Foul Play: A Historical True Crime Podcast

Shane Waters and Gemma Hoskins close out their reunion by going down the list of the people who appeared in the Netflix documentary The Keepers, where they are today, who is still fighting, who has found peace, and who the world has lost. It is a warm, reflective conversation about the unsolved 1969 murder of Sister Catherine Ann Cesnik, the young School Sister of Notre Dame who taught English and drama at Archbishop Keough High School in Baltimore, and about the community of survivors, investigators, journalists, and filmmakers her case brought together.The Investigators and AdvocatesGemma gives an honest update on her own life, recovering from a broken hip, stepping back from the day-to-day advocacy, and finding peace in a quiet home in the woods. She talks about her fellow amateur investigator Abbie Schaub, who remains active in the legislative fight and helps run the official Keepers community online.The SurvivorsShane and Gemma share where the survivors are now. Jean Hargadon Wehner, known as "Jane Doe" in the case, is doing meaningful work and published her memoir, Walking with Aletheia. Teresa Lancaster, "Jane Roe, " became an attorney and a leading public voice for survivors, helped pass Maryland's 2023 Child Victims Act, and wrote her memoir, Safe in Socks. Donna testified in Annapolis for the Child Victims Act and helped get Father Neil Magnus added to a public list of credibly accused clergy. They also remember Charles Franz and several of Sister Cathy's former students, including Kathy Hoback, the student Sister Cathy once shielded from Father Maskell, who passed away thispast year.The Journalists and ExpertsThey remember journalist Bob Erlandson of the Baltimore Sun, who covered the case as it happened and died this past year at 94, and renowned forensic pathologist Dr. Werner Spitz, who died in 2024 at 97. Shane and Gemma also revisit Delegate C.T. Wilson, the abuse survivor who championed the Child Victims Act, and journalist Tom Nugent, whose reporting first brought the case back into the light.The FilmmakersGemma catches listeners up on the team behind The Keepers, director Ryan White, producer Jessica Hargrave, and cinematographer John Benham, whose work since the series includes the Oscar-nominated, Peabody-winning documentary Come See Me in the Good Light. And, of course, they give a nod to Kim, who edits this very podcast.What Comes NextShane and Gemma agree to keep going as the story unfolds, and invite listeners to suggest the people they would still like to hear from.Content WarningThis episode discusses clergy abuse and violence.Frequently Asked QuestionsWhat is The Keepers about?The Keepers is a 2017 Netflix documentary series about the unsolved 1969 murder of Sister Catherine Cesnik, a Baltimore nun and teacher, and the allegations of abuse at Archbishop Keough High School that may be connected to her death.Who were Jane Doe and Jane Roe?Jean Hargadon Wehner was known as "Jane Doe" and Teresa Lancaster as "Jane Roe, " two survivors whose accounts were central to The Keepers. Both have since written memoirs and become advocates for other survivors.What is the Maryland Child Victims Act?Passed in 2023, the Maryland Child Victims Act removed the time limits on lawsuits for survivors of child sexual abuse. Survivors featured in The Keepers, along with Delegate C.T. Wilson, were instrumental in its passage.Is Sister Cathy's murder solved?No. The murder of Sister Catherine Cesnik remains unsolved more than fifty years later. Crisis ResourcesIf you or someone you know has been affected by abuse:US: RAINN National Sexual Assault Hotline, 1-800-656-4673US: Childhelp National Child Abuse Hotline, 1-800-422-4453UK: NSPCC Helpline, 0808 800 5000UK: Rape Crisis England & Wales, 0808 500 2222Our Sponsors:* Check out Kensington Publishing: https://www.kensingtonbooks.com* Check out Mood and use my code SHANE for a great deal: https://mood.comAdvertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy

This episode contains descriptions of murder, mob violence, historical racial violence, and the execution of a convicted killer. If you need to skip this content, advance past the 18:00 mark. Support resources are listed at the end of these notes.This EpisodeSeason 40: Fifty states, fifty forgotten crimes, America's 250th year. Episode 9 covers California and Alabama — two cases, two communities that looked at the legal system and reached for something uglier. October 10, 1890. A woman named Helen Riche is playing cards in her tavern near a California quicksilver mine when ten men in flour-sack hoods crash through the door. She does not run. She reaches up and rips the mask off the nearest man's face, and in that single act she solves the crime that is about to kill her. This is true crime history from