Foul Play: Crime Series

Season 37, Episode 1 of 4This is the first episode in Foul Play's four-part investigation into Victorian England's most notorious family murder and the case that birthed modern detective fiction.Elizabeth Gough checked Francis Saville Kent's cot at five in the morning on June 30, 1860. The blankets were gone. The three-year-old was gone. And somewhere in Road Hill House, someone who knew exactly what had happened was waiting for the search to begin—On the last night of June 1860, three-year-old Francis Saville Kent was lifted from his nursery bed in the family's Wiltshire mansion. Hours later, a servant discovered his small body in the outdoor privy, his throat cut nearly to the spine.The killer came from inside the house. That much was immediately certain. But who among the nine people sleeping at Road Hill House that night would murder a child? And why?This episode traces the fractured Kent family—a household divided between a tyrannical father's first marriage and second, where teenage Constance and her brother William existed as ghosts in their own home while their half-brother Francis received everything they'd been denied. We witness the horror of discovery morning, the bungled local investigation, and the arrival of Detective Inspector Jonathan "Jack" Whicher from Scotland Yard—a working-class detective about to walk into a class warfare trap that would destroy him.Some walls don't protect families. They hide what families are capable of doing to themselves.Key Case DetailsVictim: Francis Saville Kent, age 3 years and 10 months, murdered June 29-30, 1860Location: Road Hill House, village of Road (now Rode), Wiltshire, EnglandCrime: The boy was taken from his nursery bed between midnight and five in the morning, carried through the dark house, and murdered in the outdoor privy. His throat was slashed from ear to ear with a razor or knife, cutting nearly to the spine. His body was stuffed into the privy vault and hidden among waste.Initial Investigation: Local police focused on servants and outsiders, refusing to suspect the respectable Kent family. Critical evidence—including a bloodstained nightgown belonging to sixteen-year-old half-sister Constance Kent—was destroyed by her father with police cooperation. The inquest returned "willful murder by person or persons unknown."Scotland Yard Intervention: Detective Inspector Jonathan Whicher arrived July 16, 1860, and within five days identified Constance Kent as his primary suspect—the first time in English history a young lady from a respectable family faced formal murder charges.Section 4: The Victim - Francis Saville KentFrancis Saville Kent deserves to be remembered as more than a murder victim. He was three years and ten months old—dark-haired, curious, his father's favorite child. He collected smooth stones from the garden and named them after colors. He asked endless questions about where stars came from and why dogs didn't talk. He had a stuffed rabbit he couldn't sleep without and an imaginary pack of dogs that followed him everywhere.He was learning to count but always skipped the number nine. He negotiated extra bedtime stories with remarkable persistence for a toddler. He called his half-sister Constance "Tannie" because he couldn't pronounce her name.He was three years old. Someone murdered him anyway.Section 5: Victorian True Crime ContextVictorian England in 1860 was obsessed with respectability. Gas lamps flickered in drawing rooms across the countryside while servants moved silently through service corridors. Behind heavy curtains and locked doors, families performed daily rituals of propriety—morning prayers, afternoon tea, church attendance every Sunday.The outside world saw polished brass door knockers and manicured gardens. Inside, secrets festered.The Road Hill House case shattered Victorian assumptions about where crime originated. Respectable families didn't produce murderers. Young ladies of good breeding didn't commit violence. Working-class detectives couldn't accuse gentlemen's daughters.These assumptions would destroy Detective Inspector Whicher's career—and let a killer walk free for five more years.Section 6: Historical Context & SourcesThe Road Hill House Murder became Victorian England's most notorious domestic crime and directly inspired the birth of detective fiction. Wilkie Collins used case details when writing The Moonstone (1868), widely considered the first modern detective novel. Charles Dickens followed the investigation closely and incorporated elements into his