TCP Ep. 6 Robyn Maharaj, author of “Grilling Dahmer, The Interrogation of the Milwaukee Cannibal.”

Had a great conversation with Robyn Maharaj. Before his death, Detective Pat Kennedy and Robyn collaborated to bring us, “Grilling Dahmer,” a first-hand account of Kennedy’s time interrogating Dahmer beginning on the night of his arrest. We talk about how Kennedy fostered a relationship with Dahmer which ultimately lead to the identification of all seventeen of Dahmer’s victims.

The Milwaukee detective who interrogated the notorious serial killer shares a vivid chronicle of what was revealed during the weeks-long encounter.

In the late hours of July 22, 1991, Detective Patrick “Pat” Kennedy of the Milwaukee Police Department was asked to respond to a possible homicide. Little did he know that he would soon be delving into the dark mind of one of America’s most notorious serial killers, the “Milwaukee Cannibal” Jeffrey Dahmer.

As the media clamored for details, Kennedy spent the next six weeks, sixteen hours a day, locked in an interrogation room with Dahmer. There the thirty-one-year-old killer described in lurid detail how he lured several young men to his apartment where he strangled, sexually assaulted, dismembered, and in some cases, cannibalized his victims.

In Grilling Dahmer,Kennedy takes readers inside the mind of evil as he patiently, meticulously, listens to unspeakable horrors.

Don’t Forget, Blood Red Ivory drops on audio tomorrow, May 3rd!

Some Cases You Solve. Some Cases You Survive.

Naval Criminal Investigative Service Special Agent, Tyrone Benhoff is in purgatory. That’s what agents call it when they find themselves on the wrong side of command and are transferred to a place like Djibouti, Africa. He tried to open a case in Virginia that was too close to the wrong people. Now he’s being watched for even the slightest screw-up so his enemies at headquarters can drive him out of the agency.

When a sailor on leave from Camp Lemonnier, Djibouti, Africa is killed outside a wildlife preserve in Zimbabwe, Ty is hand-picked to lead the investigation. He finds himself in the middle of a turf war between ivory smugglers and an amazing group of female anti-poaching rangers trying to protect a herd of endangered elephants. If his enemies in NCISHQ don’t get him, it’s even money the wilds of Zimbabwe will.

But Tyrone Benhoff doesn’t quit a case … even when the whole thing was a setup from the start.

A wild ride of a thriller from John Stamp, whose twenty-year law enforcement career included posts as a police officer and special agent with the FBI and NCIS.

Thank you to Crush Limbo , “Yuppies on Scooters,” for the music.

That’s Criminal Episode 1 Notes

Show Link:







I wonder what I could do to make my wife want to have me killed. I could ask her I guess but I’d hate to find out I had already driven her to murder, and she just hadn’t wound up the courage to pull the trigger yet. She had a Snapped obsession for a little while there and I never got a good explanation out of her as to what the draw was.

This lady, Wendy, at fifty-two years old, finally had enough (of something) and decided she was done. Or maybe she just happened upon a lucky Google search and got inspired. She found, not kidding, that was the real website. She tried to be a smooth criminal (Shout out to Alien Ant Farm-yes, I like their version better) and used a pseudonym while filling out the page’s interest form. But she put in her real deets in the contact information. Close Wendy, but oh so far away. I’ll give her a 3 out of 10 for effort given she was smart enough to not use her real name while shopping for a killer. In the end though this seems like the equivalent of the points you get on the SAT for spelling your name right. After her inquiry, Wendy is contacted by the rentable hitman and meets him in a diner to talk business. She agrees to pay five thousand dollars for the job and puts two hundred dollars in earnest money down to show she’s serious. Then she’s promptly arrested when she finds out the hitman for hire is actually an undercover cop.

Turns out the website was originally set up by a cyber security guy as the front for his legitimate, if not oddly named, business. After he setup the website he realized his branding mistake when he started getting weird messages from people like Wendy. Instead of re-naming his site he decided to keep it and forward the requests for homicide to the local police as they came in. I was never any good at undercover work, and I never got to play hitman, but, what a fun op that would be.

