Is it possible? That the saga of Elizabeth Holmes, as long and drawn out as it was, has finally reached its conclusion?
Since we last spoke, Holmes’s co-conspirator (and erstwhile May-December lover) Sunny Balwani has been sentenced to about 13 years in the federal slammer.
We also learned that the ever-enceinte Holmes is likely to spend her decade-and-change sentence at FCP Bryan, a minimum-security facility just 90 minutes from where she grew up. (Also that Holmes booked a one-way ticket to Mexico back in January 2022, shortly after her conviction. Speaking of flight risks, might I recommend indie rock duo Tommy Lefroy’s song of the same name? It’s 59 seconds of ethereal, bittersweet longing.)
Given the fact that Holmes will be doing her time in Texas, one could say that the Houston-reared Holmes has come full circle, so to speak.
You know what else comes full circle? Eels.
I just finished reading Patrik Svensson’s excellent volume The Book of Eels, and while not a true crime text per se, Svensson’s account of Anguilla anguilla (aka the European eel) is mysterious and fascinating. Among the many eel facts I learned is this: eels are born and die in the same place—the Sargasso Sea.
The eel does not simply hang out in the Sargasso Sea, a massive aquatic expanse lying at the intersection of four different ocean currents, for its entire life. Rather, in its larval stage, it journeys thousands of miles—between 3,000 and 6,000 miles, to be exact—drifting along until it reaches the waterways of Europe.
At a certain point (when, exactly, depends on the individual eel itself, but it can range from a few years to multiple decades), after living in Europe for a while, the eel makes that same journey back to the Sargasso Sea, where it breeds and then dies.
Lest you think I’m likening Ms. Holmes to a cold-blooded slitherer (“You’re as charming as an eel,” or so the Grinch song goes—it was playing non-stop in my local grocery store this winter, which might have been why I sought out Svesson’s book in the first place), I’m not. But I do think it is interesting how things sometimes…you know…begin and end in the same place.
Sorry I don’t have something more profound to say than that. Blame it on the weather. My Floridian cerebrum requires temperatures of at least 70°F to function properly.
One more aside before I let you get to the good stuff: the other day, I was bothering my partner by reading aloud from an old edition of Bartlett’s Quotations (aka the analog version of BrainyQuote—your grandmother probably has a copy in her basement). I turned a random page and—I swear I’m not making this up for the sake of cute narrative—the quote that stared back at me was the following Goethe gem: “One never goes so far as when one doesn’t know where one is going.”
The European eel certainly goes far, but no matter which European waterway it winds up spending its adult years in, it knows where it needs to end up: back in the Sargasso Sea.
Did Elizabeth Holmes know where she was going to end up? Or did ambition, greed, and self-deception cloud her judgment to the point where her ultimate destination became unknown even to her?
For that answer, dear friends, you’ll need to ask Ms. Holmes herself.
Deadliest Decade (ID) – Premiered August 2022
As a self-identified middle-aged millennial, I’m more than a little confused by the recent Gen-Z obsession with digital cameras. It just seems…weird.
Then I remember my own teenage penchant for floral babydoll dresses, fishnet stockings, flannel shirts, and chunky Doc Martens—the same grunge-era look my older sister and her friends were rocking while I was a mere unfertilized egg in one of my mother’s fallopian tubes.
The word “anemoia” does not refer to a type of free-floating sea vegetation in which eels might presumably breed, but, rather, “nostalgia for a time or place one has never known.”
Teen-me was certainly engaging in some anemoic tendencies while channeling Courtney Love circa 1991 in circa-2008 Massachusetts. And thirtysomething me is getting all anemoic again while listening to Deadliest Decade.
If you don’t subscribe to Discovery+ (where you’ll find all episodes of Deadliest Decade’s TV version), never fear: the newest addition to ID’s podcast roster will still teleport you back to the ‘80s and ‘90s. If you’re looking for an episode to sink your teeth into first, might I suggest “The New Girl,” which chronicles the 1992 murder of Shanda Sharer.
Death By Fame (ID) – Premiered January 9, 2023
Readers, I have a confession to make: when I was young (I’m talking between the ages of, oh, I don’t know, zero and seventeen), I wanted nothing more than to be famous.