final, unfinished novel The Mystery of Edwin Drood.Detective Inspector Jonathan Whicher's methods—systematic crime scene analysis, methodical witness interviews, evidence-based deduction regardless of social class—represented revolutionary policing. His destruction by class prejudice exposed how Victorian justice protected the respectable while prosecuting the poor.Primary Source: Kate Summerscale's The Suspicions of Mr Whicher (2008) provides the most comprehensive modern account, drawing on original trial transcripts, contemporary newspaper coverage, and National Archives documents.Content Advisory: This episode contains clinical description of violence against a child, consistent with documented historical records.Section 6A: Resources & Further ReadingThe Suspicions of Mr Whicher by Kate Summerscale (2008) - Definitive modern account of the caseCruelly Murdered by Bernard Taylor (1979) - Alternative analysis exploring brother William's potential involvementThe Moonstone by Wilkie Collins (1868) - Detective fiction directly inspired by the Road Hill House investigationThe National Archives (UK) maintains original trial transcripts and investigation documents from 1860-1865Our Sponsors:* Check out BetterHelp: https://www.betterhelp.comSupport this podcast at — https://redcircle.com/foul-play-crime-series/donationsAdvertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy

This episode is part of Season 36: Serial Killers in History—a single-episode deep dive into one of the most disturbing and least-known serial killers of the Weimar era.December 1924. A homeless stonemason narrowly escapes death in a small Silesian town. What police discover in the aftermath reveals twenty-one years of murder hidden behind the most respectable facade imaginable—a church organ blower who sold his victims as pork at public markets. The story of Karl Denke forces us to confront how society's indifference to its most vulnerable creates perfect hunting grounds for predators.The VictimVincenz Olivier was a homeless stonemason wandering the streets of Münsterberg in search of work, food, or somewhere warm to sleep. Like dozens before him, Olivier was invisible to society—the kind of man whose disappearance would never make headlines, whose death would never prompt an investigation. He accepted an offer of twenty pfennigs to write a letter for a respected local citizen. That simple act of desperation brought him face-to-face with a killer who had evaded detection for over two decades. When Denke dictated a bizarre opening line and Olivier turned his head in confusion, that moment of hesitation saved his life—and exposed one of history's most methodical murderers.The CrimeKarl Denke operated his killing enterprise from 1903 to 1924, targeting society's invisible people: homeless vagrants, unemployed journeymen, recently released prisoners, and travelers seeking work during Germany's economic collapse. His reputation as "Papa Denke"—the charitable organ blower who helped travelers—was his hunting tool. He would offer small payments for simple tasks, then strike from behind with a pickaxe as victims sat distracted at his desk. After death came systematic processing that would have impressed a professional butcher. Denke dismembered bodies, pickled flesh in brine, rendered human fat for soap, and tanned human skin to manufacture leather goods. He held an official vendor's license and sold his "boneless pickled pork" at public markets in Breslau.The InvestigationWhen police searched Denke's apartment on Christmas Eve 1924, they discovered a museum of murder. Two wooden tubs filled with pickled human flesh. According to Friedrich Pietrusky's 1926 forensic report, 351 human teeth were recovered and sorted in containers. Belts, suspenders, and shoelaces crafted from tanned human skin. A ledger documenting thirty-one victims by name—and their slaughter weight. The evidence documented at least thirty victims, with estimates suggesting forty or more. Denke's suicide by hanging with a handkerchief in his holding cell before interrogation meant the full scope of his crimes would never be known. Among verified victims: confectioner Adolf Salisch and fur dealer Rochus Pawlick (Denke's last known victim before Olivier's escape). Victims ranged from sixteen to seventy-six years old. The case revealed significant weaknesses in law enforcement practices, as his victims' marginal status meant their disappearances were never investigated.Historical ContextKarl Denke operated during one of Germany's most turbulent periods—the Weimar Republic