corners, among the whores, gamblers, and pimps who call Eighth Avenue home. That affinity for the isolated is what draws him to Hannah Karlsberg, an elderly seamstress who deserved a better death than she got. Hannah's employer asks Clemons to find the victim's next of kin, so the police can release the body for burial. As he learns about the dead woman's past, which stretches back to the Lower East Side of the 1930s, Clemons becomes obsessed with unearthing the decades-old secret that led to her death. Views: 28
"America's best true-crime writer" (Kirkus Reviews), Ann Rule presents an all-new collection of crime stories drawn from her private files -- and featuring the riveting case of a fraudulent doctor whose lifelong deceptions had deadly consequences. LAST DANCE LAST CHANCEDr. Anthony Pignataro was a cosmetic surgeon and a famed medical researcher whose flashy red Lamborghini and flamboyant lifestyle in western New York State suggested a highly successful career. But appearances, as this shocking insider account of Pignataro's tailspin from physician to prisoner proves, can be deceiving -- and, for the doctor's wife, very nearly deadly. No one was safe if they got in his way. With scalpel, drugs, and arsenic, he betrayed every oath a physician makes -- until his own schemes backfired. Now, the motivations of the classic sociopath are plumbed with chilling accuracy by Ann Rule. Along with other shocking true cases, this worldwide headline-making case will have you turning pages in disbelief that a trusted medical professional could sink to the depths of greed, manipulation, and self-aggrandizement where even slow, deliberate murder is not seen for what it truly is: pure evil.ReviewMaster of the true-crime genre CHICAGO TRIBUNE No writer in America has ever probed the dark heart of a killer so deeply Edna Buchanan Devastatingly accurate insight. NEW YORK TIMES About the AuthorAnn Rule is a former Seattle policewoman and the author of more than two dozen New York Times bestsellers. She is a certified instructor for police training seminars and lectures frequently to law enforcement officers, prosecutors, and forensic science organizations, including the FBI. For more than two decades, she has been a powerful advocate for victims of violent crime. A graduate of the University of Washington, she holds a Ph.D. in Humane Letters from Willamette University. She lives near Seattle and can be contacted through her website AnnRules.com. Views: 27
