 adds her to during the podcast that are not in my voice or placed by third-party agencies outside of my control and should not imply an endorsement by Weird Darkness or myself. Stories and content in Weird Darkness can be disturbing for some listeners and is intended for mature audiences only. Parental discretion is strongly advised. Welcome Weirdos, I'm Darren Marlar and this is Weird Darkness. Here you'll find stories of the paranormal, supernatural, legends, lore, crime, conspiracy, mysterious, macabre, unsolved and unexplained. If you're new here, welcome to the show and if you're already a member of this Weirdo family, please take a moment and invite someone else to listen. Recommending Weird Darkness to others helps make it possible for me to keep doing the show. And while you're listening, be sure to check out WeirdDarkness.com where you can find me on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and more, along with the Weird Darkness Weirdos Facebook group. Coming up in this episode… A witch ends up in court, not as the defendant, but as the plaintiff. As you may have heard, nothing sells like sex and death. A Louisville brothel combined the two when someone dropped dead from poisoning and the media absolutely loved it. While outjogging, Sherry Papini inexplicably disappeared. 22 days later, she returned home with a story so incredible it was hard to believe. In fact, some people still don't believe her after all these years. And when groups of sinister drones began hovering over homes in America's Midwest, the FBI, the U.S. Air Force, and 16 police forces set up a task force, but then the drones vanished. And some wonder if the drones ever existed at all. Now, bolt your doors, lock your windows, turn off your lights, and come with me into the Weird Darkness. Seidville is a quaint farming village in Normandy, France, near the only slightly larger town of Ureville, part of the Siena and Furia region, 35 miles from Habra and 80 miles northwest of Paris. Seidville has always been a sleepy little hamlet, but in the winter of 1851 it was at the center of a curious defamation trial involving accusations of sorcery and the predations of an inconsiderate yet musically talented poltergeist. This was a rare instance where the accused witch was the plaintiff and the priest was the defendant, and ultimately everything got blamed on an angry ghost. Father Gene Tennell was the curate of Seidville, a parish priest entrusted with the souls of the good people of the town, and sadly beginning in November 1850 he found his parsonage beset by a disturbance of inexplicable character centering on two young pupils in his household, Gustave Lemonnier, age 12, and Bunel, age 14. Gustave and Bunel were known to be of amiable dispositions, the sons of respectable parents who had entrusted Tennell with preparing the youths for entry into the priesthood. Beginning in late November 1850, usually in whatever room the boys were in, strange rapping sounds were heard and objects flew about of their own accord. Gustave Lemonnier, the younger of the pupils, age 12, said that raps began when he was alone on November 26th and continued. He saw knives, blacking brushes, a roasting spit, and Tennell's breviary leave their places and go through the window panes. All sorts of objects flew about. He was struck in the face by a shoe, a candlestick, and by a black hand which afterward disappeared up the chimney. A sort of human shape dressed in a blouse which appeared to be a spectre followed him for a whole fortnight. We learn from other witnesses that the child said that this spectre was only 15 inches high. Once an invisible force pulled in by the leg, his comrades sprinkled some holy water and the force let go. Then a child's voice was heard crying, pardon mercy. Notwithstanding, all these disquieting events he did not ask to be allowed to go home. Obviously such spectral shenanigans were a bit disconcerting, but young Gustave and Bunel were priests in training, so it seems like they recognized that one of the job requirements was doing battle with evil spirits. Now, poltergeists have been known to land people in the Looney Bin, or hospital, but rarely do they wind up in a courtroom. Legal trouble started when Gustave reported that the phantom in the blouse bore a remarkable resemblance to a shepherd Swain. Swain being a generic term for a country youth, which is a little bit odd since the rel was aged 40 at the time, from a nearby town named Felix Thoril, to whom Tunel had introduced the boys. Bunel reported that his compatriot Gustave had a nervous attack and lost consciousness immediately after meeting Thorell, making the apparent similarity of the apparition even more suspicious. To make matters worse, rumors had it that Thorell had boasted of his powers as a sorcerer. This was enough to convince father Tunel that something was awry at the Circle K. He accused Thoril of producing the bizarre phenomena in his parsonage and tormenting his two pupils. By Tunel's account, Thoril promptly knelt and begged his and the boys pardon, but Tunel was not feeling particularly charitable. Priests don't dig the sorcery thing. Tunel demanded that Thorell's employer, unsurprisingly named Mr. Payne, dismiss the shepherd. Not entirely satisfied that Thorell had been thoroughly reprimanded, Tunel beat him with a stick to the effusion of blood. Poor Thorell was now accused of sorcerous nefariousness, bloody and unemployed. This was mid-19th century France, so they weren't burning witches anymore and the occasional beating of the underclass was nothing to ride home about. What you really didn't want was to be unemployed and indigent in Normandy. Thereupon, Thorell, having lost his place as shepherd and consequence of such suspicions, brought suit for defamation of character against the curate, laying the damages at 1200 francs. The trial was commenced before the justice of the Peace of Ureville in the 7th of January, 1851. And it was at this trial that the bizarre details of the Poltergeist's behavior were described and written down for all posterity in the records of the court, including a parade of notable and respected witnesses to the strange goings-on in the Tunel household. Tunel and his students were deposed, outlining the character of the Poltergeist activity after the initial wrappings. Quote, On Tuesday, the 26th of November, 1850, as the two children were at work in one of the rooms in the upper story of the parsonage, about five o'clock in the afternoon, they heard knockings, resembling light blows of a hammer on the wainscoting of the apartment. These knockings were continued daily throughout the week, at the same hour of the afternoon. On the next Sunday, the 1st of December, the blows commenced midday, and it was on that day that the curate first thought of addressing them. He said, Strike louder! Thereupon the blows were repeated more loudly. They continued thus all that day. On Monday, December 2, the elder of the two boys said to the knockings, Beat time under the tune of Matra Corbeau, and they immediately obeyed. The next day, Tuesday, December 3, the boy having related the above circumstance to M. Tunel, he, Tunel, being much astonished, resolved to try and said, Play us, Matra Corbeau, and the knockings obeyed. The afternoon of that day, the knockings became so loud and violent that a table in the apartment moved somewhat, and the noise was so great that one could hardly stay in the room. Later in the same afternoon, the table moved from its place three times. The curate's sister, after assuring herself that the children had not moved it, replaced it, but twice it followed her back again. The noises continued with violence all that week." Oh, and 1860 page 272. It's rare to find a poltergeist that'll take requests from your playlist, and if it wasn't for the various ghostly assaults that followed, it might have just been an intriguing novelty. Alas, poltergeists are temperamental, little critters, and the earnestness with which it made its presence known escalated. Witnesses emerged to attest to the ensuing