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True crime. Casually done.

Dolly and Otto: The Woman Who Kept Her Secret Lover in her Attic…

Written by David Baker

Welcome back, dear readers, to the sun-kissed city of Los Angeles, which for some reason seems to pop up frequently on this most excellent programme.

The LA neighbourhood of Lafayette [la-figh-ette] Park Place is, today, a slew of run-down apartment blocks, 90% of which are owned by slumlords and rented out to impoverished people, one-third of whom earn under $30,000 dollars per year, and another third who earn under $10,000. One quarter of the people there have no high school education whatsoever. The neighbourhood is notorious for heavy drug use and violent drug trafficking, and the murder rate is twice the national average. 

https://jenikirbyhistory.getarchive.net/media/lafayette-park-norfolk-va?action=download&size=1024

But exactly a century earlier, in 1922, Lafayette Park Place, then called North St. Andrews Boulevard, looked drastically different. The neighbourhood was lined with large expensive houses, inhabited by the city’s swanky well-to-do: industrialists, stock traders, real estate moguls, trust-fund kids, wealthy widows, and media barons. The very picture of a cozy upper class neighbourhood, where the most traumatic thing to happen was a neighbour neglecting to keep his grass at regulation length. The crime rate was, sufficed to say, extraordinarily low. Yet this posh little oasis was the site of one of the most bizarre and notorious murders that scandalised LA high society for over a decade.

Near midnight, on August 22nd 1922, an early model luxury sedan pulled up to a large two-storey house. Out of the car climbed a married couple in their 40s. Both were well-dressed in evening attire, having just returned from socialising at a dinner party. The married couple were both from the Mid-West, of predominantly German extraction, and had developed a decided plumpness in their middle-age.  

The husband, Friedrich Wilhelm Oesterreich [oos-ter-rye-*hchh*, lots of characteristic Germanic phlegm on the last syllable], aged 44, was a self-made man turned wealthy textile manufacturer who ran a thriving garment business in LA. Fred Oesterreich was a hard-worker with a foul temper, completely lacking in social graces. He was short, with a babyish face, and a double-chin. He wore a sharp suit and a typical sullen scowl. His usually intelligent and piercing eyes were at this moment clouded over, because on the evening of the 22nd, as was his custom, Fred Oesterreich was stinking drunk.

The wife, Walburga [val-boer-gah] Oesterreich, aged 42, and known to both friends and acquaintances as “The Queen of Los Angeles”, was a tiny woman with a somewhat Rubenesque figure, gloriously bedecked with furs, jewels, and a dress cut in the latest fashion. Do not be fooled by the majority of pictures taken of her in old age. A former blonde beauty, with her thirties firmly behind her, in 1922 she still possessed a certain sensuousness and sexual lustre, magnified by wide mischievous eyes, high cheekbones, a smooth glowing complexion, and a wide generous mouth. The extra pounds that she had put on in recent years only seemed to add to her enticing voluptuous figure and ample breasts. The vixen housewife aesthetic was only tarnished by a slightly oversized nose that nevertheless matched her large eyes and quickly became a charming signature characteristic to those who knew her.

As the Oesterreichs marched toward the door of their luxurious home, they were arguing loudly and bitterly. We do not know the subject, though allegedly one of their more frequent topics of debate was religion. But really the subject could have been anything. After two and a half decades of marriage, Walburga irritated Fred, and Fred repulsed and sickened Walburga. 

As the married couple entered their home, their argument continued in the entrance way as Fred hung up his hat and coat. Their bickering gained volume as they moved into the living room. Fred was slurring loudly, grasping for any manner of insult and cutting statement. Walburga’s voice was growing increasingly angry and shrill. Their voices reverberated off the hardwood floors and the white-washed stone walls, echoing into the dark upper reaches of the house. It was at this point that Fred started slamming his fist on a nearby table and knocking over lamps and decorative knick-knacks in an effort to intimidate Walburga into silence.

Unbeknownst to both Fred and Walburga, in the quiet pitch-black gloom of the second floor, a strange man stealthily removed a wood panel from the ceiling, and climbed down from the attic where he had been hiding, down into the house’s “trunk room” – a storage space with a low ceiling used to contain baggage and clothing. The stranger was armed with two petite-sized .25 calibre pistols, one in each hand. The man fell to his knees and crawled out of the low hatch of the trunk room into the bedroom of Walburga Oesterreich (the married couple had long since begun to sleep in separate bedrooms). The man rose to his feet at the foot of Walburga’s bed and listened for a split second. The Oesterreichs’ argument gave no sign of abating, but progressively got louder and more frantic.

Moving swiftly through the dark bedroom, the man slowly and quietly opened the room’s door, and shafts of light began to pour onto his face from the living room below. Gripping the handle of each pistol tightly, the man walked a few short paces to the top of the stairs, raised his forearms so both pistols were aimed directly in front of him, and with a crash and series of loud thumps, the man ran down the two flights of stairs and was suddenly in the living room, with his guns trained on the dumbfounded couple who had suddenly stopped arguing and turned to look at him.  

The strange man stood there, glaring at the couple, holding them at gunpoint. He was in his mid-twenties, dark hair, large ears, a round face, and a weak chin. His thin lips were pursed downward in a triangle, making his mouth look a bit like a turtle’s. His eyes exerted a certain glint of intelligence, and the bags under them gave him a perpetually tired look. Oddly enough, the strange man was dressed only in a set of pajamas.

A baffled and intoxicated Fred Oesterreich suddenly recognised him. He shouted, “What are you doing here, you dirty rat?!”

“The same thing that you are,” came the man’s cryptic reply.

Enraged, Fred Oesterreich lunged toward the man and grabbed him by both wrists. The two men then proceeded to struggle. The stranger attempted to retain his grip on the guns as the barrels pointed directly into the air. The two men staggered and whirled around the living room, and collided forcefully with a picture hanging next to the piano, smashing the glass with the sides of their bodies. In the scuffle, the strange man accidentally pulled the trigger of one of his guns, sending a bullet racing upward where it lodged itself into the living room ceiling.

At this point, a terrified Walburga Oesterreich shouted, “Stop it, Fred, stop it!” trying to get her husband to back down. Fred Oesterreich ignored his wife’s pleas.

The two men continued to grapple with each other. But regardless of whatever energy Fred’s anger gave him, he was drunk, and nearly two decades older than the much thinner and fitter gunman. Slowly the stranger managed to bring one of his pistols down toward Fred’s face. He instantly pulled the trigger and shot Fred Oesterreich clear through the temple. The small .25 calibre bullet lodged itself inside of Fred Oesterreich’s brain. Startled, Walburga screamed.