era marked by hyperinflation, widespread poverty, and social displacement following World War I. Meat shortages made cheap protein precious as gold, and no one questioned why a gentle church organ blower had steady supplies of quality meat. His crimes coincided with those of other notorious German killers Fritz Haarmann and Peter Kürten, yet while those names echo through criminal history, Denke became a footnote. His immediate suicide prevented any sensational trial. After World War II, Münsterberg became Polish Ziębice, German residents were expelled, records scattered, and the case fell between German and Polish historiography—nearly lost entirely.Sources: Friedrich Pietrusky forensic report (1926), Lucyna Biały research (1999), Casefile Podcast Episode 212, German criminal archivesResourcesThe location of Denke's crimes was Teichstraße 10 (now Stawowa Street 13) in Ziębice, Poland. Note: Sources conflict on whether the original structure still stands—a 1999 report indicated the building had been replaced by newer construction. For those interested in Weimar-era crime, Fritz Lang cited Denke as one of several inspirations for his 1931 film "M," alongside Fritz Haarmann, Carl Großmann, and Peter Kürten (the primary model). Casefile Podcast covered this case in Episode 212, titled "The Forgotten Cannibal" (May 21, 2022).Our Sponsors:* Check out BetterHelp: https://www.betterhelp.comSupport this podcast at — https://redcircle.com/foul-play-crime-series/donationsAdvertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy

Episode 14 of 15 | Season 36: Serial Killers in HistoryIn a locked storage chamber in rural Hungary, seven sealed metal drums waited to reveal their terrible secrets—each containing the perfectly preserved body of a woman who had answered a marriage advertisement.The investigation into Hungary's most prolific lonely hearts killer reaches its chilling conclusion as we trace Béla Kiss's extraordinary escape from justice during the chaos of World War One.VICTIM PROFILE:Katherine Varga sold her dressmaking business for the promise of marriage. Margaret Toth trusted her mother's choice of a husband. These women weren't victims of circumstance—they were successful, independent, and looking for partnership in an era when marriage advertisements represented a respectable path to companionship. They responded to notices in Budapest newspapers, exchanged romantic letters with a successful tinsmith named Béla Kiss, and traveled alone to his home in Cinkota with their valuables and their hopes. The skills that had supported Katherine's independence—her precise needlework—would later identify her remains years after Kiss strangled her and sealed her body in an alcohol-filled drum.THE CRIME:This case changed how Hungarian law enforcement approached missing persons cases and marriage advertisement fraud. Kiss's crimes exposed the vulnerability of women seeking companionship in early twentieth-century society and demonstrated how a charismatic predator could weaponize social conventions for years without detection. The preserved bodies—so pristine that victims remained recognizable years after death—stand as haunting evidence of how ordinary systems can shield extraordinary evil. Béla Kiss remains one of criminology's greatest unsolved mysteries, his ability to disappear so completely ensuring his story continues to captivate researchers worldwide.Content Warning: This episode contains descriptions of violence against women and discussions of serial murder. Listener discretion advised.KEY CASE DETAILS:The investigation into Béla Kiss began in mid-1916 when landlord Márton Kresinszky and pharmacist Béla Takács discovered seven metal drums in Kiss's locked storage chamber. Each drum, professionally sealed with lead solder, contained a woman's body preserved in wood alcohol and strangled with a rope or garrotte. Investigators found seventeen more bodies throughout the property, bringing the total to twenty-four victims—all killed with the same methodical approach.Timeline: Kiss operated between 1912-1914, placing matrimonial advertisements in Budapest newspapers under the alias "Hofmann." Conscripted to the 40th Honvéd Infantry Brigade in 1914, he left his home in housekeeper Mrs. Jakubec's care. The discovery came nearly two years later during renovation preparations.Method: Kiss corresponded with 174 women, actively pursued 74, and lured victims by emphasizing his financial stability and respectable tinsmith business. He requested women travel alone and bring their valuables. After