Chicago, IL
Her Deathly Dollhouses Made Her The ‘Mother Of Forensic Science’
Frances Glessner Lee’s morbid hobby revolutionized crime scene investigation
Almost everything was serene in the tidy farm kitchen. Floral-print wallpaper lined the room. Red-and-white lace curtains hung from a sun-splashed window. In the middle of the room, a wooden rolling pin and cutting board rested on a small table, next to a bowl containing the sticky remnants of cake batter.
A blue stove stood with its door open, a Bundt cake cooling inside. A pile of neatly folded towels with a carving knife on top of them sat on a chair. Everything in the kitchen seemed organized and undisturbed.
On the floor, however, lay the body of Barbara Barnes — a pretty, fair-skinned woman wearing a calico dress and flower-patterned apron, her auburn hair pinned tightly in a bun.
What happened to her? Did she die of a heart attack or another natural cause? Did she fight an attacker? There weren’t any marks on her body or blood spatter. In a police statement, Barnes’ husband, Fred, said she was depressed for some time and must have committed suicide. But why would she do that while baking a cake? And, if so, what was her method?