But the wealthy garment manufacturer did not die. The shot to the head had not killed him outright. Nevertheless, Fred stopped struggling and his arms fell down limply to his sides. An empty, stunned expression spread across his face. Blood began oozing from the bullet wound in his head. He staggered a little and his legs nearly gave way. Now brain-damaged and stripped of most of his senses, Fred Oesterreich staggered away from the gunman, to a corner of the living room, where he propped himself up from falling over by holding onto the back of a wooden chair. 

The gunman stood there, speechless. Horrified at what he’d done.

Walburga Oesterreich approached the gunman calmly and grasped him by the arm. With quiet, measured tones, she said, “For Christ’s sake, Otto, what have you done?”

The gunman looked down into the eyes of Walburga Oesterreich, his mouth agape, and said nothing. After a moment’s pause, the housewife continued more forcefully, “God damn it, Otto, you have to finish it.” Another few seconds went by in silence. 

“FINISH IT.”

Numbly, the gunman approached Fred Oesterreich, who was still propping himself up on the back of the chair, his white dress-shirt now becoming red and slick with blood. The gunman drew so close to his victim that he could have hugged the man.

Slowly the gunman raised one of the pistols and at point-blank range fired two shots in rapid succession into Fred Oesterreich’s heart. Droplets of blood spattered the gunman’s outstretched arm and face. The gun had been so close to Fred Oesterreich, that the heat from the muzzle flare burned two holes into his dress-shirt. Fred Oesterreich toppled to the ground. Dead. 

The chair teetered and fell on top of him.

Meet Walburga Oesterreich

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Walburga Korschel [core-shull] was born in Chicago in the year 1880 to a German immigrant father and an Irish immigrant mother. Conversely, some accounts state that Walburga was born in the German Empire before her family immigrated to the US when she was still an infant, but there is no clear evidence of this. Walburga had one sister, Magdalen Korschel, who was two years her junior. Walburga’s father worked as a plumber in Chicago, and her mother was a housewife. In 1888, when Walburga was only eight years old, her father abandoned the family and disappeared. As a result, the mother and daughters fell on hard times. Walburga’s mother was forced to find work as an unskilled factory labourer, and when Walburga was 12 and Magdalen was 10, they too were pulled out of school and forced to earn an income. Walburga began working in a factory that produced baby bonnets. 

At the factory, Walburga Korschel became extremely popular with men and women alike. She was bubbly, cheerful, and charismatic. As the years tumbled by at the factory, and Walburga grew older, she blossomed into a bit of a blonde bombshell. Pale, petite, delicate, with doe-like blue eyes and an infectious smile that always seemed to imply she was up to something. Her features quickly bestowed on her the nickname “Dolly”, which was eminently preferable to American ears and mouths than her German name, Walburga. 

As she grew older, Dolly quickly became the object of male lust and affections. Short, and sleight of frame, Dolly had not yet developed the stout Rubenesque figure she would come to have in later life. In her youth, Dolly was thin, with a long neck, and a protruding elegant collar bone. Her thin figure laid in stark contrast to her wide hips and unusually large breasts for a woman of her build, which her modest factory uniform did very little to conceal. And it appears that Dolly enjoyed the attention, and despite the Victorian public morals of the day, she developed a rather voracious sexual appetite, engaging in frequent trysts with factory boys and, more troublingly, with older married men who ran the floor.

In 1894, Dolly met Fred Oesterreich, a young man three years her senior and whose father owned a fairly prosperous shoe store in Chicago. Dolly was initially drawn to Fred’s intense attitude and handsome features. She liked his full head of straight blonde hair, his heavy brow, his piercing eyes, his oddly aristocratic bearing, and his distinguished facial bone-structure that had not yet become festooned with fat. The stability and relative wealth of Fred’s family also made this a good match, and it tempted Dolly with a stability she had lacked in her childhood. Fred, for his part, was enamored with Dolly’s mischievous personality and physical endowments, and for three years they courted and clandestinely had sex (while Dolly carried on with other men), before marrying in 1897. 

From there, the newlyweds moved to Milwaukee [mill-walk-eee], Wisconsin, where Fred Oesterreich set up a shoe store of his own. Fred Oesterreich proved a tireless worker and a dab hand at business. He purchased multiple clothing and shoes stores in Milwaukee and nearby Chilton. And when he had accrued the necessary capital, Fred set up a small factory that manufactured men’s caps. After another few years of success, the factory expanded its output to include aprons and women’s underwear. From there, Oesterreich moved his enterprise to a large brick factory building with towering smoke stacks, and began the Oesterreich Manufacturing Company, which employed over a hundred people. 

Walburga “Dolly” Oesterreich did not always stay at home and play the gentle housewife. Due to her own factory experience, she often went there and played the role of de-facto fore-woman, making sure things ran smoothly and resolving disputes. Her primary role was ambassador. Frequently, Dolly’s warm charisma diffused tense arguments between the factory workers and her somewhat prickly husband. All in all, on the business side, the Oesterreich’s marriage worked rather well. As the money kept flowing in, the couple made a good team. 

The same could not be said of their romantic life, however, which quickly began to deteriorate. Despite having a strong sexual interest in his wife, Fred Oesterreich worked extremely long hours managing his growing manufacturing empire, and he relaxed by tucking into copious amounts of German-brewed beer and hard alcohol. Often, Fred did not come home until late, when Dolly was already asleep. And other times when Fred arrived home, he was far too intoxicated to make love to his wife.

The two also had vastly differing personalities. While Dolly was carefree and fun-seeking, Fred was dour, severe, and a bit of a skinflint. This clash of personalities frequently escalated into arguments, but a fairly indifferent Dolly often just gave up in such discussions and let Fred have his way. 

By all accounts, almost from the start of her marriage, Dolly Oesterreich began to take lovers. Often these were men she’d meet at the factory, whom she’d invite back to the house while her husband, ignorant and unaware, was still slaving away at work. Dolly’s affairs with other men were frequent, but each affair did not last very long. Only a few weeks or months after Dolly took up with a new gentleman caller, she’d shift gears and move on to another beau. Despite the briefness of her love affairs, there was seldom a pause or hiatus in Dolly’s activities, and she became something of a serial adulterer. And it also meant that Dolly gained something of a reputation in her 20s and 30s among the men of Milwaukee, Wisconsin. A reputation that all but Fred Oesterreich himself seemed to be aware of.