strangling them, he took their assets and preserved bodies in alcohol-filled drums—a technique that astounded medical examiners with its effectiveness.Escape: In October 1916, Detective Chief Charles Nagy traveled to a Serbian military hospital after reports Kiss was alive. He arrived to find a corpse in Kiss's bed—but the face was wrong. Kiss had switched identity documents with a dying soldier and walked out of the hospital into the chaos of war-torn Serbia.Aftermath: In 1932, New York City homicide detective Henry Oswald was certain he spotted Kiss emerging from the Times Square subway station. The sighting was never confirmed. Whether Kiss died in the trenches, lived out his days under an assumed identity, or met some other fate remains unknown. The mathematics of his notebook—174 contacts, 74 pursued, 24 found—leaves terrible questions about fifty unaccounted women.HISTORICAL CONTEXT AND SOURCES:This episode draws on contemporary Hungarian police records, the detailed account by Austro-Hungarian author Frigyes Karinthy who witnessed the body examinations, court documents from earlier proceedings against Kiss by victims Julianne Paschak and Elizabeth Komeromi, and historical research into World War One-era military hospital conditions in occupied Serbia. The investigation reveals how wartime chaos enabled Kiss's escape and how early twentieth-century record-keeping failures allowed a serial killer to vanish completely.RESOURCES AND FURTHER READING:For listeners interested in exploring this case further, these historically significant sources provide additional context:The Hungarian National Archives maintains police investigation records from the original 1916 Cinkota discovery and subsequent manhuntAcademic research on early twentieth-century matrimonial fraud and lonely hearts schemes in Austro-Hungarian newspapersMilitary hospital records from WWI-era Serbia documenting the typhoid epidemic and identification challenges that enabled Kiss's escapeContemporary newspaper coverage from Budapest publications reporting on the barrel discoveriesRELATED FOUL PLAY EPISODES:If you enjoyed this early twentieth-century Hungarian case, explore these related Foul Play episodes:Season 36, Episode 12: Maria Swanenburg - Another insurance-focused serial killer from the 1880s Netherlands who targeted vulnerable community membersSeason 36, Episode 9: Maria Jeanneret - Swiss poisoner who exploited positions of trust to prey on isolated victimsSeason 36, Episode 15: Karl Denke - German serial killer who evaded detection through community respectability until the 1920sFoul Play is hosted by Shane Waters and Wendy Cee. Research and writing by Shane Waters with historical consultation. Music and sound design featuring period-appropriate Hungarian and Eastern European folk elements. For more forgotten cases from history's darkest corners, subscribe to Foul Play wherever you listen to podcasts.Next week on Foul Play: The season finale explores Karl Denke, the forgotten cannibal of Münsterberg, whose decades of murder remained hidden behind the façade of a respected German businessman. Subscribe now to follow Serial Killers in History to its conclusion.Our Sponsors:* Check out BetterHelp: https://www.betterhelp.comSupport this podcast at — https://redcircle.com/foul-play-crime-series/donationsAdvertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy

Season 36, Episode 13 of our Serial Killers in History series. This episode examines one of North Africa's most notorious crimes and the execution that shocked the world.In the spring of 1906, authorities in Marrakesh make a discovery that will reverberate across continents. Beneath the packed-earth floor of a modest shoemaker's workshop, they uncover the remains of twenty-six women. Ten more bodies lie buried in a garden nearby. Thirty-six victims in total—women who came to a trusted craftsman for help and never walked out alive. What follows is a story of community betrayal, colonial politics, and a punishment so brutal that diplomats from New York to London demanded intervention. But the screaming from inside the marketplace walls continued for two days before...VICTIM PROFILE:The thirty-six women murdered by Hadj Mohammed Mesfewi remain largely unnamed in historical records—a final cruelty in a case dominated by its killer's infamy. They were working-class women from Marrakesh's medina, women who needed help with everyday tasks in a society where female literacy was rare. Some came to dictate letters to relatives in distant cities. Others needed shoes repaired. They