nastiness that plagued Father Tunel's humble home. A.M. de Begnau testified to hearing particularly requested tunes beaten by the wrappings, and that he could in no way discern the origin. Another local, notable named August Hewitt, a neighbouring proprietor, along with the curate of Lindsay and another gentleman, heard similar wrappings, and were convinced the young boys could not have produced the sounds themselves. The poltergeist obligingly beat time to the tune of Eau Claire de Lelune upon request. The mayor of Sideville reported he watched as a set of fireplace tongs and a shovel flew across the room. The curate of Sausset testified that upon visiting Tunel's parsonage he saw hammers and bread moved by themselves in manners he could not explain, emphasizing that in regards to the veracity of his testimony that he would sign it with his own blood. A local aristocrat, the Marquis de Merville, having heard of the disturbances resolved to investigate them. Initially he heard scratchings and wrappings, but undaunted he resolved to experiment and describe his experience to the court. The transcripts of the testimony of the Marquis de Merville outline his findings. Quote, Last Wednesday I went to the Presbytery of Sideville and said to the cause, When you wish to reply affirmatively, rap once. When you wish to reply negatively, rap twice. Immediately a rap was heard. Then you'll be able to tell me how many letters there are in my name. Eight raps were heard, the last more distinct than the others, to make one understand that it was the last. By baptismal name now, reply, five raps. And now my forename, which figures on the register of the civil list and which no one has hitherto called me by. Immediately, seven raps, and the names of my children, first the eldest, five raps, quite correct, she is called Aline. That of the youngest, nine raps, a mistake immediately rectified for seven raps were struck, she's called Blanche. Now let us pass to my age, strike as many raps as I have years. Instantly the raps succeeded each other with such rapidity that I was obliged to stop them in order to count them, and I demanded more slowness. 48 raps were then heard very distinctly, the 48th being more accentuated than the others. That's not all. How many months do you reckon between the first of January of this year and the moment I shall be 49? Three very loud raps and one faint one followed. What does the faint one mean, probably half a month? One rap. Good, but it is not finished, how many days now between that half month and my birthday? Nine raps, the last being more accentuated. Perfectly correct, I shall be 49 on the 24th of April of this year. Let us pass on to the place of my abode, how many letters are there in its name? Eight raps, and in the name of my Commune, be careful not to make the usual mistake. Ten raps were heard. Now I live in the Commune of Gomerville, the name of which is often written with two M's, a mistake not made by the cause. It was demonstrated to me by this that I had to do with an old acquaintance, I hope not a friend. Let us pass to music. You are said to be a musician, the other day you sang the first part of Rosini's Stabat they say, since you know the first paragraph you ought to know the second part, the bass part, let me hear it. Instantly the mysterious agents slapped the rhythm of the first two bars correctly enough, but in the third committed an irregularity which slightly spoiled the rhythm. On my remarking this it began again, corrected the mistake and the passage was recognizable. Two or three more popular errors were articulated rapidly and without any mistake. The other pieces from the Italian repertoire which I demanded were perfectly unknown to it. Come, I said to it, you are a poor dilettante, now follow me if you can. I then hummed a waltz from the Ghiram Hotel. It listened at first without doing anything, then followed me exactly while I sang it, and several times during the morning when we were no longer thinking of it, it came back to the same piece and tried to execute it alone. Lang, 1904, pages 458 and 459. Personally I think the Marquis's expectation for the musical acumen of a dead guy were overly optimistic, and frankly, where I expect her, I would probably have thrown something at him for his snarky commentary, but one can only expect the merest modicum of social restraint from a 19th century French aristocrat. They were just getting over the revolution after all. Over a dozen additional witnesses were called and swore to either experiencing the musical machinations of the poltergeist, objects inexplicably flying about the parsonage, or Tenelle's angry encounter with Felix Thoril. Finally, judgment was rendered on February 15, 1851, the learned judge concluding that the extraordinary phenomena at the Presbytery of Seidville remain unknown. This is of course a rather irritating official judgment and didn't really help Thoril. As Thoril himself had reportedly taken credit for sorcerous activities that caused the poltergeist activity at Tenelle's parsonage, as well as showing contrition before witnesses onto occasions, the court concluded that the defamation suit was frivolous. Thoril was ordered to pay six francs in court costs and sent packing. Meanwhile, there was still a poltergeist to deal with. Tenelle's superiors in the church ordered the two young students to be removed and situated with another teacher, and immediately the poltergeist activity in the Tenelle parsonage ceased. There are a few lessons here. First, don't sue for libel when you've gone around singing your own praises as a powerful sorcerer. Even if you're not responsible for local occult activity, you'll probably be blamed for it. Second, music does seem to soothe the savage beasts, and unfortunately, few people have tried the musical approach of communicating with the poltergeist. Third, poltergeist activity always spirals into throwing stuff, or getting sucked into a television, or some such unsavory end. Sure, maybe it's entertainment at first, but inevitably dealing with the angry spirits involves projectiles. I'm sure there's some sort of obscure fourth lesson about not being a peasant in Normandy. There's also a lesson here for poltergeists as well, and it comes from Aristotle who said, Anybody can become angry, that's easy, but to be angry with the right person, and to the right degree, and at the right time, and for the right purpose, and in the right way, that is not within everybody's power, and is not easy. Evidently, we don't get any better at it when we're dead. When Weird Darkness returns, you may have heard Nothing Sells Like Sex. Of course, for weirdos listening to this podcast, Nothing Sells Like Death. Well then, a Louisville brothel combined the two, when somebody dropped dead there from poisoning, and the media absolutely loved it. I'm a man of habits. Okay, truth be told, my bride says I'm boring. I like the same stuff, and that's what I stick with, and that includes what I eat. Even for breakfast, I used to opt for leftover pizza, hot dogs, hamburgers. Did I mention pizza? Anyway, now that I'm trying to lose weight and cut back on the carbs, I've had to make changes for breakfast. Now, instead of a big heavy breakfast, I just grabbed one of my built bars, the best-tasting protein bar on the planet. Built bars satisfy my hunger with up to 19 grams of protein, and also satisfy my sugar craving, despite being less than 3 grams of sugar. And at only about 150 calories per bar, if I'm really hungry in the morning, I can grab two of them and still feel good about it. Try replacing your dessert, or even a meal like breakfast, with a built bar. You won't even know it's not really a candy bar. Visit WeirdDarkness.com slash Built and build a box of your own. Use the promo code WeirdDarkness at checkout and get 10% off your entire purchase. That's WeirdDarkness.com slash Built promo code WeirdDarkness. From the time the concept of mass media was invented, it's been universally acknowledged that nothing sells like sex and death. Put the two together, and you've got a