Behind his back, it reduced the stern factory owner to a figure of fun. Dolly didn’t seem to care, so long as she was getting her sexual needs met, which dozens of men were only too happy to fill. That is until, when in her early thirties, Dolly Oesterreich met a very special young man.

Meet Otto Sanhuber

Dolly and Fred Oesterreich only had one child, Raymond, born shortly after their marriage. Indeed, the child’s conception may have necessitated the marriage in the first place, while Dolly might otherwise have been perfectly happy to retain her bachelorette status for much longer. Given the number of Dolly’s sexual partners, it is not even clear if the child was Fred’s. But the up-and-coming young man was a prime choice for a husband and father. This was not unusual for the time, and there are somewhat shocking estimates for historical rates of paternity fraud prior to the invention of DNA testing. The boy, Raymond Oesterreich, was still in his early teens when he died of a lung-based illness of some kind. Dolly and Fred would never have another child during their marriage.

Meanwhile, Otto Sanhuber [sahn-hyoo-ber] was born in 1896. He was sixteen years Dolly’s junior. Otto was the son of German Jewish immigrants and he had been orphaned at an early age. His birth name was Otto Weir [veer], but he was adopted into another German immigrant family, the Sanhubers. A quiet, bright, and somewhat introverted young man, Otto had a liking for reading and writing fiction in his spare time. Dropping out of school in his mid-teens, a nevertheless intelligent and capable Otto eventually got a job as a repairman for Singer Sewing Machine Company in Milwaukee. 

It was in the autumn of 1913 that Dolly, now aged 33, was chatting with other women on the factory floor of Oesterreich Manufacturing Company, when she caught sight of 17 year old Otto Sanhuber. He had been called to the factory to repair a sewing machine that had broken down. One look at him stopped Dolly mid-sentence. Otto was by no means an Adonis or in any way classically handsome. But something about this quiet, skinny young man, with his sad blue eyes, reminded Dolly of her late teenage son. Combined with Dolly’s already vigorous sex drive, the resemblance lit a fire inside of the beautiful, flirty Mrs. Oesterreich, and she became determined to have the young man.

A few days after meeting Otto, Dolly lied to her husband that the sewing machine they kept at home had broken down. She requested the Singer Company send out the repairman who had been at the factory earlier that week. Dolly said she had liked him, and that Otto had done a good job.

When Otto Sanhuber arrived, Dolly answered the door wearing nothing but a red silk robe, stockings, and a liberal dose of intoxicating perfume. A revealing outfit in our own day, and one utterly scandalous in 1913. The shy 17 year old Otto, still a virgin at the time, was slightly taken aback. Dolly ushered the lad upstairs to where she kept the partially dismantled sewing machine. Otto set about putting it back together. Dolly sat on the bed, her legs crossed, waggling a foot idly up and down in his direction.

When Otto looked up from the sewing machine to tell Dolly that there didn’t seem to be anything wrong with it, he noticed that her robe had come undone, and took note of the fact that Dolly was wearing nothing underneath. Otto felt embarrassed. Then in one slow, silky movement, Dolly Oesterreich leaned back and lay down on her bed. Instinctually taking the silent cue, Otto walked over to where Dolly lay and the housewife and the young repairman had gentle but passionate sex.

From 1913 to 1922, Dolly and Otto carried on an intense love affair behind Fred Oesterreich’s back. Dolly occasionally showed up under the cover of night at the boarding house where Otto was staying. Occasionally, Dolly paid for the two of them to meet up at a hotel. Other times, Otto went by Dolly’s house during the day when Fred was at work, or Otto would swing by at night when Fred was out drinking to all hours. 

The affair was not occasional. Dolly and Otto met up whenever they could, multiple times a week, having sex multiple times a day. Eventually, Otto’s calls to the Oesterreich residence became so frequent that the neighbours began to take notice. To avoid suspicion, Dolly told the neighbours that Otto was her, quote, “vagabond half-brother.” But one neighbour, who was well aware of Dolly’s predilections and activities, warned that if Otto continued to come by, it would probably lead to a public scandal. 

Indeed, a few of the neighbours mentioned to Fred Oesterreich that a man had been frequently dropping by the house when Dolly was home alone. When Fred confronted Dolly, she lied that a book salesman had been dropping by all too frequently and pestering her to buy more of his wares, but she had told him to get lost. And Fred, always fixated on his work, took the story at face value. But this threw a spanner into the works of Dolly and Otto’s regular love making in Fred’s own bed.

It was then that Dolly hatched her brilliant but bizarre plan. If one could not bring the mountain to Muhammad, then Muhammad must be brought to the mountain. Dolly proposed to Otto that he quit his job as a repairman and move into the Oesterreich residence full time, so he would no longer be seen coming and going at all hours by the neighbours.

And, in order to for Otto to stay completely concealed from Fred Oesterreich when the older man was at home, Dolly suggested that Otto hide in the attic. 

Dolly’s Sex Slave

Otto Sanhuber did not mind quitting his repairman job, which did not pay very well, and saying goodbye to the dismal boarding house where he lived. Now, the 20 year old Otto got to enjoy free room and board, and an unlimited supply of sex from a gorgeous older woman with whom he had fallen in love. The attic where Otto stayed when Fred Oesterreich was home was furnished with a comfy feather bed, a desk, a bookshelf, an oil lamp, and, of course, a chamber pot. Otto spent his days writing short stories and fantasy fiction, which Dolly promptly mailed to various publishers. The only trick was to remain silent as the grave whenever Fred was back and sober enough to notice any disturbance in the house.

Dolly got a heavy padlock and fixed it to the trapdoor leading to the attic, locking it shut whenever Fred was in the house, so the man did not haplessly blunder up there and discover her live-in lover. When Dolly and Fred went out to dinner, she would quickly slip upstairs and unlock the attic so that Otto could get out and stretch his legs. 

Dolly had the only key to the attic, and her explanation to her husband for the padlock was that she wanted to keep her expensive fur coats, shawls, and hats safe from theft in the case of a burglary. Whenever Fred heard a strange noise in the house that sounded distinctly like a man coughing, or sneezing, or clearing his throat, Dolly would tell him it was probably a rat or a mouse, or that Fred was drunk and just imagining things. The only other strange thing that Fred Oesterreich noticed was there always seemed to be less food in the house than he anticipated. As if Dolly was secretly eating for two.

