The Canoe Con | El Dorado | 2
45:39 Share

Alyssa Moe? That's a new one. Mateo? That kind of works. We should save this in case we do a European scandal. Yes, okay, bank it. Now what would you say the most stressful thing you could do as a couple is? Famously they say moving house, very stressful. I guess divorce, not ideal. Having a baby?

Okay, where would you put in a chart, pretending that your husband's dead, lying to your children about that, and then have him secretly live next door and not tell anyone? It's a good one, isn't it? It's top ten. Yes. Yeah, I would say it was top ten. Week after week. Top one, maybe. If you think this is stressful, I have to warn you, the stress levels are not going to abate in this episode. Oh, good. Let's get cracking. It's September 2002, Seton Carew.

Anne Darwin steps outside her house at number 3 The Cliff. A group of reporters and photographers are setting up on her gravel drive. It's six months now since her husband went missing at sea. Over that time she's had numerous calls from journalists wanting to run her story. She's rejected them all. She's been too terrified of making a mistake. But now she's standing in front of her house, preparing to read out a press statement. And she needs to sound convincing.

Four weeks ago, her police liaison officer, DC Ian Burnham, rang her with the news. The body of a man had been found off the coast of Hartlepool. I'm sorry, Anne, but it's not John. Anne did her best to sound upset. I wish it was him. At least I could have laid him to rest. DC Burnham suggested she make an appeal for fresh witnesses. It'll be painful for you, Anne, but it might jog someone's memory. So she'd gone to the police station and drafted her appeal.

She's rehearsed it this morning in front of the bathroom mirror, but now all eyes are on her and she's shaking. She tucks her grey hair behind her ears, steps forward. The cameras start clicking. The nightmare of John's disappearance is ongoing. The view from my window is a daily reminder. This was to be the house of our dreams and I've just got to look out and not dwell on the tragedy. All I want is to bury his body. It would enable me to move on.

She looks up again. The small crowd stare back. I have no reason to think John would have staged managed this disappearance. I'm sure he must have met with an unfortunate accident in the sea and died. No one was thinking that till you said it. Yeah, why would you say that? Why would you say that? I mean, he hasn't faked his own death or anything. I have no reason to believe he's living next door. I mean, I'm sure he's literally dead.

This time, when she looks up, her eyes are full of tears. The cameras click. This is the shot they wanted. The next day, the local paper carries a photo of Anne looking heartbroken. She's on the evening TV news. A neighbour calls round with flowers. At work, her colleagues are full of sympathy. They share their own stories of how to deal with loss. Her friends offer to stay over to keep her company. "I'm fine, and I've still got the dogs. They're such a comfort."

That night in bed, John cuddles her. Oh, that gave me a shiver, genuinely. This is so dark. You forgot he was alive. He nuzzles into her neck. You did a good job. She pushes him away, stares at him hard. When is this ever going to end? My dad works in B2B marketing. He came by my school for career day and said he was a big ROAS man. Then he told everyone how much he loved calculating his return on ad spend.

My friend's still laughing at me to this day. Not everyone gets B2B, but with LinkedIn, you'll be able to reach people who do. Get $100 credit on your next ad campaign. Go to linkedin.com slash results to claim your credit. That's linkedin.com slash results. Terms and conditions apply. LinkedIn, the place to be, to be.

As summer winds down, let your imagination soar by listening on Audible. Whether you listen to stories, motivation, expert advice, any genre you love, you can be inspired to imagine new worlds, new possibilities, new ways of thinking. With Audible, there's more to imagine when you listen.

And speaking of listening, you can listen to the best-selling science fiction thriller Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir right now on the Audible app and traverse the galaxy in a desperate last-chance mission along with astronaut Ryland Grace, all from the comfort of your living room.

As an Audible member, you choose one title a month to keep from their entire catalogue. New members can try Audible free for 30 days. Visit audible.com slash WonderyPod or text WonderyPod to 500-500. That's audible.com slash WonderyPod or text WonderyPod to 500-500. From Wondery, I'm Matt Ford. And I'm Alice Levine. And this is British Scandal.

So Alice, last episode we entered the weird and crazy world of John and Anne Darwin. What do you make of it? What a pair. What a couple. So as I remember it then, John Darwin was in a lot of debt and came up with this madcap scheme that he sold his wife Anne on, well, almost sold her on, to fake his own death in a canoe accident and then claim on the insurance. And then all of their problems were going to go away. It's simple. I don't know why more people don't do it.

