Transcript of Episode 637: The Bobbed Haired Bandit

Hey, weirdos, it's Ash. Before we dive into today's Twistered Tale, let me tell you about the spooky perks of WNDRI Plus. It's like having a skeleton key that unlocks ad-free listening and early access to new episodes. So don't wait. Try WNDRI Plus today. You can join WNDRI Plus in the WNDRI app or in Apple Podcasts or Spotify. You're listening to a Morbid Network podcast. I'm Afwa Hirsch. I'm Peter Frankerpen. In our podcast, Legacy, we explore the lives of some of the biggest characters in history. This season, we're looking at the life of the most famous Queen of France, Marie-Antoinette. Her death is seemingly more well known than her life, but her journey from the daughter of the Austrian Emperor to becoming the most hated woman in France is just as fascinating. We're going to look at the ways in which her story was distorted during the French Revolution and dig deeper into her real experiences in a troubled, difficult time. Marie is one of the most well-recognized but least well-understood names in history. We're talking about how her death led to the way that she was spoken about in the 19th, 20th, and 21st centuries.

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Hey, weirdos. I'm Elaina.

I'm Ash.

This is Morbid.

And it's beginning to look a lot like Christmas, but for you, it's probably June. I was like, No, no. I was like, I'm going somewhere with this. I'm going somewhere with this.

Me and Mikey both were like, No, no, No, it's not that. I was like, Wait, just give me a moment.

Just let me live. It's literally almost Christmas for us. We're five days out.

It's the new year for you. It's 2025. What's it like in the future?

It's been the new year for you. Yeah.

Is it cool there?

I hope so.

Is everything better? What are the drones doing in 2025?

Oh my God, I was just going to say that they could abduct me. It's fine. It's not aliens.

I was going to say they won't because it's not aliens. It's the government. So I don't want them to abduct me.

No, I'm not saying the government. I would like aliens. To come through and pick me up because I'm scared.

Because I'm scared.

Can you pick me up aliens?

I'm just complacent now.

That's scary for you, though.

I don't like that. I'm numb to it. I'm just like, well, it is what it is.

I got that, too. It's so funny. I had like, welcome to my therapy sessions. I had the worst end of the world anxiety for a long time, especially this year. I think just the mental state that I was in really fed to that. Fed that. But now I'm just like, I I feel like, one, people have always thought the world was ending. And that helps me immensely. It's fine. And then can't do anything about it.

Yeah. So why? Why stress about it?

My therapist really did some great fucking work on my mind. She did. Yeah. Shout out to her. Shout out to her. Shout out to all my therapists throughout the years. There's been eight of them.

Pour one out for all your therapists.

Pour one out for each of them. Each one of them. Each one. Each one. Well, I have an interesting case for us today that has nothing to do with therapy and everything to do with robbery.

Well, there we go. We told you we were going to give you a little palate cleanser-y, thing.

Yeah, it's definitely palate cleanser-y. This has just like, put them up, fella.

She's got a trans-Atlantic accent. Yes, 100 %. Yeah, she's got the Bob haircut.

Yeah, there's so many quotes throughout this, and I don't know if I'm great at a trans-Atlantic accent, but I'm definitely going to try.

That one was interesting, but I have faith in you.

No, that's fair. I'm also really tired. No, it wasn't good.

It was honestly, it was, oh, Mikey's worried that everyone's going to come after me, probably.

Listen, he loved me, so you better cool.

No, it was awesome. That was such a good trans.

Oh, that are really going to come after you because that was fake as fuck.

No, but I wish everybody saw the The finger guns. The finger guns that went along with it because it really added to it.

I liked it. Yeah, I do what I can. Yeah.

I'm going to punch ash in the face after this.

Guys, she hits me a lot all the time. It's crazy. I don't know how to transition out of that. I was like, Where do we go from here? Where do we go? Leave all the lights on, please. All right, all right, all right. So, Robbery, trans-Atlantic accent.

And, Ladies. And ladies, What is this case called? It has a fun name.

It's called, and you already know because you pressed the episode. But for those of you who didn't read it, the Bobbed Haired Bandit.

See, that's what I'm talking about.

The Bobbed Haired Bandit.

That's what we need after the Blackout Ripper.

And you know what? I have a fuck-ass bob right now. You do have a fuck-ass bob? So I feel seen. And my hairdresser just had her baby, so I'm going to have a fuck-ass bob for longer than I thought, which is totally fine. Welcome to the World Tee. But it was the perfect time to do this story.

Absolutely.

You and your fuck-ass bob. I'm cementing in my fuck-ass bobbed-em and let's go. Fuck Ass Bobbed 'Em. I like that. Fuck Ass Bobbed 'Em. I like it. Our hashtag still a thing, use that. Let's go. I'm old. All right. A little past 9:30 on the evening of January fifth, 1924, one Lester Lauden. That's his name. Lester. Lester. Isn't that a cute name? Like Lester Holt. I love him. Lester Lauden. Lester Lauden. He was working at the Thomas Rulston grocery in Park Slope, Brooklyn. That night had been pretty quiet. And as the evening was going on, fewer and fewer customers were coming in. The store was completely empty when a young woman entered. And let me tell you, baby, she was serving luke's. She was wearing a seal fur coat over a beautifully beated dress. It looked like she was on her way to a party. Oh, damn. He said, Who's that girl in her fuck-ass pop? He didn't even know who Madonna was yet, so it was crazy. No. But the woman approached the counter where he was standing and she had her hands in her coat pockets and she just said, Hello, can I have a dozen eggs?

I can't do trans-Atlanticism, so. #dustcabforcuty.

It's a great song.

It really is. It gets you crying. No, it does. All right. Well, as Lauden was wrapping up the eggs for this beautiful young woman, she took a few steps back from the counter and pulled out a 25 automatic pistol from that seal fur coat. And she shouted at him, stick them up, quick.

She did like a Mae West style.

That was my best shirt. Bitch.

She said, I'm happy to see you, and it's a gun.

Wait, you're good at it. Don't do that. This is my episode and not yours. But he immediately threw them hands in the air. Hell, yeah. Like he did care. He cared very much in that moment. He deeply cared. He was obviously focused on the woman in front of him with a giant pistol. But he also noticed that in the time it had taken him to get the What? I was just going to say eggs, but then my mouth went to say, ah. The ah. I don't know. It's a romantic vibe in this fucking Lowe's grocery store. It's the end of the year. I'm so tired. I'm like, But did she get the eggs? She didn't want the eggs. I want the eggs. And the time it takes them to get the eggs. I'm getting eggs today. Happy eggs. Yay, me too. A man had entered the store and was now corralling the other clerk to the back of a store. He was like, Everybody back here. The woman... Everybody back here now. The woman motioned for Lauden to join the other clerk. She was like, Go on, get back there. And she held her gun on all of them.

And the man shouted to or, Hold them back, as he started rifling through the register, stuffing bills and handfuls of coins into his pocket. That night also, one of the clerks hadn't pushed the cash envelope all the way into the safe, so they were also able to get that as well. Oh, shit. Once they grabbed all the cash in the store, $680 in total back then, which doesn't sound like a ton. That would be $12,545 today. Holy shit. Because this is 1924.

The Roaring Twenties.

They got all that money and they started backing away in the direction of the door. And the man yelled, Don't make a move. If you want your head blown off, just try to follow us out.

Oh, I liked that one. Yeah, I liked that. There was also some more finger guns.

Because he's backing out with guns. He said, If you want your head blown off, just try to follow us out. Don't make a move. Don't make any moves. Outside, they jumped into their car that was parked across the street, and they drove off, leaving the six clerks just huddled in the back of the store like, What the fuck just happened here? Damn. And probably traumatized. Probably. To the police and the public, the robbery of the grocery store wasn't that shocking. It wasn't that surprising. The economy was trending downward in New York at the time. We're entering the Great Depression.

It was pretty jazzy. It was, yeah.

Shit was popping off. A lot of men were out of work. It was also the time of Prohibition, so crime in general was on the rise between bootleggers and organized crime rings. It was fucking wild in the New York streets. In New York, the press dubbed the 1923 the Gunman's Year, noting that 270 murders had been committed with guns that year, many in the Commission of armed robbery. So this, unfortunately, wasn't a new concept to anybody. Yeah. Yeah. And all of this culminated in a culture of criminality that New Yorkers simply came to accept as a reality of life in the city at this point. On a smaller level, it reminds me of what you were talking about with the blackouts in the Blackout River story. It's like the setting in the time period really add to the vibe of the overall story. Oh, for sure.

Yeah, absolutely.

So while most people weren't super interested in the news of the robbery, what did catch people's attention was the fact that one of the robbers, and the one who seemed to take the lead, was a woman. And not just a woman, but she was young and she was fashionable.

She was hot. She was hot.

She was a hot girl. She was smoking. She did hot shit like Robin grocery stories. Yeah, hot girl shit. That's not hot shit. Don't do that. Yeah, don't do that. But for many New Yorkers, especially the older residents, the woman's clothing and specifically her hair while, were very symbolic of this youth culture that was emerging during this specific period. You know who I'm talking? I'm talking flappers. Flappers. Flappers were young, sexually liberated women, especially compared to generations before them, and they just didn't give a shit when it came to things like dancing, drinking, and mixed gender socialization. Oh, my goodness. They were talking to boys.

She's committing capers over here.

It's crazy. According to author Stephen comb, older generations came to view the bobbed hairstyle as a, Are you ready? Symptom of the mentally defective.

I'm obsessed with that.

The bobbed hairstyle was a symptom of the mentally defective And they even blamed this hairstyle for, quote, unquote, breaking up marriages. Absolutely. And then I wrote in my notes, Today, we call it a fuck-ass bob. A fuck-ass bob. And I got one. So the outrages over flappers and supposedly loose this woman was pretty much just like a moral panic, very similar to Satanic panic. It's when the older generations are like, Oh my God, the youth is crazy. It's always happened. But the fact that one of these robbers appeared to fall into that category of crazy youth only strengthened the belief among many that young people were heading in a very dangerous and even criminal direction. So already under pressure- Because they're fuck-ass bobs. They're fuck-ass bobs. Thank you. So already under pressure to do something about street crime in the city, Brooklyn police acted very quickly, and within a week, they arrested 22-year-old Helen Quigley, a former burlesque dancer. Oh, come on. She was just living with her father in Brooklyn. A few days earlier, her boyfriend, Vincent Apples-Kowalski.

I... This is such a case.

What a time to be alive. What a time. I'm dating Apples-Kowalski.

That's right. Who isn't?

You know.

You know what?

Yes. You know who isn't.

Valid question.

So a few days before she had been arrested, Apples there had been picked up on suspicion of robbery and wasted no time in confessing and also implicating Helen as his accomplice.

Wow. Loyalty.

I know. Seriously. They did bear a slight resemblance to the two who had robbed the Rollston grocery, and they were actually even picked out of a photo lineup by Lester Loden. But Helen Quigley insisted that she had nothing to do with the robbery or any of the other holdups in the area. She said, You got me wrong. Why I'm so afraid of a I can hardly look at one. I like that. I try. I'm really, really trying.

Yeah, you're starting to embody it.

Thank you. I automatically go Southern when I try to do an accent.

I mean, trans-Atlantic accents have a hint of Southern to it. So you're on there. All right.

Thank you.

I like it.

But she said, You got me wrong. You got me wrong. Now, despite her declaration of innocence, she was the embodiment of the 1920s flapper, right down to her very casual demeanor when she was faced with arrest. When police went to her dad's house to arrest her, she, quote, calmly asked if she could finish drying the separate dishes before they brought her in for questioning.

Priorities.

They said, Ma'am, you're under arrest for robbery. And she said, My dad's going to get pissed if I don't clean up dinner.

Yeah, she's like, You think I want to leave that in the sink? Fair enough. I think we want rodents in here? You know?

It is New York. But according to Helen, she did have a date with Apples Kowalski on the night of the murder, but he never showed up.

That's so like Apples.

You had his number from the very beginning.

Of course I did. Apples Kowalski? Come on.

She even Helen knew. So she was like, whatever. She didn't give a fuck. She was like, I just stayed home that night. Other than that, she called Kowalski a dirty rat and a squeler. That's right. She didn't say much else during the hours long interrogation. Damn. The press and the police were completely certain that she was the bobbed haired bandit who had robbed several stores in South Brooklyn neighborhoods. But that was certainly shaken just a few days later when another store was robbed. This time it was a Weinstein's drug store. According to Louis Hecht, the clerk who was at the Weinstein's that night. This is rude, a chunky bobbed-haired girl and her boyfriend entered the store and immediately pointed the gun at him, demanding the cash in the register. In the register, excuse me. After pocketing the cash in looting the store, the girl handed him a note and told him to give it to Captain Kerry of the Detective Bureau.

Oh my God. They're like, going. They're like, let's communicate with the cops.

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Thank you, Zbiotics, for sponsoring this episode and our good times. The note read, You dirty fish peddling bums, leave this innocent girl, Helen Quigley, alone and get the right ones, which is nobody but us. We are going to give Mr. Hogan, the manager of Rollston's on 7AV, another visit as we got two checks we couldn't cash. Also ask Bohack's manager, did I ruin his cash register? Also, I will visit him again as I broke a perfectly good automatic on it. We defy you fellows to catch us. I'm so obsessed.

The fact that she was like, You fucking bums.

No, she didn't say that.

An innocent girl You dirty fish peddling bums. Dirty fish peddling bums. You got the wrong girl in there. It looks like you got the wrong girl.

I beg of us to do better and to speak like this again.

To speak better.

Call people dirty fish peddling bums.

Honestly, that's a great insult.

It's chef's... I can't think of something better.

You know, I was looking up 1920s slang because I'm going to try to throw it in here as we go.

I love you.

To go on drinking spree on a toot.

On a toot.

Oh, you know where apples is? He's just on a toot. On a toot.

That's what your kids call a fart. So it makes it even funnier.

It's so funny. Like, everything was funnier.

It really was.

I know life was not funny here because the depression looming and all that shit.

Prohibition. They added so much to it to make it worthwhile.

I was going to say it was the stuff like this, the linguistics of the time.

It's so good. So good. So the note was find the bobbed haired bandit and companion. I love that she called herself The Bobbed Haired Bandit. Yeah, I think they had already dubbed her at that point. She was like, hit me.

But I love that she was like, I'll take it.

She said, and companion.

And my companion. Like, he's not. That's my companion. That egg over there.

I love it. So this note seemed to have been written explicitly for the purpose of proving the innocence of Helen Quigley and her man apples there. Good for her.

She's trying to get that girl out. She's like, it's me.

At that point, those apples and Helen Quigley had been arrained on a robbery and assault charges. Oh. So they're headed for the big house. Oh, damn. But by the time they received the note, captains Kerry and Sullivan had actually started to question whether Helen was actually guilty. And the latest robbery at the Weinstein's seemed to indicate that she probably wasn't the bandit. Yeah. So after Helen Quigley and Apple Kowalski's arrangement, I keep wanting to say arrangement.

You can say that. It's arranged.

It's arranged. Their arrangement and the announcement that they would be held on $20,000 bond. Another letter arrived for the police, and this one was more forceful than the last. The writer said, Why don't you see that Helen Quigley has let go? You cops are rotten, as she ain't guilty. If you can't find the guilty party, grab the first one you get a of if you hold a grudge against them. Wow. She said, You guys are filthy and fake.

She said, Wow, you're real dumb.

Pretty much. Unfortunately, the note had the opposite effect that the writer intended. The judge actually doubled Quigley and Kowalski's bond. Damn. And was pretty certain that the writer was just a third accomplice trying to weaken their case against the pair. But as the robberies continued, so did the letters to the police and to members of the press. On January 22nd, the editor of the Standard Union received a note that read, I must say we have a wonderful police force. They must all be asleep. Cold nights are the best to stick people up. The cops and bowls have hangouts and are always in on cold, wet nights. I passed two cops and bowls standing on Fulton Street and Bedford Avenue Saturday night. I asked one of them where Keeney's theater was, and they directed me. I almost laughed in their faces to think they were talking to the one they were looking for and can plainly see they blind or asleep.

She's... I'm not condoning anything that she has done. No. It's iconic.

No, it's truly iconic.

It's iconic.

She said...

She's like, I was right in your face. She said, L-O-L. And you got the wrong person. I'm telling you, you got the wrong person, and you're still not letting her So damn. I love what she's doing.

So by late January, store clerks and residents were seeing the bandit and her companion all over Brooklyn. On January 21st, a grocery in Brooklyn claimed he'd been robbed of $600 by the pair who escaped in a car that they had parked around the corner.

Which obviously that part is not great because you're like, these grocers do not deserve to be losing their work. You know what I mean? What they use to put food on their tables.

And the clerk's being scared to go to Exactly.

None of that is cool. Her notes are hilarious to the cops.

Just to clarify. Yeah. But that same night that the other robbery happened, four, quote, boy bandits ranging in age from 14. Boy bandits? Boy bandits. Ranging in age from 14 to 18, held up several stores in the Bronx and took more than $700. Oh my God. Which would be $13,000 in today's money. Get it together, everyone. I'm like, How did you hide that from your parents? Damn. Now, even though there was no apparent connection between these and the other holdups, the press still subtly implied that there was definitely an epidemic of violence and robberies being perpetrated by young people across the city. It's just a fact. One journalist wrote, Every other night or so, the frightened proprietor of a chain grocery store would back away from a crouching, snarling little demon whose eyes blazed over the sights of an ugly automatic, a foul-moved fury who but a moment before had seemed in the background. Wow. Why can't we do better? Why can't we talk like this?

Why can't we? They used to call Policeman Elbow.

Shut the f... Why? I need an explanation on that one. No.

Just call them Elbow. I love that. Yeah.

I love that so much.

Yeah.

Well, with each new bandit letter published in the paper, the public had new material to inform the growing mockery and the jokes aimed at the police who were unable to catch the pair. After a run of particularly rainy days in late January, the Standard Union joked, If this weather keeps up, the girl with the bob tear may try her luck in getting away with a red hot stove. Whoa. They said, The cops don't really work well during the rain, so she's going nuts. The increase in public criticism was very clearly starting to irritate city officials. In an article published in the New York Herald, Mayor John F. Hyland angrily told a reporter, there isn't any bobbed hair bandit. That's only a myth.

You just flimflam in us.

I'm like, Sir, she's been seen. She's been witnessed by several people who have been held up at these stores. Like, Is everybody just making this up?

Yeah, they just don't want to admit that. It's a hoax. You know what this is? There's a lady that's...

Getting the best of them.

Making us run for our money here, and we're not happy with it.

Yeah, she should stay in the kitchen where she belongs. Whether he genuinely believed that or not, there was indeed a bobbed haired bandit, and the failure to capture her was definitely starting to make the NYPD look like a bunch of idiots. They were so mad. And they were pissed. They were so mad. So on the night of January 26th, the contingent of 200 police officers, picture that, 200 scattered across neighborhoods all over Brooklyn, intent on capturing the bob-teared bandit and her companion. I love companion. Believing that the pair were sure to strike that night as they had the previous five Saturdays, officers stood watch outside of grocery stores, drug stores, and even delis around the city, just waiting for that bandit to make a mistake. At that same time, another large group of officers were assigned to watch over the home of NYPD Commissioner Richard Enright after one of the bandit's notes referenced making a visit to the man's home. Oh, damn. But by the time the police had spread out their net, the bandit had already robbed eight businesses of nearly $2,000. Holy shit. Which would be $37,000 in today's cash. Damn. And showed no signs of slowing down or even losing any confidence.

Because why slow down?

They're not catching you. It's raining.

I got to go. Yeah, it's raining.

However, despite that large scale effort, there was no sign of the bandit that January 26th night. And the next day, the press reported on yet another failure by the police. In the meantime, John Hyland expressed his complete support and Commissioner and and the NYPD, writing, It has always seemed to me a very regrettable feature of life in New York that some of the newspapers, consciously or unconsciously, aid an attempt to dislodge a fearless police commissioner. Wow. She's like, It's the newspaper's fault. It's, yeah, obviously. That we can't catch this person who doesn't exist. Obviously, it's the newspaper.

It's like, you're the one who's saying that she doesn't even exist.

Exactly. But now, as far as he was concerned, the bobbed-haired bandit wasn't the problem. The press was. He already said that he thought she was a myth created by the press to sell papers. And he later said, true, occasionally a girl may commit a larceny, but there's surely no occasion for the scareheads about girl bandits. The scareheads. The scareheads. Nor for moralists to say that the town is infested with them.

He's like, Girl, bandits aren't real.

That is exactly the energy that he is delivering.

Girl, bandits are fake.

Girl, bandits have cooties. No.

There's only boy bandits.

You can't be a girl bandit. No. You're stupid.

That's so funny.

But he said he was confident that if they could crack down on the press and prevent them from fueling this public hysteria, the bobbed hair bandit would just disappear and people would go on with their lives. Yeah. Because the press had no interest or reason to stop reporting on the bandit. But as long as she continued to pull off these robberies around the city, and as long as readers were interested in her antics, they were going to keep publishing the stories to sell those papers. Yeah. And they didn't give a shit how it made the police look. They were like, make yourselves look better. By early February, the The circle papers honed in on a new theory detectives had been developing, and it was that despite all reports, the bobbed-haired bandit was not a woman at all, but perhaps a young man disguising himself by wearing young woman's clothing.

Because once again, there's no a way that this is a girl bandit.

They said, A girl is not defying us like this. It must be a man. Yeah. While some may have found the theory more credible than others, just as many dismissed it as nonsense, noting that many of the witnesses, quote, describe the bandit's feet and shoes as typically feminine and her walk as characteristic of a member of the weaker sex.

Adorable. It makes me think of in Scream One when stew is like, No, there's no way a girl could have killed him. And Randy's like, It takes a man to do something like that.

Oh my God, it's so true. That's the perfect quote for this. That's the vibe that I'm getting. Takes a man. Takes a man to do something like that. I love it. That's exactly what this is giving. That's the vibe. Now, the bandit and her companion And they did lay low for a few weeks, and that was until early February when they were back at it again. Hell, yeah. With the fuck-ass bob.

Hell, yeah. She's getting out there with her glad rags.

What's a glad rag? Tell us all about it. Fancy clothes. Oh my God, her glad rags.

She's going to go commit a caper.

Is that a crime? Yeah. A robbery? A crime. They love it? Yeah. Well, they were back on the job and they landed themselves right back on the front pages of the New York papers. A little after 10:00 PM on the evening of February third, the bobbed-haired bandit entered an H. C. Bowhack grocery store on Lafayette Street and approached the counter wearing what the press described as a saucy turban trimmed with fur. Oh. I love a saucy turban.

A saucy turban.

Now, despite the late hour, there were still several store clerks behind the counter and actually three customers waiting in line. When she reached the counter, the bandit asked the butcher, Peter Crosman, for a whole chicken. She said, One whole chicken, please. Me too. The same. He disappeared into the deli, and when he returned with the chicken, the bandit pulled a revolver from her coat pocket and said, One peep and you're a dead butcher.

She said, Hey, grab a little air. That's also slang.

What does that mean? That means put your hands up. Grab a little air. I just love that she made a chicken Like one peep. Yeah, I love that. I love it. And you're a dead butcher. So the butcher dropped the chicken on the floor and threw his hands up in the air because, again, he did care.

Yeah, he grabbed a little air.

The bandit then whistled, and within seconds, her companion was by her side, pistolating in hand. And I just picture her doing the pinkies in the mouth whistle.

Oh, yeah, the pinkies in the mouth whistle. Like, whoa, what?

Hell, yeah. I wish I could do that whistle. The whew-whew. She then directed Causman and the other clerks to the back of the store. While the bandit kept everybody at the back of the store, the man went through the cash register, stuffing bills into his pockets. 150 bucks in total that night. Today, that'd be about 2,700 bucks. Once they emptied the registers, they backed their way out of the store, loudly declaring that they would shoot anybody who made a move or yelled for the police. And once they got outside, they just jumped in their car and they sped off.

And they said, bye.

A few days later, police arrested 19-year-old Mary Cody for this robbery, and they declared they had finally got her. This was their bob-teared bandit. Doubt it. They claimed more wasn't acting alone, but rather she was the leader of a gang of bandits that included her boyfriend, Matthew Boyd. Boyd. That's you, my girl. I love a boy. And me, my girl. And a man by the name of Richard Gibbons. Mary Cody and the two men were accused of several taxi cab holdups in the area. But the only evidence connecting her to the bandit robberies was the fact that she owned a seal fur coat and wore her hair in a bobbed style.

Yeah. Seems a little hinky to me.

She had a coat and a bob. I just want you to let that sink in.

That's it.

Ufo lands in Suffolk, and that's official, said the news of the world. But what really happened across two nights in December 1980, when US servicemen saw mysterious lights in the forest near RAF Woodbridge and claimed to have had a close encounter with an actual craft. Encounters, a new podcast available exclusively Family on WNDYRI Plus, takes a deep dive into one of the most famous and still unresolved UFO encounters to ever take place in the UK, featuring shocking testimony from first-hand witnesses, hosts, journalist, podcaster, and UFO researcher, Andy McGrillin, that's me, and producer, El Scott, take us back to the nights in question and examine all of the evidence and conflicting theories about what was encountered in the middle of a snowy Suffolk forest 40 years ago.

Are we Home, Encounters is a podcast which is going to find out.

Listen to Encounters exclusively in ad-free on WNDY Plus. Join WNDY Plus in the WNDY app or in Apple podcasts. Bunk, bunk, Michael, what are you doing? I'm saying Bunk, Vinnie. What's a Bunk?

I'm glad you asked, Vinnie.

Bunk is a super easy-to-use free digital bank that pays 2.67% interest on your savings. Paid weekly, fully on demand, and can be set up in just five minutes.

And It's fun to say, Bunk.

Bunk. I see. What does my bank pay?

Next to nothing. On Bunk?

2.67%, Vinnie.Paid weekly.Paid weekly. Okay, Bunk. Bunk.

Hey, it is fun to say.

Bunk Ireland is regulated by the Dutch Central Bank and by the Central Bank of Ireland for Rules of Business Conduct. Terms and conditions apply. Unfortunately, when their robbery victims were shown photographs of this woman and her two accomplices, So they all denied that she was the bandit. They said, No, that's not the girl.

They said, No, she's just got a coat.

They said, Okay, fine. They arrested another young woman just one day later. They said, All right, Mario, it's not you. But I think it's Rose Moore.

Yeah, me too.

We're going to go arrest her. Yeah. And they arrested her after her mother reported her missing to the police. When a detective caught up with Rose, she was wearing a seal skin coat and a pink hat over her bobbed ass hair. Over her bobbed ass hair. Over her bobbed ass hair. The arresting detective told the Brooklyn Eagle he was, quote, Satisfied in his own mind that Rose Moore and the notorious bobbed haired bandit, wily and defiant, were one in the same. But the next day, it was clear she had nothing to do with the holdups, and she was released from custody. Her brother, Edward, who actually was the one to report his suspicions of her to the police, later said, Rose is a good girl, but fond of fun, and I suppose I was too strict with her. My sister had no record of any kind against her, of course. And it was really my fault that she received this unpleasant publicity. Wow. Fond of fun.

You're a shitbag.

He was like, You're having too much fun. I'm going to make them think you're a bandit.

You have a fuck ass bob. I'm going to put you in the big house. Men suck. You're the worst. Are you kidding?

He's like, It's like her brother.

It's like, Shut the fuck up.

Yeah, shut the fuck up, Kyle.

Shut the fuck up, sibling. Get the fuck out of here. She's having too much fun. I got to throw her in the big house. You're not my dad. Yeah, get the fuck out of here.

Well, by this point, Helen Quigley and Mary Cody were actually still in custody on suspicion of being... Jesus, these poor people. They're just like, they're arresting more people while they have all the bobbed hair girls in little holding cells. All of them. Police were arresting or detaining anybody who fit the description of the bandit and her companion, desperate to close the case.

And her companion.

They were just desperate to close the case. They wanted to end all the public criticism. Meanwhile, as detectives interrogated Rose Moore, the real bandit continued writing notes, just taunting the police and condemning the press for printing lies about her. After an interview with the supposed bandit appeared in the Brooklyn Eagle, the editor received a note that read, Dear sir, the interview you printed about the bobbed haired bandit was a fake, and you ought to be exposed. It seems to me that you would have more to do than sit down and just make things up. Personally, I think you are a bum. I have never been interviewed as a matter of a fact, and I defy you. Ps, I also defy the police. A A geographic copy of this letter has been turned over to the police of the Popular Street Station.

I think you are a bum. She does not get- We need to start calling people Bums. We do. Bring it back. We have to.

Call people Bums 2025.

Yeah, 25, we're bringing back, calling people bums.

Personally, I think you are a bum. It should be said that while the bobbed-haired bandit did write a lot of notes to the police and the press, there were countless other fake notes. Oh, I'm sure. Written by anonymous senders. It's not always known which is which, but- But all of them, they have such zest and flair. They do have such zest and flair. What else do they have?

They're very hotsy-totsy.

They are very hotsy-totsy.

And you know what? We got a lot of bobhaired patsies sitting in the big house right now.

Tell me everything. What? Bob-haired patsies?

Yeah, patsies are people who are set up. A fool, a chump. A chump? They're sitting in the big house in jail.

This is too much. I love it so much. I wish we were dressed like swanky. I know. I'm wearing sweat pants.

We need to do a list of their tale that's 1920s themed so we can go.

Literally yesterday.

I don't know how we do that, but we'll figure it out.

We could just read regular tales and just decide to be 1920s. I love it.

I like it.

Well, regardless, the letters became so popular with readers that the Brooklyn Eagle just continued collecting them and publishing them now on a weekly basis. Damn. Much to the irritation of the police. I imagine. Because not only did the letters make detectives look foolish for their inability to catch the bandit, but they also reminded New Yorkers that crime was still a big problem in the city, and that fact reflected very poorly on police Commissioner Enright. After a few weeks of downtime, the bandit popped up again in late February. This time wielding a pistol in each hand. She got one, too. Oh, damn. And this was when she and her companion robbed the James Butler grocery in Brooklyn. By that point, the public had started mistakingly seeing the bandit everywhere. So when the woman entered the store wearing her three-quarter length seal-skin coat and her black turban. One of the customers shouted, The Bob Hand Bandit. She's arrived. Here she is. The pair went through their usual routine, crurrelling the customers and the clerks to the back of the store while one of them went through the registers, and then they backed out of the store with their guns drawn and said, Don't tell anybody.

And they said, Oh, my God, it's really a skirt. What does that one mean? She's a real skirt.

She's a real skirt? What's it mean?

A woman.

A A woman? Oh, my God, it's a woman. It's a skirt bandit. As they made their way out of the door, the bandit shouted, Give us 10 minutes to get away or you'll be sorry. This time, the total takeaway was less than $60, but still a good sum of money. That'd be about a thousand bucks today. The latest string of robberies led the police to devise a new strategy, though, casting an even wider net and questioning nearly anyone who met even one of the bandit's descriptors. However, while this strategy was intended to catch the criminal, it had the unintended effect of scaring or just straight up inconveniencing the female members of the public. By the end of February, detectives had put so much emphasis on the bandit's hair and clothing that women all over the city started altering their appearances so that they wouldn't be mistaken for the bandit.

Oh, damn.

Yeah. One hair stylist told a reporter, Girls won't bob their hair anymore, and the ones who have theirs already bobbed are letting it grow as fast as they can.

Just encouraging their hair to grow. Like, Please grow, please grow, please grow. Every night they're like, Please grow faster. That's how that works.

They're using rosemary oil.

Biology.

The sentiment was shared by others in the beauty industry and only led to more criticism of the police and of course, their inability to catch this bobbed hair bandit. I love her. Another stylist told reporters, It's a shame the way the police are playing hide and seek with the girl and letting her out with them all the time. I love this. A police force of bobbed-haired girls would catch her soon enough. She said, Fuck that. Why don't we take all these bobbed-haired arrestees and make them the police.

Yeah, they're out here. They're tooting the wrong Ringer. Yeah. You know?

Is that like barking up the wrong tree?

Asking the wrong person.

I love it. Tooting up the wrong Ringer. Fortunately for the NYPD, it would not come to that. But I do love the image that conjures.

I immediately thought of a bunch of fuck-ass bob-haired flappers just walking in, flashing a badge.

I love it. I love it. I want to be one. The robberies continued into March, and of course, so did the sensational press coverage. Soon enough, the bandit was being celebrated by most as a anti-hero, and obviously an early feminist figure, pushing back on the suffocating norms and restrictions imposed by a world ruled of stinky stupid men. There you go. One journalist wrote for the Brooklyn Eagle, Brooklyn's Girl Bandit is merely part of the great world's revolt against authority and correct principles, using her energies on the only plane open to her in which she can revolt.

Whoa.

They said, She's got a bob and she's robbing people and fuck men. Yeah.

She's a weak sister.

No. Love it. By the end of March, Commissioner Enright was fucking pissed, and the NYPD in him had become so frustrated with the situation that he started to speak out to the press about how he might have to step into the investigation and bring the bandit in himself. He said, I had about reached the conclusion that I would have to go out and get her myself. I'm not so sure that she is not a shorthead man.

I'll see. We can't. We can't just give it.

It's a skirt. I'm like, No, she's a skirt and she's getting the best to you, Commissioner.

And you're just upset about it.

His comments were aimed at the critics of the police, but it's also clear from his statement that the bandit's gender was at least some degree of a threat to him. Oh, yeah. Otherwise, he would have never called it into question.

Exactly. Asshole. I'm saying.

For months, the bandit and her companion had been holding up drugstores.

It's my favorite part, to be honest.

Her companion and groceries around the city, all without firing a single shot or harming anybody. No shots have been fired up to this point.

Which, thankful for that.

But that all changed on April first, when the pair attempted to rob the payroll Department of the National Biscuit Company, which is a company that I would love to support.

I was going to say that place is near and dear to my heart. Same.

Now, the heist was to be the biggest of their career thus far, not only because it was supposed to be the biggest payout, but also because it occurred in broad daylight while a number, a A large number of clerks were present. That morning, the couple actually hired a car to take them to the Biscuit Company, which I'm going to do that, too. And I'm not going to rob them. I'm just going to buy a lot of biscuits.

I'm getting a car to go to the Biscuit Company right now. Nibisco.

National Biscuit Company. Nabisco. Oh, my God. I never knew that. Mikey just told us Nabisco.

Mikey just cracked the code.

I never knew that. National Biscuit Company. What the fuck? I'm going to support them.

Boom.

Well, when they- Boom. Boom. When they arrived to Nabisco, the man pointed a gun at the driver, Arthur West, and told him to get in the back of the car. Once West had been tied up and placed on the floor in the back seat, the bandit took over the wheel and they continued down the street to the National Biscuit warehouse, Nabisco, Waha.

Waha.

Waha. Waha. Waha. Waha. Once they reach their destination, they parked on the street outside the Waha warehouse and entered through the front door and climbed the stairs straight to the administrative offices. So on the second floor, the young woman walked to the caged-in payroll office, and she stepped up to the desk and handed the clerk, Nathan Mazo, an envelope. Mazo opened the envelope and took out the paper inside, but it appeared to be blank. When he looked up, prepared to question the woman in front of him, he found himself staring into the barrel of the bobbed-haired bandit's pistol. Oh. Seconds later, the bandit's male companion appeared at her side with pistols in both hands and a handkerchief covering his face. Oh. The payroll office erupted into chaos as the Clerks and Secretaries started running, trying to escape the gunmen. But the bandit kept focused on Mazo, and the other man corralled the employees and forced them into a smaller office just adjacent to the payroll cage. Now, as the staff began filing into the small office, Mazo was last in line, and he appeared to make a move for the bandit's gun, grabbing her arm when he passed by her.

The bandit fell back away from Mazo, tumbling over a chair and falling to the floor. Seeing what was happening, her companion fired two shots, hitting Mazo in the arm, causing the man obviously to scream, and then the scene to erupt in the chaos.

Just erupted, yeah.

Because fire has now been- You've now heard gunshots.

Exactly.

What everything having gone awry, the pair fled down the stairs and out to the car with several National Biscuit drivers following behind them now.

They were doing these little ones that were going well.

At night.

And they got They were putting on the rips.

They were highhatten. I know what that's all about.

Highhatten. They were getting swelled. They were on on side, acting high-toned.

Acting high-toned.

Got to keep it chill.

You got to chill out. How do you say chill out in 1929?

I think it's like... Hold on.

Hold on.

You got to summer down. You got to cool your jets, hold your horses, keep your shirt I like keep your shirt on. Take it easy. Pipe down. Keep your hair on.

Keep your hair on. Why do I feel like your mom right now? She doesn't really talk like that, but like,.

She has a 1920s vibe about her when she gets going.

Why don't you be a biba lupas, baby?

She does. She does the transiting. I just like the high hat and getting swelled. Getting swelled. Getting too big for your breath. Keep your hair on.

Keep your hair on. Well, nobody's hair was on. Everybody was They were fucking terrified. They were getting swelled. They were getting rightfully swelled.

They were acting way too high-toned.

An ambulance and police arrived at the scene a short time later, and Nathan Mazo was taken to the hospital for treatment. A few blocks away, a patrolman came upon the packard that the pair had arrived in. And the driver, Arthur West, was still tied up on the floor in the back. The patrolman took the car and the driver to the nearest precinct, where he explained that he had picked up the couple at a hotel near Prospect Park and had driven them down to where the car had been found, at which point he was jumped by the couple and thrown into the back of the car.

Oh, damn.

He said he had not seen either passenger's face, but according to the press, quote, his description of both the girl and her companion tallied perfectly with that of the Bob Tared Bandit and her companion.

Oh.

Behind the doors of government offices and military compounds, there are hidden stories and buried secrets from the darkest corners of history, from covert experiments pushing the boundaries of science to operations so secretive they were barely whispered about. Each week, On redacted, declassified mysteries, we pull back the curtain on these hidden histories, 100% true and verifiable stories that expose the shadowy underbelly of power. Consider Operation Paper Club, where former Nazi scientists were brought to America after in World War II, not as prisoners, but as assets to advance US intelligence during the Cold War. These are just old conspiracy theories. They're thoroughly investigated accounts that reveal the uncomfortable truths still shaping our world today. The stories are real. The secrets are shocking. Follow redacted Declassified mysteries with me, Luke LaMonna, on the WNDRI app or wherever you get your podcasts. To listen ad-free, join WNDRI Plus in the WNDRI app. After 17 successful robberies. 17. 17. We just did the highlights here. Holy shit. The holdup of the National Biscuit Company, Nabisco, changed everything for the bandit and her companion. Wow. Where she was spoken of as an anti-hero, now the papers were accusing her and her companion as attempted murderers and announcing quite inaccurately, that Mawzo's wounds will, quote, probably prove fatal.

They didn't. Okay.

He was shot, which is very wrong. Absolutely. He was shot in the arm. He was not going to die. A few days later, he himself would capitalize on the spotlight, giving interviews where he heroically claimed that he had been reaching for the gun, not trying to remove the bandit's veil, as had been suggested by the police and the press. He told a reporter, believe me, if I got that gun, I would have saved the police a lot of trouble. I'd have killed them both. That's what I'm going to do next time. I'm going to get the gun and I'm going to shoot her.

Honestly, I probably would have been as insufferable. If you shoot me in the arm. I would have come out and I would have been like, next time I'm getting that gun.

I'm getting you. Yeah. You shoot me in the arm, you're done. Yeah. But if Nathan Mazo was fantasizing about a second visit from the bandit and her companion, he would be sadly disappointed. After months of robberies and obviously very intense press coverage, the bobbed-haired bandit and her companion seemingly disappeared. Whoa. For weeks, NYPD officers and detectives spread across the city in search of the bobbed-haired bandit and her companion. But the robberies had stopped altogether, and there was no sign of the infamous duo anywhere. Wow. Finally, in mid-April, investigators got a break when they learned that the Parkers, who were the couple that hired the car and the driver that took them to the Biscuit Company, were 20-year-old Celia Cooney. 20? 20-year-old Celia Cooney and her 25-year-old husband, Ed.

Ed. Ed. Honestly, yeah, her companion is Ed.

The couple lived in Brooklyn until recently when they gave up their apartment and told their landlord that they were moving down to Florida. Nypd detectives contacted authorities in Florida who put out an alert across the state. And in the early hours of April 21st, Celia and Ed Cooney were arrested at a roaming house in Jacksonville.

Damn. Is that her? Yeah.

The Bob Tate bandit.

She does look 20. She looks younger than that, to be honest.

Yeah. Wow. So now who exactly were Celia and Ed Cooney? Who were they? Well, Celia was born into extreme poverty and raised along with seven brothers and sisters by a single mother who relied on her children to beg for money in the street. That's how bad things were.

So she... This was in her bones already.

For most of her younger years, the family lived in a coal cellar until Celia was taken in by an aunt in Brooklyn when she was 14. In 1918, she moved out on her own, and a few years later, in 1923, she met her now husband, Ed, at a Vaudville Theater on Fulton Street.

I love that. I love a Vaudville theater. That's so 1920s. That's so of the time.

It's a beautiful love story, to be honest. She later remembered that night saying, I thought I'd blow 30 cents taking in a show and hoping to run into some friends. But by the end of the night, she struck up a conversation with the man next to her, and as the picture came to an end, she had fallen in love with Ed's, quote, unquote, wonderful smile.

Oh my God, right? That's actually really sweet.

They dated for a few months before they decided to get married on May 18th, 1923. And Celia said, I'd never been so happy in my life, but we weren't saving a cent. Ed kept insisting on me buying myself some nice clothes. It seemed so wonderful to me to be loved and worried about. So we spent our money that summer almost as fast as we made it. Wow. At the same time, Ed was working as a welder for a small garage in Brooklyn. And while the salary wasn't great, it was enough to pay a small rent on the small room that they shared in a rooming house. But in September, Celia learned that she was pregnant, and that news changed everything. She told Ed, I'm not going to have my baby raised in a little two by four hole like I was, insisting that they needed to find a more suitable home for their family. And Ed promised that he would find a way to make it happen.

This was how. That sounds like such a sweet story at first.

You're just like, you like, root for them. Yeah. And then they He just said, you know how we could do that?

Robbing a lot of places. And you said, oh, no.

This was how Celia and Ed Cooney became the bobbed haired bandit and her companion. Wow.

And her companion, Ed.

At first, it all seems like this strange fantasy to the young couple. Celia said, I had been reading magazines and books about girl crooks and bandits. Girl crooks. Girl crooks and bandits. And it began to seem like a game or play acting after Ed really came home with the guns. It was more exciting than anything I'd ever thought I'd do. Wow. The couple said they never intended to hurt anybody and they never wanted to. The shooting at the Biscuit Company was completely unexpected, and it was an unconscious reaction from Ed when he thought his pregnant wife was in danger.

He told the police- And in that sense, you're like, you Obviously, being in the position of robbing people- Whilst pregnant. Already, you lose that argument. You know what I mean? That's it. But now you almost believe her when she says, We didn't intend to hurt anybody because they never tried to before. No. It seemed like the intimidation tactic was what they were going with, and it seemed to work.

Yes, which is wrong.

And throwing people off kilter with her being the first one going in there with the gun, I think was their intention, throwing them off completely at first. And then Ed can saunter in all tall and- Get everything done. Get everything done.

Yeah. I think his reaction was a somewhat natural instinct, I guess. He was just trying to protect his pregnant wife.

But it's not okay. They put themselves in that position to begin with. So it's like- Precisely. Your argument falls flat.

Precisely. He told police, I thought she had been struck or maybe cut, and I fired through the door at Mazo, who fell. My girl was down and I had to rush in. I picked her up and carried her out. If they had had already planned to go to Florida after one final heist, the reports in the papers the next day certainly would have prompted them to run. Among the details of the holdup and the shooting were detailed descriptions of both Celia and Ed, along with orders from Commissioner Enright to, shoot her on site if necessary.

Damn.

Which is like, I don't think that's necessary. Yeah. Without the money from the biscuit holdup, life in Florida wasn't much better than what they had in New York when they first got married. After spending most of their money on train and boat fares to get to Jacksonville, the two had run out of money, and they vowed not to commit any more holdups. Silja said, We had less than $50 left and my baby was coming soon, which would cost money. The bandit stuff was over. We never even thought of trying that again. So Ed set out to find work as a mechanic in Jacksonville. But by then, their descriptions had made it to the papers up and down the East Coast, and then would be followed by their actual names. So they knew it was only a matter of time before law enforcement caught up with them. A few days after their arrest, Ed and Celia were brought back to New York, much to the delight of the New York press, who were happy to have their main story back in the city. The pair were quickly arranged on charges of armed robbery and assault, where they indicated their willingness to plea guilty to as many as 10 robberies.

But they both maintained that they only started robbing stores in order to afford their baby and give Ed to find a better paying job. Give him some time to do that. Celia proudly told the court that the world owed them a living And she said, We did not want our baby born in an unfinished room. We needed money to get furniture and set up our own home. And Ed said, I had been reading in the newspapers of numerous robberies, and I decided I might get enough money that way to fix us up Damn. Although enthusiasm for the couple had wained slightly once they were identified, Celia and Ed still had a fair share of fans and more than a little sympathy. When they arrived to New York from Florida, their train was met by a mob of onlookers. Hundreds of people rushed the train stores just in an effort to get a look at the bandit and her companion. Oh, I believe it. And more than a few of them were saddened to hear that just a few days before being brought back to New York, Celia had given birth to her baby, and the baby unfortunately passed away a few days later.

Oh, that's sad.

Yeah, the baby was buried in Florida. Detectives, meanwhile, had a hard time believing that Celia Cooney was the bobbed-haired bandit who had plagued them for months. If you see her, she's just this tiny little thing.

She's so It's pretty subtle.

Friends and neighbors reported to investigators that Ed also was one of the nicest guys they knew, and they never would have suspected him to be an armed robber. But Celia, on the other hand, received fewer glowing reviews from people who actually really knew her. Oh. According to one of her former landlades, Celia would, lay in a filthy bed in a filthy room until noon every day, reading detective and true crime magazines and watching boxing matches.

Damn. Yeah.

Wow.

There's a lot to unpack there.

And an anonymous source interviewed by the press also had questionable things to say about Celia. They said she would talk to men on the phone who had Italian names. I had the suspicion then that she was talking to members of the Underworld. That's the way she struck me.

These men had Italian names.

Maybe she's just friends with Italians.

You don't say.

Jesus Christ. I love how it's just like, automatically.

That is the wildest story.

She's talking to Joe Bonino.

These men with Italian names, they're definitely part of the underworld. They have to be.

In the days after the arraignment, a new narrative was emerging in the press. Now that she had been unmasked, the bobbed-haired bandit was no longer a symbol of the feminist revolution. Now people just thought she was a a low class degenerate who had duped her husband into being her criminal accomplice.

Damn, how the money might have fallen.

Wow. We didn't plan that. No. A few days after their arraignment, Judge George Martin announced that he wanted the pair to be evaluated by psychiatrists after receiving concerning letters from members of Ed's family. According to the letters, Ed had, quote, shown signs of a a disordered mentality since childhood, and he displayed apparent inability to grasp a situation. Oh. Which is interesting.

That is interesting.

Sealing Célia, on the other hand, was described in dismissive and scathing terms. The press claimed that she, had begun to visualize the unwritten part of the detective stories of which she is so fond of. She looks forward to the sentencing in court. It's dramatic possibilities appeal to her. Oh, man. So there's like she's wrapped up in this crime fantasy world, really.

The image of her is falling slowly. Yeah. Now a little faster, actually.

They're making an example of her.

Titten the skids.

The psychiatrist's opinions of Célia were no kinder than the press had been. Celia, he claimed, was the head of the operation while Ed was, quote, Usually in the background, and his function was to smash the cash registers and gather in the loot while his wife took center stage. The psychiatrist told a reporter there was something She was acting abnormal and not womanly about her actions. She was acting under an impulse that was apparently un-natural. And in every case, she dominated the man who was with her. She was the director, and he was simply a tool.

I love that. They're like, That's not womanly. I'm like, Yeah.

Excuse me? I should reevaluate my life then, I guess. A few weeks later, on May 6, Celia and Ed appeared before Judge Martin, where they pleaded guilty to charges of robbery and assault. Each was sentenced to 10 years in prison. Ed went to Sing and Celia went to Auburn Correctional Facility, and they both had the opportunity for parole after seven years. Before leaving the courtroom, Celia wrote one last note, this one to the judge in the hopes that he would share it with the press. And the New York Times shared it. She wrote, To those girls who think they would like to see their names in the paper as mine has been or think they would like to do what I have done, let me just say, 'don't try to do it. You don't know what you will suffer. While I smile, my heart is breaking in me.

' Oh, She was just lost.

She was very lost. She was very lost.

What she did was wrong. Very bad choices.

Very bad choices. Very bad choices. But I do have this weird sympathy for her.

Because you think she... I mean, she obviously grew up with nothing. With nothing. Yeah, with nothing. It's like she clearly fell into these, detective magazines and all that.

She thought it was going to be this glamorous.

Yeah.

But what she, again, the moral of the story is what she did was wrong.

Yeah, because while she was obviously lost and thought it was going to be this whole glamorous thing. She also wasn't thinking about the people whose lives she was completely destroying and putting at risk. That money, taking that from somebody like a grocery or somebody who owns a business.

That's their whole That's it.

It's like, and they have families, too, that they need to take care of. So it's like, yeah, you may be pregnant. You may be trying to feed your kid. Taking it out of somebody else's mouth who's working hard for it is not the way to do it. There's other ways.

Yeah. Now, in late October, 1931, Celia and Ed Cooney were each granted parole on the condition that they find suitable employment. Unfortunately for Ed, that was going to be pretty difficult. He had had an accident in the prison machine shop, and that had resulted in his arm being amputated.

Oh, damn.

He sadly died from tuberculosis just five years later.

Oh, poor Ed.

I know. Celia did manage to find work as a typist, and she remarried in the mid-1940s and just did her best to stay out of the public eye. She relocated to Florida, and she died from natural causes in 1992. Damn. Isn't that crazy? Holy shit. Yeah, she lived a long life. Yeah.

That was... That was a swell, a Jake, a Nifty, the cat's miaou, the cat's pajamas, the bee's knees. I was having a ball. It was a whoopy.

And with all that being said, we sure hope you keep listening.

And we hope you... Keep it...

Weird. I don't know, that was my best. Not so weird that you try a trans-Atlantic accent and you really feel miserably at that point.

If you like Morbid, you can listen early and ad-free right now by joining WNDYRI Plus in the WNDYRI app or on Apple podcasts. Prime members can listen ad-free on Amazon Music. Before you go, tell us about yourself by filling out a short survey at wondery. Com/survey. Being an actual royal is never about finding your happy ending, but the worst part is, if they step out of line or fall in love with the wrong person, it changes the course of history. I'm Arisha Skidmore-Williams. And I'm Brooks Zifferin. We've been telling the stories of The Rich and Famous on the hit Wondery show, Even the Rich, and talking about the latest celebrity news on Rich and Daily. We're going all over the world on our new show, Even the Royals. We'll be diving headfirst into the lives of the world's Kings, Queens, and all the want tobes in their orbit throughout history. Think succession meets the Crown meets real life. We're going to pull back the gilded curtain and show how royal status might be bright and shiny, but it comes at the expense of, well, everything else, like your freedom, your privacy, and sometimes even your head.

Follow Even the Royals on the WNDY app or wherever you get your podcasts. You can listen to Even the Royals early and ad-free right now by joining WNDRINDY Plus.