When Fred was at work during the day, and when Otto was not busy writing or making love to Dolly, the young man set about doing the household chores that were actually Dolly’s responsibility, so that the merry housewife of Milwaukee could enjoy more leisure time. Although nobody but Dolly knew he was there, Otto did pretty much everything around the house. He made the marital bed, did the laundry, swept the floor, dusted, washed the dishes, peeled the vegetables, and even grew skilled at cooking the dinners which Fred Oesterreich ate. When Prohibition later began, Otto made bathtub gin to keep him and Dolly well lubricated before and after sex. Even Fred partook in an occasional dram of bathtub gin, completely oblivious to the fact that the man who had made it was assiduously ploughing his wife.

Otto subsisted on leftovers from the kitchen. He only got to leave the house under the cover of darkness, when Dolly and Fred were out somewhere in the evening, in order to get a little exercise. As such Otto became incredibly isolated from the rest of the world, with the lustful Dolly as his only human contact for years and years. He rarely saw sunlight except through the windows of the house. But quiet, introspective, with next to no relationship anymore with his adopted family, Otto Sanhuber didn’t really mind. He quite happily became a ghost in the rafters.

But, far and away, beyond his multiple duties as a domestic servant, Otto’s most onerous task was sexually satisfying the voracious Dolly Oesterreich. According to Otto, he was regularly compelled to have sex with her up to eight times a day. While Dolly seemed to possess almost limitless stamina for such activities, after 9 years as Dolly’s paramour, including over 6 years in which he was locked in Dolly’s attic, sometimes the seemingly endless demand for sex became a burden for Otto. The chaffing must have been unreal. Otto Sanhuber later referred to himself as “Dolly’s sex slave.” And indeed, with the power dynamic of their relationship so heavily weighted in Dolly’s direction, with Otto having nothing in the world outside of his connection to her, the young man had no choice but to comply.

It is quite clear in retrospect that Dolly Oesterreich suffered from hypersexuality, or some form of sex addiction. In Dolly’s lifetime, mental health physicians referred to her condition as nymphomania. Usually hypersexuality has an underlying condition that causes it, but we cannot be sure what that condition may have been in Dolly’s case. The simplest explanation may have been neurological. There may have been an imbalance in Dolly’s frontal lobe which regulated sexual activity and controlled libido. Other possible explanations are that she may have suffered from a highly specific form of obsessive-compulsive disorder that manifested itself in sexual activity, or that she may have suffered from a similarly specific form of bipolar disorder. Or Dolly’s hypersexuality may have been somehow associated with the trauma of her father’s abandonment of his family when she was a young child.  

Whatever the underlying condition, it is clear from Dolly’s history that her hypersexuality was almost lifelong, starting almost immediately with adolescence. And the extremity and intense frequency with which Dolly imposed sex on Otto Sanhuber makes it pretty clear that she wasn’t just a lady with a healthy appetite who enjoyed an occasional roll in the hay. According to Otto Sanhuber, Dolly’s demand for sex was manic, aggressive, and unremitting, without pause or cessation in the many years he served as her lover. To the extent that it sometimes caused him physical pain to fulfill his duties. In the show Futurama, I believe they refer to this phenomenon as “Death by Snoo-Snoo.”

Despite the frequency of their copulations, there are also some indications that Otto was not Dolly’s only “gentleman friend” in the years they were together. This certainly fits with Dolly’s activities in earlier and later life, but it is difficult to confirm. What we do know for certain is that Dolly sometimes had sex with her husband, Fred, on the rare occasion when the man came home on time and sober enough to make love to his wife. While Dolly and Fred had sex, Otto was only a few feet above them listening to their activities from the attic. Otto found the jealousy this inspired extremely agitating.

Once, while Dolly and Fred were having sex, Dolly urged her husband to not be so noisy. When Fred scoffed and asked why it mattered if he made noise in his own house, Dolly replied, quote, “You never know who might hear us. That would be embarrassing.”  

Fred replied, “The windows are shut. We are alone in the house. Who the hell can hear us?”  

Dolly sighed and said, “Nobody, I guess,” and Fred’s amorous movements resumed.

As frustrating as Otto found it, the occasions when Fred and Dolly shared the marital bed were infrequent enough that he was able to grit his teeth and bear it. Otto also knew the score. Dolly had told him that she could not leave her husband. She could not work a proper job and had no fortune of her own. If she left Fred, it would mean casting both her and Otto into poverty. 

Eventually, as the years went by, Dolly carefully suggested to Fred that they get separate bedrooms, so that Dolly could get a proper night’s sleep and that Fred would not be able to wake her when he came home late from work or carousing at the bar. Gradually, the state of Dolly and Fred’s bed-death advanced to such a stage that, within a few years, Otto no longer had anything to be jealous about. 

The Queen of Los Angeles

As Otto Sanhuber whiled away his youth locked in an older woman’s attic, he continued to perfect his writing, enduring a number of rejections from book publishers and magazines. Eventually his efforts paid off, and a serialised story of his was published in a small periodical. This got Otto into the system as a writer, and he began to enjoy a regular publishing career in various magazines.

As the years wore on, Otto occasionally slipped up in his routine. Once Fred Oesterreich was in the backyard and spotted Otto moving past the attic window. Fred ran into the house to investigate, but fortunately Dolly managed to convince him he was tired and to let her go and look instead. Dolly came down, said there was nothing, and told Fred he was working too hard and he was seeing things. Dolly promptly marched Fred off to the doctor, who wrote out a prescription for tranquilisers. In a fortunate turn of events, these tranquilisers were so powerful they allowed Dolly to go up into the attic and use Otto as a human pogo-stick while her husband was passed out a few feet below them.

In 1917, the USA entered World War I. The 21 year old Otto Sanhuber would have been conscripted into the Army and packed off to die in Flanders if it weren’t for his clandestine career as an attic sex slave.  

In the same year, the Oesterreichs decided to move into a bigger house in Milwaukee. Dolly refused to move anywhere unless the new house had a decent-sized attic in which she could store her precious furs. When the time came to move, Otto was sent ahead with his desk, cot, and chamber pot, and was safely locked in the new attic in time for Dolly and Fred to arrive. Amorous activities then resumed as previously scheduled.

In 1918, Fred and Dolly went out for the evening to a party at a brewery. Fred predictably got drunk, quarreled with Dolly, and stormed off, abandoning his wife at the party. Fred went home, slamming the front door as he entered, and found Otto Sanhuber sat at the kitchen table, eating a leg of lamb. 

“Who the hell are you? What the hell do you think you are doing?” yelled a drunken Fred, grabbing hold of the young man. 

In a blind panic, Otto blurted out, “I’m really sorry, sir, I was just hungry.”  