But then he would have to go underground, so to speak, go hide in the attic for a little while, lie to their two kids who weren't in on it, and then just sort of look forward to a brand new life. Yes, and there was a risk that the plan might not even work. They didn't check the small print, so without a body, they couldn't even claim on the insurance anyway. So it was all for nothing. Or was it? This is episode two, El Dorado.

It's January 2003. Number three: the cliff. Anne Darwin pulls up on the gravel drive outside her house, opens her boot, unloads her shopping. She's bought John a selection of ready meals for his microwave at number four. She's got enough to fill his freezer. She's about to head inside when she notices a car parked across the road. The man inside is watching her. He's got a camera. A few minutes later, she looks out of the living room window. The car's still there.

We have to rename the kissing cupboard. What would you like to call it? The cupboard. A cupboard. A snogging cupboard? It's because it feels like it's even more euphemistic. It feels like something else happens in the cupboard. We're being watched. John creeps into the living room, edges the curtain back on the bay window. Could be the insurance company or undercover police. She slumps into an armchair, puts her head in her hands...

A few months ago, she'd made a claim on John's life insurance. But the insurance company had written back saying they couldn't make a payment. Not without a body. They needed to see a death certificate. Her only chance was to convince a coroner to hold an inquest and declare her husband dead. Anne had written straight away to the local coroner in nearby Hartlepool, Malcolm Donnelly. He wrote back quickly:

In the case of missing persons, any request for an inquest must be personally sanctioned by the Home Secretary. And that could only happen when the police have exhausted every other line of inquiry. Her chances were slim. I'm afraid only a handful of cases a year get through. She gets to her feet, looks back at the car outside. It's still there. She closes the curtains. She checks again a few minutes later. The car's gone. John smiles at her.

You worry too much. Careful, John. Really pick your words carefully. Yeah, you don't worry enough, John. That's the problem. She stands in front of him, folds her arms. You need to stay hidden. Next day, she buys net curtains for number three and for the attic room in number four.

It's an expense you could do without, but she can't take the chance of John being seen in either house. She keeps him stocked with ready meals, buys him a pile of novels from a charity shop. It's the perfect retirement. I mean, he could eat something other than ready meals, surely. Well, he can be cooking all he wants, can't he? Nobody's seeing him cooking. And also, what's more of a giveaway? Ding! I would say that, probably, than just eating something up on the hob. Is there anybody next door? No. Ding! Ding!

For the next few days, she keeps an eye out for the car, watches to see if anyone is following her from the shops or from work. After two weeks, the car stops coming. She tells John it's safe to come out of the attic and back into the house. The car might have gone, but her debt hasn't. She's managed to freeze the interest on some of the cards and loans, but the bills keep coming in. We need that inquest. Keep pushing the police, then they can push the coroner.

So she rings DC Burnham, her family liaison officer. Puts on a teary voice. I'm really struggling to pay my bills. I've lost John. I don't want to lose my house too. I need an inquest. She rings him several times over the next few weeks. Until I get an inquest, my life is in limbo. But still, nothing happens.

This is not a great advert for faking your husband's death. If you were thinking about it and you heard this episode, you'd be like, I'm just not going to do it. It just sounds like a faff. Absolutely. A cautionary tale to all you would-be death fakers. We at British Scandal say don't bother. A few weeks later, she's coming back from work when John rushes up. His eyes are gleaming. He's holding an envelope from the coroner's office. She tears it open, scans the page, grins at John.

Their request has been accepted. A date for a hearing has been set. April 10th. She hugs him. It's April the 10th, 2003. Anne Darwin makes her way up the concrete steps to Hartlepool Magistrates Court. The red brick building is solid and imposing. Its small windows make it look like a modern fortress. Her sons, Mark and Anthony, are waiting for her at the main door. They fidget nervously. They're wearing their best suits.

They hug her. They both look tired. Her youngest son, Anthony, is especially pale, and he's lost weight. He was supposed to be getting married this Saturday to his fiancée Louise, but he's postponed the wedding to be here. The boys' stuff, the sons' stuff, it gets me. It gets me so bad. Well, cos they're completely innocent in all this. It's more important I'm supporting you, ma'am. They've put the wedding back to September so she can come. I need you with me on my big day. It's going to be so hard without Dad there.

She walks into the coroner's court. The room hushes. She sits down, starts to tremble. Mark reaches over and squeezes her hand tight. It'll be over soon, ma'am. Try not to worry. She nods, but she's terrified. When she'd first got the coroner's letter, she'd been relieved. But as the date got closer, she grew more tense. She's been arguing with John every day for the past month.