sure-fire public favorite. So naturally, when people started dropping dead in a Louisville brothel, local journalists thought they themselves had died and gone straight to heaven. The establishment run by 40-year-old Emma Austin spent the night of September 8, 1892 in a quiet manner, or at least as quiet as it is in such places as brothels. Besides Mrs. Austin, the occupants were her 11-year-old son Lloyd, Austin's Laundress, Rachel Jackson, Mrs. Jackson's younger daughter Lily, and Austin's star employee, young, beautiful Eugena Sherrill. Some four or five men came to call. Mrs. Sherrill, before presumably entertaining visitors in more private fashion, played nearer my god to thee on the piano. Someone sent out for ice cream, which was enjoyed by everyone in the house, and so to bed. The next morning, young Lloyd said that he was not feeling well, but Mrs. Austin insisted he go to school anyway. She then made breakfast, batter cakes, cantaloupe, jam, and coffee. Mrs. Austin and Eugena Sherrill were the only ones to partake of the meal. The other residents would soon be thankful they had skipped breakfast. Almost immediately, the two women began feeling deathly ill, suffering from uncontrollable vomiting and diarrhea. Mrs. Johnson, who was temporarily boarding in the house, heard their cries of agony and summoned a doctor. As a side note, reporters later had a lot of fun publishing Mrs. Johnson's insistent remarks that she had no idea—no, sir, no suspicion in the world—that she was rooming in a house of ill repute. At first, the physician, Dr. Brennan, presumed the women were suffering from nothing worse than a case of severe food poisoning, an ailment sadly common in pre-refrigeration summers, and gave them the medicine appropriate for such cases. However, Austin and Sherrill continued to deteriorate, their eyes dilated, they were covered in a cold sweat, and most alarmingly of all, they had begun vomiting blood. The doctor soon realized the women had been poisoned, probably deliberately. This shocking development opened up an embarrassing can of worms for everyone involved. As I said earlier, Mrs. Johnson was left trying to explain why she a seemingly respectable lady had spent the last two weeks living in a brothel. Eugenia Sherrill's position was even more mortifying. Prostitution was merely her secret side career. Up until now, she was known to society only as a member of one of Kentucky's most prominent and respectable families. Even worse, for the past year, she had been married to Edward Sherrill, a prosperous traveling salesman. In her agony, poor Mrs. Sherrill was frantic to be brought to her home so she could die without her double life being discovered. Unfortunately, she was far too ill to be moved. Dr. Brennan was helpless to save them. Eugenia died at 12.45 p.m. Mrs. Austin's sufferings ended two hours later. As it was obvious that foul play had taken place, the coroner immediately arranged an inquest. To save time, it was held in the brothel, which may be some sort of true crime first. Because little Lloyd Austin was sick after eating the ice cream the night before, it was at first suspected that the dessert might have been poisoned. However, this theory was dismissed when it was realized that no one else felt ill after eating the ice cream. Most likely, the boy had just consumed so much of it that he gave himself indigestion. Among the inquest witnesses was Mrs. Austin's adult daughter, Nellie Cook. Mrs. Cook lived elsewhere, having, as she enigmatically put it, left my mother's house several weeks ago. When she heard of her mother's illness, she came to see her. She testified that Mrs. Austin told her that she and Mrs. Cheryl became sick right after eating breakfast. Mrs. Cook also revealed that she had done a fine job of eliminating evidence by throwing away all the remnants of the batter cakes. None of the other witnesses were able to contribute anything useful to the investigation. An autopsy was performed on Mrs. Austin. Since Mrs. Cheryl had obviously died of the same cause, it was evidently felt that it was unnecessary to perform a post-mortem on her as well. It was revealed that Mrs. Austin had died from ingesting some irritant poison, possibly arsenic. As no such substance was kept in the house, this indicated deliberate poisoning. Considering the two dead women were the only ones to eat the batter cakes, that meal was clearly what had been adulterated. Meanwhile, Edward Cheryl returned to Louisville from a business trip to be greeted by the shock of his life. It is hard to know what stunned him most, the news that his young bride had been poisoned, or the revelation that whenever he was out of town Eugenia was spending her nights in a brothel. The despairing man dashed to Mrs. Austin's house where the bodies of the two victims were on macabre public display and clasped his wife's body in his arms, wailing piteously that he refused to believe the vile stories about her. It was some 15 minutes before the hysterical Mr. Cheryl could be parted from the corpse, still crying and insisting that his beloved Jeannie had been true to him. It must have been a heart-rending thing to watch, and of course every detail was lovingly preserved in the newspapers. Mrs. Austin was quietly buried in Cave Hill Cemetery. In contrast, Eugenia's funeral in her native Meade County was one of the largest in the area's history. Hundreds attended her burial, all of them apparently drawn by an odd combination of pity and salacious curiosity. There was no question that the two women had been deliberately poisoned, but no one could agree on who did it and why. Nelly Cook suggested that Emma deliberately poisoned her food and for some unfathomable reason decided to take Mrs. Cheryl with her. Mrs. Johnson endorsed this theory. She said she found it odd that as the women were dying, Mrs. Cheryl was frantic to survive, while in contrast, Mrs. Austin seemed utterly indifferent to her fate. In addition, Mrs. Austin had recently visited the Jeffersonville Penitentiary to see her brother Sam Gore. He was serving a 10-year sentence for murder. A guard had heard her telling Gore that she would soon end her trouble. It was also noted that Emma had recently heavily insured her life, making her son the beneficiary. And why did she insist on sending Lloyd to school without breakfast, even though he wasn't feeling well? Others suggest that the victims were poisoned by one of the brothel's clients, possibly someone who had a motive to cover up his visit to the house. Two of the men who came by on the night before the poisonings spent the night, which would have made it easy for them to slip something unpleasant into the food before they left. After this theory was aired in the newspapers, it inspired half the males in town to visit the police stations, nervously denying that they had ever so much as laid eyes on Mrs. Austin's establishment, thus providing Louisville's wives with a handy guide to which of their husbands had a taste for Bordello's. No first-class murder mystery is complete without nutty, anonymous letters to the authorities, and this one was no exception. On September 12, the coroner received an unsigned letter which took the investigation into a whole new territory. Quote, Dr. Barry, that poison was intended for Vince Spanninger and Mrs. Austin. He ate his meals there, and he has been keeping a woman for 20 years. She lives at 117 West Walnut, and they all had a fight, and it has not a more than. And she said that she would kill him if she caught him in the Austin house. Enclosed, you will find some of the drug that was used. Now find out who used it, Spanninger's wife or Mrs. Cole or Nelly Cook. Nelly and her mother had the fuss about him. The only regret is that the poisoning of the innocent one. It is no secret about the way Spanninger and the Austin woman lived. All Second Street know it. Policemen Sweeney can tell you if you want to know if he will talk. Annie Myers, Betty Harper, John Snyder, Jake Dale. It is to be hoped you will find the guilty one. Quote, Vince Spanninger was a Louisville