After roughing him up a little, with many swears and threats shouted, Fred tossed Otto out onto the street, where the younger man spent an uncomfortable night sleeping outside in the cold. When Dolly returned home later that evening, Fred told her all about the intruder in the house. Dolly did not need to pretend to be shocked and horrified. She genuinely was. But then she hatched another brilliant plan.

The next day, Dolly met up with Otto. She gave him a bunch of money and told him to head to Los Angeles, where he should book himself into an inexpensive hotel. Once Otto arrived in LA, he got himself a job as a doorman at a posh apartment building to avoid going broke. Dolly and Otto continued to communicate by mail. Meanwhile, the mischievous Mrs. Oesterreich set about convincing her husband that they should move to LA. The couple had gone there on vacation a couple of times, and Fred Oesterreich had thoroughly enjoyed it. Fred also saw a potential market there for his manufacturing business. Within a few weeks, Fred Oesterreich was convinced, and the married couple began to make plans.

Otto Sanhuber, madly in love with Dolly (the woman who had taken his virginity, and who was his only human connection for over two years from 1916 to 1918) missed her desperately and achingly. Otto found it difficult to interact with people after such a long isolation, and disliked going out in the bright California sunlight. Once Otto received a letter from Dolly that the Oesterreichs were due to arrive in LA, he was overjoyed and eager to see Dolly again. To quote Otto himself, “I did not dare go to the train station to meet them. But I wanted to see them as soon as they arrived. So, I stood on the First Street Bridge and watched them get off the train from a distance.”

Dolly and Fred stayed at a posh Los Angeles hotel while they conducted their house-hunting, and while Fred set up his garment factory in the industrial district of the city. Dolly was, as usual, very discerning about what houses she would accept. Strangely enough, Dolly demanded that the house come with an attic, which is something of a rarity in Los Angeles. As the real estate search continued, Dolly and Otto met up at his cheap hotel as often as they could to ferociously paw at each other’s naughty bits before making the beast with two backs. 

Eventually, Dolly Oesterreich found a large two storey house on North St. Andrews Boulevard. The place came with an attic which could be accessed via the trunk room adjoining Dolly’s bedroom.  

Dolly alerted Otto, who moved into the attic with all his worldly possessions before Dolly and her husband arrived to take up residence in their new home. Then the routine resumed as per usual. Fred would go to work, Dolly and Otto would have sex. Fred would go out drinking, Dolly and Otto would have sex. Fred would pass out from heavy tranquilisers, Dolly and Otto would have sex. Mostly, they had sex in Dolly’s bedroom. Sometimes they would have sex in the living room, the kitchen, the den, the attic, the bath, and, for an extra thrill, on Fred Oesterreich’s bed. This carried on for four more years.

Dolly impressed her husband by refusing to hire a maid. She told Fred that she wanted to do the housework herself, as it was the only way it would get done properly. In reality, of course, Otto cleaned the house from top to bottom during the day while Dolly relaxed. And when Fred came home, Otto would retire to the attic where he worked on his latest short story.

Dolly continued to play a role as Fred’s dutiful and charismatic wife, propping up the curmudgeonly drunk, literally and figuratively, at social gatherings. She soon gained another nickname to join “Dolly.” People in high society began referring to the vivacious and daringly flirtatious woman as “The Queen of Los Angeles.” But as the years slipped by, Dolly and Fred’s relationship grew increasingly more toxic. They argued a lot. Often holding loud shouting matches in the living room once they arrived home.

And little did Fred Oesterreich know that this was exactly how and where he was going to die.

Death of a Cuckold

Mrs. C. A. Norton, resident of a large house on North St. Andrews Boulevard, awoke one night to the sound of smashing glass. After fully regaining consciousness, Mrs. Norton determined that the sound had come from the Oesterreichs’ house next door. It was nearly midnight, August 22nd, 1922. Shortly thereafter, Mrs. Norton heard a gunshot. At that point, Mrs. Norton was joined by her live-in lady friend and probable lover, Mrs. Rawson, who had also been woken up by the commotion, and the two stood in Mrs. Norton’s bedroom, peering from the window, listening for any further noise. They saw a man through the window walk across the Oesterreich’s living room and out of sight again. Immediately, two more shots were fired in quick succession. Then there was a ghastly silence.

Mrs. Rawson picked up the telephone and called the Oesterreichs. The two women could hear the phone ringing next door, but nobody picked up. At that point, Rawson and Norton threw on some clothes and went outside. There they were joined by half a dozen other concerned neighbours. One of them, Mr. J.W. Ashley had heard the gunfire and very sensibly called the police. Yet, without waiting for officers to arrive, the six neighbours burst into the Oesterreich home to investigate.

A few moments earlier, Dolly and Otto had stood over the lifeless corpse of Fred Oesterreich. They did not attempt to move it. They only had a few minutes before someone came to investigate the gunfire. Otto stammered that he had come downstairs with his pistols because he had heard Dolly and Fred’s extremely vicious argument, and worried that Fred might hurt her. Dolly said that she was not in danger, but what was done was done. Now, the more pressing question was, how did they intend to keep off California’s death row for murder?

Dolly and Otto in a split-second decided to stage the scene to look like a burglary gone wrong. Otto quickly grabbed Fred’s diamond-encrusted watch from his body, then grabbed Dolly by the hand and took her upstairs into her bedroom. There Otto grabbed some cash from Dolly’s beside table. All the while, they heard the phone ringing as Mrs. Rawson called from next door.

Otto pushed Dolly into the bedroom closet, locked her inside, and tossed the key into the corner of the room. Thereupon, Otto crawled back into the trunk room and sealed himself back in the attic. 

A few moments later, the concerned neighbours of North St. Andrews Boulevard burst through the front door. They found Fred Oesterreich’s body in a crumpled bloody heap under a chair in the corner of the living room. Then they heard Dolly’s muffled cries from upstairs, “Fred! Oh Fred!” The neighbours went into the bedroom and found Dolly locked in the closet, and after a moment’s search found the key lying a few feet away. They released Dolly Oesterreich and found her in a state of distress. She told them that she and her husband were the victims of an attempted robbery, and that Fred had been shot.

A few moments later the police arrived. Chief Inspector Herman Cline questioned Dolly Oesterreich about what happened. He immediately got a bad vibe from her.  In Cline’s opinion, she seemed a bit too dolled up for a married woman of 42, which Cline, with a holdover set of 19th century morals, found inappropriate. “Mutton dressed as lamb,” he thought. Also, Mrs. Oesterreich’s distress didn’t seem to fit a woman who had just been robbed and seen her husband murdered. She didn’t seem particularly shocked or grief-stricken. But all these things were just vibes and hunches.