were mothers, daughters, sisters who trusted a man their community trusted. They walked into his shop for legitimate business and vanished into the earth beneath his floor, their identities lost to time while their murderer's name lives in infamy.THE CRIME:Between 1902 and 1906, Mesfewi operated his shop near one of Marrakesh's public bathhouses, positioning himself perfectly to encounter women conducting business without male accompaniment. His method was consistent across all victims: he offered tea laced with narcotics, likely opium, rendering women unconscious. Once incapacitated, he killed them with a dagger and buried them beneath his workshop floor or in a garden he owned, using quicklime to accelerate decomposition. His seventy-year-old accomplice, a woman named Annah, assisted in the crimes until her capture in April 1906.KEY CASE DETAILS:The murders unraveled when families noticed a pattern—women who mentioned visiting Mesfewi's shop were never seen again. One young woman named Fatima escaped after growing dizzy from drugged tea, providing the first direct testimony against the shoemaker. When Annah was captured by a victim's family and forced to confess, she revealed the burial sites before dying from her injuries. Authorities excavating Mesfewi's workshop found twenty-six bodies, methodically buried with layers of quicklime. A second property yielded ten more victims. Forensic science in 1906 Morocco was rudimentary—no fingerprinting, no crime scene photography—so investigators relied on shovels, sketches, and eyewitness accounts to document the horror.HISTORICAL CONTEXT AND SOURCES:Mesfewi's crimes occurred during Morocco's final years of independence before European colonization. As his victims were being discovered in April 1906, diplomats gathered in Algeciras, Spain, carving up Morocco's future at an international conference. Within six years, the Treaty of Fez would establish the French Protectorate, ending twelve centuries of Moroccan sovereignty. European powers seized on Mesfewi's execution—he was sealed alive inside a wall in the Marrakesh marketplace—as evidence of "barbaric" Moroccan justice requiring European oversight. Contemporary newspapers from The Times and Democrat to the St. John Sun published detailed accounts and illustrations, framing the case within colonial narratives that justified intervention.RESOURCES AND FURTHER READING:For those who want to explore further:Wikipedia article on Hadj Mohammed Mesfewi provides comprehensive case details and contemporary source citations: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hadj_Mohammed_MesfewiMurderpedia entry includes execution details and victim count documentation: https://murderpedia.org/male.M/m/mesfewi-hadj-mohammed.htmYabiladi article examines the case from a Moroccan historical perspective: https://en.yabiladi.com/articles/details/94637/hadj-mohammed-mesfewi-morocco-serial.htmlFollow us on social media and visit mythsandmalice.com for more historical true crime.Our Sponsors:* Check out BetterHelp: https://www.betterhelp.comSupport this podcast at — https://redcircle.com/foul-play-crime-series/donationsAdvertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy

In the fog-shrouded streets of 1880s Leiden, a woman everyone called "Good Mary" brought food to the sick, consoled the grieving, and prepared the dead for burial. For three years, she was the angel of her neighborhood—the trusted caregiver who helped when no one else would. No one suspected that the porridge she served was laced with arsenic. No one questioned why so many of her patients died. Until a doctor noticed somethingMaria Swanenburg's victims included 27 confirmed deaths among the most vulnerable members of Victorian Leiden's working-class community. Among them were her own parents—Johanna Dingjan and Clemens Swanenburg—murdered for whatever meager inheritance they might leave. Two young sisters died while Maria babysat them, followed by attempted poisonings of six mourners at their wake, including their pregnant mother.The Frankhuizen family lost three members: Maria Frankhuizen, her infant son, and her husband Hendrik, whose agonizing final days would ultimately expose the killer. Elderly neighbors who trusted Maria with their care, relatives who welcomed her help, and community members who saw her as Goeie Mie—"Good Mary"—all fell victim to her arsenic-laced kindness. Another 45 survivors lived with permanent health damage, many walking Leiden's streets on crutches for the rest of their lives.Between 1880 and 1883, Maria