the American frontier, and the legal system that followed would leave you cold.December 1888, Birmingham, Alabama. A railroad engineer named Richard Hawes boards a streetcar with his eight- year-old daughter May. He gets off with her at East Lake. He gets back on alone. The body of a young girl is found floating in the lake the next morning. On the same day, Hawes is across the state line getting married. When Birmingham finds out, two thousand people march on the jail.The VictimsHelen Matilda Riche ran the Campers' Retreat tavern on sixty-two acres near the Bradford quicksilver mine, three miles south of Middletown, California. We do not know where she was born or how she came to run a mining-camp saloon in hard hill country — the historical record is thin on her life before October 10, 1890. What it preserves is a woman who managed a clientele of mercury miners in one of the most physically dangerous industries of the era. She was shot five times during the raid. She fought back, reaching for her husband's .44 Winchester with five bullets already in her body. She died four days later. Her husband J.W. Riche died less than three months after her, his own bullet wound never having healed.May Hawes was eight years old when her father took her on a one-way train ride to East Lake on the evening of December 3, 1888. She had been doing the work of a parent since she could walk, looking after younger siblings in a household already coming apart. She was laid out for public identification at Lockwood & Miller's Funeral Parlor in Birmingham, unidentified for a full day. A local butcher recognized her. May, her mother Emma, and her six-year-old sister Irene — all three murdered by Richard Hawes — lay in an unmarked grave at Oak Hill Cemetery in Birmingham for more than 135 years. In April 2024, they finally received a headstone.The CrimesThe Lake County White Cap raid followed personal grudges that had been tightening for months. Blackburn, a mine foreman, had been thrown out of the Campers' Retreat after a brawl with the bartender Fred Bennett. Others in the group had boundary disputes, cattle quarrels, neighborhood debts to settle. They put flour sacks over their heads and called it a community morality action — the Whitecapping movement had spread from Indiana through the Southern states and into California by 1890. The plan was to flog Bennett and run him to the county line. Helen Riche unmasked Henry Arkarro the moment the men crashed through the door, and the plan collapsed into gunfire.Richard Hawes murdered three members of his own family to clear the way for a new marriage. Emma and Irene Hawes were found bound with curtain cord and weighted with railroad iron curve-braces in a Birmingham lake on December 8, 1888 — the same day a mob of approximately 2,000 people converged on the Jefferson County Jail demanding to hang him on the spot. Sheriff Joseph S. Smith fired into the crowd. Ten men were killed. Approximately thirty were wounded. The historical murder case that followed Hawes would take fourteen more months and a formal trial to reach the same conclusion the mob wanted.The Investigations and Legal OutcomesIn California, ten men were arrested within days. The mining community was small; Helen Riche had identified one attacker herself. The trial opened February 6, 1891, in Lakeport — *People of the State of California v. B.F. Staley et al.* Four men were convicted of second-degree murder: Blackburn sentenced to twenty-five years, Staley and Cradwick to twenty years each, Osgood to twelve years. All four were released from San Quentin within approximately three years. The Governor had commuted Blackburn's sentence to ten years following an extensive lobbying campaign. Three years, for a home invasion that killed two people.In Alabama, Richard Hawes was tried beginning April 22, 1889, before Judge Samuel Greene. The prosecution built the case around May's murder — the strongest evidence available, though entirely circumstantial: eyewitness testimony placing father and daughter on the streetcar together, and only the father returning. The jury deliberated fifty-five minutes. Death. After multiple appeals to the Alabama Supreme Court, all denied, Richard Hawes was hanged by Sheriff Smith on February 28, 1890 — the same man who had fired into a crowd to keep him alive for this moment. Hawes wore a geranium in his lapel. The gallows were built by a man who had served on his jury.Historical ContextBoth cases sit at a specific American intersection: communities losing faith in institutional justice and reaching for extralegal violence, with consequences that fell hardest on people who had nothing to do with the original grievance. The Whitecapping movement was already documented across Indiana, Tennessee, and Mississippi before it reached California. In