getting away with murder
Book rec post! Because it occurs to me that I haven't done one in ages, and also a friend was recently asking me about serial killer books, which reminded me of book recommending in general. (After denying that I read many serial killer books, I examined my shelves and discovered that I actually read a shit-ton of them, which, slightly disturbing. To say nothing of the stacks of books on similar topics. I DON'T EVEN.)
So these are recs for books about forensic detection, and how to evade same. On the off-chance that that information might be useful to you one day.
The Poisoner's Handbook, by Deborah Blum
Okay, obviously you're expecting this to be awesome based on the title alone, but I had NO IDEA how awesome. <3 It's about poisoners and the people who tried to catch them in 1920s New York. 1920s New York was an insane place. (Which is not to say that NY isn't insane now, because it totally, totally is, but there are levels, you know? Like, at least no one is dumping uranium in swimming pools these days.) This was when cars really became a thing, this was when forensic science in the U.S. finally started to catch up with Europe, and this was when the whole Prohibition clusterfuck happened.
"By the end of February, nearly one hundred residents of New York were dead, killed by redistilled industrial alcohols. Brooklyn district attorney John Ruston said that the poisoned alcohol came from steamers, from rum runners in smaller boats, and as always from Brooklyn, that well-known home of creative alcohol reengineering."
(God bless you, Brooklyn. Never change.)
The U.S. was so far behind Europe in forensic science partly because, up until 1918, the office of coroner was an elected position with no qualifications necessary. The coroner might be a doctor, but he might also be a postman or a baker or an accountant. And if someone paid him to sign off claiming that a guy who'd been stabbed fifteen times in the back was a suicide, hey, he'd probably go for it.
In 1918, the state of New York officially decided they'd had enough of that crap, and forced the Tammany Hall mayor to appoint an actual doctor to be the coroner/medical examiner. The mayor picked Charles Norris in a fit of political spite that backfired spectacularly on him, because as soon as Norris was appointed, he was like, "THE REVOLUTION BEGINS NOW." He was brilliant and persistent and mean as a snake, and by the time he died, everyone respected the hell out of the New York medical examiner's office.
So this book has given me yet another unhealthy crush on a dead person. It's also chock full of fun facts. Did you know silver isn't that bad for you, as heavy metals that accumulate in the body go? It isn't. Also, if you drink silver nitrate, you turn blue. Seriously, your tongue, the whites of your eyes, your internal organs--blue.
Still trying to talk myself down from trying that. I imagine it would be expensive.
Murder 2: The Second Casebook of Forensic Detection, by Colin Evans
A nice complement to The Poisoner's Handbook, this is a much more international and comprehensive history of forensics, going all the way from the 1200s to 2004. There's also a volume 1, but I haven't managed to get my hands on it, sigh. This one, though, is more up-to-date, so probably more useful. I mean, useful if you're using it as a how-to guide for getting away with murder, which is not what it was intended to be, but pretty much what it is.
The book is divided up into case overviews, biographies of famous contributors to forensics (including Charles Norris, yay!), and short introductions to things like blood-spatter analysis, autopsies, determining time of death, etc. The author clearly wrote it as an ode to the awesomeness of pioneers in crime detection.
He also inadvertently created a detailed account of what the police can and cannot figure out from a crime scene (accurate up to 2004). UNINTENDED CONSEQUENCES. You kind of want to pat him on the head and take away his computer before he hurts himself.
But yes, this book will answer all your pesky questions about rigor mortis and forensic entomology and how to burn down a building without getting caught. You're welcome.
Beat the Reaper, by Josh Bazell
According to a friend who went to a reading by the author, this story is the result of someone (editor? can't remember) complaining that said author wrote too much weird shit, and suggesting that he go more mainstream. Josh Bazell responded to that suggestion with this book, which is basically the written equivalent of spray painting YOU DON'T OWN ME on the side of the editor's house and then throwing a brick through their bedroom window.
It is the story of a hit man who informed on his mafia bosses and then went into witness protection. And became a doctor. Or, well, at the time of the story he's still an intern. He knows a lot about practical anatomy, I guess.
The most terrifying thing about this story, though, is not the mafia, the assassins, or even the freaking sharks (yes, sharks). The most terrifying thing is the hospital in which the main character, Peter, works. HOLY SHIT. The author was once a medical intern himself, so, tragically, he knows what he's talking about.
"I should say here that being chronically sleep-deprived is so demonstrably similar to being drunk that hospitals often feel like giant, ceaseless office Christmas parties. Except that at a Christmas party the schmuck standing next to you isn't about to fillet your pancreas with something called a 'hot knife.'"
Just think about that the next time you find yourself in an American ER.
The book gets included in this list despite being fictional because it has an unusually high number of practical-application suggestions for homicide. Most authors try to, you know, leave out relevant steps of the process so as not to encourage anyone, but Bazell, remember: spray paint, bricks through the windows, it's a whole thing.
"I have a Rambo moment in which I consider yanking a Purell alcohol hand gel dispenser off the wall and using it as napalm, but then decide that burning down a hospital filled with patients kind of crosses the line."
At least Peter is a model of restraint.