produce merchant. Mrs. Austin's brother was located directly above his store. It was far from the first time this anonymous author had written about Spanninger's doings. For Vince, peddling vegetables was merely a way to make a living. His real profession was women. His romantic history was enough to make Casanova blush. For the past 10 years or so, this same anonymous writer had been sending Spanninger's unfortunate wife, Lizzie, letters, chronicling her husband's many, many infidelities in great, and it turned out extremely accurate detail. Policeman Sweeney, whose real name was actually Feeney, was asked about the anonymous writer's claims, and he did indeed talk. He was able to confirm that Spanninger was one of the two men who had stayed overnight at Mrs. Austin's house. It also emerged that Spanninger had suggested Emma make batter cakes for breakfast, but he declined to stay to eat any of them. The plot, as they say, thickened. Spanninger's lady friend at 117 West Walnut turned out to be 40-year-old Josephine Cole. Like Mrs. Austin, Cole was a madam, but on a more modest scale. She made the bulk of her income from giving psychic readings at 50 cents a pop. She readily told reporters that, yes, indeed, she had been Vince Spanninger's mistress for the past 15 years, and further more, she had tried to keep him from marrying. By this point, Lizzie Spanninger was probably wishing Mrs. Cole had succeeded. She admitted that she had been jealous of Vince's relationship with the late Mrs. Austin and confirmed that he had been the cause of the falling out between Emma and Nelly Cook. She professed to have no idea who had written all those anonymous letters, chronicling Mr. Spanninger's every-sorted move, but she intimated that whoever had deserved a medal. When questioned about the letters, Spanninger himself denounced them as a pack of lies. He had no idea who had poisoned Mrs. Austin and Mrs. Sherrill, but he did not believe Emma had committed suicide. Nelly Cook denied that she had argued with her mother and suggested that the letter writer, whoever he or she was, must also be the murderer. The four names at the end of the anonymous letter were questioned with little success. Betty Harper, a former prostitute, claimed not to have even known Mrs. Austin, and she certainly had no idea who had poisoned her. Annie Myers said much the same. John Snyder and Jacob Deal were business partners of Spanninger's. They both claimed to share the same convenient ignorance of the fact that a house of assignation had been operating over their store. However, Deal was able to provide the interesting information that Spanninger believed that he thought all those pesky anonymous letters were written by Josephine Cole. The drug the anonymous writer had included with the letter turned out to be arsenic. Did the writer get the arsenic elsewhere or was it from the stash used as a murder weapon? On September 14, two detectives called on Josephine Cole. They thought it was time to have a nice long chat, and while there, one of them noticed that the writing on a photo of Spanninger resembled that of the anonymous tattletail. When he asked if this was her writing, Mrs. Cole realized the game was up and it was time to confess all. Yes, she had written those letters to Mrs. Spanninger. Most of them, at least. Some, she claimed, were sent by yet another of Vince's mistresses, one Maggie Faulkner. The detectives then asked the obvious follow-out question. Where did she get the arsenic included with the letter? Mrs. Cole replied that on the morning Mrs. Austin cooked her last breakfast, Spanninger came to her house in an obviously agitated state. He told her that Mrs. Austin and Mrs. Cheryl were both going to die. When he took a handkerchief out of his pocket, he failed to notice that a brown paper packet fell out. Mrs. Cole presumed it was a love letter to another woman, so she managed to hide it with her foot until he left. When she opened the packet, she realized it contained poison. Mrs. Cole explained that she would have kept Vince's little secret, if not for the fact that she subsequently learned that he had been far more than neighbors to Mrs. Austin. Although one would think the Casanova of the Producile's habits would have been old news to Mrs. Cole, she was enraged enough to send that informative letter to the coroner, along with a sample of the powder and a list of names she thought could also dish the dirt on Spanninger. She believed his motive for the murder was to get Mrs. Austin out of the way so he could spend more time with his latest Amur, Nelly Cook. As a side note, Mrs. Cole was evidently unaware that her daughter Carrie was also said to have been Sparringer's mistress. As a result of this little tale, both Spanninger and Mrs. Cole found themselves under arrest. Spanninger denied every word of Mrs. Cole's story. In fact, he was positive she was the poisoner. And what of Nelly Cook, who, thanks to Mrs. Cole, was suddenly under scrutiny? She had bitterly quarreled with her soon-to-be-deceased mother. She'd thrown away the breakfast before it could be analyzed, and she had, shall we say, a colorful past. In 1886, she married a railroad worker named Gilbert Brockman. The pair spent their brief married life getting kicked out of various residences thanks to Nelly's reputation for immorality. And then there was the time Brockman, at his wife's surging, tried to murder one of her former lovers. In 1887, Brockman suddenly fell ill and died. His smart money assumed Nelly had poisoned him, but the doctors stubbornly stated that Brockman died of natural causes. This was beginning to look like one of those Agatha Christie stories where all the characters have a motive? Usually there's a hard time finding suspects in a murder case. 1892 Louisville was just lousy with suspects. When the inquest resumed on September 16, it, like the earlier such inquiry, did little to clarify matters. Vince Spanninger denied any involvement with the crime. He claimed that he would have stayed to share the fatal breakfast if it had not been for the fact that he had important matters to attend to. When Nelly Cook was on the stand, she was asked why she threw out the breakfast leftovers, considering their obvious possible link to sudden illness of the two women. She replied that it didn't occur to her that her mother might be poisoned. She denied having any sort of romantic relationship with Spanninger. Dr. Brennan testified that Mrs. Austin's stomach had indeed contained arsenic, and so the coroner's jury delivered the inevitable verdict the two women had been poisoned by a person unknown. It was a brief trial of Spanninger and Josephine Cole, which was no more illuminating than the inquest. Everyone who had spoken at the inquest repeated their stories. Mrs. Johnson, whose real name turned out to be Lydia Anderson, had fled town to avoid testifying at the inquest, but authorities managed to haul her back to take the stand. She proved to be as unhelpful as all the other witnesses. Her testimony indicated that Nelly Cook was far from grief-stricken by her mother's untimely end and that Spanninger was in the habit of discreetly using Mrs. Austin's window rather than the staircase to enter her room. At the end of the proceedings, the judge could only sigh. We have a world of evidence without a scintilla of proof. Enough dirty laundry had been produced to fill a million washing machines, but none of it was the slightest help with establishing who had poisoned Mrs. Austin's batter cakes. Everyone involved was set free to carry on their curious lives, and this complicated little murder mystery faded from public memory. Although many people had motive for the poisoning, only two of them had an evident opportunity. No poison was found in any of the ingredients used to make the batter cakes. Thus, it was reason the arsenic had to have been added to the batter itself, and the only people known to have been in the vicinity when the batter was made were Emma Austin and Vince Spanninger. Was this a murder suicide? Did Mrs. Austin resentful of Spanninger's likely attentions to the younger, prettier Mrs. Cheryl decide to poison her rival and herself? Or did Spanninger, certainly a man with a lot to hide, have his own secret motives to be rid of the women? Or did someone else manage to sneak in to poison the batter unseen? Theorize away. While outjogging, Sherry Papini inexplicably disappeared. 