I'm the one out there telling lies all the time. All you do is hide in that stupid room. Every day is a nightmare for me. She's terrified of giving evidence under oath. If they make her swear on the Bible, she'll have to tell the truth. She hasn't been to church much recently. Last time she attended Catholic Mass, she couldn't look anyone in the eye. But now she knits her fingers together, bows her head, and silently prays that no one cross-examines her.

Eventually, a police officer takes the stand. He describes the events of John's disappearance. He outlines four possibilities. The first is that John Darwin has staged the whole thing. Her heart thumps. Her eyes dart around the courtroom. An extensive search of the house revealed nothing to suggest this was the case. Mr Darwin's passport and credit cards were all left at home. There has been no activity on any of his cards since his disappearance.

The officer moves on to the second possibility. That he's next door enjoying a rather delicious mac and cheese. Something called a kissing cupboard, Your Honour. Well, actually, it's a different possibility that the police officer outlines. That Mr Darwin committed suicide. From all accounts, Mr Darwin was happily married. We have no reason to suspect he took his own life. The third possibility is death at the hands of persons unknown.

But there's nothing to link anyone else with his disappearance. Can we stop listing everything that they've discounted? One possibility is he was involved in quite an extensive drugs cartel. We've found no evidence to that effect. The fourth possibility is that he met his death in an accident. Mark reaches out and grips his mum's hand. Angina tablets belonging to Mr Darwin were found as part of a house search. He concludes, It's most likely Mr Darwin got into trouble in the kayak and drowned.

Eventually, the coroner, Mr Donnelly, gives his verdict. He declares John Ronald Darwin missing, presumed dead, and lets herself relax. She's been listening to everyone discuss John's disappearance for hours, but the nightmare is finally over. She hasn't had to lie under oath. She sits back, takes in the relief. She's now officially a widow. Party time. She can't wait to tell John the good news.

As soon as she gets the death certificate, she can claim the insurance money. They can finally pay all their debts and start their new life together. She turns to her sons, but they're both holding each other, sobbing. The inquest has killed their hopes of finding their dad alive. Mark hugs her tightly. He clings to her for ages. When he finally lets go, his eyes are raw with grief. At least you can move on now, ma'am.

Three months later, August 2003, Hartlepool. John Darwin dials through various radio stations. He settles back and enjoys the music. He's with Anne in their car. They've been driving round Hartlepool all morning. He wants to show her all the properties they own. This guy is crackers. Where's his sense that he is a fugitive? Now that the inquest is over, he's determined to organise their finances.

There's 12 in total. Some have tenants, some don't. We can sell the empty ones straight away. They turn into a street of small terraced houses. Some are boarded up. He points to one with a blue blanket pinned at the window. The paint peels off the frame. Slow down. This one's ours on the left. He spots one of his tenants coming out of the house. John pulls down his woolen hat. He can't risk being seen now. Keep driving! But she's stalled the car.

Go! Just go! I'm trying! Female drivers, am I right? She's on the verge of tears. He glances at the house. The tenant's gone. He tries to calm Anne down, but she tells him she's had enough. She's exhausted. What's the point telling me where everything is? I've never sold a house in my life. You've always done everything. They drive home in silence. Later that night, he hands her a glass of wine. Sure, that'll solve it. Romeo's here.

He reminds her their plan is finally coming together. Since the coroner's verdict, they've managed to claim £90,867 from his pension and life insurance, plus £137,000 mortgage insurance. When they've sold all their properties, they'll be wealthy.

This is the easy bit. Everything's going great. I'm a genius. John, a word outside. He tells her when they've sold everything, they can start buying up property again. This time, we'll build up a decent portfolio. Anne stares at him, open mouthed. That's how we got into this mess. I know what I'm doing now. Don't worry. Leave it all to me.

Hey, I'm Ryan Reynolds. At Mint Mobile, we like to do the opposite of what Big Wireless does. They charge you a lot, we charge you a little. So naturally, when they announced they'd be raising their prices due to inflation, we decided to deflate our prices due to not hating you.

That's right. We're cutting the price of Mint Unlimited from $30 a month to just $15 a month. Give it a try at mintmobile.com slash switch. $45 upfront for three months plus taxes and fees. Promo rate for new customers for a limited time. Unlimited more than 40 gigabytes per month. Slows. Full terms at mintmobile.com. Want to teach your kids financial literacy, but not sure where to start? Greenlight can help.

With Greenlight, parents can keep an eye on kids' spending and saving, while kids and teens use a card of their own to build money confidence. As a parent, you can send instant money transfers, set up chores, automate allowance, and more. It's a convenient way to run your household, customized to your family's needs, and the easy way to raise financially smart kids. Get started with Greenlight today and get your first month free at greenlight.com slash wondery.

