Fraud

17 cases tagged “Fraud”

Sherri Louise Graeff-Papini
closedConvictedContemporary

Sherri Louise Graeff-Papini

Convicted: Sherri Louise Graeff-Papini

On Thanksgiving morning 2016, a motorist on a desolate stretch of California interstate spotted a small, trembling figure bound by restraints — a young mother, barely 87 pounds, branded with a burn mark and shorn of her hair. The nation wept. Then it seethed. Sherri Papini's story of abduction by two armed Hispanic women became a media sensation, a missing-person case that swallowed millions in investigative resources and detonated fear across Latino communities nationwide. FBI sketch artists disseminated her descriptions of the alleged kidnappers around the world. The California Victim Compensation Board cut her 35 separate checks. Her husband stood beside her, steadfast. But from the beginning, detectives noticed the details didn't quite fit — and a strand of male DNA clinging to her clothing would, years later, unravel everything. What investigators eventually uncovered wasn't a kidnapping. It was a 22-day escape to an ex-boyfriend's apartment in Costa Mesa, complete with self-inflicted wounds, a wood-burning brand from Hobby Lobby, and a web of prepaid-phone deception that had been spinning since at least December 2015. This is the story of how a California mother staged one of the most elaborate hoaxes in modern American law enforcement history — and why, even after conviction, she refuses to stop rewriting it.

kidnapping hoaxfalse report
Anna Vadimovna Sorokin
ongoingConvictedContemporary

Anna Sorokin

Convicted: Anna Vadimovna Sorokin

When Rachel DeLoache Williams returned from a luxury week at the Surf Club in Marrakech in the spring of 2017, she was $62,000 poorer. Her friend had promised the wire transfer was coming. It never came. The friend was Anna Sorokin, the 26-year-old daughter of a Russian truck driver who had spent four years convincing Manhattan's elite that she controlled a 60-million-euro European trust fund. Operating under the alias Anna Delvey, she defrauded banks, luxury hotels, and private individuals of approximately $275,000, forged financial documents, bounced checks, and nearly secured a $22 million bank loan using fabricated paperwork. When she was arrested, tried, and convicted in 2019, she hired a courtroom stylist and showed up in Saint Laurent and Victoria Beckham, making international headlines for her courtroom looks as much as her crimes. Netflix paid $320,000 for her story. The state took most of it under the Son of Sam law. She was released from prison, immediately detained by ICE, held for nineteen months, then released to house arrest in a 470-square-foot East Village apartment. She started selling art and made $340,000. She appeared on Dancing With the Stars wearing a bedazzled ankle monitor. Her deportation case remains unresolved. Anna Delvey, it turns out, is very hard to get rid of.

con artistfraud
Martha Helen Stewart (née Kostyra)
closedConvictedHistorical

Martha Helen Stewart (née Kostyra)

Convicted: Martha Helen Stewart (née Kostyra)

At 12:30 in the morning on March 4, 2005, Martha Stewart walked out of the Federal Prison Camp in Alderson, West Virginia. She was 63 years old. America's most famous homemaker, a woman who had watched her personal fortune touch $1.2 billion, had just served five months in federal prison for crimes that traced back to a single phone call and a stock sale that saved her exactly $45,673 in avoided losses. The story of how the most recognizable domestic brand in American history came undone involves ImClone Systems stock, a Merrill Lynch broker named Peter Bacanovic, a frightened assistant named Douglas Faneuil who became the government's star witness, and a prosecutor named James Comey who would one day lead the FBI. It involves a woman who grew up in working-class Nutley, New Jersey, modeled for Chanel at 15, navigated Wall Street in the 1960s, and built a media empire from scratch, only to lie to federal investigators over a transaction that, compared to her net worth, was pocket change. The crime was almost comically small. The cover-up was not. And the consequences reshaped one of the most iconic careers in American business history.

insider tradingwhite-collar crime
Mary Ann Cotton (née Robson)
closedConvictedHistorical