22 days later, she returned home with a story so incredible it was hard to believe. In fact, some people still don't believe her after all these years. That story is up next on Weird Darkness. No matter the time of day or season, sometimes you need to find a way to rid yourself of those ghostly chills that bring raised hairs and goosebumps to your skin. Other times, you're looking for those ghostly chills. Either way, it sounds like you need a mug of Weird Dark Roast Coffee. Weird Dark Roast Coffee has deep notes of cocoa, caramel, and a touch of sinister sweetness that'll send shivers down your taste buds. This is an exclusive coffee that I selected specifically for you, my Weirdo family. Weird Dark Roast is not available in stores, coffee houses, mad scientist labs, or even the dark web, but you can find it at WeirdDarkness.com slash coffee. Weird Dark Roast Coffee, fresh roasted to order so it's as fresh as it can be when it lands on your doorstep and knocks three times. Grab yours now at WeirdDarkness.com slash coffee. That's WeirdDarkness.com slash coffee. Weird Dark Roast Coffee does not actually knock on your door because it doesn't have arms or hands, so if you hear knocks at the door and no one answers when you ask who it is, it's probably paranormal and you should just leave the door shut and locked. Sherry Papini, 34 years old, disappeared on November 2, 2016 while stout jogging a mile from her home in Reading, California. She reappeared 22 days later at 4.30 a.m. on Thanksgiving Day near the town of Mountain Gale on November 24, 2016. Sherry told the police that she had been kidnapped by two Hispanic women and a medical exam showed that she had been branded on her right shoulder, though it was unclear what the image was that had been burned into her skin. She had also lost a significant amount of weight during captivity. In the months that followed, the authorities cast some doubts on her story though, given the unlikely details and inconsistencies of the reported abduction. The story remains a mystery today as seemingly investigators still can't decide if Sherry was the victim of a kidnapping or if we are all victims of a hoax. But if it was a hoax, then what was the motive for it? If the abduction was faked, who harmed her so badly? Sherry's husband, Keith Papini, became concerned when he returned from his job at Best Buy on November 2, 2016 and did not find his wife at home. She also had not picked up the children from daycare. He used the Find My iPhone application to try and find out where she was by locating her cell phone. The app indicated her cell phone was at the intersection of Sunrise Drive and Old Oregon Trail, about a mile from their home. Keith said, I couldn't find her, so I called the daycare to see what time she picked up the kids. The kids were never picked up, so I got freaked out. I hit the Find My iPhone app thing, I found her phone, it's got like hair ripped out of it, like in the headphones. When Keith went to retrieve the phone, it was placed on the ground and with the headphones tidally wrapped around it. He contacted the authorities on the assumption that something bad had happened to Sherry. Three weeks later, in the early morning hours of November 24, Sherry was found at the side of Country Road 17 near Interstate 5 in Yolo County. The location was 150 miles or about 240 kilometers south of where she disappeared at around 15 miles north of Sacramento. According to police, despite being chained, she had managed to flag down a passing car. Sherry told police that she had been held by two Hispanic women who took steps to keep their faces hidden from her, either by wearing masks or by keeping her head covered. Sherry said the two women armed with a handgun had abducted her, beat her and held her captive in a basement before one of them finally left her on the side of the road. Sherry said the women had been driving a dark-colored SUV with a large rear-side window at the time of the kidnapping, but she was unable to give details of the make and model. She seemed to have been physically abused during her captivity. She had been branded with a threatening message. Her nose broken, her hair cut off. She also weighed only 87 pounds or 40 kilograms when she was found. Sherry's office said Sherry appeared battered and bruised. Her hair had been cut to shoulder length and she had a brand on her right shoulder. Sherry, however, stated that she had not been sexually assaulted and there is no physical evidence to indicate otherwise. The Sherry's office examined the brand on Sherry's shoulder and its possible meaning, but details remain confidential. Sketches of Sherry's alleged kidnappers were released in October 2017, 11 months after she was taken. One woman was described as being aged between 20 and 30 years old, five feet five inches tall with curly dark hair, thin eyebrows and pierced ears. The second woman was between 40 and 50 years old, about five foot seven inches tall, with long straight black hair with some gray in it, thick eyebrows and pierced ears. A medical examination of Sherry found there was male DNA on her person, but no other female DNA, seemingly at odds with her claim that two Mexican women abducted her. This male DNA was not her husband's and Keith Papini volunteered for a polygraph in the past. Then a man called the Shasta County Sheriff's Office a few months after the alleged abduction, claiming that Sherry was with him for the entire 22 days when she was supposedly held captive by the Hispanic women, but this lead went nowhere. Still, it helped to see doubts in the Sheriff's Office. The authorities were skeptical from the start about the abduction even before she was found alive. They spent days focused almost entirely on an exchange on the Papini's computer that suggested she might have been involved with a man that she met online. Police found Sherry had been texting a man before her disappearance and they tracked down the man in Detroit, Michigan on November 9th, a week after she disappeared. But the man was ruled out as a suspect in her disappearance and the Shasta County Sheriff's Department refused to give further details. Sherry also appeared to have a troubled past. When she was 18 years old, her sister accused her of kicking in the back door of the family's Shasta Lake home. The same day, her parents, Richard and Loretta Graf, called the police to report the incident as vandalism and claimed that she had taken off to somewhere in Reading. When she was 21, her parents placed another call to the police, alleging that she had taken money from her father's bank account, which she later returned. Then Loretta reported Sherry was harming herself and blaming the injuries on her. Retired NYPD Sergeant Joseph Guiacalone and now Professor at John Jay College of Criminal Justice said that after Sherry was found, I don't think they could find anything in the United States where that happened to someone. Generally, when kidnappings go on that long, they don't end as well as this one did. That no motive was ever revealed in the case is also perplexing, along with the $100,000 reward being offered in the case going unclaimed. When you're going to kidnap someone, you've got a reason for it, whether it's money, revenge, or to get back at somebody, Guiacalone said. A peer of female kidnappers is also very unusual, he said. Since authorities have indicated there's no public threat from the two women, Guiacalone said that could suggest that Sherry knew her abductors. Generally, when law enforcement doesn't say there's a public threat, they genuinely believe the person actually knows the perpetrator. Others criticized the investigation, one person saying, the sheriff's office was so focused on that one lead