If this isn't raising red flags for Anne, I really worry for her. That night, in his attic room, he sits in front of his computer. He hasn't told Anne he's already got a secret property deal bubbling away. Oh, God. For the past six months, he's been chatting with a woman called Kelly Steele from Kansas. They play together in a game called EverQuest. LAUGHTER

Good. Like all the cool people do. It all checks out. I would sign your life away. He used to play another game called Asheron's Call and anonymously chat with his sons. Like a kind of Call of Duty thing where he'd log on...

and his sons wouldn't know it's him but he'd know it was them? Yeah. That is so sinister! Yeah, it's really bleak. But John prefers Everquest. His character is a magical druid called Sedrum who can teleport to different zones and dimensions. He just has a grip on reality and that's what I like about John. Yeah, oddly his life in the game is more logical and sound than his life in the real world. He's told Kelly that his wife has recently died of cancer and that he's lonely.

I want to buy a ranch in the US. It's always been my dream. And now Kelly's found the ideal place for him. It's a large farm in Kincade, Kansas with eight acres of land. It's very remote. Needs a lot of work. Sounds perfect. A few days later, he's in the kitchen with Anne. Oh, forgot to say, I need an allowance of £30,000. Cash? What on earth do you need that for? Contingency fund, just in case I need to disappear.

He sends the money straight to Kelly and they exchange emails. The property will be in my name, but you can run it and live there rent free. Great. I'll snap it up now. A couple of days later, he logs on. Good news, John. You now own a ranch. I know I shouldn't be, but I'm quite excited. Yeah, like a ranch sounds pretty cool. It'd be quite nice to spend time on a ranch. A few days later.

John Darwin twists a piece of paper in his hands. It's a birth certificate. He spent weeks rubbing it into the carpet to make it look old. He dabs a teabag on it now and then and lets it dry. He needs it to look old for his passport application. A few months ago, he read The Day of the Jackal by Frederick Forsyth.

It gave him the idea of getting a new identity from the birth certificate of a dead child. He managed to find records of a child called John Jones, who'd been born in 1950, the same year as him. The fact he was also called John was a bonus. Lovely little bonus when you're stealing a dead kid's identity. Next morning, he checks to see if the tea stains on the John Jones birth certificate have worked. It looks good. He puts it in his pocket.

He puts on his disguise of dark glasses and woolly hat. With a prosthetic nose attached. And a plastic moustache. Grabs his walking stick and heads to the library. The librarian smiles when she sees him. He's a frequent visitor. He chats with her, then asks her to sign his passport form. She looks at the photos and at him. She studies him for a few seconds, then signs everything.

He limps home with his stick. He can't wait to tell Anne he's fooled everyone yet again. It won't be long now till he can go to Kansas and visit his ranch and finally meet Kelly.

Despite clearly being a fantasist, he has actually kind of fulfilled the plan. He's got the money. He's investing in other properties. He is sort of laying the groundwork for the new life that he intended. Yeah, I mean, we laugh about him, but they fooled the police, the courts, a judge, an insurance company. Got a ton of cash. Actually, are they the good guys? He fumbles for his keys, lets himself into number four.

He's making his way up the narrow steps to his attic room when a door opens. It's one of his tenants, a young guy called Lee Wadrop. He bends double so Lee can't see his face and shuffles up the stairs to his room. But Lee calls after him. Aren't you supposed to be dead? Are you joking? He freezes, turns to face Lee, walks right up to him. He's inches from his face. Don't tell anyone about this. Understand? Understand?

Shit! Are you kidding me? No. It's June 2004. John Darwin's on a flight to Kansas. He reclines in his seat, closes his eyes. The past few months have been stressful. The police told Anne her husband had been spotted near their house. He suspected Lee Wadrop had tipped them off, but Lee swore it wasn't him. Whatever you're up to, mate, I don't want to get involved.

He later found out a former colleague from the prison had seen him in the street and gone to the police. Anne had managed to convince them it was mistaken identity. Oh, there's holes in the bucket, aren't there? It's a leaking. John's cousin came to visit. There's a strong family resemblance. It's all a bit close. John tells Anne he needs to lie low for a while. Yeah, because he's going for his daily stroll around town. I'll go abroad, just for a few weeks, till things settle down.

It's the perfect excuse for him to visit Kelly and the ranch. I don't like how he's talking about Kelly. How do you mean? I don't know, Kelly this, Kelly that. A bit too keen on her, you think? A bit too keen on Kelly. Kelly's been working on the ranch for months now. The farmhouse should be nearly finished. He sent her some old photos of himself when he was thinner with more hair. Look out for me in arrivals. He passes through customs, scans the crowd of waiting people.

