When Ricky and his friends and family forego a planned vacation to return to New York City to help an old friend, they become involved in a mystery which includes blackmail, arson, and lost love.
The lives of Bonnie Parker and Clyde Barrow started in Texas, but their stories have become legend across the country. They, along with a band of other ne'er-do-wells from other Texas towns, grew to national infamy during the Great Depression. West Dallas's Ralph Fults smuggled hacksaw blades into jail to break out Raymond Hamilton. In Galveston, the Downtown Gang, Beach Gang, Maceo brothers and others hustled and smuggled liquor for their speakeasy casinos. In 1940, bank robber and Texas Public Enemy Number One Red Goleman led authorities on a wild chase through Texas's Big Thicket. But behind the headlines lived real people and a Texas legacy. Author Bartee Haile weaves the stories of the well-known Barrow Gang, along with other notorious criminals of the day, together with their Texas roots..
In October 1935, three Doukhobor farm boys embarked on a violent trail of robbery and murder that stretched from Manitoba to Alberta. By the time the spree ended near Banff, seven people were dead, including the fugitives and four law-enforcement officers. For the next 70 years, these "farm-boy killers" held the distinction of being the RCMP's deadliest adversaries, yet many questions about the shocking case remained unanswered. This gripping narrative reveals surprising new details about the tragic events as it chronicles the disastrous impact of the Great Depression on the young killers and the lawmen who faced them down.
The award-winning author of The Two Civil War Battles of Newtonia “mine[s] the rich vein of bad men—and succeeds because of solid research.” —Fred Pfitser, editor, Ozarks Mountaineer This collection of events carries readers through an era of bootlegging, highway robbery, and vigilante courts. From the cow town of Baxter Springs, Kansas, to the booming mining camp of Granby, Missouri, the Ozarks were a magnet for lawlessness. Though some stories contain gory details, the author’s intention in narrating these events is not to pay tribute to the likes of the Tri-State Terror, Bloody Britton, or the Missouri Kid. Instead Larry Wood aspires to come to terms with the region’s violent past, learn from it, and move forward. Among tales of desperate characters and brutal murders is a strengthening of law and order. As the area’s criminals wreak havoc, the Ozarks become the staging area for the last public hanging in the United States and the FBI’s first killing of a criminal. Each chapter is filled with the grisly excitement of flying bullets and mob lynchings as vengeance is dealt by the betrayed, but the book also captures the changes made to protect law-abiding citizens. “Full of damnable acts, but they make for some darn interesting reading.” —HistoryNet
New Orleans in the 1920s and 1930s was a deadly place. In 1925, the city’s homicide rate was six times that of New York City and twelve times that of Boston. Jeffrey S. Adler has explored every homicide recorded in New Orleans between 1925 and 1940—over two thousand in all—scouring police and autopsy reports, old interviews, and crumbling newspapers. More than simply quantifying these cases, Adler places them in larger contexts—legal, political, cultural, and demographic—and emerges with a tale of racism, urban violence, and vicious policing that has startling relevance for today. Murder in New Orleans shows that whites were convicted of homicide at far higher rates than blacks leading up to the mid-1920s. But by the end of the following decade, this pattern had reversed completely, despite an overall drop in municipal crime rates. The injustice of this sharp rise in arrests was compounded by increasingly brutal treatment of black subjects by the New Orleans police department. Adler explores other counterintuitive trends in violence, particularly how murder soared during the flush times of the Roaring Twenties, how it plummeted during the Great Depression, and how the vicious response to African American crime occurred even as such violence plunged in frequency—revealing that the city’s cycle of racial policing and punishment was connected less to actual patterns of wrongdoing than to the national enshrinement of Jim Crow. Rather than some hyperviolent outlier, this Louisiana city was a harbinger of the endemic racism at the center of today’s criminal justice state. Murder in New Orleans lays bare how decades-old crimes, and the racially motivated cruelty of the official response, have baleful resonance in the age of Black Lives Matter.