that they forgot how to run an investigation. I'm not afraid to call out law enforcement when they're not doing their job and the problem in this case is that law enforcement has failed miserably. Sherry Papini now remains at home with her husband Keith and son and daughters on the outskirts of Shasta Lake in Northern California. Neighbors have said the Sherry is now only seen outside infrequently and mostly stays home. Weedle family member Dave Barton sent this one in, he calls it Autos. When I was 16, I got into a wreck in my dad's truck. I had my license for one week when this happened and the truck was my dad's work truck. He had his own business. I was in deep trouble. Luckily for me, the guy who came to tow the truck was someone my dad had known from his teenage years. The man's name was Otto. So my dad rode with Otto since he wanted the truck towed to our house. When my dad had cooled off enough to talk to me, he told me about Otto and how that they had both been street racers. Was that a term used in the late 60s? Anyway, the main street in Salt Lake is State Street and weekend nights teenagers would cruise up and down State Street until they made it illegal. They also went to a local drag strip so they didn't risk speeding tickets. One more ticket, no more license. He told me that Otto started a business called Otto's Auto and Marine where he would fix cars, boats, build race cars, and towed cars. His shop was very successful. He was the only one who could test a boat engine under load at his shop. He basically had a big pool you could back a boat into and tie it down and run the engine. Better than anyone else could do. He could have been considered a local legend in certain circles. Obviously not to lawyers or white collar guys, but anyone with an auto shop, marine shop, raced cars, or ran tow trucks knew about him. Had a good shop. Wish I had a shop like that. One kid in an auto shop would wear an Otto's t-shirt and I thought it was cool. Well fast forward 15 years or so. I'm working as a small engine mechanic. The building we were in was being sold and we had to move. We moved across the street and that's when I found out where Otto's shop was. We were moving onto Otto's building. I did not know if Otto was even around anymore or not. I thought it was cool. This is also when I learned that I knew a lot more people than I thought who knew Otto. I was rebuilding the engine to my truck and took it to a machine shop which is owned by a guy my dad and I know and have used before. Talking to him one day I told him that we were moving into Otto's old shop. He got kind of quiet and told me it's too bad what happened to Otto. My work had hired a new delivery driver. Turns out he'd married into Otto's family. He married Otto's niece. Between the two of those guys I found out what had happened to Otto. Things were not going well in their marriage and Otto killed his wife and himself. It was a shock that someone who seemed to have it all would do such a thing. Well I guess the grass isn't greener on the other side and you don't know what other people are really going through, whatever the reason, it's sad. With the building faces north, the very west end of the building, lower floors to break room, salesman's office and shop office, my office, which is directly right off the shop. Directly upstairs from that is where Otto and his wife had their offices. We did not use this area for anything other than storage. It was in disrepair and had basically been stripped down. I worked in the shop, which was of course right below the upstairs. There were windows that would allow people from upstairs to see into the shop. I could also see upstairs from the shop. Sometimes the lights would be on upstairs and the other guys I worked with would try to freak each other out saying that it was Otto's ghost. I just chuckled to myself that someone just forgot to turn off the lights and that it's funny when people try to freak each other out. Now in the shop we had some shelving, riveter shelving for storing parts on machines that were in for repair. You ever seen a busboy using those grey plastic totes to collect all the dishes from a table? Well we used those bins on the shelves to make sure all the parts for a machine would stay in the same spot altogether and wouldn't get mixed up with parts from another machine. I mentioned that off the shop was an office. At the end of the day I'd go into the office and enter my time and labor descriptions onto jobs, file for warranty emails, etc. I was usually the last person to leave as well. I don't remember what day or month it was, but it had to have been in the winter because it had gotten dark outside and I never stayed late enough in the spring, summer or fall months to be there when it was dark. Earlier in the day a front wheel assembly came in for one of the riding mowers I was working on, a complete assembly, tire, rim bearings, shaft, etc. and I put it in the bin. Now the tire was big enough that I couldn't just slip it into the bin with the limited space between the top of the bin and the bottom of the next upper shelf. I had to pull out the bin, put the tire in the bin and then push the bin back. So it was the end of the day. I was the last one in the building. It was locked up. I never liked being there alone without the doors locked. I was in my office doing the end of the day work when I heard a bang in the shop which scared the crap out of me so I got up and went out to the shop and found the tire that I had put in the bin earlier on the ground. The same tire that was big enough that I had to pull the bin out in order to put it in there. That tire was on the ground. I hurried and checked to see if anyone was in the sales office or front parking lot. Nobody was. I checked the rest of the building and the main parking lot. Nobody was there. Everything was locked. So what did I do? I went and put the tire back in the bin. I figured if I put the tire back Otto's ghost wouldn't think that I was scared. But I was. I was freaking out. I went into the shop office to log out and shut down the computer. Could have gotten in trouble if I left the computer on overnight. Updates, you know? And I went home. I told my wife and family what had happened, but I never told anyone at my work about it until I quit. I didn't want Otto's ghost, if that's who it was, maybe it was his wife's ghost, but I'm sticking with Otto's ghost. Anyway, I didn't want Otto's ghost to know that he had really scared me. And it really did scare me. If he knew that, maybe it would have encouraged him to do it even more, and I didn't want that. I didn't quit because of it. I just got a better job opportunity. Now, I've never had any weird experiences, never seen a ghost or anything like that. I'd roll my eyes about people saying that something scary or paranormal would happen to them. Not literally, that'd be rude. I was rolling my eyes in my mind. I'm not saying there aren't spirits or ghosts or something out there. Too many stories. Too many things that are unexplained for there not to be something out there. I just question the integrity of the people telling me. That's all. So if people roll their eyes at what happened to me and don't believe me, that's fine. I deserve it. But it really did happen. And it scared the crap out of me. I just wonder why nothing else happened to me or the others at my work. And I can't think of any other explanation of how that happened. Can you? Up next on Weird Darkness, when groups of sinister drones began hovering over homes in America's Midwest, the FBI, the U.S. Air Force and 16 police forces set up a task force. But the drones vanished, and some wonder if they ever existed at all. In the near future, virtual reality games are indistinguishable from the real world. Players can take on the role of a star quarterback or rule as the king of a virtual kingdom. 13-year-old Jake prefers to spend his free time building Zaloria, a virtual world he created from scratch, where he and his two best friends, Des and Kerry, spend their afternoons completing quests and collecting treasure. However, all in Zaloria is not what Jake expected. When Jake discovers that the world he built is growing and changing on its own, he and his friends uncover a secret that could change the world forever. Jake and his friends must fight for survival when his virtual world takes on a mind of its own. Game Alive, a science fiction adventure novel by Tripp Ellington, narrated by Darren Marlar. You're a free sample on the audiobooks page at WeirdDarkness.com. At Twilight, on New Year's Eve 2020, Placido Montoya, 35 years old, a plumber from Fort Morgan, Colorado, was driving to work. Ahead of him, he noticed blinking lights in the sky. He'd heard rumors of mysterious drones, whispers in his local community, but now he was seeing them with his own eyes. In the early morning gloom, it was hard to make out how big the lights were and how many were hovering above him. But one thing was clear to Montoya. He needed to give chase. As he approached the drones in his car, they took off very fast and Montoya tried to follow. He confesses hitting 120 miles per hour before losing track of them. They were really, really creepy, he says. I don't know how to describe it, but it's almost as if they were watching us. That night, Vince Lavenella, a deputy sheriff at Morgan County Sheriff's Office, received more than 30 calls from locals reporting drones zipping around all over the place. Lavenella himself saw one with red, white, and green lights that he also tried to chase. It outran me, he recalls. Meanwhile, neighboring Nebraska and Kansas were also dealing with their own mysterious drone swarms. From December 2019 to January 2020, residents of the three states were perturbed by multiple sightings of numerous unmanned aerial vehicles, UAVs, with wingspans of up to six foot flying between 6pm and 10pm in grid formations. On the same night that Lavenella was receiving calls, a Nebraska deputy reported seeing 30 to 50 drones in the sky. Witnesses were alarmed by the size and speed of the vehicles. It got to the point that we were fixing to take up arms, says Mike from Linden, Colorado, who wishes to retain partial anonymity. But as quickly as the drones came, they disappeared. That was it. They were gone, Montoya says. More than a year later, no one knows who was behind the drones. Despite an investigation involving the FBI, US Air Force and Federal Aviation Administration, FAA, there are no official answers. Amazon, Google and Uber have denied involvement and so did the local Air Force base. Somebody is doing something and nobody is saying anything about it, Montoya summarizes. But even somebody doing something is now up for debate. One reporter claims the drones never existed at all. What really happened in the sky above the American Midwest in those fateful winter months? And what can the incident tell us about new technology and old fears? Did the mystery drones really exist? And if so, why can't anyone find out who was behind them? Is a new type of conspiracy theory being born? Are drones the new UFOs? First things first, there are videos. On YouTube, you can easily find footage of blinking lights hovering over houses, farms and highways in Colorado. It's evident at least some of these lights belonged to drones, although it's harder to determine if these drones really were six feet wide. In early 2020, Douglas D. Johnson, a research affiliate with the Scientific Coalition for Unidentified Aerial Phenomenon Studies, used America's Freedom of Information Act, FOIA, to uncover reams of FAA documentation about the drone mystery. Johnson's research revealed that law enforcement officers in 16 Colorado and Nebraska counties personally witnessed the drone activity, with one Kansas state trooper using night vision goggles to estimate one drone had a 10-foot wingspan. Brett Tingley is a journalist for The Warzone, a defense news publication. He believes the documents prove something strange did occur. There are consistencies among the eyewitness reports that suggest these drones possessed longer flight times than most off-the-shelf UASs, unmanned aircraft systems, he says. He believes the witness testimony appeared legitimate enough to local and state law enforcement and the FAA to take the sightings seriously. Still, that doesn't mean that there wasn't a frenzy. On January 29, 2020, Vice Reporter Aaron Gordon published an article claiming the mysterious drone sightings were a classic case of mass hysteria. In an earlier article, he noted that the Colorado Department of Public Safety, CDPS, flew a multi-mission aircraft for nearly five hours in Colorado on January 6 that year and found no suspicious drone activity. Johnson calls the vice article shoddy, but Tingley concedes that some sightings could have been hysteria, particularly after the drones made national news. Some officials even became a little hysterical. Deputies in Nebraska reported finding space potatoes after chasing drones through a field. In actual fact, the lumpy brown objects were a farming product used to fill irrigation ruts in fields. Lavenella agrees that hysteria built up quickly and says that some witnesses were undoubtedly looking at planes, but, quote, I was irritated by people saying we didn't see nothing because that's not true. I know that was happening those first few days on the drones. They were there, unquote. By January 6 of 2020, a multi-agency task force had been set up to investigate. The FBI, Federal Aviation Authority, Air Force, and local law enforcement officials made up a team of 70. However, the task force disbanded by January 22 after drone sightings dramatically dropped off. FAA communications manager Ian Greger now says, we did not receive any information that enabled us to determine what exactly it was that people reported seeing, and if they were drones, who was flying them? In a separate investigation, the CDPS examined 23 drone sightings between the 6th and 13th of January and determined 13 sightings were planets, stars, or small hobbyist drones. Six sightings were determined to be atmospheric conditions or identified commercial aircraft, while four sightings remained unidentified. Witnesses, such as Placido Montoya, aren't best pleased with the task force's inconclusive investigation, nor the CDPS's explanations. I don't feel safe, he says. I looked up and I felt like I was being violated. Lovedella stresses that investigations only began after sightings had died down and the drones had already moved on. Why is it so difficult to determine who is flying a drone? In 2018, Gatwick had to cancel hundreds of flights after drones were spotted by the runway. Chaos reigned between the 19th and 21st of December while police and the military investigated. On December 21, a couple was arrested, they were later awarded $200,000 compensation for a false imprisonment. On December 23, police said that it was a possibility that there was never a drone at all. In April 2019, police and Gatwick officials claimed the incident was potentially an inside job. James Scanlon is a design and engineering professor who runs Southampton University's Strategic Research Center in Autonomous Systems. He says if an individual is controlling a drone from the ground, then radio frequencies can be used to determine where the transmission is coming from. The problem comes when there's a drone that's flying with radio silence, so it's not transmitting, no one's transmitting to it. It might have a flight plan on board so it executes its mission and doesn't need any control from the ground, he says. It's very hard to do anything about those. Clues can of course be found in the drones themselves, which is why witnesses in Colorado, Nebraska and Kansas wanted to shoot them down. Because these drones were reportedly very large and very fast, some assumed they were military. In early January 2020, F.E. Warren Air Force Base in Wyoming denied ownership of the drones after inquiries from local newspapers. So who could possibly possess the kind of technology seen over the American skies that winter? Locals speculate about drug dealers, secret