After a few minutes, he spots Kelly. She waves, pushes her way over to him. Good to meet you at last, John. She's got a friendly face and dark wavy hair. She introduces her family. These are my kids. This is my nephew. He nods, but his eyes dart around the airport. Even here, he needs to check he's not being followed. Kelly leads him to her car, drives him down the highway, past out-of-town motels and diners.

They skirt past the city, then eventually hit open countryside. He stares out of the window. It couldn't be any more different to the northeast of England. Right now, Kansas looks like the perfect place to hide. A couple of days later, Kelly takes him from her home in Ruskin Heights out to Kincade to see the ranch. What do you think? His narrow eyes scan the farmhouse.

He's horrified. It's a run-down mess. It'll cost a fortune to do up. He'd expected her to finish all the work by now. You've hardly started. Jan, I did tell you it needed a lot of work. That night, he refuses to talk to Kelly or her family. Awkward. After a couple of days, she asks him to leave her house. OK, abandon the theory about the romance. My husband's going to drive you to a motel, Jan. We've paid your bill for the week.

That night, he paces in his room. He wants his money back. Next day, he goes to see a solicitor. But the solicitor tells him Kelly Steele has done what he asked. He has no case against her. He's furious. He books a flight home. He spends the next few days hiding in the attic. But he can't stop thinking about the money. He's determined to get it back.

He emails her that he knows people in the mafia who can kill her and her kids. Whoa, that escalated very quickly. Yeah, he could just say, please. Oh, I'm really disappointed. Rather than going full Sopranos. Things will happen and continue to happen unless you repay all my money. Check your car brakes. Let the nightmare begin. The next day, he emails Kelly and tells her she'll wake up with a horse's head on your pillow.

For the next few weeks, he sends several emails a day. "I've sent people to pay you a visit. I want my money." Then he gets a reply. "I've reported you to the FBI. They have copies of all your threatening emails. Back off." His Kansas dreams are over. His money is gone. And now he has to tell Anne he's lost £30,000 of their money.

Yeah, this sounds familiar. A few days later, three, the cliff. John Darwin walks up and down the beach outside his house. It's five in the morning and he hasn't slept.

Since he got back from the States, Anne has hardly spoken to him. Deserved, I'd say. I heard you flirting with that woman on that stupid game. I know that's why you went there. He keeps denying it, but she won't listen. He needs to tell her about the money. She doesn't know about the money yet? Nope. Anne is going to be livid. An hour later, he sits on the side of their bed.

You'd wish she was having an affair, wouldn't you? I have lied to everyone for that money and you've given 30 grand to some woman in Kansas? How could you?!

He tells her he's sorry, begs her to forgive him. From now on, you don't spend one single penny unless I say so. Things are tense for ages. He needs to find somewhere for them to live away from the stress. They've been talking about living abroad for years now. He needs to make it happen. A few months later, he's found the perfect solution. That makes my blood run cold. It's a 60-foot 1970s catamaran called Solaris 42. LAUGHTER

What could go wrong? Buy it in cash and don't get a receipt because there's going to be nothing wrong with this plan. It's on sale for £45,000. It's in Gibraltar. He rushes to tell Anne. If I know Anne, and I think I do, she's going to be absolutely thrilled. We can sail wherever we want. Nobody will find us at sea. We'll be free. He needs £1,000 for the deposit, but Anne won't pay it.

You don't know anything about boats and I can't swim. And you died last time you went out in the sea. He works on her for the next few weeks, draws up a spreadsheet with the costs, shows her all the glamorous places they could sail to. Eventually, she relents. But when he's paid the deposit, the owner's family want to take a barometer from the boat. He's furious. He calls the deal off and he's lost the deposit. Eventually, he has to tell Anne.

Why do you keep giving our money to strangers? She locks him back in his room and doesn't speak to him for weeks. He spends his time researching places that are sunny, with low expat populations and even lower property prices. Somewhere he can invest their money safely. Three months later, he rings her at the surgery. I told you not to ring me here. But he's excited. He's found the perfect place. Panama. I've got a bit of a stress headache.

The 14th of July, 2006. Panama City. Anne Darwin sits at a cafe bar and sips a fruit juice. She's been in Panama City with John for two days now. The heat is killing her. Driving in this traffic is terrifying and she can hardly speak a word of Spanish. But she feels relaxed here.

That just tells you so much about Anne's state of mind, that being somewhere where she hates the heat, she's petrified of the cars. She's basically not having a very good time, but she is having a juice. So she's like, this is a great holiday. It's a fantastic trip. That's what John's done to her. She leans back, watches the brightly coloured birds pecking crumbs off a nearby table. It's the first time in years she hasn't had to lie to anyone. If she can find the right apartment, she's sure she could settle here. She flicks through a property brochure.

She needs somewhere big enough for the boys to stay with her when they visit. Somewhere close to the shops and a church. But there's nothing she likes. Half an hour later, she walks into a relocation and land agency company. A dark-haired man in a striped shirt smiles and introduces himself. He's the head of the company. "Mario Villa. Pleased to meet you, Anne." She introduces John.

This is John Jones, my new partner. So when she was saying she hasn't had to lie to anybody for ages, she made it the two days? Two days is long for these guys. She tells Mario she's a widow. She lets her eyes drop as if the grief is still with her. She now knows how to say just enough so that people don't ask any more questions. She can see John fidgeting by her side, so she moves on to business. She needs help finding a large apartment in the city.

And a green site for my ecotourism business. Somewhere near water for sports activities and enough land for holiday accommodation. Jesus, Anne. Big plans, Anne. Big plans. She's been in the shadows for too long. Mario guides her to a desk and shows her pictures of the kind of property she could buy. The city apartments are spacious and elegant. She's surprised she can afford so much. He tells her buying land for her ecotourism business won't be a problem either.

I will ask our real estate agent to contact you soon with the perfect place. They shake hands. Just as she's about to leave, the door opens. A dark-haired woman comes in. This is my wife, Karina.

Karina points a camera at them, asks if they mind. It's for the website. Anne hesitates for a second. Yes, good. Do hesitate. She doesn't want her photo taken with John, but if she says no, it'll look suspicious. Come up with an excuse. Of course. No problem. Or the opposite. Anne stands between John and Mario and all three grin into the camera. I have a feeling this photo might end up being a bit of a pain in the arse.

Six months later, Hartlepool Police Station. DC John Graham is about to finish his shift. It's been a long day and he's looking forward to getting home. He logs off his computer, grabs his jacket. He's about to leave when his phone rings. DC Graham. I'm sorry to disturb you. The caller sounds nervous. I might be wasting your time. He sits his heavy frame back down at his desk. He's got enough experience to recognise a valuable call.

He reassures her. Not at all. How can I help? The woman pauses, then says... I work at Giles Gate Medical Centre in Durham. One of my colleagues is Anne Darwin. He grabs a notepad. He knows the name well. He was part of the fraud squad that first investigated John Darwin's disappearance. Imagine! I know her husband's dead, but I think he's been calling her at work. After the inquest, the investigation into John had ended.

But Graham senses that this call will change all of that. I'm with Graham. I sense that too. A couple of days later, he interviews all of Anne Darwin's colleagues at the medical centre. He tracks her calls at the surgery, looks at personal emails she's sent from her computer at work, and he looks at the emails she's received. He hits on one dated 11th October 2006. It's from John.

Subject, holding Panama real estate in a Panamanian corp. The email talks about the advantages of setting up a corporation in Panama. Confidentiality, anonymity and to protect property against legal proceedings from creditors. It goes on to say that if anyone took legal action against them, their property investments would be untouchable. He scrolls through to others. Reads one. To my filthy rich gringo.

Signed, Sexy Beast. Stop it. Stop it. OK. The kissing cupboard was my limit. Three days later, Cleveland police reopen their investigation into the disappearance of John Darwin. But now he's the chief suspect in an international fraud case too.

This season, Instacart has your back-to-school. As in, they've got your back-to-school lunch favorites, like snack packs and fresh fruit. And they've got your back-to-school supplies, like backpacks, binders, and pencils. And they've got your back when your kid casually tells you they have a huge school project due tomorrow.

Let's face it, we were all that kid. So first call your parents to say I'm sorry, and then download the Instacart app to get delivery in as fast as 30 minutes all school year long. Get a $0 delivery fee for your first three orders while supplies last. Minimum $10 per order. Additional terms apply. It's now February 2007. Seton Carew and Darwin opens the door to a smiling young couple. They've come to view number four, The Cliff.

She ushers them inside. "Mind yourselves on the paint, we've just decorated." She wants to sell it as quickly as possible. She and John have been back for a few weeks now. They've spent ages painting the house inside and out. They ordered scaffolding so they could do it themselves to save on costs.

John has been limping up the scaffolding in his disguise, his hat pulled low in case anyone saw him. If she can sell this house soon, she can buy a bigger plot of land for their eco-tourism business, and their new life in Panama will be even better. She shows the young couple round the ground floor rooms. They look impressed. She takes them up to the kitchen, but they've stopped listening.

John's just walked in. One job. Just stay out while she's doing viewings. Why is he so laissez-faire? He stands there, but doesn't say anything. They look at him nervously. Why don't we look at the rooms upstairs? She guides them up the narrow staircase. John shuffles up behind them. What's he playing at? As you can see, the rooms are very large. The view is fantastic. Poor Anne. As you can see, walls, floor, ceiling, boom. Would you like to buy it?

Ignore that guy and look over there. He's dead. We're all having a great time. Put you down as a maybe. But the young couple aren't looking at the sea view. No. They're looking at John. And they've stopped asking questions about the house. Anne glares at him. But he doesn't leave. So she introduces him. This is John. He's one of the tenants here. They look worried. Oh, we didn't know you had sitting tenants. They want to turn number four into a guest house. Existing tenants could be a problem.

She pastes on a smile, tries to reassure them. Don't worry, he's moving somewhere new, aren't you, John? He puts on his false accent. Oh, good. Tells them he's moving away from the region altogether. When the couple aren't looking, she nudges him to go. But he doesn't move. At the door, the couple tell her they'll be in touch. Make me an offer! They tell her they'll think it's over. John, you put them off!

You sounded too eager. Bargain harder next time. I know what I'm doing. Your reliability. Keep away. She bans him from all future viewings. But later that afternoon, the estate agent rings. The young couple have offered £160,000. She's delighted. So is he. That night, they book a flight to Panama. This time, they're going to buy some land and a flat and make their dream a reality.

And that's the end of the series. Sorry, Alice, but it's not. Why is it never the end of the series? May 2007. Escobar, Panama. Anne Darwin scrambles up a steep, overgrown bank. She's trying to keep up with John. They're viewing a 481-acre plot. She wants to see if it's suitable for their ecotourism business. She looks round. It's partly jungle, partly swamp. That's John! LAUGHTER

Can't be simple, can it? Can we have maybe just sort of like land that's got a normal level of wet? There are steep ravines everywhere. The ground is knotted with hidden roots. She stumbles, puts out her hand to steady herself. Watch out for the rattlesnakes, Anne. They're common here. Their guide is Diana Bishop, a local estate agent. She's neatly dressed, even for a visit to the rainforest.

You'll have access to Lake Gatun. Good for boating activities. Oh, Diana, if only you knew. Yeah, they'd both go, what? We don't even like boats. Why have you mentioned that? Running an ecotourism resort sounded like a good idea when John proposed it. Did it? Do any of the things that John proposes sound like a good idea when he proposes them? But now, Anne's not so sure. The roads here from the village are full of potholes. The land has no running water or electricity.

It'll take them years to build a resort here. She can't even speak Spanish. That night, she tells John she's not going to buy the land. We could lose everything. We don't know what we're doing. This is our dream. That place is perfect. No, I would say we're living the nightmare still. I wouldn't say the dream. If it goes wrong, all I've got to live on back home is a widow's pension.

A few days later, he hands her a drawing. It's his design for Jaguar Lodge. Oh, my God. It's clearly a shed with a Jaguar paint on the side, isn't it? Two stories, rooftop terrace, high-arched windows, TV slash games room, library, my office, your office, rooms for two personal maids, total cost $100,000. Every day, he's got more plans.

Outside stables for six horses, 20 cows, 20 sheep. At least come and see the land again. Why is it Noah's Ark? Just play it safe. Just a two-bed bungalow is fine. They visit four times in all. On the last visit, he hands her an Excel spreadsheet of costs and projected income. Not again. Step away from the spreadsheet, Anne. Don't look directly at it. She studies the diagrams, maps and costings. Little arrows point out the important sections.

She flips the page. It's a detailed business plan. He's put links to websites, currency exchange rates. He's added photos from his disposable camera. Doesn't matter. Don't be fooled. Do not be seduced. They're planning a lot of development here. We need to get in quick. Prices will shoot up. She looks back at his flowchart. Green for best outcome, red for worst. Under the red section is a list of alternative actions.

Even if he's half right, they could turn a decent profit. No, they're just pretty colours, hiding the truth. And if it doesn't work, we'll sell the land. In a few years, it'll be worth $2 million. She looks over the spreadsheets again. OK, I'll ring Diana tomorrow. I'll tell her to offer $389,000. That is not a great outcome. John hugs her. She smiles at him. All she has to do now is tell her sons she's emigrating to Panama.

Oh, bloody hell, I forgot about that. Yeah, I think they did as well. Six months later, Panama City. John Darwin sits on a bench outside a bank. He checks his watch. Anne has been inside for over an hour now. He's sent her in to open a new account with high interest rates. He's been researching the best ones and he's given her a list. He's determined to get some control over their finances.