The house had no sign of forced entry. Dolly replied that the burglar had forced his way through the front door when Fred opened it. Next, Cline had some standard questions that were necessary during a domestic murder, because whenever one happens the spouse is always the most likely suspect. He asked, “Did you and your husband ever quarrel?”

Dolly’s response was immediate and firm: “Never.”

The tone of this answer caught Cline off guard. Every married couple argues, he thought, no matter how blissfully compatible they think they are. So why would Dolly Oesterreich be so motivated to downplay any notion of a conflict between her and her husband of 25 years? Cline immediately knew that Dolly wasn’t telling the whole truth. Still, this was grasping at straws, and he knew it.

Cline tried to play bad cop for a bit, pouring skepticism on Dolly’s story about the robbery, trying to catch her out in some inconsistency or a lie. Dolly remained firm, emphatic, and stone-faced throughout her questioning. Cline would later describe Dolly as, quote, “The toughest dame I ever saw.”

When Cline and the other officers picked over the evidence at the scene, they found that Fred

Oesterreich’s diamond watch was missing, but that he still had a wallet stuffed with cash in his pocket. Aside from some cash Dolly claimed she kept in her bedroom, the burglar had taken nothing else of value in the house. 

When Fred’s autopsy report came back, the coroner said he had been killed by a .25-calibre pistol. This also struck Cline as all wrong. A burglar on the prowl wouldn’t depend on such a small, underpowered weapon. “That’s a lady’s gun,” he thought.  

Ultimately, however, police brought no charges against Dolly Oesterreich. The one thing that they could not answer was how Dolly could have killed her husband and then locked herself in the closet and thrown away the key. The closet essentially gave Dolly the perfect alibi. Little did they know that the answer to the mystery was hidden a few feet above them, scarcely daring to breathe, as small droplets of Fred Oesterreich’s blood still spattered his arms and face.

The Merry Widow

Otto and Dolly had just gotten away with covering up a murder. While Fred Oesterreich was not the most charming or effervescent fellow, and he almost certainly was a foul-tempered alcoholic, he did not deserve to be cheated on for all those years, to be humiliated behind his back by all who knew of Dolly’s affairs, and he definitely did not deserve to be murdered. There is no evidence that Fred was ever directly violent with Dolly, despite his alcoholism suggesting otherwise, and at the end of the day he worked hard and provided a comfortable life for his wife, no matter how much she irritated him. 

Should Dolly and Fred have remained married? Absolutely not. Fred was not a loving husband, and Dolly likely suffered from a compulsive psychiatric condition. But those were different times and marriages were viewed as much more than just the icing on the cake of male-female romance and cohabitation. They were legally binding business and family partnerships, property contracts sanctioned by God, and there was no such thing as a “no-fault divorce.” This promoted the exact opposite problem of today, with our sky-high divorce rates, and some of the flightier couples splitting up because they have a bad month or because hubby left the lid off the toothpaste too many times. In yesteryear, too many people stayed in marriages that made them absolutely miserable to the point of being heinously abused, and this ruined millions of lives that otherwise might have had a chance at happiness elsewhere.

But the answer to that problem was not to lock a teenager in your attic for 10 years and make him f*ck you eight times a day.

On the flip side, Otto and Dolly did not kill Fred Oesterreich with sinister or malicious intent. It was a rather explosive situation that got out of hand. Otto should not have come downstairs that night, and certainly should not have done so to threaten Fred with firearms. But he thought Dolly was in danger. And in the life-or-death struggle that ensued, we cannot know whether Fred would have killed Otto if he had gained the upper hand. In a fair legal system, Otto might have received lenient sentencing for what happened. But instead of coming clean, Fred died and Dolly lied. In addition to being guilty of what amounts to manslaughter, Otto and Dolly (who was at the very least an accessory to murder) were now perverting the course of justice.

At any rate, dear reader, Dolly was now freed from her 25 year marriage to Fred Oesterreich. The first order of business was to move to a smaller home on North Beachwood Drive. Dolly was hardly going to sip her morning coffee next to the corner where her husband had been killed. As before, Otto Sanhuber moved into the attic of the new house prior to Dolly’s arrival. Although Otto no longer had to hide in the attic to avoid detection by Dolly’s husband, it was too soon after the murder to arouse suspicion by coming and going freely. Or least that’s what Dolly told him. The only major change was that Otto began writing his short stories on a typewriter, rather than with pen and paper, because Fred was no longer around to hear the clacking of the device.

Yet Dolly did not remain faithful to Otto any more than she did Fred. When the merry widow settled Fred’s will and testament, she hired attorney Herman Shapiro. It was not long before Dolly and Shapiro were having sex while Otto was locked in the attic at home. Or, in modern Reddit parlance, the bull had become the cuck. After just a few months of seeing each other, Dolly presented Shapiro with her late husband’s diamond watch. “Here,” she said, “I want you to have this. It belonged to dear Fred.”

Shapiro eventually figured out that this watch was mentioned in police reports as having been stolen during the botched robbery. When Shapiro questioned Dolly, she claimed to have later found it in the front yard, with the burglar presumably dropping it as he escaped. Other accounts say she claimed that she found it under the seat cushions in the living room. Either way, Dolly was getting sloppy.

There was also the question of the two .25 calibre pistols. The murder weapons. In addition to banging her estate lawyer, Dolly took up with a man named Roy Klumb, a Hollywood film producer. She gave Klumb one of the pistols and asked him to dispose of it for her. Klumb devotedly did so, tossing the gun into the La Brea [bray-ah] Tar Pits. The tar pits are a natural phenomenon where oil made from ancient dead animals and micro-organisms seeps up through the ground to form pools. The La Brea tar pits are actually located in modern Los Angeles, not too far from where Dolly and Otto lived. Given the pits form a thick, sticky quagmire, it was actually a pretty clever place to dispose of a murder weapon.

Dolly gave the second pistol to a neighbour, one J. E. Farber, and asked him to get rid of it. The neighbour obligingly buried the gun in his rose garden. There is no allegation or evidence that Dolly was sleeping with Farber, and accounts go that she simply sweet-talked him, but at this point who knows?

In July of 1923, almost a year after Fred Oesterreich’s death, Roy Klumb found out that Dolly was also sleeping with her lawyer, Herman Shapiro. Enraged, Klumb marched into the police station and informed Chief Inspector Cline that Dolly had asked him to dispose of a .25 calibre pistol at the La Brea Tar Pits. Dolly was promptly detained and questioned about the murder of Fred Oesterreich. When the story hit the newspapers, an alarmed J.E. Farber went to the police and told them that Dolly had also asked him to bury a second pistol in his garden. 

Police went round to Farber’s house and found the gun, which had been dismantled into pieces, and buried underneath a rose bush. Additionally, by some miracle, and against all odds, police were also able to recover the other pistol within a few days of dredging the Tar Pits. The problem with both pieces of evidence is neither of them were in a condition to link them to Dolly Oesterreich. The “rose bush gun” was so rusted that ballistics could not be performed to tie it to the bullets that killed Fred, and the “tar pit gun” was similarly corroded by spending months in a sticky cocktail of petroleum-based chemicals. The signature grooves that a gun leaves on a bullet as it exits the barrel could not be matched to the guns themselves, because the barrels had been so thoroughly degraded.

That left the testimony of Klumb and Farber that Dolly had asked them to get rid of the weapons. Under questioning, Dolly said, “Certainly, I gave these men the guns to dispose of. The weapons had been around the house for a long time. I had not been aware of their presence until I chanced to discover them among my late husband’s effects. Knowing that I was under suspicion and that the presence of the guns would result in more annoyance from the police, I asked the men to take them away where they would never be seen again.”

Meanwhile, under questioning, a nervous Herman Shapiro let slip that Dolly had given him Fred’s diamond watch, which she had told police the thief had stolen the night of Fred’s murder. When questioned about it, Dolly simply said, “I’ve never seen that watch before.”  

Chief Inspector Cline stubbornly took a trip to Milwaukee, where he canvassed jewelry stores and watchmakers, until he found the place that sold the watch to Fred Oesterreich. Having proved that Dolly was lying, Cline had her arrested for first-degree murder.

At her arraignment, the judge initially determined that Dolly should be held without bail until trial. A month later, in August 1923, Dolly’s criminal defense lawyers appeared before the court and argued that she should be freed on account of her health. She had allegedly become deathly ill while in prison. Dolly paid a $50,000 bond, an exorbitant amount of money in those days, and was released pending trial.

Inspector Cline spent the next year and a half trying to build enough evidence the convict Dolly of murder, but he simply didn’t have enough and he could not adequately explain how Dolly had locked herself in the closet. And there was also no clear indication that Dolly had an accomplice who had been present that evening. In early 1925, the Assistant District Attorney formally dismissed the murder charge against Dolly Oesterreich. 

The merry widow was free. And it began to look like Fred Oesterreich’s killer would never be caught.

A Lawyer Scorned

Soon after Dolly was arrested and thrown in prison in July 1923, Otto Sanhuber fled her attic and left Los Angeles behind him, his 10 year relationship with Dolly effectively being over. There does not seem to have been any animosity between the pair, but with an active police investigation into Dolly Oesterreich, neither of them wanted to risk Otto being discovered should Dolly’s house get searched. And so, Otto disappeared in a puff of smoke. 

Dolly’s estate lawyer, Herman Shapiro, promptly moved in with her at North Beachwood Drive when she was released in August 1923. Dolly was even kind enough not to lock Shapiro in the attic.

And that is how things rested for several years. LA high society was split down the middle about the scandal. Some people suspected Dolly of murdering her husband, some even suspected Shapiro had something to do with it, and they were not satisfied that the charges were dropped due to lack of evidence. Others remained friendly to Dolly, given she was a cheerful and bubbly woman, who would never harm a fly, and she had been locked in the closet on the night of the murder. In short, Dolly became a scintillating and controversial figure, and the occasional target for tabloid gossip.

Meanwhile, Dolly and Shapiro got on like a house on fire, with Dolly satiating her lust with him as often as she could. Unfortunately, Shapiro had to work in the office at least 40 hours a week. He could not possibly muster the time, much less the stamina, to service Dolly eight times a day like Otto did. As a result, Dolly supplemented her robust diet with the appendages of other gentlemen. 

In 1928, Dolly Oesterreich was sued by a woman, Mrs. R. Hedrick, for $300,000 in damages for having an affair with her husband, in what was then called an “alienation suit.” Dolly was effectively being sued for breaking up a marriage. Herman Shapiro was none too impressed to find out that Dolly had been unfaithful to him. But the couple managed to patch things up for a while. 

Then, in 1930, after Dolly had humiliated Shapiro with a further string of lovers, he furiously marched into the police station, just like Roy Klumb before him, in order to exact his revenge. And, in the event, Shapiro told police a very interesting story…

Back in 1923, the day after Dolly Oesterreich had been arrested on suspicion of first degree murder, she was able to meet with Herman Shapiro in his capacity as legal counsel. Dolly said in a low whisper that her, quote, “vagabond half-brother” was hiding in the attic at North Beachwood Drive. 

She implored Shapiro to go to her house, enter the closet, and tap on the wall. That way Otto Sanhuber would know it was safe to come out of the attic. And then Shapiro could give Otto some food and let him know what was going on. Dolly assured Shapiro that her “half-brother” Otto was innocent of all wrongdoing, but that it would not be a good look if he should be discovered by the police. 

Shapiro promptly headed over to Dolly’s house, and instead of tapping on the wall, gave a whistle till Otto Sanhuber removed the wood panel and poked his head out just above the hat shelf. Shapiro gave Otto some food, brought him up to speed about Dolly’s arrest, and then lost no time exploring Otto’s room in the attic, while questioning the strange man. Unlike Dolly, Otto Sanhuber did not lie. He explained that he had been Dolly’s lover for the past decade and that he lived in the attic. Eventually, when pressed, Otto explained to Shapiro that he had murdered Fred Oesterreich in an attempt to shield Dolly from domestic abuse. 

Shapiro advised Otto that it was not safe for him to remain in the attic, lest he be discovered by police, and told Otto to clear out his stuff and leave. Otto complied. Shapiro took him to San Francisco, where he got Otto a job as a janitor. In order to be doubly safe, Otto adopted the alias “Walter Klein.” In 1924, Otto relocated to Portland Oregon, where he met his future wife, a French-Canadian stenographer named Mathilde. Otto did not tell Mathilde about his past. From there, the couple moved to Vancouver, Canada, where Otto got a job as a hotel porter. In 1927, assuming the coast was clear, Otto and Mathilde returned to Los Angeles, where again Otto found employment as a porter. 

It is unknown whether Otto tried to contact Dolly Oesterreich after his return to LA. But given his previous devotion to the woman and the fact there was no other reason in particular for Otto to come back to that city, I personally deem it likely that Otto contacted Dolly, and possibly even reignited their affair while she was already cheating on Shapiro with several other men.  

