True Crime

Enduring mysteries from the Hoosier State

Crime and tragedy have all too often disturbed the peace and stained the memory of Indiana’s bucolic countryside. The small town of Dupont was thrust into the nation's spotlight in 1947 after a series of suspicious deaths were blamed on a well-known local housekeeper—suspected serial killer Lottie “Tot” Lockman. On a fall day in 1976, a Benton County farmer found an unusual package in his cornfield—a corpse. Dubbed “The Box Lady of Benton County,” her identity remains a mystery. On September 13, 1989, Joseph Bova was killed outside of his Merrillville home when a pipe bomb rigged to his truck’s ignition exploded. With no witnesses, suspects, or motive, his case remains unsolved.

Author Autumn Bones explores some of Indiana’s least-known unsolved cases.

Haunting mysteries from America’s Heartland/

Indiana rightly prides itself as a safe place to live. Nevertheless, the Hoosier State has experienced its share of unexplained deaths and unsolved disappearances. The state’s oldest missing child case, the disappearance of four-year-old Richmond Byers from Seelyville in 1904, may never be solved. The 1998 attempted bombing of the Tippecanoe County Courthouse remains one of the only unsolved instances of domestic terrorism in the United States. The identities of Bedford’s so-called Carnival Babies will likely forever be unknown. The 1929 murder of Elizabeth Miller may have been the result of the community’s belief that she was a witch, but the true culprit has never been brought to light./

Author of Unsolved Indiana/ Autumn Bones explores some of Indiana’s least known unsolved mysteries.

With an eye for bizarre, macabre detail, Keven McQueen tracks down seventeen true crimes and unsolved mysteries in this collection of historic Hoosier homicides.

This grim collection of tales includes unimaginable incidents like the Indianapolis businessman whose car contained suspicious hams and the man who handed his new bride a drink of carbolic acid. It also reveals the tragedy of Gary's beautiful Arlene Draves, killed by her football player boyfriend, as well as a surprisingly comic courtroom revelation by Hammond's Hazel McNally that cleared her of all charges.

Author Keven McQueen is an instructor in the Department of English at Eastern Kentucky University. He is the author of twelve books on biography, history, folklore, ghost lore, natural disasters and historical true crime.

Surveying the sensational newspaper accounts as events unfolded, author and historian Chris Flook recounts this grisly tale of political intrigue and conspiracy .

In the fall of 1902, Indianapolis police uncovered a prolific graverobbing ring operating across the city. At the time, cemeteries across central Indiana were relieved of their dead by ghouls, as they were called, seeking fresh corpses desperately needed by the city’s medical colleges. The ring was also accused of multiple murders. In Hamilton County, a former Confederate soldier named Wade West delivered stolen corpses by floating them down the White River. His counterpart in Indianapolis, Rufus Cantrell, an itinerant preacher and full-time graverobber known as the “King of the Ghouls,” ransacked Indy’s cemeteries for years before being caught./

Haunted Hoaxes of the Hoosier State

In the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, newspapers were a major source of ghost stories. Paranormal experiences, no matter how mundane, were newsworthy and entertaining—even when they turned out not to be ghosts after all. A coffin holding a “talking corpse” on a train turned out to be a box of bullfrogs. An overturned automobile carrying white paint resulted in a paint-covered “ghost” wandering the streets, and a spiritualist tackled a phantom haunting a cemetery only to find that it was a fraternity pledge all along.

Revealing that the truth can sometimes be as amusing as the legend, author Ashley M. Watson gathers newspaper clippings about Indiana ghost stories that were not ghosts at all.

