The Birth of Forensic Medicine

Part chemistry, part history, part true crime THE POISONER'S HANDBOOK by Pulitzer Prize winner Deborah Blum tells the story of the handful of scientists who elevated forensic analysis to a respected profession through their work in New York throughout the 1920's and 30's.

Although it is a book about the past, much of it resonates with contemporary issues.  In reading about the years of prohibition, it was easy to see why the "noble experiment" failed since it expanded criminal enterprise, increased alcoholism and caused far more deaths by alcohol poisoning than ever before.  It's easy to draw parallels to the failure of our on-going War on Drugs.

The willingness of manufacturers, in those bygone decades, to allow numerous poisons to permeate consumer products for the sake of profit, reminds me a lot of the corporate greed seen recently on Wall Street as well as the indifference toward the health of Americans demonstrated by insurance corporations and others who make money off of the existing inequity in health care.

The scientists learning how to trace chloroform in the human body makes me think about the role that poison may have played in the murder of Caylee Anthony.

I found more incidents in the historical events that echo in today's world and you'll probably find some I've missed.  But what made this read most enjoyable was the personal writing style of Deborah Blum.  Reading THE POISONER'S HANDBOOK made me feel as if i was listening to a story from a trusted friend whose insight and thought provoking ideas I value and appreciate.

The one passage I liked best came at the very end of her Author's Notes.  It made me laugh out loud because it was a scene that could have taken place in my kitchen:

"There are mornings, lit by the cold winter light, when I start talking about a poison in my book, revealing my own dangerous expertise, and as I do, I watch my husband, quietly, not really thinking about it, slide his cup out of my reach."

It's a fabulous book.

Women in Crime Ink

Catch Kathryn Casey's interview with me about my latest book, MISTAKEN IDENTITY today on Women in Crime Ink.

In Honor of the Day

                   

An Old Irish Curse

in honor of St. Patrick's Day

        May those who love us, love us,

        And those that refuse to love us

        May God turn their hearts.

        If He can't turn their hearts,

        May he turn their ankles,

        So we'll know them by their limping.

Sing a Song of Winkler

Whenever I hear the song Killing Him by Amy LaVere, it always makes me think of Mary Winkler.  The line "Killing him didn't take the love away" echoes the sentiments Mary expressed after shooting her sleeping husband in the back.


Mary told the world: Sure, I held the shotgun that delivered the fatal injury to Matthew but I still love him.  Sounds like the story of Amy's inspiration for her poetry.  She was watching the news when she saw a woman led away in handcuffs shouting the hook of the song to reporters.

Now, there's an actual song about Mary, written and performed by the Drive-By Truckers, The Wig He Made Her Wear.  I find it pretty ironic that their focus is on that dubious piece of so-called evidence.


If you have any awareness of sexual fantasy role-playing, one thing is clear: when one wants one's partner to put on a wig, one wants to make one's partner appear like a different person.  In contrast, the wig displayed in the courtroom was short and brown-haired just like Mary's own tresses.  And it wasn't the actual wig that Mary claimed Matthew made her wear.

Just like the shoe--it wasn't real.  That reality slid past many courtroom observers.  Mary did not say the white platform hooker shoe she showed the world was the one Matthew made her wear, she said it was like the black shoes he had her put on her feet.

In other words, the wig and the shoe were just props.  Nothing but theatre designed by the defense.

I've said it before and I'll say it again: If I ever kill anyone, I want Steve Farese for my attorney.  He managed to get a sentence that required only sixty-seven days incarceration after the verdict for a woman who killed a man in his sleep.  And he did it pro bono.

What defendant could ask for anything more from his lawyer?

Knoxville was a Blast

Last week, I had a very productive time in Knoxville, Tennessee, working on my book about the Raynella Dossett Leath.  And on top of that, I had lots of fun.  Getting there wasn't easy, though.

I tried to find a flight from San Antonio to Knoxville and the options were nuts--one even took me to Colorado first.  The time from the initial flight to the final touchdown at my destination ranged from 7 to 9 hours.  I discovered I could fly to Nashville on a direct flight and drive to Knoxville in five hours or less. Go figure.

Michael Rogers, field producer of Snapped at Jupiter Entertainment, recommended the wonderful, historic Hotel St. Oliver (left) on the Market Square in the downtown area.  I loved the place: a large, comfortable suite, right in the heart of everything and a most cordial staff--Robin Carter and Cleveland Hendrick made me feel like family.  Best of all, without realizing it I was staying just two blocks from the office of Community Shares of Tennessee where Shelley Wascom, a dear friend from my former life in non-profit worked.

We went to dinner together that night at a new restaurant on Market Square, Cocoa Moon.  It was fabulous--the food was heavenly, the service impeccable and the ambiance perfect.  We sat in a booth that was more like a mini-living room with seats less like benchs and more like built-in sofas.  I enjoyed the best Shrimp Diablo ever along with a yummy Fiji Martini.

Tuesday morning, as I walked in light snow, I discovered another treasure, Coffee and Chocolate.  I ended up going there daily for a pumpkin spice latte and a totally incredible piece of Chipolte Carmel Chocolate.  I also saw the Tennessee Suffrage Memorial (right) at Market Square.  If you are wondering why it would be there, it's because Tennessee was the 36th state to ratify the amendment giving women the right to vote.  As I shot pictures of the statue, a photographer from the Knoxville Sentinel shot photographs of me.

Wednesday's highlight was the Japanese restaurant, a block from my hotel, that featured all you can eat sushi that night.  Yum.  Best Tuna Roll I have ever had and a very tasty Nigori sake to wash it down.

On my way to the Knox County Courthouse Thursday morning, I walked through the arch leading to the courtyard in front of the Howard H. Baker Jr. Federal Courthouse and was overwhelmed by the Audrey Flack bust entitled Justice (left).

Knoxville was an interesting place but what made the trip most enjoyable were the people.  In fact, the people in the whole state of Tennessee are some of the most welcoming, friendly folks I have ever met anywhere.  You pass them on the street with a smile and they smile back.  You greet them and they respond.  You ask for directions and if they don't know, they'll find someone who does.  And on top of all that, they perform random acts of kindness as a way of life. 

Of course, as a Texan, I am well aware of the fact that without people from Tennessee, there would hardly have been anyone at the Alamo. 

The only real problem I had in Knoxville were my frequent brain stutters when someone said "U.T."  The University of Tennessee is right next to the downtown area and it was mentioned by everyone and its color orange was everywhere.  Back here in Texas, when people say U.T., they mean University of Texas, whose color is also orange.  But I am an Aggie Mom and I bleed maroon.  So every time I heard U.T., I thought T.U.--traditional Texas A&M putdown of their archrival--and had to send my train of thought down a different rail to realize the intended meaning.

I really liked Knoxville--if it were only closer to the ocean or Gulf of Mexico, I would move there in a heartbeat.

The Winners in Three Ways to Win

I hit 1000 followers on Twitter and it's time to announce the winners of MISTAKEN IDENTITY in Three Ways to Win!

My 1000th Twitter follower is Joanne Tombrakos in New York City http://twitter.com/joannetombrakos

My random Twitter follower winner is: Cordelia in San Diego http://twitter.com/cottageantiques

My third winner, from my list of followers on this blog is Patricia Stoltey in Northern Colorado http://twitter.com/PStoltey

Congratulations, Joanne, Cordelia and Patricia! And keep coming back for more. I'll give away more books in the future.

Anthony Trail Date Set

The nebulous sometime-in-2011 trial date has been nailed down by Judge Stan Strickland.  Casey Anthony's capital murder trial is set for May 9, 2011.

Details on the expenses she wants the state to pay are out, too--a total of $112,000.   Of that accrued amount, $22,500 is for Chicago death penalty specialist Andrea Lyon.  The balance, nearly $90,000, is owed to good, old Jose Baez.  So much for defending Casey out of the goodness of his heart.

Caylee is worth more than that, in my opinion.  But the value of a child-murdering mother like Casey?  Not hardly.  But it is the price we may have to pay to secure justice for little Caylee.

Taxpayer Subsidies for That Woman?

Jose Baez has come forward with a claim that Casey Anthony is indigent and needs the state to pay for her defense.

It's hard to take when we, as taxpayers, have to pony up for the defense of a reprehensible, proven liar like Casey.  But, that is how our system works--everyone, guilty, innocent or insane has a right to their day in court with a licensed attorney to assist you with your case.  It is an attempt to balance the scales of justice and to try to provide a verdict that is not based on the size of the defendant's wallet.  It doesn't always work that way--the rich tend to do better in court than the poor--but at least it provides some measure of defense for those living in poverty.

In some states, there are public defenders' offices that are staffed and paid year round.  In others, the court appoints attorneys at lower than the usual rate earned by privately hired defense lawyers.

Both systems have their critics pointing out serious flaws.  On the one hand, public defenders are underpaid by the state, the argument goes, thus the best and brightest look for better paying jobs.  Maybe.  I've seen some people working in that capacity who are drawn by a deeply felt sense of mission.  For them, more money would be great, but it is not going to dictate their career.  

Appointments have bad problems, too.  Some states' standards are pretty low.  One man in Texas, charged with a capital offense, received the death penalty while their attorney slept through the trial, others while their lawyers did a crappy job on either the guilt and innocence phase or the punishment portion of the trial or both.

In Texas, a capital case requires the state to pay for two attorneys or an attorney and a expert.  I'm not sure if it is the same in Florida but if it is, this request from Baez would decimate Casey's defense team.  I imagine it is quite possible, though, that all the experts originally touted by Baez have come up with conclusions that don't help the defense.  In that case, they're already gone.

All we can do is just watch and wait.  But no matter how long it takes, I am convinced that, one day, there will be justice for little Caylee.