Before they left Seton Carew, he got a fraudulent loan with his John Jones ID of £10,000 from Lloyds TSB. Serves them right for putting us through hell. That's an interesting spin. They put it with the £455,000 from their two recent house sales and set up a company in Panama. They're minted. They've made their sons joint directors. It'll make the money harder to trace if anyone looks. He chose the company name.

Jaguar Properties. But Anne is the sole legal owner. She also owns the flat they've bought for $97,000 in the El Dorado district of Panama City, and the land they've just bought in Escobar. So now he wants to make sure she's managing their money properly. After a few minutes, Anne comes out of the bank. She's flustered. She's opened the wrong account. Again. "Why can't you just listen?" She storms off in tears.

At the next bank, he goes in with her and introduces himself as her financial advisor, guides her through the paperwork. They spend the next few days going from bank to bank, opening similar accounts. After ten days, she refuses to do it anymore. "I want a day off!" He's frustrated. He wants to start work on the business, but she won't come with him. He goes back alone to peg out a boundary fence. But when he's there, he gets a horrible shock. There's rubbish everywhere.

Someone's been fly-tipping on the land. That's going to go down really well with John, who I always think of somebody who has a cool and calm head. He writes an angry email to the municipal chief. He pretends to be a front company for a larger consortium. Why is nothing simple? He signs off in Anne's name. He writes again the next day and the next. A week later, the rubbish is still there. He's sick of trying to organise everything in his wife's name.

Nothing gets done. He needs to take charge. No, what does this mean? But he can't do that on his tourist visa. So he visits Gray & Company, his lawyers in Panama City. He wants to apply for an investor's visa. But the lawyer looks sheepish. I'm afraid the visa rules in Panama have changed. If he wants his application to go ahead, you will need to travel back to England and ask the police to verify your identity.

I would love to. Here's the thing. Just one small thing. I'm dead. He walks out into the warm late afternoon, wanders round the city for a while. He can't go to the police as John Jones. He'll get caught. There has to be another way. That night, he opens his laptop, spends hours trying to find loopholes in the new regulations. But there aren't any.

Anne puts her hand on his. "You don't need an investor's visa. I'll get one. We'll keep everything in my name." But he's tired of being dependent on Anne. He's sick of her controlling everything. He wants his life back. There's only one way he can do it. He needs to be John Darwin again. He needs to come back from the dead.

This is the second episode in our series, The Canoe Con. If you like our show, please give us a five-star rating and a review. And be sure to tell your friends. You can listen to new episodes one week early and ad-free right now by joining Wondery Plus in the Wondery app. Subscribe on Apple Podcasts, Amazon Music, the Wondery app, or wherever you're listening right now. Join Wondery Plus in the Wondery app to listen for free.

In the episode notes, you'll find some links and offers from our sponsors. Please support them. By supporting them, you help us offer you this show for free. Another way to support us is to answer a short survey at wondery.com slash survey. A quick note about our dialogue. In most cases, we can't know exactly what was said, but all our dramatisations are based on historical research. If you're interested in learning more about our dialogue,

If you'd like to know more about this story, there was some extensive coverage in most British newspapers. Books include Up the Creek Without a Paddle by Tammy Cohen, Out of My Depth by Anne Darwin and The Canoe Man by John Darwin. I'm Matt Ford. And I'm Alice Levine. Karen Laws wrote this episode. Additional writing by Alice Levine and Matt Ford. Our sound design is by Rich Evans. Script editing by Joseph Lidster.

Our senior producer is Russell Finch. Our executive producers are Stephanie Jens and Marshall Louis for Wondery. This is the emergency broadcast system. A ballistic missile threat has been detected inbound to your area. Your phone buzzes and you look down to find this alert. What do you do next? Maybe you're at the grocery store or maybe you're with your secret lover or maybe you're robbing a bank.

Based on the real-life false alarm that terrified Hawaii in 2018, Incoming, a brand-new fiction podcast exclusively on Wondery Plus, follows the journey of a variety of characters as they confront the unimaginable. The missiles are coming. What am I supposed to do? Featuring incredible performances from Tracy Letts, Mary Lou Henner, Mary Elizabeth Ellis, Paul Edelstein, and many, many more, Incoming is a hilariously thrilling podcast that will leave you wondering, how would you spend your last few minutes on Earth? ♪

You can binge incoming exclusively and ad-free on Wondery Plus. Join Wondery Plus in the Wondery app, Apple Podcasts, or Spotify.