Bailey Sarian

In a quiet Austrian town, a father's unspeakable crime remained hidden for over two decades. Josef Fritzl lured his 18-year-old daughter Elisabeth into his basement in 1984, where he imprisoned, drugged, and handcuffed her [citation:1][citation:5]. For 24 years, he subjected her to repeated abuse, fathering seven children in a windowless dungeon accessible only through an electronically locked concrete door [citation:1]. Three of those children never saw daylight, knowing nothing of the outside world [citation:5]. When his eldest daughter Kerstin fell critically ill, the horrific secret was finally exposed [citation:1].

After five decades of obsession, one theory finally connects every piece of the Zodiac puzzle without forcing the evidence to fit a predetermined narrative. The Zodiac was not a single mastermind, but rather multiple individuals operating in a twisted collaboration. One man committed the physical murders, driven by rage and compulsion. Another, more articulate and manipulative, authored the letters, crafting the persona of an untouchable genius killer. This explains the forensic contradictions—the DNA, fingerprints, and eyewitness descriptions that never aligned with any single suspect—because the forensic evidence points to different men . It explains why handwriting analysis consistently excluded Arthur Leigh Allen while other circumstantial evidence implicated him . The Zodiac was a manufactured identity, a fiction created by two men whose collaboration gave birth to one of history's most enduring mysteries.

She hid her lover in the attic of her family home for nearly a decade. He lived above her husband, ate his food, and even survived a cross-country move. When her husband finally discovered the truth—it was too late.
This is the story of Dolly Oesterreich, who kept Otto Sanhuber in her attic from 1913 to 1922 [citation:1][citation:3]. In 1922, Sanhuber shot and killed Fred Oesterreich during an argument [citation:1]. Dolly staged the scene as a burglary and locked herself in a closet [citation:8]. The secret unraveled years later [citation:7].

She collected life insurance payouts from four dead husbands. She poisoned them all with arsenic—extracted from flypaper. Lyda Southard was a widow. She was also a killer [citation:2].
Lyda married four men between 1915 and 1920. Each one died suddenly. Each one left her money. She even poisoned her own daughter. When investigators exhumed the bodies, they found arsenic in every one. She was convicted of second-degree murder and sentenced to life in prison [citation:2].

🎬 "She showed up uninvited, demanding sex. Then she vanished. A missing person's case turned into a twisted confession — with a letter that began 'Pigs read this.'"
In this episode of Bailey Sarian's Murder, Mystery & Makeup, she investigates the death of Brittany, whose body was found near Lake Skinner. Her killers left a handwritten note detailing a gruesome sequence of events involving bondage, tasers, and dismemberment. One of the suspects attempted suicide and left the letter, signed "slave and pet." This case explores themes of obsession, control, and a chilling confession.

"He left a message on the wall in lipstick: 'For heavens sake catch me before I kill more. I cannot control myself.'"
In 1946, 17-year-old University of Chicago student William Heirens confessed to three brutal murders that had terrorized the city. He was convicted and sentenced to three life terms. But decades later, questions remain—was he a monster, or was he a scapegoat framed by a corrupt system? Heirens later recanted, claiming he was interrogated for six days without sleep, beaten, and given truth serum. The case remains one of Chicago's most controversial mysteries.

📱 "They killed a parent and thought they'd get away with it. Then their Snapchat data told the truth."
In this episode of Mystery & Makeup, we explore a chilling case where a killer was undone by their own digital footprint. Snapchat's location services, photo timestamps, and even saved messages can paint a timeline that contradicts any alibi. When investigators traced the killer's snaps back to the crime scene, the evidence became undeniable. This is the story of a murderer who thought they could erase their past, only to be caught by the app they used every day.

He was a pillar of the community, a doctor who treated the most vulnerable. He was also a predator hiding in plain sight. When investigators dug deeper, they uncovered a shocking pattern of abuse spanning years. Dr. Wayne Davis was convicted of sexually assaulting two patients in Salford, exploiting their trust and religious naivety [citation:13]. He performed a "stretching" procedure with no medical basis, later telling police: "What is any woman in the world going to do who's got a problem like that? Work it out." He was sentenced to eight years in prison.

A 74‑year‑old woman vanished during her son's prison furlough. He told police she was visiting friends—but a pizza shop owner's tip and a box of "dog bones" exposed a horrifying secret.
Robert Moorman was serving time for kidnapping when his mother, Roberta, secured his three-day release [citation:9][citation:2]. On January 13, 1984, she died inside their motel room after he tied her to the bed, beat her, and suffocated her with a pillow [citation:11]. He then dismembered her body, cooked some remains, and packed her bones in a box—which he gave to a prison employee as "spoiled meat bones" for guard dogs [citation:9][citation:11]. He was arrested after a suspicious pizza shop owner called police [citation:2]. He was convicted of first-degree murder and executed in 2012 [citation:2][citation:9].

He was a husband, a father, and a man with a dark obsession for women's shoes and feet. In the late 1960s, Jerome "Jerry" Brudos became one of Oregon's most notorious serial killers. He murdered at least four women, taking their footwear as trophies and committing necrophiliac acts [citation:2][citation:6]. But could his wife, Ralphene, have known more than she let on [citation:2][citation:7]? Bailey Sarian explores the disturbing psychology of the "Shoe Fetish Slayer" in this episode of Murder, Mystery & Makeup [citation:1][citation:5].