It didn’t matter how, it didn’t matter when (well, sooner, rather than later would be ideal) but it had to happen. I had to become famous. Otherwise, as far as I was concerned, my life would have no meaning.
I scoured the newspaper’s classifieds section (remember those?) for casting calls and made my mother drive me to local auditions. (Surprise: I never got any callbacks.)
At home, I sang in the shower until my throat hurt, cut terrible “demos” using GarageBand, and forced my younger brothers to take moody “headshots” of me so I could send them to modeling agencies.
Needless to say, none of my efforts paid off; I did not (and, as of this writing, have still not) become famous.
Maybe part of the problem was my “throw-spaghetti-at-the-wall-and-see-what-sticks” approach to the fame game. Instead of picking one field (say, singing or acting or modeling—dancing was out of the question—in fifth grade, my friends informed me that I was a terrible dancer and that nothing could be done to remedy the situation, so I should stop trying), I tried a little bit of everything.
Despite all the hours of wailing to which I subjected my E-Kara karaoke machine, all the time I spent practicing (despite my friends’ admonishments) my dance moves to a VHS tape of Dance! Workout with Barbie, and monologues I practiced in my bedroom, it never amounted to anything. What I couldn’t see back then was this: Practice did not make perfect if you were not very good to begin with.
I don’t think I’m entirely to blame for being so singularly focused on the pursuit of fame during those years. I was a product of a particular cultural moment: I was eleven when Vanity Fair’s iconic “It’s Totally Raining Teens!” issue hit newsstands (I still remember that fateful day in the Publix checkout line when those nine famous stared back at me—I wanted more than anything to be one of them), twelve and thirteen when Perez Hilton and TMZ set up shop respectively.
Like its sister show Deadliest Decade, Death by Fame is somewhat of a time warp, one that catapults me (in its early episodes anyway) right back to the era of Blackberries and paparazzi crotch shots. Helmed by LA-based criminal defense attorney Sara Azari (the Super Lawyer is a legend in Southern California legal circles), Death by Fame examines cases in which the limelight took a lethal toll. Cases profiled include the mysterious death of Brittany Murphy and the supposed “Glee curse.”
Maybe it’s not such a bad thing that my dream of being famous never came true…
Storm of Suspicion (The Weather Channel Originals) – Premiered January 5, 2023
If, like me, you grew up in Florida, you’re no doubt familiar with the phenomenon known as the hurricane drill. A few times a year (usually in the fall, when hurricane season is still in full swing), you and your classmates are shepherded into the bathroom.
Once inside that porcelain palace, you all sit cheek to jowl, mosquito-bitten limbs sticking to cool tile, pretending to wait out a fake hurricane. (The class clown usually provides the spooky sound effects.) If you’re lucky, a hurricane drill might present the perfect opportunity for some clandestine cuddling with your crush. Unlucky? You might end up with your face pressed up against the toilet bowl. (I was usually in the latter category.)
This is not to say that we young denizens of Manatee County thought hurricanes were a joke. We took the real ones seriously—and still do, as evidenced by the lead-up to Hurricane Ian this past September.
Still, hurricanes were part and parcel of living in this paradise, as natural as the scent of burning orange peels that permeated the air in December (courtesy of the nearby Tropicana plant) and clouds of stuck-together love bugs that materialized every May.
Through it all, in this pre-smartphone, pre-WiFi age, The Weather Channel was our go-to source for all things meteorological, providing a 24-7 drip of what to expect when you live in the nation’s most hurricane-prone state.
While you might not think of The Weather Channel as a source of bone-chilling thrills (unless we’re talking about the arctic blast set to surge across the central US this week), you haven’t yet met Storm of Suspicion.
Extreme weather events, given their ability to embroil civilians and law enforcement alike in preparation and/or evacuation measures (not to mention how rain, wind, and storm surges can wipe away forensic evidence completely) can present some ne’er-do-wells the opportunity to commit the seemingly “perfect crime.” Or not. Sometimes the weather (e.g. high tides, flooding, melting snow) can unearth what might otherwise remain buried or submerged.
You don’t have to be a storm chaser to enjoy Storm of Suspicion, a show that highlights cases where weather was the make-or-break factor in catching a killer. Recently profiled cases include that of Crystal McDowell, a Texas mother of two who disappeared in 2017 during Hurricane Harvey.
Chameleon: Dr. Dante (Campside Media/Sony) – Premiered January 9, 2023
Given the fact that I am a consummate con man/woman connoisseur, I was surprised when the grifter at the center of Chameleon’s latest season was someone I had never heard of: Dr. Ronald Dante.
Unlike other scam artists, Dr. Dante (who—surprise!—isn’t a real doctor) wasn’t a one-con type of guy. Instead, his scams (mostly pseudo-educational in nature) ranged from hypnosis courses to a permanent make-up academy to a diploma mill promising a university degree in only 27 days!
Even if you haven’t heard of Dr. Dante, you’ve likely heard of the woman to whom he was briefly married (and whose famous name he capitalized on long after their divorce): Lana Turner, aka “The Sweater Girl.” In true conman fashion, the not-so-good doctor dumped Lana (without telling her! He just ran off after an otherwise magical trip the pair took to San Francisco) and made off with $135,000 of the actress’s money and jewels ($25,000 of which Turner eventually recovered in court).
The Lana Turner debacle is just one chapter in Dante’s more than three-decade scam career, one that spans Hollywood nightclubs of the 1960s, Arizona prisons, low-rent trailer parks, and yacht clubs.
Oh, and did we mention there’s a murder plot in there? That’s right—at one point, Dante tried to take out a rival hypnotist whose San Diego turf he wanted for his own. I’ll let you listen to Chameleon: Dr. Dante for yourself to see whether Dante’s “rival” made it out of the crosshairs alive.
Stolen Hearts (Wondery/Novel) – Premiered February 6, 2023
Wondery gifts us with a shiny, heart-shaped tale of love, greed, deception, and…shower gel?
Ain’t love grand? Well, not if you’re Welsh policewoman Jill Evans.
Over the course of her nearly two-decade career, Sergeant Jill has been killing it at work (not literally, by the way), but her professional success hasn’t exactly translated to her personal life.
After two failed marriages, Jill thinks she’s struck romance gold when she meets Dean, a self-made London businessman with his own line of male grooming products (including cheekily named shower gel “Beat the Filth”), on a dating website.
The only problem? Dean lives 300 miles away from Jill’s tiny rural town of Haverfordwest in the Welsh countryside.
But no biggie. The pair make their long-distance relationship work—and even decide to have a child together—that is, until Halloween 2006, when Dean disappears.
When Dean finally resurfaces, a now-pregnant Jill learns he’s been hiding some major skeletons in his closet—ones that have left one man dead and another facing a hefty prison sentence. And just like that, Dean’s sparkling veneer crumbles, revealing the cold, calculating criminal underneath.
How much can you really know someone? And how is it possible that Jill, a seasoned policewoman, had no clue about her boyfriend’s misdeeds?
The Wondery team had full access to all of the players in this story—including Jill, Dean, their friends and family, and members of the police force who worked on the case—offering a truly multifaceted look at a love story gone horribly wrong.
Tenfold More Wicked Season 7: The Annihilator – Premiered January 23, 2023
If there’s anything anyone knows about me, it’s that I absolutely live for period pieces—especially anything that takes place in the Victorian age. Give me corsets, crinolines, bustles, and petticoats, and I’m good to go.
Given my interest in the era when diagnoses like “hysteria” were de rigueur, it’s no wonder I can’t wait for Tenfold More Wicked’s seventh season, which takes place in late-1800s Austin, Texas.
Unpopular opinion/confession: I’m one of the few (I’m guessing) true crime devotees who doesn’t listen to My Favorite Murder, not because I have anything against that OG of true crime pods but simply because I’ve never gotten around to it. I do, however, recommend MFM brainchild Tenfold More Wicked, as the premise of season 7 “The Annihilator” sounds as intoxicating as a dose of Godfrey’s Cordial.
In the summer of 1896, Eugene Burt’s wife and two toddler daughters were found floating in a cistern beneath the family home. The details of the crime are gruesome (they involve a bloody hatchet, brain-splattered clothing and, as the Austin Weekly Statesman reported at the time, “the ominous hum of myriads of flies”), but what’s even more shocking is who the perpetrator was: Eugene himself.
By all accounts, the Burt clan was well-liked and well-respected: Eugene’s father had served as Austin’s city physician, and Eugene’s two brothers were prosperous businessmen. Eugene himself…well let’s just say the song of a fellow Texan (that would be Ashlee Simpson, who hails from nearby Waco) describes his story to a tee: “Living in the shadow of someone else’s dream…”
So Eugene wasn’t as successful as his father or brothers, nor was he the best guy around (he’d earned himself some ill-repute after cheating his brothers out of some money—the three were involved in a cigar concern), but being a shady character does not a murderer make.
Or does it? Was there anything in Eugene’s past (say, the fact that young Eugene used to accompany his city-physician father to crime scenes) that could have predicted his violent turn? Like The Sinner, The Annihilator is a whydunit rather than a whodunit, diving into Eugene’s own history (and that of turn-of-the-century Austin, which saw a slew of killings that became known as the Servant-Girl Murders not long before Eugene committed his violent act) to uncover his motivations.
The Conviction of Max B (Gimlet/Spotify) – Premiered January 17, 2023
Who’s 40 grand not tempting to? That’s the question at the center of Conviction’s newest season.
Back in the mid aughts, Harlem native Charley Wingate (aka Max Biggavelli, aka Max B) seemed poised for rap superstardom. With his signature gravelly voice, the Dipset affiliate was making waves with his mixtape Million Dollar Baby and collaborations with Funkmaster Flex, Jim Jones, Cam’ron, and French Montana. Prior to jumpstarting his rap career, Max B had spent eight years in prison, but now he was making up for lost time. Even though Million Dollar Baby was the one of the hottest mixtapes of summer 2006, Max hadn’t scored a major record deal—yet—and he was flat broke.
So when he heard about a duffel bag full of cash—$40,000 worth—sitting in an empty New Jersey hotel room, Max decided to take a chance. No one had to get hurt, and Max wouldn’t even need to grab the cash himself—his girlfriend and stepbrother would make the trip to Jersey for him.
What was supposed to be an easy score, however, turned out to be anything but (hint: that hotel room? It wasn’t empty after all), landing Max in a mountain of legal trouble. Add on to this an incompetent lawyer, and Max finds himself looking at some serious jail time.
Hosted by hip-hop journalist Brandon “Jinx” Jenkins (of Spotify’s The RapCaviar Podcast and the Gimlet/Spotify Original Mogul), and featuring firsthand audio from Max B, French Montana, and other hip-hop greats, The Conviction of Max B raises important questions about culpability and the pursuit of fame. From the first episode, I was hooked on The Conviction of Max B—I ended up binging all five episodes in one day—and I guarantee you will be too.
Carolina Crimes (Matt Hiers and Danielle Myers) – Premiered in September 2021. New episodes every Monday
South Carolina (and Charleston specifically) is one of my favorite places to visit, and while I haven’t stepped foot in the Holy City in about six years (hoping that will change soon!), I can still visit the state’s criminal underbelly by listening to Carolina Crimes.
Hosted by SC natives Matt Hiers and Danielle Myers (level with me, team—was the rhyming last names thing on purpose?), Carolina Crimes is the only podcast focusing exclusively on crimes committed in the Palmetto State.
Infusing each narrative with in-depth research (if you like shows with multipart episodes that go into every last detail, this is the pod for you) and their own local expertise, Hiers and Myers unspool truly shocking crimes that took place in their home state.
Note: This show (especially the four-parter about notorious serial killer Pee Wee Gaskins—aka the “Meanest Man in America”) does not shy away from the extremely grisly details. If you’re looking for a little lighter fare, might I suggest episode 92 “Blondes, Booze, and Bribes,” which traces the meteoric rise and stupendous downfall of former South Carolina congressman John Jenrette?
