A police force that large is going to have more than a few colorful characters and unbelievable stories. Retired NYPD Detective Vic Ferrari takes you behind the scenes as he peels back the onion, revealing the good, the bad, and the ugly of the New York City Police Department. The NYPD's Flying Circus picks up where NYPD: Through the Looking Glass left off in this controversial tell-all sequel. The NYPD’s Flying Circus is an introspective, behind-the-scenes look into the New York City Police Department. Cops, crime and chaos are sarcastically woven together through the eyes of a retired NYPD detective, exposing the funnier side of the NYPD—a fascinating history lesson wrapped in personal anecdotes covering a twenty-year law enforcement career. If you enjoy Live PD, are fascinated with police work, or ever wondered what it was like to be a member of the NYPD, you’ve picked up the right book.

    Yet they are engaging and fascinating at the same time.We all had evil thoughts throughout our lives. What is it that makes us different from those who actually act upon it? Is it the act alone? These are questions that many ask themselves, and these stories will help dig into the elements and psychology behind some of the most terrifying killers in history.This collection includes four true crime books, volumes 1-4, and each is filled with a variety of murder cases, from spree killers to massacres to even cannibals. You will explore the background, the act, and the aftermath of their violent acts. Some pages will be painful to read, due to the detailed description of the violent acts and the emotions behind them.

    After a decades-long investigation that featured an amazing array of twists and turns, including a sensational trial and a controversial verdict, the case remains unsolved. To this day Muriel's murder is considered "the most bizarre and confusing case in the annuals of Eastern Kentucky crime."

    The murders were similar enough that police considered them the result of one person and believed them to be the work of a serial killer. But as quickly as the murders began, the killings seemed to end. Detectives suspected the Spokane River Killer was either dead, incarcerated or had moved out of the area. Six years later, the bodies of murdered women once again began turning up all around the Spokane area. In 1999, Robert Lee Yates was arrested and police hoped they had finally found their killer. In 2000, he plead guilty to killing 11 women from the Spokane area between 1996 and 1998. During the investigation however, Yates was ruled out as a suspect in the 1990 slayings. DNA recovered from underneath the fingernails of the third victim was eventually identified as being from a man. But no match could be found. Their man was still on the loose. In 2009, DNA from a federal inmate was matched to the DNA recovered from underneath the fingernails of the third victim. The inmates fingerprint was also matched to a print recovered from a bottle of vaginal lubricant found in a dumpster along with the second victim’s discarded belongings. Police finally believed they had their man. But did they? The DNA match belonged to a female inmate.

    The slaughter of Joan and John Stirland revealed an evil empire of powerful ganglords, contract killings and police corruption. At its dark heart was the East Midlands city of Nottingham. A prosperous centre of business, education and leisure, Nottingham had fallen under the shadow of vicious gangsters. Eventually its police were investigating so many murders that their boss had to appeal to other forces for help, and the influx of drugs and weapons saw the city labelled "Gun Capital UK".HOODS traces the roots of the gangs, revealing how economic dislocation and the clash of cultures between working-class white residents and black immigrants from the 1950s onwards created an alienated underclass. In the 1990s, a more malignant breed of organised criminal emerged. Crime families who had been involved in armed robbery, protection rackets and extortion now sought to control the recreational drugs trade and forged links across Europe to import wholesale quantities of cocaine, ecstasy and amphetamines. By 2002, shootings were running at one a week. HOODS uncovers how outlaw Yardies pioneered the sale of crack cocaine and imported the ruthless violence of the Jamaican ghettos; how young black gangs from the so-called NG Triangle of the Meadows, St Ann’s and Radford areas clashed in a series of turf wars; how the shadowy Dawes Cartel built a lucrative international drugs empire; and how the Bestwood Cartel and its terrifying leader, Colin Gunn, corrupted police officers and left dead and maimed in its wake. As local police struggled to cope with the mayhem, MI5 and the National Crime Squad launched a massive undercover investigation into the Nottingham ‘untouchables’. It led ultimately to the dismantling of some of the UK’s most powerful crime networks. HOODS is a stark account of what happens when the rule of the gun supplants the rule of law and fear stalks the streets.

    The secret, though, that surrounded my parents’ unhappy life together, was divulged to me by accident . . .’ Hidden under some papers in his father’s bureau, the sixteen-year-old Derek Malcolm finds a book by the famous criminologist Edgar Lustgarten called The Judges and the Damned. Browsing through the Contents pages Derek reads, ‘Mr Justice McCardie tries Lieutenant Malcolm – page 33.’ But there is no page 33. The whole chapter has been ripped out of the book. Slowly but surely, the shocking truth emerges: that Derek’s father, shot his wife’s lover and was acquitted at a famous trial at the Old Bailey. The trial was unique in British legal history as the first case of a crime passionel, where a guilty man is set free, on the grounds of self-defence. Husband and wife lived together unhappily ever after, raising Derek in their wake. Then, in a dramatic twist, following his father’s death, Derek receives an open postcard from his Aunt Phyllis, informing him that his real father is the Italian Ambassador to London . . . By turns laconic and affectionate, Derek Malcolm has written a richly evocative memoir of a family sinking into hopeless disrepair. Derek Malcolm was chief film critic of the Guardian for thirty years and still writes for the paper. Educated at Eton and Merton College, Oxford, he became first a steeplechase rider and then an actor after leaving university. He worked as a journalist in the sixties, first in Cheltenham and then with the Guardian where he was a features sub-editor and writer, racing correspondent and finally film critic. He directed the London Film Festival for a spell in the 80s and is now President of both the International Film Critics Association and the British Federation of Film Societies. He lives with his wife Sarah Gristwood in London and Kent and has published two books – one on Robert Mitchum and another on his favourite 100 films. He is a frequent broadcaster on radio and television and a veteran of film festival juries all over the world.

    

     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.

     On March 4th, 1995, a New Orleans police officer shot a fellow off-duty cop and two innocent bystanders at a Vietnamese restaurant. She then responded to their call for help, as though she knew nothing of what had transpired. This is the story of her rise through the corrupted ranks, her crime, and her capture.

    Drews unfolds the drama brilliantly, right through to the sentencing of the husband to a life in prison and even an afterword from the mistress apologizing years later. Sent to prison, the husband and mistress still can't let go and she becomes a prison bride.Readers are left to decide for themselves if it was murder, suicide, or manslaughter by neglect. Run at Destruction is lust, murder, and obsession delivered with the beat of a runner's heart, as the theme of running is woven throughout. The book grabs at a large cross-section of readers because everyone can relate to the desire and often disaster that comes with affairs.This is true-crime court drama and author Drews exposes the characters to such a depth that readers will feel like they are reading a novel, only, this really happened.

    We also know the original lead investigator, Goncalo Amaral’s, counter-narrative, now a legally defensible matter of public record. The questions that arise from these opposing narratives are dead simple: Which narrative is more credible? Which narrator is more credible? What was the motive behind all the publicity? Neither Madeleine nor her abductor ultimately benefited from the ongoing media barrage, so who did? True crime maestro, Nick van der Leek, plumbs quagmires of confusion and a thicket of thorny inconsistencies to probe what lies beneath: the psychologies. What is the significance of "doctors" as suspects? Did it matter or mean anything that the McCanns and their cabal of friends in the Algarve were mostly doctors? Peeling away the gossamer threads, over the course of just four days [April 29th – May 2nd], van der Leek intuits that very little was routine: not the weather, not where meals were eaten, not where or when they slept and not what they did as a family. But what were their routines when it came to other, murkier things, like sleeping patterns, cell phones and sedatives? Drawing intangibles out of the darkness, van der Leek sews the vexing loose ends from several conflicting stories into a definite - if not definitive - end-result.

    She is the girl with the blue tattoo.The story behind the distinctive tattoo is the stuff of legends. Some believed it was placed on her face during her captivity, following the brutal murders of her family members and the kidnapping of her and her sister. Others believe it was placed on her after her return.Rumors swelled. Her tattoo became a symbol of Native barbarianism and the triumph of American goodness, but like many stories of that era, the truth is far more complicated.This short book details the murders, her captivity, the aftermath, and her baffling return to her captors. Unravel the mystery of the woman who would become famous for all the wrong reasons and discover what her life story says about cultural identity, the power of resiliency, and what happens when fact and fiction bend and twist to muddy the waters.Read on to find out the truth!

    Because I would never, ever know peace again.' Charlene Downes was 14 when she went missing in Blackpool's seedy underbelly. Once a happy-go-lucky schoolgirl, she had become a truant - hanging out with the wrong crowd by the takeaway shops and pier. But Charlene's mum, Karen, always knew her typical teenage daughter would come home.Until one day she didn't.Karen has been searching for 15 years, campaigning for the truth of what happened to her daughter. To this day, Karen and her family have no body, no convictions and no answers. Arrests were made and a murder trial took place, but no one has ever been brought to justice.On the 15th anniversary of Charlene's disappearance, Karen shares this heartbreaking account of every parent's worst nightmare.

    The ancient Greeks initiated the name “parricide” for the murder of a parent. Thankfully the crime of parricide is a fairly rare occurrence, but no matter how rare, parricide remains one of the most profound of all taboos in all societies. It directly contravenes a universal cultural and religious principle that children must honor their parents. To murder ones parents is the most definitive act of rebellion against society's rules and order. Every human family is a unique and complex unit. It operates and malfunctions in its own distinctive way. As a result, families can create a rich assortment of murderous motives.Seriously abused children murder their abusive parent to put a stop to the abuse. Seriously antisocial children murder their parent in order to advance their own ambitions. In these cases, the parent is a hindrance in their desire to achieving what they crave. These individuals, for instance, might murder to continue to have a relationship with a person of whom the parents disapprove, may murder to have more freedom, or to become heir to money they believe is sooner or later going to be theirs. Seriously mentally ill kids murder the parent basically as a consequence of their mental illness. Commonly made diagnoses consist of severe depression and psychosis. This book has 10 horrific true crime stories of children killing their parent(s). All of the cases profiled in this book are tragedies.This is book # 8 in the Murder In The Family Series by Sylvia Perrini, and we invite you to read this one as well as the other true crime murder stories in this series and in her other True Crime Stories series.

    Max 'Vision' Butler was a white-hat hacker and a celebrity throughout the programming world, even serving as a consultant to the FBI. But there was another side to Max. As the black-hat 'Iceman', he'd seen the fraudsters around him squabble, their ranks riddled with infiltrators, their methods inefficient, and in their dysfunction was the ultimate challenge: he would stage a coup and steal their ill-gotten gains from right under their noses.Through the story of Max Butler's remarkable rise, KINGPIN lays bare the workings of a silent crime wave affecting millions worldwide. It exposes vast online-fraud supermarkets stocked with credit card numbers, counterfeit cheques, hacked bank accounts and fake passports. Thanks to Kevin Poulsen's remarkable access to both cops and criminals, we step inside the quiet,desperate battle that law enforcement fights against these scammers. And learn that the boy next door may not be all he seems.