Either way, in 1930 Shapiro found out that Otto was back, and informed police as to his whereabouts. Otto was promptly located and placed under arrest, later being charged with the manslaughter of Fred Oesterreich. Dolly was also arrested on the charge of conspiracy to commit murder. 

Having Sex with Batman

Due to the delicious combination of murder, sex, and insanity, the newspapers had a field day. Because of the 10 years Otto Sanhuber spent in Dolly’s attic, the papers referred to him as “The Bat Man”, a full nine years before his comic book equivalent was invented by DC Comics. 

Faced with a manslaughter charge, when he had already confessed his crime to a witness, namely Shapiro, Otto Sanhuber pleaded not guilty by reason of insanity. His defense argued that Otto had fallen under the spell of an older woman at the young age of 17, he had been locked in an attic for 10 years, and this isolation had compromised his mental health and judgement. The defense also highlighted the sexual rigors to which Sanhuber was subjected by Dolly Oesterreich over that decade, with Sanhuber characterising himself as quote, “a sex slave.” Sanhuber also claimed that he really had no recourse when it came to protesting his treatment by Dolly Oesterreich. The best he could do, he claimed, was refuse to eat the food she brought him. And because this would worry Dolly, she would eventually relent on whatever they had been arguing over. In short, Otto had very little power over the course of their relationship, since breaking up would mean being thrown out on the street penniless and alone. 

Otto also claimed that most of their arguments were over the extent and frequency with which Dolly demanded sex. Allegedly, when Otto did not perform as expected, Dolly would lock him in the attic and refuse to let him out to exercise, even when Fred was not at home, until, to quote Otto, “I behaved myself and gave her what she wanted.”

Ultimately, the jury convicted Otto Sanhuber of the manslaughter of Fred Oesterreich. By a stroke of luck, however, the statute of limitations on manslaughter had expired in Sanhuber’s case the year before, in 1929. And so, Otto walked free without facing jail time for killing a man.

Dolly Oesterreich, on the other hand, faced a much greater uphill battle for the charge of conspiracy. She had on multiple occasions concealed evidence and lied to the police. She had included numerous additional witnesses in the conspiracy, making them complicit in her crimes. Nevertheless, Dolly’s immense wealth got her the best legal representation that money could buy. The defense argued that there was not enough evidence to prove that Dolly was in any way complicit in Fred’s murder or in Otto’s actions. The defense argued that Dolly’s attempt to dispose of a couple of guns, her gifting a watch to Shapiro, and her keeping a man in her attic were all circumstantial. 

The arguments were thin, but apparently her attorney said them with gusto. Her trial resulted in a hung jury. Most of the jurors wanted to acquit her, with the remaining minority refusing to change their guilty verdicts. After several more years, in 1936, the conspiracy charge against Dolly was thrown out. 

After his release from prison, Otto Sanhuber disappeared into obscurity, never to be heard from again. According to one report, his wife, Mathilde, stood by him, evidently understanding that what Dolly did to him was tantamount to prolonged psychological abuse. 

Dolly Oesterreich went on to be a lively and scandalous member of LA society. But she was not admired as she was before. Instead, she became something of a circus attraction for people wanting to simply claim that they knew her. Dolly gradually exhausted the vast sums of money she had inherited from her husband, much of which was lost in the stock market crash of 1929. By 1958, Dolly’s fortunes had declined to the extent that she was reduced to living above a garage in a sketchy part of LA, her lifestyle deteriorating alongside the once posh neighbourhoods that she had called home.

Speaking of deterioration, as Dolly advanced in age, her looks faded, her skin grew wrinkled and coarse, and her figure became matronly, sagging, and lumpy. She no longer was able to attract the parade of willing young men that she had previously enjoyed to the full. Evidently, Dolly rekindled her relationship with Ray Bert Hedrick, whose wife had sued her for breaking up their marriage a few years prior. They maintained a romantic and sexual relationship for over 30 years. And Dolly married Hedrick two weeks before she died, aged 80, on April 8th 1961. 

According to some accounts, Dolly even managed to remain faithful to Ray Hedrick, having finally managed to suppress her enormous sexual appetites. But, where Dolly Oesterreich is concerned, nobody can know for certain whether she had other lovers, or, indeed, where she was hiding them.

Dismembered Appendices

  1. The story of Walburga “Dolly” Oesterrich inspired the 1968 British comedy film “The Bliss of Mrs. Blossom” starring Richard Attenborough and Shirley MacLaine, in which the poor cuckolded husband is not murdered and everyone gets a happy ending. The story also inspired a 1995 TV movie “Man in the Attic” starring Neil Patrick Harris during the Dark Ages of his career, and a 2018 movie “Lover in the Attic” starring Molly Burnett.  
  2. Although Herman Shapiro suppressed the knowledge of Otto Sanhuber’s existence for 7 years, in exchange for his affidavit, Shapiro was never brought up on charges as an accessory to murder. And the douchebag only came clean because of his sore feelings for being cheated on. He was not the most honest lawyer, it seems.
  3. In addition to her many sexual exploits, it has been alleged that from 1897 to 1925 that Dolly Oesterreich underwent several dozen abortions, which were illegal at the time and posed a high risk to her health.
  4. When Dolly was smitten by a 17 year old Otto Sanhuber back in 1913, having recently lost her own teenage son, she was experiencing a spell of “ephebophilia” [ep-heb-oh-philia] which denotes the sexual attraction to teenagers in mid-to-late puberty, and she was also likely undergoing a reverse Oedipal complex.
  5. The North St. Andrews Boulevard residence where Fred Oesterreich was murdered, later renamed Lafayette Park Place, was demolished in 1986 to make way for a block of flats. Today, as mentioned in the introduction, the neighbourhood is a rather grim area bearing little resemblance to the opulence of the 1920s. The apartment building itself has nine units. One of them, as a charming coincidence, is located in the attic.
  6. Couples in their twenties have sex an average of 2 times per week. Older couples have sex an average of 1 time per week. Couples in their sixties have sex an average 1-2 times per month. Dolly Oesterreich and Otto Sanhuber were having sex up to 56 times a week, or a maximum of 2912 times per year, though given what estimates Otto provided in his testimony it is more likely he and Dolly were having sex between 700 and 1400 times per year. That is still multiple times a day, on most days of the week, for over a decade.
  7. The health risks of excessive sex with a single partner (excluding STIs) include friction burns, bruises, soreness, swelling, dehydration, lower back pain, nerve injury, erectile dysfunction, vaginal tearing, pulled muscles, hair loss due to increased levels of DHT in the body, a weakened immune system, heart attack, and a fractured penis.

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