Swanenburg systematically poisoned at least 102 people in Leiden, Netherlands, killing 27 and permanently disabling dozens more. Operating in disease-ridden working-class neighborhoods where cholera deaths were common, she exploited the era's limited medical knowledge and the community's trust in her caregiving reputation.Maria purchased arsenic from multiple pharmacies across Leiden—ostensibly for pest control—accumulating lethal quantities without raising suspicion. She poisoned her victims through food and drink while nursing them, then collected on small life insurance policies she'd secretly taken out. When victims displayed symptoms of violent gastric distress, doctors assumed cholera or typhoid. When they died, Maria helped prepare their bodies for burial and consoled grieving families.Her downfall came in December 1883 when Dr. Wijnand Rutgers van der Loeff connected multiple patients with identical symptoms to one common factor: all had been under Maria Swanenburg's care.The Investigation: Dr. van der Loeff's suspicions led police to arrest Maria on December 15, 1883. When searched, she carried multiple insurance policies in her pockets—policies taken out on people currently under her care. Authorities exhumed thirteen bodies from Leiden cemeteries; all tested positive for arsenic.The Trial: Proceedings began April 23, 1885, drawing national attention. Medical experts explained how arsenic accumulated in victims' tissues. Family members testified about their loved ones' rapid deterioration under Maria's care. Throughout, she maintained an eerily calm demeanor, claiming she was being framed.The Verdict: On May 1, 1885, Maria Swanenburg was convicted of three murders from the Frankhuizen family case—though prosecutors had evidence for 27 deaths. She became the first woman in Dutch history to receive a life sentence.The Sentence: Maria was sent to Gorinchem Correctional Facility, where she died on April 11, 1915, at age 75, having served thirty years.Victorian Leiden provided the perfect hunting ground for a poisoner. The textile industry had drawn workers into overcrowded slums where families of ten lived in cramped cottages with earthen floors, no sanitation, and no ventilation. Cholera, typhoid, and tuberculosis killed regularly. Child mortality was staggeringly high. Doctors rarely visited poor districts because residents couldn't pay.In this environment, additional deaths barely registered. Arsenic was legally sold in pharmacies for pest control with minimal regulation—no questions asked, no records kept. The poison was tasteless, odorless, and produced symptoms indistinguishable from endemic diseases without expensive chemical analysis that the poor could never afford.Maria's role as a community caregiver—taking in elderly boarders, nursing the sick, preparing bodies for burial—gave her unlimited access to vulnerable victims and made suspicion seem impossible. She was Goeie Mie. Good Mary. The angel.Primary research for this episode draws from Dutch criminal archives and the work of historian Stefan Glasbergen, whose book on Maria Swanenburg provides crucial contemporary documentation including court testimony and neighborhood accounts.The case fundamentally changed Dutch law. Following Maria's conviction, the Netherlands implemented strict regulations on arsenic sales, requiring pharmacies to maintain detailed purchase records and verify legitimate need. Dutch law enforcement developed standardized protocols for investigating suspicious deaths and recognizing serial murder patterns.The Swanenburg case became a cornerstone study in criminal investigation training throughout Europe, demonstrating how serial killers exploit community trust and institutional blind spots to operate undetected for years.For those interested in exploring this case further:The Rijksmuseum van Oudheden in Leiden maintains records from the Victorian eraDutch National Archives hold original court documents from the 1885 trialAcademic studies on Victorian-era poisoning cases and forensic toxicology developmentMaria Swanenburg's victims trusted her completely. She was their neighbor, their caregiver, their friend. In the fog-shrouded slums of Victorian Leiden, the angel of the neighborhood was actually its deadliest predator—and the 45 survivors on crutches walked as permanent reminders of her betrayal.Our Sponsors:* Check out BetterHelp: https://www.betterhelp.comSupport this podcast at — https://redcircle.com/foul-play-crime-series/donationsAdvertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy