Reggie wrote his EAST END STORIES in the early 1990s, but they haven't seen the light of day until now. In the book, he recalls the close-knit East End community in which he and his brother grew up, the characters in his family and neighbourhood, and of course, the many villains he worked with. Filled with anecdotes about the area’s most outlandish personalities and notorious criminals, and offering a fascinating journey around the Krays’ ‘manor’ including their favourite haunts and business enterprises, the book paints a vivid portrait of a London that has long since disappeared.

    Once the old, cantankerous Sam Clevenger and his wife, Charlotte, hired Frank Willson and John Johnson to help with the move, their fate took a dark turn. These true events were documented by journalists through the 1887 trial and well into the 1900s, and stories have been told of Sam’s unfound treasure for nearly 130 years. But, this is the first detailed, documented, and vetted account of their bizarre and fascinating tale.

    I was lost ... Pat Quirke tried to come in and control everything' Bobby Ryan's disappearance in rural Tipperary in June 2011 mystified all who knew him. The truck-driver and part-time DJ (known as Mr Moonlight) was an easy-going fellow with no enemies. Or so everyone thought.When Ryan's body was found 22 months later on the farm of Mary Lowry, the wealthy young widow he had been seeing, it was clear that he had met a violent end.And the most likely person to have brought about that end? Pat Quirke, the man who had 'discovered' the body - Mary Lowry's brother-in-law, financial advisor, tenant and one-time lover.Following the longest running murder trial in Irish criminal history Quirke was convicted of murder in May 2019. Getting to that day had taken years of exhaustive work by gardaí. The Murder of Mr Moonlight is the definitive account of their investigation as well as the compelling story of how an innocent man paid the price for another man's obsessions.Catherine Fegan, Irish Journalist of the Year (2017), and Chief Correspondent at the Irish Daily Mail, covered every day of Quirke's trial. Over many months she also conducted interviews in Tipperary and further afield. She has written an extraordinary insightful and meticulous account of the case that gripped the nation. '[An] excellent book that shows all the colours of the story that intrigued the nation' Irish Daily Mail 'Well-researched and highly readable ... Fegan proves her journalistic mettle, delivering forensic detail in accessible language ... Anyone who followed the trial will not be disappointed by Fegan's book' Sunday Business Post 'Absolutely compulsive reading (as I know because my wife wouldn't let me anywhere near it - but I did get it in the end!) ... a page-turner' Eamon Dunphy, The Stand

    These are stories about how some New Zealanders go missing - the wrong person in the wrong place at the wrong time.

    Names like Bundy, Gacy, and Gein come to mind, alongside the many other murderous people out there who've gained notoriety because of their evil. When you're envisioning the unthinkable and heinous acts that are carried out in this world, it's unlikely you imagine a youngster as being a perpetrator of evil.Killer children, although rare, do exist. The thought alone is terrifying; we see children as being vulnerable and pure, which makes it harder to comprehend them wanting to inflict pain and suffering on another being. The correlation of a child and unthinkable acts of murder is undeniably tricky to compute.The children in this book carried out acts of savage murder - even just typing that sentence feels wrong. Some of these murders are sexually motivated; some are carried out for revenge; others are part of an occult ritual. Regardless of the motivation for these children to commit unspeakable acts of cruelty, they are all disturbing.This book was written to give you some food for thought, to allow you to digest some of the heinous crimes committed by youngsters and consider why they'd carry out such horrific acts. This book will open up a world of questions, many of which I've likely pondered upon myself. While I do offer up my own opinion throughout this book, I do need to (as much as possible) stick to the facts to let you make your own mind up.With that in mind, let's delve into some of the despicably horrific murders that were carried out by children.

    This is one of them. Seven-year-old Samantha Zaldivar is reported missing in February 1997. Despite the best efforts of the community and law enforcement to find her, it seems the first grader has disappeared without a trace until the forensic evidence leads a multi-agency task force to an ugly possibility. Months later, an unlikely turn of events reveals the young girl’s fate, which rocks the rural county in Western New York. Dedicated and meticulous police work brings a murderer to justice, but not without a cost to those involved. Stephen C. Tarbell, a retired Wyoming County Sheriff’s investigator shares his personal account of the investigation into the disappearance and murder of Samantha Zaldivar.

    In September 1970, two boys met in the playground on their first day at secondary school in North London. They formed what would be described at the Old Bailey thirty years later as ‘a unique and wicked bond’. Between 1982 and 1986, striking near lonely railway stations in London and the Home Counties, their partnership took them from rape to murder. Three police forces pooled their resources to catch them in the biggest criminal manhunt since the Yorkshire Ripper Enquiry.A Dangerous Place is the first full-length account of the crimes of John Duffy and David Mulcahy. Told by the son of one of the police officers who led the enquiry, exhaustively researched and with unprecedented access, this is the story of two of the most notorious serial killers of the twentieth century and the times they operated in. It is the story of the women who died at their hands. It is the story of the women who survived them, and who had the courage to ensure justice was done. And it is the story of a father, told by a son.

    We are then forced to re-live the moments we have spent decades burying beneath amicable smiles and a false sense of security. This is my story; one shrouded in as much truth as my mind can tolerate. My story may mean nothing to you, but I believe, that if these words were to fall into the right hands, then they could have the potential to change someone’s life, someone’s mind. At a young age I learned what it meant to carry the scorching secrets of a fiery hell. For years I allowed the flames to consume my mind as I proceeded to live a life devoted to destruction and chaos. I blamed my mother. I blamed the men that raped me. I blamed the woman that refused to love me back. But when the smoke cleared, the mirror on the wall only painted a single reflection, that of myself. So, when the big bad wolf no longer blows, yet the house still falls, who will I have to blame then? Only me.

    But he becomes increasingly haunted by childhood ghosts and by the ever-growing influence of Danny, his psychopathic partner in crime. Billy finds himself starting to look beyond the violence and the scams, slowly descending into a drug-fuelled netherworld that affects his judgment and his perceptions. He is finally tipped over the edge when Danny commits an act even Billy cannot stomach. And that's when things really start to go wrong. This explosive first novel from a reformed career criminal comes with authenticity stamped throughout.

    Initially known as the 'Enron guy', Mulgrew attempts to survive the prison gang culture and preserve his own sanity. Driven by his desire to return to his son in England, he is increasingly haunted by the heart-breaking disappearance of his daughter. Meanwhile the dangers around him grow ever closer.Told with wit and humanity, GANG OF ONE, reveals a man constantly confronted by the moral and physical challenges of prison life in America, where evryone is encouraged to turn their back and 'see nuthin'

    A crime so shocking that it has often been described as a defining moment in this country's history.After 50 years of intense police investigation the whereabouts of Jane (9), Arnna (7) and Grant Beaumont (4) is still a mystery; Australia's most famous unsolved crime.On the morning of January 26, 1966 the three children set off from their Somerton Park home to Glenelg Beach on a bus to enjoy a brief excursion at Adelaide's most popular beach only a few kilometres away. Apart from a brief sighting from the Beaumont family's postman early on that afternoon, there have been no other sightings of the children since.The 'mystery' of the children's disappearance has often overshadowed the 'misery' the Beaumont parents have had to endure. This book takes the reader inside the trauma of Nancy and Grant; from the panic and heartbreaking first few days to the utter despair in later years.Only seven years after the Beaumont disappearance, two girls Joanne Ratcliffe (11) and Kirste Gordon (4) were abducted from Adelaide Oval during a football match. Were the two abductions connected? How could they not be connected?Author Michael Madigan delves into the sordid world of the numerous 'persons of interest' who have at times been suspects in this case and forensically answers the question 'who could do such a thing?'

    This book was not “inspired by actual events,” or “based on a true story,” this is a true story. The pain, tears, soul-shattering grief and amazing triumph are all real. From the years of horrific abuse, through my pain-filled teens and twenties, this book details my thirst for vengeance and the final, miraculous event that changed my life. It is a raw, no holds barred, look at a life filled with tragedy and the demons spawned by a mother’s evil. From the terrible secrets we were forced to keep, to the bodies piling up, my quest to kill the demons of my youth took me down a path I barely survived. This book is the tale of that journey. I’ve bared my soul about all the years spent in darkness and the painful tragedies that fueled my grief. My brother and surviving sisters told me that no one would believe what had happened in that house. They questioned what good could come from unleashing the ghosts of our pasts. This book may shock you, but that is not its purpose. The purpose of this book is to hopefully, inspire you to realize that hope exists even in the most bitter despair. It is both a journey into darkness and a testament to the incredible power of the human soul.

    Why did she get acquitted? Why did the jurors see George as a suspect? Why did they think she was a good mother? And how on God's green earth did they miss the suffocation search? There are surprisingly good answers for all of these questions. I argue in this book that not only did the prosecution hide evidence from the jury, but that the evidence points to Casey being factually innocent as well. Regardless of whether you agree with my viewpoint, I guarantee you'll learn something you didn't know before about this infamous case.

    His friend Graham Bartlett was a long-serving detective in the city once described as Britain's 'crime capital'. Together, in Death Comes Knocking, they have written a gripping account of the city's most challenging cases, taking the reader from crime scenes and incident rooms to the morgue, and introducing some of the real-life detectives who inspired Peter James's characters. Whether it's the murder of a dodgy nightclub owner and his family in Sussex's worst non-terrorist mass murder or the race to find the abductor of a young girl, tracking down the antique trade's most notorious 'knocker boys' or nailing an audacious ring of forgers, hunting for a cold-blooded killer who executed a surfer or catching a pair who kidnapped a businessman, leaving him severely beaten, to die on a hillside, the authors skilfully evoke the dangerous inside story of policing, the personal toll it takes and the dedication of those who risk their lives to keep the public safe.

     As a child, I was known as "Jessica Pelley." When I was nine, I went to a sleepover at a friend's house for the weekend. While I was away, my entire family was murdered. I would spend the next 30 years fighting, crawling, and clawing my way through the darkness. This wasn't just a national news headline, a cold case, or a true crime show. It was my family. And my life. I was the broken little girl left behind to tell this story. I am now "Jessi," in the pages of this unapologetic memoir, set free. *** JESSI - APRIL 29, 2016 April 29, 1989. A date I cannot forget. Numbers forever seared deep into my soul. It was 27 years ago, today. Jesus. Get a grip, Jessi. They’re just numbers. They don’t mean anything. You’re giving them power over you, again. That’s what I tell myself. But the numbers—those damn numbers—they haunt me. They always will. I cannot escape them. Not now. Not ever. For most people, dates are just numbers on a calendar. No big deal. Random markers of time affixed to the top left corner of small, white squares on a page to depict days filled with choices, chances, and opportunities. At least that’s what they are for the normal people. But I’m no longer one of them. For me, they serve as numeric reminders of the girl I used to be. A tragedy that would irrevocably and mercilessly alter the life of a little girl wearing dark blue jeans, canvas lace-up sneakers, and a white tee shirt, accessorized by prominent coke bottle glasses, her hair hanging in a messy bob. Her life would be forever dismantled. Gone. The moment they told me the words. The ones that I will never forget. At that moment, my life froze and shattered into pieces, splintering like bits of broken glass, dropping down onto the ground around me, like the remnants of a cracked windshield, falling fast before the spinning mind and broken heart of a wide-eyed little girl. Life, as I knew it, was over in that moment. What happened on April 29, 1989, has scarred me forever. A day that started out normally, before it became ensnared in marred memories, tucked between folds of tragedy and darkness. The lingering memories cut straight to the core of the hollow girl left behind. The darkness delivers itself to me, every year, on schedule. Steadily. Greedily. On the 29th day of April. Relentless. Haunting. It taunts the pieces of me that remain. Every single year. I try to lift myself out of the darkness. I tell myself the numbers shouldn’t matter. Not after 27 years have passed. Jessi, It’s just another day. You can do anything you want with it. Don’t slip into the darkness. But not even the voice in my head believes those lies I tell myself. Year after year, my happiness recoils, my thoughts run to a dark place filled with foggy memories and a void that swallows me whole. The door of despair opens and I’m trapped: alone, numb to the bone, emotionally deplete, void of all reality, space, and time. I hate the helplessness as I slip further into that dark place. A place that, long ago, was filled with light. A place where three little girls would sing happy songs, pick flowers, hold hands while skipping through tall blades of grass, and sit down at the dining room table, where they would bow their heads to pray before plates filled with food, in a home filled with laughter. Then it hits me—the life-defining, self-inflicted images of horror—of their final moments—dragging me deep into the darkness.