government operations, or even foreign spies. But Scanlon notes that you or I could purchase powerful drones ourselves. There's a commercial drone on the market called the Penguin Bee from a Latvia company that's about six foot in wingspan and has a very long endurance, so I could go and fly those tomorrow. To this day, Tingley still receives emails claiming the mysterious drones never went away. Mike, the witness from Linden, runs a 3700 member Facebook group. We still have people on there who've been keeping a very close eye on drone activity, he says. Mike says the drones interfered with his mobile phone connection and believes that they were equipped with audio surveillance. Because the moment we identified the location and pointed a camera up there, they suddenly went blackout. Other witnesses have made similar claims. Mike says claims of mass hysteria are frustrating, but then references ufologist and conspiracy theorist Milton William Cooper, asked if he himself identifies as a conspiracy theorist. Mike says, No, I tend to vet pretty much every lead, and if I do not find credible evidence to support that lead, I will not push forward with it. Five minutes later, he begins discussing footage of the 9-11 terrorist attacks. Take the frame by frame footage of the towers coming down and compare that to a controlled demolition. The individuals in Mike's Facebook group encompass everyone, from curious witnesses to people who believe the drones somehow caused the coronavirus. Some are self-confessed UFO enthusiasts. Mystery drones after all are unidentified flying objects by another name. In 2018, the top two websites for reporting UFOs revealed there had been a rapid decline in worldwide UFO sightings since 2014. In January 2019, drone researcher Fein Greenwood claimed, this decline coincides with the period when relatively advanced drone technology first became truly accessible to consumers, in a slate article entitled, Drones Are The New Flying Saucers. In emails about the mystery drones uncovered by Douglas, one FAA official remarked, Not too long ago, we would have called these UFOs. Their colleague replied, Yep, now everything is a drone. In her article, Greenwood explains that this is likely down to good old human psychology. If we see something we can't identify, we're likely to slot in whatever seems most plausible. And what seems plausible may change depending on current events and modern fears. Greenwood cites multiple instances in which pilots mistakenly reported drone sightings. In 2016, police reported that a passenger plane at Heathrow collided with a drone before the UK's transport minister clarified it may have even been a plastic bag. Conspiracy theory expert Daniel Jolly, a psychology professor at Northumbria University, says even when drone incidents are real, mystery can breed suspicion. When people hear about such things, they interpret this information in line with their prior beliefs. If you believe that powerful forces are up to shady things and generally have a mistrust of official information, you could be more likely to see a hidden motive. But Greenwood also believes we absolutely should be concerned about the malevolent use of consumer drones. Johnson says he's obtained documents from America's Nuclear Regulatory Commission that show there were 57 drone-related security events at NRC licensed facilities between 2014 and 2019. Only five of these incidents were deemed resolved. He also has discovered that on two nights in September 2019, security guards reported seeing a number of drones flying over the largest power plant in the US, Palo Verde Generating Station in Arizona. In January 2021, a year after Montoya first saw drones in the night sky, the Pentagon released a new strategy to counter small drones, with official documents stating, technology trends are dramatically transforming legitimate applications of small drones while simultaneously making them increasingly capable weapons in the hands of state actors, non-state actors, and criminals. Many of the Freedom of Information Act documents obtained by Johnson were redacted, including witness photographs of drones in FE Warren documents. So was the whole thing real or imagined? A conspiracy or a covert operation? Could it even be a bit of both? Some suspicious drone hobbyists believe the FAA itself orchestrated the mystery so they could enforce tighter regulations. On December 26, 2019, the FAA proposed that all but the smallest drones should broadcast tracking signals to allow them to be remotely identified. One thing is evident. Drones real or imagined are capable of causing chaos. What caught me off guard is we have no answers to this day, and it's like everybody is okay with it, Montoya says. At first he thought Amazon was behind the drones. Now he wonders whether it could be the government or foreign powers, and then he offers up one final theory, good of an aliens, he says with a laugh. Thanks for listening. If you like the show, please share it with someone you know who loves the paranormal or strange stories, true crime, monsters or unsolved mysteries like you do. You can email me anytime with your questions or comments at darren at WeirdDarkness.com. You can find me on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and the show's Weirdo's Facebook group on the Contact social page at WeirdDarkness.com. Also on the website, if you have a true paranormal or creepy tale to tell, click on Tell Your Story. All stories in Weird Darkness are purported to be true unless stated otherwise, and you can find source links or links to the authors in the show notes. The brothel poisoning was posted at Strange Company. The litigating witch case is from esoterics.com. Attack of the Drones is by Amelia Tate for TheGuardian.com. The Sherry Papini mystery is posted at strangeoutdoors.com. Weird Darkness is a production of Marlar House Productions. And now that we're coming out of the dark, I'll leave you with a little light. Psalm 5, verse 12. Surely, Lord, you bless the righteous. You surround them with your favor as with a shield. And a final thought. You don't love someone for their looks or their clothes or their fancy car, but because they sing a song only you can hear. I'm Darren Marlar. Thanks for joining me in the Weird Darkness. Then, a man called the Shasta County Sheriff's Office a few months after the alleged abduction claiming that he was a sherry. Then, a man called the Shasta County Sheriff's Office a few months after the alleged abduction claiming that the sherry was a retired New York Police Police Department Sgt. Joseph Ge... Gea Cologne. Retired NYPD Sgt. Joseph Gea C... Joseph... Joseph Gea... Gea Cologne. Retar... retarded? Wow, that's bad. Hey Weirdos, our next Weirdo Watch Party is coming up fast! It's Friday, February 9th. The gruesome two-sum of Graveyard Cinema, Horrible Henry and Mad Marty are presenting the 1950s Quick Sand, starring Mickey Rooney and Peter Lorre. In the film, a man takes $20 from his employer to go on a date, planning to replace the money the next day. But he falls increasingly into more disastrous circumstances and further in need of more money, and it spirals out of control. Join us Friday, February 9th for Quick Sand. It's free to watch online, and you can chat along with the rest of us Weirdos as we watch the movie together. The show begins at 8 p.m. Eastern, 7 p.m. Central, 6 p.m. Mountain and 5 p.m. Pacific. You can watch a trailer for the film and watch horror hosts and schlocky B-movies any time, day or night, on the Weirdo Watch Party page at WeirdDarkness.com. 1950s Quick Sand, starring Mickey Rooney and Peter Lorre. Friday, February 9th, on the Weirdo Watch Party page. Hey Weirdos, be sure to click the like button and subscribe to this channel. And click the notification bell so you don't miss future videos. I post videos seven days a week, and while you're at it, spread the darkness by sharing this video with someone you know who loves all things strange and macabre. If you want to listen to the podcast, you can find it at WeirdDarkness.com slash listen.