Mary Ann Cotton (née Robson)

Convicted: Mary Ann Cotton (née Robson)

'I won't be troubled long. He'll go like all the rest of the Cottons.' That was Mary Ann Cotton's assessment of her seven-year-old stepson Charles Edward, delivered to a parish official in West Auckland, County Durham, in the spring of 1872. Five days later, the boy was dead. It was the statement that finally brought her down. By the time investigators began pulling at the thread, they found two decades of bodies behind it: eleven of her thirteen children, three of her four husbands, her own mother, and a string of lodgers and stepchildren, each one dead of 'gastric fever,' each one insured, each one mourned briefly and then forgotten. The death toll, historians estimate, may have reached twenty-one. Mary Ann Cotton was a nurse, a mother, a wife. She was trusted by the sick she nursed and by the physicians who signed off on her victims' deaths. She understood, precisely, that Victorian medicine would not look twice at a working-class child dying of gastroenteritis. She killed for insurance money: modest sums, accumulated over years, in exchange for the lives of nearly everyone who had ever depended on her. She was only ever convicted of one murder. She was hanged in Durham County Gaol on March 24, 1873, in a botched execution that left her strangling at the end of a too-short rope. She was forty years old. The full story of what she did is both a portrait of individual evil and an indictment of a system that made it catastrophically easy.

serial killerVictorian era
MH
appealedConvictedHistorical

Masumi Hayashi (林 眞須美)

Convicted: Masumi Hayashi (林 眞須美)

On a sweltering July evening in 1998, residents of a quiet Wakayama neighborhood lined up to ladle curry from a communal pot at their summer festival. Within hours, sixty-seven of them were fighting for their lives. Four never recovered: a local council president, his vice president, a ten-year-old boy, and a sixteen-year-old girl. Investigators would eventually determine the pot contained at least 130 grams of arsenic trioxide — enough poison to kill more than one hundred people. The suspect was a thirty-seven-year-old mother of four who had been seen loitering near the curry pots, alone, for over forty minutes. Before her arrest, a photograph captured her in her garden, smiling, hosing down a crowd of reporters. That image would follow her everywhere. Masumi Hayashi was convicted of mass murder and sentenced to death on purely circumstantial evidence: no confession, no confirmed motive, no direct physical evidence. She has maintained her innocence ever since. Now sixty-three years old and still on death row, her case raises a question that haunts Japanese legal scholars: what if the evidence was never enough?

arsenic poisoningmass poisoning
Judias Anna Lou 'Judy' Buenoano
closedConvictedHistorical

Judias Anna Lou 'Judy' Buenoano

Convicted: Judias Anna Lou 'Judy' Buenoano

At 7:08 on the morning of March 30, 1998, a correctional officer at Florida State Prison threw the switch on the electric chair. The woman strapped into it, asked moments earlier if she had any final words, had answered only 'No, sir,' and closed her eyes. She was pronounced dead at 7:13 a.m. Her name was Judy Buenoano, and she had spent the previous evening watching a hunting and fishing show, eating chocolates, and reading a Mary Higgins Clark murder mystery. The neatness of that detail feels almost unbearable: a woman convicted of poisoning her husband, her son, and her boyfriend with arsenic, spending her last hours absorbed in fiction about someone else's crime. Prosecutor Russell Edgar had a name for her. He called her the Black Widow, a woman who 'fed off her mates and her young.' The evidence bore him out. Across nearly two decades, Buenoano is believed to have poisoned at least three people and built a life on their insurance payouts. She never confessed. She maintained her innocence to the end, eyes shut, silent in the chair. This is the story of how she got there.

serial killerblack widow
Daisy Louisa C. de Melker
closedConvictedHistorical

Daisy Louisa C. de Melker

Convicted: Daisy Louisa C. de Melker

Daisy Louisa C. de Melker, commonly known as Daisy de Melker, was a South African nurse accused of poisoning two of her husbands with strychnine to claim their life insurance. However, she was only found guilty of poisoning her only son with arsenic, the reason for which remains unclear. De Melker was the second woman in South African criminal history to be executed.

murderpoisoning
Winnie Nomzamo Madikizela-Mandela
closedConvictedHistorical

Winnie Nomzamo Madikizela-Mandela

Convicted: Winnie Nomzamo Madikizela-Mandela

Winnie Madikizela-Mandela was a South African politician and anti-apartheid activist who was convicted of kidnapping and fraud. In 1991, she was convicted of kidnapping and being an accessory to assault in relation to the death of 14-year-old activist Stompie Seipei. In 2003, she was convicted of fraud and theft related to a loan scheme.

kidnappingfraud
Belle Sorenson Gunness (born Brynhild Paulsdatter Størseth)
closedAllegedHistorical

Belle Sorenson Gunness (born Brynhild Paulsdatter Størseth)

Alleged Offender: Belle Sorenson Gunness (born Brynhild Paulsdatter Størseth)

They came to La Porte, Indiana, one by one, with their life savings tucked in their coat pockets and her letters folded in their hands. A warm heart waiting, she had promised. A fine farm. A future. Belle Gunness wrote those letters for years, placing matrimonial advertisements in Norwegian-language newspapers across the Midwest, casting for men who were lonely and solvent and, crucially, willing to tell no one where they were going. When investigators finally dug up her farm in May 1908, they found the answer to where those men had gone: butchered, dismembered, folded into gunny sacks, and buried in shallow graves near the hog pen. More than forty victims lay scattered beneath the Indiana soil. Then the farmhouse burned, a headless torso was found in the ruins, and the question of whether Belle Gunness had died alongside her crimes or simply escaped them has never been definitively answered. One of the most prolific female serial killers in American history, she was never charged with a single murder. This is her story.

serial killerfemale serial killer
Nancy Agnes Hazel Doss
closedConvictedHistorical

Nancy Agnes Hazel Doss

Convicted: Nancy Agnes Hazel Doss

She sat across from Tulsa police Captain Harry Stege in November 1954 and giggled. She giggled when she described stirring rat poison into her husband's coffee. She giggled when she confirmed she had poisoned four of her five husbands. She giggled when the officers pressed her about the grandchildren, the sisters, the mother. The laughter never quite left her face. Nannie Doss was 49 years old, soft-featured, grandmotherly, and by the time she was arraigned on November 29, 1954, the prime suspect in at least eleven deaths spanning four states and nearly three decades. Her weapons were domestic and unremarkable: stewed prunes, corn whiskey, a slice of prune cake, a cup of morning coffee laced with arsenic. Her victims were the people closest to her, the ones who ate at her table and slept in her bed. Investigators called her 'The Giggling Granny.' The press added 'The Black Widow,' 'Lady Bluebeard,' and 'The Lonely Hearts Killer.' Each nickname captured a piece of her; none captured all of her. Because behind the laughter sat something more complicated and more chilling: a woman who had dreamed her whole life of storybook romance, and who killed, methodically and repeatedly, every time reality fell short of the fantasy. This is the story of Nancy Agnes Hazel Doss, born in rural Alabama in 1905 and buried in a prison cemetery in Oklahoma in 1965. In between, she made sure a great many people never made it out alive.

female serial killerblack widow killer
Amy Duggan Archer-Gilligan
closedConvictedHistorical

Amy Duggan Archer-Gilligan

Convicted: Amy Duggan Archer-Gilligan

Between 1911 and 1916, forty-eight elderly residents died inside the Archer Home for Elderly People and Chronic Invalids in Windsor, Connecticut. The Jefferson Street Home in Hartford housed seven times as many residents and buried a similar number in the same period. The math was damning. The woman behind those numbers was Amy Archer-Gilligan, known to her congregation as 'Sister Amy,' a woman who donated a stained-glass window to St. Gabriel's Church and whom neighbors described as compassionate and devout. She was also a poisoner of breathtaking audacity. She had purchased more than ten ounces of arsenic from a local drugstore, enough to kill over a hundred people. She had forged a dead man's will. She had taken out life insurance policies on her husbands and encouraged her elderly boarders to name her as their beneficiary. When Connecticut state police exhumed five bodies, every single one tested positive for poison. The case scandalized the nation, inspired one of Broadway's most beloved dark comedies, and forced Connecticut to overhaul its elder care laws entirely. It also left behind questions the courts never fully answered: how many people truly died at Amy's hands, and how long had she been killing? This is the story of Sister Amy.

serial killerfemale serial killer
Sante Louise Kimes (née Singhrs; also known as Sandra Louise Singhrs, Sandra Chambers)
closedConvictedHistorical

Sante Kimes

Convicted: Sante Louise Kimes (née Singhrs; also known as Sandra Louise Singhrs, Sandra Chambers)

When New York City police stopped Sante Kimes and her son Kenny on an unrelated bad-check warrant on July 5, 1998, they expected a routine collar. What they found inside the car rewrote the definition of premeditation: two loaded pistols, plastic handcuffs, wigs, fright masks, syringes, a date-rape drug, an empty stun gun box, thirty thousand dollars in cash, a forged deed to a $7.7 million Manhattan mansion, and fifteen notebooks in which Sante had carefully practiced forging an 82-year-old woman's signature. Irene Silverman, the socialite who had rented a room to Kenny just weeks earlier, was already gone. Her body has never been found. It was the ending of a story that had begun decades earlier in the dust of Oklahoma City, wound through con jobs and slave-keeping and a White House party crasher and insurance fires, and arrived at last at the feet of a woman a judge would call 'a sociopath and a degenerate.' Sante Kimes was 64 years old and had not yet finished.

serial killercon artist
Elizabeth Anne Holmes
appealedConvictedContemporary

Elizabeth Anne Holmes

Convicted: Elizabeth Anne Holmes

Three weeks after a California jury found her guilty of federal fraud, Elizabeth Holmes had a one-way plane ticket to Mexico. The flight was booked for January 26, 2022. It was only canceled after prosecutors flagged the booking to her defense counsel. This was the woman Forbes had once called the youngest self-made female billionaire in America, worth an estimated $4.5 billion. The woman who had convinced Henry Kissinger, James Mattis, and Rupert Murdoch to stake their reputations on a technology company she founded at nineteen with her college tuition money. The woman who had promised to revolutionize medicine with a single drop of blood. By the time Holmes walked into Federal Prison Camp Bryan in Texas on May 30, 2023, her net worth was effectively zero. She now earns 31 cents an hour as a prison law clerk, helping fellow inmates write resumes. She is 41 years old, the mother of two young children, and confined to a minimum-security facility 95 miles from the city where she grew up. This is the story of how Elizabeth Holmes built one of the most audacious frauds in American corporate history, sustained it for years behind a black turtleneck and a practiced baritone voice, and ultimately couldn't outrun it. Not even with a one-way ticket.

white-collar crimeSilicon Valley fraud
Ruja Plamenova Ignatova
ongoingAccusedContemporary

Ruja Plamenova Ignatova

Accused: Ruja Plamenova Ignatova

Ruja Plamenova Ignatova is a Bulgarian and German entrepreneur known for being one of the FBI's Ten Most Wanted Fugitives. She is best known as the founder of OneCoin, a fraudulent cryptocurrency scheme described by The Times as 'one of the biggest scams in history.' In 2017, Ignatova boarded a flight to Athens and has not been seen since. Despite her disappearance, she remains a figure of interest in ongoing investigations into her fraudulent activities.

fraudcryptocurrency
Laren Renee Sims (alias: Elisa McNabney, also known as Elisa Redelsperger, Elisa Barasch, Shane Ivaroni, and 34+ other aliases — total 38 documented aliases)
closedAccusedHistorical

Laren Renee Sims (alias: Elisa McNabney, also known as Elisa Redelsperger, Elisa Barasch, Shane Ivaroni, and 34+ other aliases — total 38 documented aliases)

Accused: Laren Renee Sims (alias: Elisa McNabney, also known as Elisa Redelsperger, Elisa Barasch, Shane Ivaroni, and 34+ other aliases — total 38 documented aliases)

On Easter Sunday 2002, a jail officer in Brooksville, Florida found a woman dead in her cell. She had braided strips from her pillowcase into a rope and fastened it to an air duct in the ceiling. She was thirty-six years old, and she had been, at various points in her life, at least thirty-eight different people. Her FBI criminal rap sheet ran to one hundred and thirteen pages. Her real name was Laren Renee Sims. Most people knew her as Elisa McNabney, the glamorous, horse-loving wife of Sacramento trial attorney Larry McNabney. In the fall of 2001, she and her twenty-one-year-old legal secretary administered horse tranquilizer to Larry at a show in Los Angeles County, stored his body in a garage refrigerator for three months, buried him in a vineyard, liquidated over $500,000 in assets, and fled across the country in a red Jaguar. She was a former straight-A student with a reported IQ of 140. She was a mother who kept her teenage daughter by her side through the whole gruesome flight. She was a con artist, a forger, and a fugitive. When detectives finally traced her to a Florida beach, she looked up and said simply: "I'm the one you're looking for." This is the story of Laren Renee Sims: a woman who spent thirty years constructing false identities, fell into a marriage that may have saved her and ultimately destroyed her, and chose suicide over a courtroom. It is one of the most bizarre, cold-blooded, and strangely human cases in California criminal history.

poisoninghorse tranquilizer
VG
appealedConvictedHistorical

Virginia Gail Larzelere

Convicted: Virginia Gail Larzelere

At approximately 1:00 p.m. on March 8, 1991, a masked gunman walked into a quiet dental office in Edgewater, Florida, and fired a sawed-off shotgun through a wooden door. Behind that door, cowering against the wood, was Dr. Norman Larzelere. His last audible words were a name: his son's. Witnesses heard him call out 'Jason, is that you?' before the blast tore through his chest. On the other side of the door stood his wife, Virginia, who promptly called 911 and performed CPR on the man she had allegedly just arranged to have killed. She had spent the preceding months taking out seven life insurance policies on Norman totaling $2.1 million, and prosecutors alleged she had forged his signature on every one of them. What followed was one of Florida's most tangled criminal sagas: a death sentence, fifteen years on death row alongside Aileen Wuornos, a defense attorney later convicted of sixteen felonies who was allegedly consuming a liter of vodka and methamphetamine daily during her trial, and a son who was acquitted of the very conspiracy that sent his mother to the electric chair. Virginia Larzelere has maintained her innocence for more than three decades. The legal fight is still not over.

female killerdeath row
Dorothea Helen Puente
closedConvictedHistorical

Dorothea Helen Puente

Convicted: Dorothea Helen Puente

On the morning of November 11, 1988, police began digging up the yard of a blue-and-white Victorian boarding house at 1426 F Street in Sacramento, California. By the end of the day, they had found seven bodies. The woman who owned the house, a stout, silver-haired grandmother type named Dorothea Puente, stood nearby in a housecoat and watched. Detectives didn't consider her a suspect yet. They let her walk to a nearby café to get coffee. She never came back. For years, Puente had presented herself to social workers and city officials as a saint: a warm, generous landlady who took in the elderly, the mentally ill, the homeless, the people no one else would accept. She cooked elaborate meals and sent tenants to bed with warm milk. She also drugged them, buried them in her yard, and cashed their Social Security checks. Prosecutors would later allege she collected over $87,000 this way, spending some of it on a facelift. The Death House Landlady, as the press called her, was eventually convicted of three murders and died in prison in 2011 at age 82, still insisting she was innocent. The full story of how Dorothea Puente became one of America's most prolific female serial killers is a portrait of survival twisted into something monstrous.

serial killerfemale serial killer