Dennis O'Leary lights a candle that has been burned since 1920 and that was used during Prohibition to signal whether the restaurant was serving alcohol at John's of 12th Street in New York. Photo / Bryan Anselm for the Washington Post
Dennis O'Leary lights a candle that has been burned since 1920 and that was used during Prohibition to signal whether the restaurant was serving alcohol at John's of 12th Street in New York. Photo / Bryan Anselm for the Washington Post
The mafia walking tour starts at John’s of 12th Street, one of Manhattan’s oldest red-sauce joints. Just outside, our guide informs us, is where Lucky Luciano shot Umberto Valenti.
Dennis O’Leary begins the tour by showing us his official NYPD badge. The retired detective, 62, has seen his share of murders, but he conducts the tour with a light and friendly tone.
Just about everyone in Little Italy seems to know him; he will happily give guests his cellphone number if they need help securing a reservation at John’s.
As we meander down the streets of the East Village, into Little Italy and then to Chinatown, he gives us the scoop on New York City’s underbelly of organised crime. There is a stop at the Ravenite Social Club, which acted as the headquarters of the Gambino crime family.
We gather near the old Milo Printing, where O’Leary says fake stocks and bonds were printed for the mafia. Remember Goodfellas? The two characters who killed Joe Pesci in the movie had a favourite haunt. We visit that, too.
A 2024 poll from YouGov showed that 57% of United States adults consume true-crime content and that 5% do so every day. Podcasts, documentaries and streaming series are wildly popular. The travel industry is responding with an influx of macabre tours: true-crime tourism, if you will.
O’Leary’s mafia tour began in 2017 as a way to bring people into his beloved neighbourhood; he touts himself as someone who will “cut the BS and give you an ‘insider’s perspective’”.
“The bulk of people are interested in true crime,” he says, adding that any new media - like a documentary or podcast and especially the Academy Award-nominated movie The Irishman - can give his business a boost.
Detective-turned-tour-guide Dennis O'Leary stands in front of John's of 12th Street in New York. Photo / Bryan Anselm for the Washington Post
Following killers and victims
In Milwaukee, a walking tour for the “Cream City Cannibal” follows serial killer Jeffrey Dahmer’s footsteps. A Chicago Crime Tour takes place in an air-conditioned bus.
French Quarter Phantoms tells the story of colourful characters such as the never-apprehended Axeman of New Orleans, an unidentified serial killer who went on a rampage in the early 20th century and who, like Jack the Ripper, had a penchant for mocking the media.
Art Markman, a professor of psychology at the University of Texas in Austin, says that humans have an inherent interest in true crime because stories like these enable us to be transported into situations that we wouldn’t find ourselves in normally, and that we can experience extreme emotions that go beyond our daily lives.
“We love reading crime stories, whodunnits, police procedurals and other genres for that reason,” he says.
“True crime adds the additional component that the story itself is true, which can heighten the creepiness, fear or sense of injustice, depending on the nature of the story,” he added.
Kim Cooper, 57, co-owner of Esotouric Tours Into the Secret Heart of Los Angeles, says their business, established in 2007, stemmed from their true-crime blog. Now, their tours blend historic crime stories with a mix of culture, history and architecture.
They offer two “purely” true-crime tours in downtown Los Angeles: the Real Black Dahlia and Human Sacrifice.
Cooper notes that a lot of new visitors have come to Los Angeles to learn about the infamous Cecil Hotel after the death of Elisa Lam, the 21-year-old Canadian student who was visiting the city and whose body was found in a water tank on the roof of the hotel 19 days after she was first reported missing.
“True crime is pretty consistently a draw for our guests,” Cooper says, “and even if they’re not familiar with the lesser-known cases we cover, they are interested in the topic.”
Mob bosses used to dine at John's. Photo / Bryan Anselm for he Washington Post
The popularity of podcasting
True-crime podcasts and dramas have exploded in popularity, satisfying consumers’ hunger for in-depth storytelling on a platform that is easily binge-worthy.
Serial got people talking about the genre, and it seemed to explode from there with entries such as Dr Death and Crime Junkie. The Hulu series Only Murders in the Building is built around a fictional true-crime podcast produced by the main characters, with an arc built around a podcast host played by Tina Fey.
Markman says that true crime requires resources to investigate and that an investigation may not pay off depending on what the investigator finds. He believes that podcasting changed this.
“Podcasting, in particular, lowered the overhead necessary to distribute content, which made it easier for people to engage in an investigation in the hope that it would lead somewhere interesting enough to hold an audience.”
According to a 2024 poll from YouGov, 61% of women said they consume true-crime content, compared with 52% of men, and more than 60% of adults between 30 and 64 said they tune in.
Americans are split as to whether the genre is acceptable from a moral perspective. More people say it is ethical (50%) to consume true-crime content than say it is unethical (16%). And 38% say it is ethical to make true-crime content.
Ryan Murphy’s hit Netflix show Dahmer - Monster: The Jeffrey Dahmer Story received significant backlash from families of Dahmer’s victims, who called the show such things as greedy and retraumatising.
I’m the writer and host of a popular true-crime podcast about my hometown in the Ozarks, and I have spent the past three seasons working to navigate the growing appetite for true crime while ensuring the story is told accurately and respectfully towards the victims and their families.
However, that doesn’t mean the podcast is void of … well, voyeurs. Beyond tours, armchair detectives are choosing travel based on specific cases.
The stained glass from Lanza's, now Joe and Pat's, a stop on O'Leary's New York crime tour. Photo / Bryan Anselm for the Washington Post
Hello, armchair detectives
Kevin Allen, 54, a software executive from Raleigh, North Carolina, said he travels specifically for true crime.
Allen became interested in several cases, including the Springfield Three, and thinks of them as a puzzle, waiting to be solved. I found Allen in a private Facebook group that is devoted to the case, which involves three women from the Ozarks who went missing in 1992 and have yet to be found. The group has more than 3000 members, with people constantly sharing information, theories and tips about the case.
“This isn’t in any way meant to minimise the real violence and impact on the victims and their families, many of whom I have spoken with and gotten to know,” he said. “And if I can be any part of that effort, I want to do so.”
Allen drove to Springfield, Missouri, to visit the sites connected with the Springfield Three case, and he went directly to the possible scene of the crime: a residential home where the three women were probably taken from. He walked around the entire block of the house, and he even met up with a local armchair detective whom he met via Facebook.
“These cases take on a whole new meaning when you put yourself at the scene of the crime. … You get a feel for the setting, the dimensions and the feel of the area,” Allen said.
“It really makes a difference in the way you think about these cases, and I find it very helpful as you try to get into the head of the perpetrator,” he added.
Armchair detectives such as Allen might add a new layer to the onion in hopes to peel back parts of a case. But what happens when internet sleuths descend upon a location in hopes to solve a mystery?
O’Leary, who previously worked in law enforcement, said “armchair detectives can actually find new information and be a new set of eyes”.
As long as they don’t interfere with the investigation, which would be illegal, he said, they can be an asset in fact-finding. It’s then up to the police to see whether there’s credence to any findings.
Media attention and ethical concerns
Media coverage or even tourism can help to bring attention to a case.
Podcasts such as Up and Vanished and Your Own Backyard have helped to uncover crucial evidence that aided in cracking real crimes.
“I’ve realised I enjoy unsolved cases much more. With an unsolved case, a podcast can at least bring more attention to it, and potentially help generate tips,” Allen says.
But are true-crime tours and travel sensationalising the crimes? As in, can you be sensitive to victims while charging money for a tour?
Markman points out that, if you are a public figure, you can reasonably expect a certain amount of scrutiny of your life and habits.
“A celebrity having a meal may get asked for a picture or autograph, and reporters may pry into the details of a famous person’s life. But the victim and family of a victim of a crime did not sign on for notoriety,” he says.
Markman suggests that tour operators should tread lightly when it comes to engagement with the family of a victim. After all, they may be grieving.
When I pose this question to Cooper, she says: “There is always a danger of sensationalism, and it comes down to who is giving these tours, their motivation and their knowledge of the material. When guides are hired to work from a script, if that script is exploitative, the tour will be, too.”
Her tours visit the outside of the Cecil Hotel (which now serves as supportive housing) rather than going in because “that’s people’s home”.
Cooper is not only a horror-history aficionado but also a champion for Los Angeles storytelling. She says that true crime is a special niche and that the crossover between it and LA is special.
“People are interested in this, but when it happens in your own hometown, there are places that hold the echoes,” she says.