Alabama, the Birmingham riot of 1888 killed ten bystanders, including Maurice Throckmorton, thirty-three, the city's postmaster, who was reportedly trying to calm the crowd when he was shot. The legal system delivered the outcome the mob demanded — it just took fourteen months and cost ten additional lives to get there.California's legislature responded to the broader wave of hooded vigilantism during this period with enhanced anti- vigilante and anti-mask statutes. For the Hawes case, Fannie Bryant — the family's cook and a key witness for the prosecution — was herself sentenced to death for allegedly aiding Hawes. She died in a prison riot before the sentence could be carried out. Her actual level of involvement remains contested. She was a Black woman in 1880s Alabama, easily targeted by a system that offered her no protection.Our Sponsors:* Check out Kensington Publishing: https://www.kensingtonbooks.com* Check out Mood and use my code SHANE for a great deal: https://mood.comAdvertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy

Shane Waters and Gemma Hoskins sit down together for the first time in over a year for a wide-ranging conversation about the unsolved 1969 murder of Sister Catherine Ann Cesnik in Baltimore, Maryland. Known to millions through the Netflix documentary The Keepers, Gemma has spent more than a decade investigating what happened to Sister Cathy, the young School Sister of Notre Dame who taught English and drama at Archbishop Keough High School. She was found dead two months after her disappearance. This episode is a Q&A, recorded live with questions submitted by listeners through the show's Facebook community.The Investigation: Timeline Questions and New DoubtsListeners asked about the timeline of the night Sister Cathy Cesnik disappeared on November 7, 1969. Father Gerard Koob, who was in a relationship with Sister Cathy, claims he called the police at 11:30 PM after arriving at her apartment. The police report says the call came at 1:30 AM, a two-hour gap that remains unexplained. Koob says he and Father Peter McKeon found Cathy's car around 3:30 AM during a walk, but the police report credits McKeon alone with the discovery.Gemma corrects a long-standing detail from The Keepers: the car was not found directly across the street from Cathy's apartment at Carriage House. It was actually found one court up the street, on Carriage Court, around a curve and out of direct line of sight from Lantern Court. She also confirms that the image of Sister Cathy's car shown in The Keepers was digitally placed into the scene by producer Jessica Hargrave as a visual aid. The steering wheel appears on the wrong side because the original police impound photo was flipped to match the camera angle.Shane and Gemma discuss the suspicious letter Father Koob claims Cathy wrote to him, a handwritten love letter dated 12:30 AM on the Monday before she disappeared. The letter was found in the morgue notes rather than the detective's case file. Shane points out this means it was likely turned over after Cathy's body was found in January 1970, not when she first went missing. A profiler formerly with Scotland Yard analyzed the letter's content and concluded it was not written by Sister Cathy. Koob did not pass his second polygraph examination.They also examine a separate letter Cathy wrote to her sister Marilyn, postmarked after the disappearance, which was admitted into evidence with the Baltimore County Police but has since gone missing. Shane raises the question of whether Father Koob could have written the letter to Marilyn as well, noting the parallels to the other letter and the movie ticket alibi.New Evidence: The Mary Statue at St. Clement'sGemma shares a story that has not been widely reported. Approximately two years ago, Eva Nelson, a publicly identified survivor of Father Joseph Maskell's abuse, told investigators she remembered watching Maskell bury something in the backyard of the St. Clement's rectory in Lansdowne. Police obtained permission from the current property owner and brought in ground-penetrating sonar equipment. Detective Josh Battaglia, the current investigator on Sister Cathy Cesnik's case, was present at the dig.After two visits and multiple excavations, they found a broken statue of the Virgin Mary buried beneath a large bush that had once been small when Eva was a child. Eva recognized the statue immediately. A nun at St. Clement's had given it to her for protection, telling her, "Mary will always protect you." Father Maskell found the statue, broke it in front of Eva, and forced her to watch him bury it. The discovery validates Eva's memory of events that took place decades ago.Historical ContextSister Catherine Ann Cesnik was a 26-year-old School Sister of Notre Dame who taught English and drama at Archbishop Keough High School