The coldest cases from Middletown, USA/

With dozens of unsolved murders spanning decades, Muncie and surrounding Delaware County might have more killings without justice than any American community like it. In 1962, Maggie Mae Fleming was shot to death as she sat in her living room. Paula Garrett was bludgeoned in her home in 1979, and her son, who survived the attack, wants justice. Garth Rector, killed in 2008, could have been murdered by any number of people he knew—or dated./ 

Journalists and award-winning true crime authors Douglas Walker and Keith Roysdon shine a spotlight on the victims, and on their loved ones and the investigators still hoping for resolution to long-cold murders./ 

The story of the intersection between vigilantism and law enforcement

In frontier Indiana, vigilantism was a grim necessity. Beginning with the vigilance committees of the 1860s that lynched the Reno Gang and the Knights of the Golden Circle, who plotted to assassinate Governor Morton, the Hoosier State was a hotbed for citizens taking the law into their own hands. Later groups such as the White Caps enforced their own moral code, while the state legislature sanctioned the Horse Thief Detective Association and the Banking Vigilantes.

Chronicling the vigilante groups that operated in Indiana, author Robert Bowling explores the evolution of law enforcement from the lone marshal on the frontier to the birth of the modern police department and the Indiana State Police.

Explore the notorious and unusual side of Muncie's history.

Muncie is the classic small American city. But for much of the past two centuries, the city fell victim to murder, corruption and the bizarre. Mayor Rollin Bunch went to prison for mail fraud, while his police commissioner faced a murder rap. Viola Babe Swartz ran a brothel out of a truck stop that was raided by police at least a dozen times but ran for sheriff in the 1974 primary election. June Holland, of the locally famous Holland triplets, killed her neighbor for refusing to sell her house.

Defined by a tangled web of deception for more than a century, Northwest Indiana's political culture involved secret handshakes, tapped phone calls, backroom deals and murder.

Found submerged in his car with a rock on the gas pedal, city official Babe Lopez's execution-style murder rocked East Chicago. Shot and killed at a political fundraiser, power broker Jay Given's murder occurred while four hundred guests mingled in a neighboring room. Former Lake Station mayor Keith Soderquist stole thousands of dollars from his reelection campaign and the city's food pantry account to gamble at local casinos. Author Jerry Davich explores the hidden political scandals and highly publicized court cases of public servants once sworn to serve and protect.

Catch a whiff of rum and candor when Jacob Ritter sits to write one morning in 1861. His opening line: "I have killed my wife because she is a witch." When the trains roar through this New Albany, they are quite likely meeting flesh. The men in the saloons are armed and irritated. And the murderous can be most industrious, like the man who was sentenced to death, sold his body to New Albany's first physician, collected the cash, reneged on the contract and then tried to sell his corpse again. Millions have roamed these broad avenues during New Albany's nearly two hundred years. Most have been honest sorts. Others, well…

The authors of Wicked Muncie tell the city’s lurid history in the true stories of its most infamous criminals and the lawmen who brought them down.

Muncie epitomizes the small-town America of squeaky-clean 1950s sitcoms, but its wholesome veneer conceals a violent past. Public scandals and personal tragedy dogged the long, notorious life of Dr. Jules LaDuron. Baseball ace Obie McCracken met a tragic and violent end after joining the police force. A mother’s love could not stop James Hedges from committing murder.

The paranoid delusions of Leonard Redden hounded him until one day he carried a shotgun into a quiet classroom. Detectives Melvin Miller and Ambrose Settles chased a murderer across county lines in pursuit of justice and newsman George Dale’s showdown with the Klan prepared him for the political fight of his life.

Douglas Walker and Keith Roysdon, authors of Wicked Muncie, introduce a new cast of characters from the city's notorious past.

Bucolic hamlets or festering cesspools? The fledgling towns of Jay County were touted by early newspapers as both.

As populations thrived, so did crime and disorder. Tempers flared. Romance bloomed and faded. Political and social lines were drawn and crossed. Sensational accounts of robbery, assault, and murder grabbed the headlines. Criminals were hunted by an overworked and undertrained police force. When, and if, they were caught, alleged offenders were tried not only by the judicial system but also by the press and public opinion.

Looking beyond the headlines at the impact of crime on a small community, local author Chris Kennedy Nixon examines criminals and their victims and provides a snapshot in time of social ideals about gender, politics, wealth, and poverty.

Join local historian Tim Crumrin as he reveals the blackguards, rogues and swindlers of Terre Haute’s rough and rowdy past.

For more than a century, Terre Haute earned its reputation as a sin city. One of the most notorious red-light districts in the Midwest, the West End, housed sixty brothels and nearly one thousand prostitutes at its height in the 1920s. Across this sordid scene strode the stylish and indomitable Edith Brown, the city’s most famous madam. When Prohibition made the city bootlegger central, violence erupted as rival gangs vied for turf. Gamblers flooded in from all corners of the country, making Terre Haute’s Wire Room second only to Las Vegas. Through it all, corrupt politicians like Mayor Donn Roberts profited handsomely from grift and deception.

A fascinating historical tour of this Midwestern city’s crimes, scandals, and shady characters.

Dubbed the “Athens of the Prairie” for its array of stunning modern architecture, Columbus, Indiana, nevertheless endured its share of unsavory citizens, crime-ridden neighborhoods, and tales of woe in its past. Many residents avoided the infamous slums of Smoky Row and Death Valley, while others gave in to the allure of Lillian “Todie” Tull’s famed house of ill repute on North Jackson Street. Two different father-and-son hoodlum partnerships, the McKinneys and the Bells, terrorized the area in the 1800s. And a brutal fistfight between a newspaper editor and the mayor sparked a scandal in 1877.

In this book, enlivened by photos and illustrations, journalist Paul J. Hoffman guides you on a wild ride through the city’s salacious side.

Read about the crime The Post-Tribune of Northwest Indiana called "the most reckless holdup and murder ever committed within the boundaries of Lake County.”

It all started with a haphazard robbery in a popular roadhouse halfway between Cedar Lake and Crown Point. Close to midnight, a hardened crew of bootleggers from the South Side of Chicago stalked into the crowded barroom. Fifteen terrifying minutes later, bullet holes cratered the walls, patrons were left bloody and dazed, and a prominent Lake County attorney lay dying. The mayhem would spark a furious and desperate police response, an unprecedented trial, and even more brutal murder.

Author James Haniford takes readers back to Prohibition-era Indiana for a front-row seat to the unbelievable true story of big-city crime in a small resort town.

Haunted Hoaxes of the Hoosier State

In the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, newspapers were a major source of ghost stories. Paranormal experiences, no matter how mundane, were newsworthy and entertaining—even when they turned out not to be ghosts after all. A coffin holding a “talking corpse” on a train turned out to be a box of bullfrogs. An overturned automobile carrying white paint resulted in a paint-covered “ghost” wandering the streets, and a spiritualist tackled a phantom haunting a cemetery only to find that it was a fraternity pledge all along.

Revealing that the truth can sometimes be as amusing as the legend, author Ashley M. Watson gathers newspaper clippings about Indiana ghost stories that were not ghosts at all.

These are the abhorrent, the grim, the can't-look-away misdeeds and miscreants of this city's past, when bicycle messenger boys peddled through the night to link prostitutes with johns and when the bigoted masses tightened their grip on the city behind mayor and Klansman John Duvall. From the unseemly to the deviant to the disastrous, Hoosier Andrew E. Stoner brings you lives as out of control as the worst wreck at the Indy 500 with a history as regrettable as it is riveting.

Present-day Fishers, Indiana, is one of the safest places to live in the U.S., but this respectable city has a rough and rowdy past.

Starting off as a small railroad community, Fishers attracted its fair share of drifters, and the whiskey flowed like water. It may have been small, but the lawless town made national headlines on more than one occasion. A two-day bar brawl led to one death and dozens of injuries and required the Sheriff to restore order. A sensational trial exposed mass grave robberies and led to legislative changes. James Redwine became the town's first homicide victim over a Christmas turkey shootout. Author Robert Bowling explores the history of this once small town and the misdeeds that thrust it into the national spotlight.