After reading this article here are my questions: A: (The obvious) why do you want to kill your husband? And B: How did the conversation go when the detectives had to explain to him why his wife was in jail?

Luckily, since this is my fictional version of events, I have answers to both questions.

The interrogation room was stark. Only bare, concrete walls in drab flat white finish. The fluorescent lights blared overhead, illuminating only a laminate topped table and three chairs. In the chair opposite the only door sat Wendy, two detectives, Riggs and Murtaugh. Murtaugh held the file open in front of him so Wendy could see the statements, and screenshots in plain view. He had a notebook open and clicked his pen repeatedly on the table.

                “Let’s start with why.” He said, “Why kill your husband, Wendy?”

                “Do I need a lawyer?”

                Murtaugh slouched in his chair, “If you want a lawyer, we will make that happen. But remember, you paid that guy,” he pointed at Riggs, “to kill your husband. You did it under audio and video surveillance. No lawyer on the planet will ever let you go to court on this. You’re going to take a plea and you’re going to go to prison. We just want to know why.”

                Wendy squirmed in her seat. She chewed her bottom lip like a coyote gnawing on a trapped leg. Then she froze and her eyes seemed to clear.

                “You ever sit next to someone, and the sound of their breathing makes you want to hit them with a car?” she asked.

                Riggs looked at Murtaugh, “Yes,” he answered.

                Wendy smiled, “Yes, me and Richard have been together thirty-three years. Raised two kids, kept a fine house. I’ve cooked and cleaned up after that slob for decades.” She huffed, “In all that time I never asked for anything for myself. Never asked for fancy vacations, days at the spa, nothing like that. Now the kids are grown. I’m retired. He’s been retired for years, laying around getting fat. The other night during Jeopardy I said I think we should go on a cruise. You know what he told me?”

                Riggs and Murtaugh shook their head in unison, no.

                “He told me to go get him another beer before final Jeopardy started.” Wendy went silent.

                “No to the cruise huh?” asked Riggs.

                “That was it?” asked Murtaugh.

                Wendy looked at him and stuck up her nose.

                “You decided to kill your husband because he didn’t want to go on vacation.” Said Riggs.

                “That was just the last straw.”

                “Did you get him his beer?” asked Riggs.

                Wendy grinned, “I did, I even opened it for him.”

                “There’s more to that,” commented Murtaugh.

                Wendy snickered, “Before I gave it to him, I dropped a bunch of contact solution in it. He had the shits all night long.” She continued laughing. “I slept like a baby that night. Had the place all to myself.”

                Riggs and Murtaugh looked at each other. Before Riggs could comment Wendy’s phone buzzed on the table in front of her. They looked at the screen, then at Wendy. She wasn’t laughing any more. Her eyes were bugged out. Her skin pale, or paler than usual.

                Her husband was calling.

                “You wanna get that, or should I?” asked Riggs.

                She looked like she was trying to swallow a boulder. Her eyes were glued to the phone.

                Riggs and Murtaugh were biting back laughter.

                Murtaugh scoffed, “This is going to be great.”


Happy holidays everybody! If you’re still looking for last minute Christmas ideas Acquisitor and Shattered Circle are on sale in the Kindle store on Amazon.

For those of you who have already read them, let me know what you think.

You’ll Never Take Me Alive! Yeah, We Will.

I know I’ve written about car thieves before, but I really liked watching this guy somersault fifty feet off a bridge.

These are old sayings and kind of played out but:

“Go big or go home.”


“If your gonna do it wrong, do it right.”


“You’ll never catch me, copper!”

All seem to apply here.

Fort Myers, (Yup) Florida, was the spot recently where a suspect in a stolen van lead police on a chase before biting it spectacularly while crossing the Edison Bridge. The video (below) is FLIR but our suspect Bryan ***** looks to lose a right front tire, or maybe he dropped his cigarette, I’d like to think he was distracted trying to find the right song for running from the police (East Bound and Down by Jerry Reed, or Mr. Policeman by Brad Paisley would be my choices) when he bounced his stolen van of the right and left guardrails before coming to a literal screeching halt in the middle of the bridge.

Bryan did look good though in his utterly ungraceful, arms and legs splayed corkscrew he did flopping into the water. Maybe he had a good plan but just lost his footing and that threw off his form which in turn foiled his escape? I imagine in his head he saw himself doing the whole straighten out, toes pointed, arms crossed thing that seems to work for cliff divers on YouTube. Unfortunately, he turned out to be a dead ringer for the falling mannequin trick you see in underfunded action movies. I realize I’m giving a guy who steals vans and jumps off bridges a lot of credit here.

Nice try Bryan, but you never had a chance. Enjoy your Grand Theft, Fleeing, and Eluding charges.

And thank you Florida. You never disappoint.


Don’t forget to check out my new Jackson Cole thriller, Acquisitor

Detective Miles Otis pointed, “That’s an arm…”

Detective Jackson Cole sighed, “Yeah.”

Otis studied the random severed limb for moment, “You ever miss the good old days, dope and drive bys…?”

You catch one strange case and suddenly they call you the Freak Police behind your back. If the case is even remotely weird Cole and Otis get the call. Now they find themselves in a vacant lot staring at a forearm.

Fingerprints give them a name. Hardnosed police work generates a suspect. She’s a witch, so was the guy who’s forearm sits in a cooler at the coroner’s office. The witch says a hellhound killed her friend. And its hunting the homeless of Charleston.

Witches, magic, and a…hellhound?

Any other two detectives would laugh at a story like that. But Cole and Otis have faced the supernatural before. It almost killed them.

There’s a reason they call them Freak Police.

But can they face the darkness again?

Don’t Tweak and Post

I found a couple of pretty funny stories out of Florida this week but, man. Florida crime stories are getting to be like the slow kids on the playground. They’re just too easy to pick on.

Instead, I found a tweaker in Missouri to write about. And in all honestly, Missouri meth heads are just as fun as Florida meth heads.

Facebook Marketplace is great for all sorts of things: bikes, furniture, stolen car parts, meth…A guy in Reed Springs, MO posted a catalytic converter for sale on Facebook Marketplace. The caption read: still in the box, may or may not be listed in a police report somewhere, probably in great working order (Pretty sure the caption didn’t read like that). The accompanying picture was great too, especially the giant bag of meth sitting on a coffee table in the background.

You know how everyone always says, don’t post drunk (or in this case high as Scarface after face planting into a platter of coke), or don’t email angry? Our auto parts dealer, I mean meth dealer, Scott (I’m calling him Scott because he looks like Scott Ian from Anthrax. Yes, new music sucks, still relying on 90’s metal to get me through the gym). I’m betting Scott didn’t follow these simple rules before hitting post or else he would have seen his dope, and works, even a scale, photobombing from the top right. Could happen to anybody, but…ouch. That’s one of those posts that wake you up in the middle of the night shivering in a cold sweat asking yourself, I really shared that? In Scott’s defense though, judging by the amount of crank sitting on the coffee table, Scott probably hadn’t slept in a week. Trying to figure out why your teeth are vibrating most likely doesn’t leave much time for a healthy edit of your social media. And if he’s posting to Facebook Marketplace, what do you think his IG looks like? Or TikTok? Holy shit a tweaker TikTok channel. Yes, please.

Meth Scott
Anthrax Scott

According to the article, someone forwarded the image to 5-0 and they got a warrant for Scott’s sweet, sweet, meth dungeon. I hope they wouldn’t have just gone straight raid on him without at least having a little bit of fun first. If it was my case, I’m thinking I’d have the squad call five or six times about the converter and be no-shows for the meet-up. Or even better set up the sale while you got him under surveillance. Every time he gets to the meeting spot call him and change the location. Do that a half dozen times or so just to watch him lose his shit, then arrest him. It sounds mean-spirited but this guy poisons kids so… Sometimes you just gotta make the job work for you, ya know.


Happy Halloween Everybody. Don’t forget to check out the second in my Jackson Cole Series, Acquisitor. The perfect read for Halloween weekend.

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