• Fearsome Fiction Podcast,  NEW,  TRUE CRIME TUESDAYS

    True Crime Tuesdays – A Fearsome Fiction Feature: Shot By a Killer Clown

    True Crime Tuesdays — A Fearsome Fiction Feature: Shot by a Killer Clown

    It was Memorial Day weekend, 1990, in Wellington, Florida. Marlene Warren answered her front door to find a clown holding flowers and balloons — and was shot in the face at point-blank range. The clown got back in the car and drove away. Marlene died two days later.

    The case had a suspect almost immediately. It had circumstantial evidence. It had motive. What it didn’t have — for twenty-seven years — was enough to make an arrest. This week on True Crime Tuesdays, we follow one of the most bizarre cold cases in American history from a quiet Florida neighborhood in 1990 all the way to a courthouse in 2023, and a prison release that left a victim’s family without the justice they deserved.

    Fearsome Fiction is produced by MadeMark Media. New episodes every Tuesday.

  • Fearsome Fiction Podcast,  NEW,  TRUE CRIME TUESDAYS

    True Crime Tuesdays – A Fearsome Fiction Feature: The Black Dahlia

    True Crime Tuesdays – A Fearsome Fiction Podcast Feature: The Black Dahlia

    Welcome to True Crime Tuesdays. I’ll be sharing a true crime story every Tuesday on Mark McNease’s Fearsome Fiction Podcast. Narration is provided by my own Wondervox. Fasten your headphones for one of the most famous unsolved murders in the annals of American crime – or is it American madness?

    They found her on the morning of January 15th, 1947.

    A woman walking with her daughter through a vacant lot in the Leimert Park neighborhood of Los Angeles. She thought at first that what she was seeing was a discarded department store mannequin. A broken one, in two pieces.

    It wasn’t a mannequin.

    The body had been completely severed at the waist. Drained of blood. Cleaned. Posed with a precision that suggested not rage — but ritual. Her face had been slashed at the corners of the mouth, cutting what investigators would describe as a grotesque grin from ear to ear.

    She was twenty-two years old. Her name was Elizabeth Short.

    The press would call her the Black Dahlia — a name she never knew in life, but one that would outlast everything else about her.