in Baltimore. She disappeared on November 7, 1969 after leaving her apartment to run errands. Her body was found on January 3, 1970 in a wooded area in Lansdowne. Her murder has never been solved. Father Joseph Maskell, a Catholic priest and school counselor at Keough, was later accused of sexually abusing dozens of students throughout the 1960s and 1970s. Multiple survivors have said they believe Sister Cathy was killed because she was about to report the abuse. Maskell died in 2001 without facing criminal charges. The case was the subject of the 2017 Netflix documentary series The Keepers.Content WarningThis episode discusses clergy abuse and violence.Frequently Asked QuestionsWho is Gemma Hoskins?Gemma Hoskins is a retired Baltimore teacher and former student at Archbishop Keough High School. She has spent over a decade investigating the murder of her former teacher, Sister Cathy Cesnik. She was featured in the Netflix documentary The Keepers and authored a book about herself and the case. She was named Maryland Teacher of the Year in 1992.What happened to Sister Cathy Cesnik?Sister Catherine Ann Cesnik disappeared from her Baltimore apartment on November 7, 1969. She had gone out to run errands, including a stop at a local bakery. Her car was found near her apartment that night. Her body was found on January 3, 1970. Her murder remains unsolved.What was found buried at St. Clement's?Police used ground-penetrating sonar to search the backyard of a former rectory associated with Father Maskell in Lansdowne. They found a broken statue of the Virgin Mary that a survivor remembered Maskell burying in front of her decades earlier.Who is investigating Sister Cathy's case today?Detective Josh Battaglia of the Baltimore County Police Department currently handles the investigation into Sister Cathy Cesnik's murder. He took over from Corporal Robin Teal after her retirement.Crisis ResourcesIf you or someone you know has been affected by abuse:US: RAINN National Sexual Assault Hotline, 1-800-656-4673US: Childhelp National Child Abuse Hotline, 1-800-422-4453UK: NSPCC Helpline, 0808 800 5000UK: Rape Crisis England & Wales, 0808 500 2222Our Sponsors:* Check out Kensington Publishing: https://www.kensingtonbooks.com* Check out Mood and use my code SHANE for a great deal: https://mood.comAdvertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy

This episode contains discussions of murder, arsenic poisoning, the deaths of children, and historical criminal trials. Ifyou need to skip any portion, advance past that segment using your chapter markers. This EpisodeSeason 40 of Foul Play marks America's 250th anniversary by examining two cases that expose how the justice system treated killers differently based on wealth, gender, and class. This week: a double feature — one case from Texas, one from Pennsylvania, eleven years apart, and both asking the same question. Was justice served?In January 1877, a woman known as Diamond Bessie crossed a footbridge over Big Cypress Bayou in Jefferson, Texas. She never came back. Her companion — the wealthy son of a Cincinnati jeweler — walked away with her rings on his fingers and her luggage on his arm. What followed was one of the most contested murder trials in Texas history, in a town that was already losing everything. This is true crime at its most infuriating: a woman's life weighed against a powerful family's money.Then we cross to Philadelphia, 1888. Sarah Jane Whiteling, a forty-year-old factory worker's wife in a rear apartment on Cadwallader Street, lost her husband, her daughter, and her son inside sixty-seven days. The insurance companies paid out $399 total — $47 for her two-year-old boy. Arsenic trioxide was in every body. The prosecution called it wholesale murder. The defense called it insanity. The jury took two hours. This is historical true crime that doesn't let you look away.The VictimsDiamond Bessie — real name believed to be Annie Stone, born around 1854 in upstate New York — had built a life on her own terms in an era that gave women almost none. She worked in upscale establishments in Cincinnati, New Orleans, and Hot Springs, accepting fine jewelry as payment, which earned her the name everyone knew her by. Dark- haired, pale-skinned, with grey or steel-blue eyes that period newspapers described as striking, she was intelligent and charming by every account. She married Abraham Rothschild in Danville, Illinois on January 11, 1877. Ten days later, a Black woman named Sarah King found her body propped against a twisted oak in the bayou woods — fully clothed, stripped of every piece of jewelry, a single gunshot wound to her temple.The Whiteling victims were a family. John Whiteling, thirty-eight, worked as a streetcar conductor and factory worker. Bertha was nine years old. Willie was two. John died on or around March 20, 1888. Bertha died April 25. Willie died May 26. Sixty-seven days, start to finish. Each death had a doctor's signature and a natural cause on the certificate. None of those causes were arsenic. The bodies at Mechanics' Cemetery held the truth that the living room had hidden.The CrimesAbraham Rothschild — son of Meyer Rothschild, a prosperous Cincinnati jeweler — had been traveling with Bessie since meeting her in Hot Springs around 1875. On January 21, 1877, he bought two picnic lunches from Henrique's Restaurant in Jefferson, crossed the footbridge over Big Cypress Bayou with Bessie, and came back alone. He told the hotel staff she was visiting friends. The next morning he wore two of her large diamond rings to breakfast. Two days later he boarded the eastbound train with both sets of luggage. He was traced to the Capitol Hotel in Marshall, then arrested after shooting himself outside a saloon — blinded in his right eye — in Cincinnati. His family spent what contemporary sources called "no fewer than ten high-priced attorneys" on his defense, led by U.S. Congressman David B. Culberson. The first trial ended in a conviction and a death sentence. The Texas Court of Appeals threw it out on a procedural technicality. The second trial ended in an acquittal. The jury deliberated four hours.Sarah Jane Whiteling purchased Rough on Rats — an arsenic trioxide compound manufactured by Ephraim S. Wells of New Jersey — and administered it to three members of her household between March and May of 1888. Coroner Samuel H. Ashbridge ordered the bodies exhumed. Professor Henry Leffmann, a chemist, and Dr. Henry F. Formad, a pathologist, found arsenic in every body. A drugstore clerk confirmed the purchase. Sarah confessed. Her defense centered on Dr. Alice Bennett — the first female physician to lead a department at an American asylum, Norristown State Hospital — who testified that Whiteling suffered from "physiological insanity" linked to reproductive dysfunction. The prosecution answered with their own experts: Drs. Charles Mills and John Chapin, who acknowledged she was of weak mind but said she was not legally insane. The jury deliberated approximately two hours. Guilty. First-degree murder. Death.On June 25, 1889, at 10:07 in the morning, Sarah Jane Whiteling was executed at Moyamensing Prison in Philadelphia. She was the first woman executed in Philadelphia since colonial times. She reportedly appeared calm and believed she would be reunited with her children in heaven.Historical ContextBoth cases unfold during America's Gilded Age — that era of violent contradiction between spectacular wealth and grinding poverty. Jefferson, Texas had been the biggest riverport in the state until the Army Corps of Engineers removed the natural logjam on the Red River in 1873, and the railroad bypassed the city for Marshall. What had once shipped more than 75,000 bales of cotton annually was already hollowing out when Bessie's body was found. Reconstruction was collapsing across the South. Democrats had retaken the Texas state government three years earlier. In this context, the Rothschild family's ability to hire an army of lawyers — including a sitting U.S. Congressman — and purchase an acquittal reads as something beyond a legal outcome. It reads as a statement about whose life counted.In Philadelphia, 1888, a factory worker's full-year wages ran between $300 and $500. Sarah Whiteling collected $399 from three life insurance policies — nearly a year's salary — for the deaths of her husband and two children. The arithmetic is not subtle. Dr. Alice Bennett's insanity defense was, by the standards of 1888 forensic psychiatry, genuinely innovative — her theory of "physiological insanity" in women with reproductive dysfunction would later be examined in the *Journal of the American Academy of Psychiatry and the Law* (Vol. 48, No. 3, 2020). But the jury didn't buy it, and Sarah Whiteling hanged.Together these cases are a portrait of American justice in 1877 and 1888: brilliant, broken, and priced according to what you could afford.Our Sponsors:* Check out Kensington Publishing: https://www.kensingtonbooks.com* Check out Mood and use my code SHANE for a great deal: https://mood.comAdvertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy

Constance Kent's confession shocked a nation still reeling from the Road Hill House murder, altering her life forever as Victorian justice loomed. In Season 37's climax, Foul Play explores the ripple effects of Constance Kent's confession which exposed Victorian society's rigidities and prompted a broader contemplation of justice. Constance lived in quiet affluence, working through societal structures until her arrest. Her life changed irreversibly when she confessed, a decision that intertwined personal conscience and family protection. Her confession sparked debates epitomizing tangible yet metaphorical shackles of Victorian society, challenging its judicial integrity and posing moral dilemmas. As investigation closed, the era demanded not just answers but an understanding of its own reflection on morality and justice, captured in intensified legal proceedings and public reaction. This episode offers a window into Constance's psyche, exploring societal constraints on women and family honor. Discover details overshadowed by past conclusions and inspect the confession's reverberations through history. Tune in for deep personal reflections and modern implications of a confession steeped in controversy and courage. Our narration weaves together investigators' demands, familial pressure, and societal judgments. Our Sponsors:* Check out Kensington Publishing: https://www.kensingtonbooks.com* Check out Mood and use my code SHANE for a great deal: https://mood.comAdvertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy

Detective Whicher stumbled onto the Road Hill House murder, probing deeper into its secrets than anyone dared, forever changing investigative practices. Season 37's focus unfolds the life and work of Detective Whicher, a key figure in the Road Hill House murder case whose methods carried the burden of public scrutiny and professional respect. The Kent family remained enshrouded in mutual suspicion, their genteel Victorian lifestyle marred by deceit and unspoken animosities. Whicher, a man of methodical diligence and emotional insight, pushed forward amidst growing paranoia in the household. His approach and dedication symbolized the shift towards modern detective work within an era of horse-drawn carriages and industrial dawn. Rising above a storm of societal prejudice, Whicher's tactics reinforced the need for evidence over intuition, influencing law enforcement procedures henceforward. Presented with an imposing murder scene and restrictive tools, Whicher methodically gathered information, balanced public pressure, and defied expectations. Engage with this episode to learn his groundbreaking methods and witness the emotional toll on both investigator and suspects. The era's rigid class distinctions and moral expectations loom large, casting shadows on the truth. We examine into Whicher's personal battles, the skepticism faced, and why his innovations left lasting imprints on detective work. Support Foul Play: Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/foulplaypodcast Website: https://www.mythsandmalice.com/show/foul-play/ Apple Podcasts: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/foul-play-crime-series/id1525832703 Follow us: Instagram: @foulplaycrimeseries Twitter: @foulplaypodOur Sponsors:* Check out Kensington Publishing: https://www.kensingtonbooks.com* Check out Mood and use my code SHANE for a great deal: https://mood.comAdvertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy

Münsterberg's forgotten cannibal terrorized under the veil of normalcy... Enter the darker side of history with Season 36's exploration of serial killers. During the early 1920s, Münsterberg was unaware of a brutal presence lurking within its town. The victims, often travelers and transient workers, had fallen prey to the townsman who cannibalized beneath accepted societal surfaces. They lived simple lives, stripped of grand narratives, but deserve acknowledgement for their unjust plight. This case offers a reminder of the shadowy perils that can exist within seemingly innocuous communities. It reorients our perception of safety, community trust, and the unpredictable nature of human behavior. The uncovering of these brutal acts sent ripples through Münsterberg, dawning a grim realization of evil cloaked in the ordinary. Details emerged only posthumously, fostering stories that blurred with local folklore. Weimar-era Germany, a time of intense socio-political transformation, rooted this case in an atmosphere of economic strain and shifting moral codes. Within such turbulence, heinous acts easily went unchecked until too late. Listeners will traverse chilling accounts of crime revelations, investigative revelations, and the tragic tale's melding into forgotten history. This episode provides an unsettling reminder of latent darkness amid familiarity. --- Support Foul Play: Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/foulplaypodcast Website: https://www.mythsandmalice.com/show/foul-play/ Apple Podcasts: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/foul-play-crime-series/id1525832703 Follow us: Instagram: @foulplaycrimeseries Twitter: @foulplaypodOur Sponsors:* Check out Kensington Publishing: https://www.kensingtonbooks.com* Check out Mood and use my code SHANE for a great deal: https://mood.comAdvertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy