title: The Nutshell Studies of Unexplained Death
author:  Corinne May Botz 
description: Bizarre and utterly fascinating, <i>The Nutshell Studies of Unexplained Death</i> is a dark and disturbing photographic journey through criminal cases and the mind of Frances Glessner Lee--grandmother, dollhouse-maker, and master criminal investigator. Photographer Corinne May Botz stumbled across the "Nutshell Studies" while making a video about women who collect dollhouses. On the suggestion of a collector, she visited the Baltmore Medical Examiner's Office, where Lee's miniature reconstructions of crime scenes were on display. The macabre dioramas fascinated and repulsed her: "I was entranced by the details: the porcelain doll with a broken arm in the attic, the grains of sugar on the kitchen floor...I was also riveted by the miniature corpses. Shot in bed, collapsed in the bathtub, hung in the attic and stabbed in the closet; all were eternally frozen in miniature rooms that had become their tombs."
zlib_text: B.J. DANIELS
  SECRET OF DEADMAN’S COULEE
  TORONTO • NEW YORK • LONDON
  AMSTERDAM • PARIS • SYDNEY • HAMBURG
  STOCKHOLM • ATHENS • TOKYO • MILAN • MADRID
  PRAGUE • WARSAW • BUDAPEST • AUCKLAND
  
  This is for Rob Myers, former coroner and always a
  mystery lover. Thanks, Rob, for all your help over the
  years. You are one of the few people I can call and ask
  about dead bodies, poisons and cool scary stuff.
  
  Contents
  Chapter One
  Chapter Two
  Chapter Three
  Chapter Four
  Chapter Five
  Chapter Six
  Chapter Seven
  Chapter Eight
  Chapter Nine
  Chapter Ten
  Chapter Eleven
  Chapter Twelve
  Chapter Thirteen
  Chapter Fourteen
  Chapter Fifteen
  Chapter Sixteen
  Chapter Seventeen
  Epilogue
  
  Chapter One
  A grouse burst from the sagebrush in an explosion of wings. Eve Bailey
  brought her horse up short, heart jammed in her throat and, for the first time,
  was aware of just how far she’d ridden from the ranch.
  The wind had kicked up, the horizon to the west dark with thunderheads.
  She could smell the rain in the air.
  She’d ridde