223: The Lady of the Lake, Hallie Illingworth | USA

You are listening to: The Evidence Locker. Thank you for tuning in to our podcast. We’re able to bring you new episodes thanks to the support of our sponsors – please check them out, as they offer some exclusive deals just for you, our listeners. If you prefer an ad-free experience, you can find us on Patreon, with plans starting at just $2 a month. Plus, 25% of all Patreon proceeds go directly to The Doe Network, helping to bring closure to international cold cases. For more details, check the link in our show notes. Our episodes cover true crimes involving real people, and some content may be graphic in nature. Listener discretion is advised. We produce each episode with the utmost respect for the victims, their families, and loved ones. Lake Crescent, nestled deep in Washington's Olympic Peninsula, is a place of breathtaking beauty and quiet isolation. With waters so pristine they mirror the towering peaks around them, the lake seems like an untouched paradise. But beneath its tranquil surface lies a dark legacy – a secret that the lake kept for three long years. On a cool July morning in 1940, three fishermen drifted toward the northern shoreline near Barnes Point, scanning the crystal-clear waters for trout. But instead of the usual catch, they found something else – a strange bundle bobbing in the water. As they drew closer, they realized it wasn’t driftwood or debris. It was a body, bound in heavy rope, wrapped in blankets, and weighted down – designed never to resurface. But Lake Crescent, with its icy grip, had a way of preserving its secrets until it was ready to reveal them. The body, in an eerie state of preservation, had no name, no clear story – just harrowing evidence of violence and a mystery waiting to be unraveled. The discovery shocked the quiet town of Port Angeles and sent ripples of fear and curiosity throughout the region. Who was this woman? What had brought her to such a tragic end? And perhaps most chilling of all – who had decided the lake would be her final resting place? As investigators worked tirelessly to identify the victim and piece together her final moments, the case would expose a tale of love, betrayal, and brutality that would captivate and horrify the nation. Today, we look back at the story of "The Lady of the Lake," whose tragic fate has become one of the most enduring and haunting true crime mysteries of the Pacific Northwest. Lake Crescent lies about 20 miles west of Port Angeles, within – what is now – Olympic National Park. Known for its unusual depth – plunging more than 624 feet – and its near-freezing waters, the lake has long been known for its reluctance to yield victims who met their demise in her arms. According to local lore, the Klallam and Quileute tribes once waged a fierce battle beneath the shadow of Mount Storm King. Enraged by the violence, the mountain is said to have torn a massive chunk of rock from its peak and hurled it into the valley below, crushing the warring warriors and damming the river. This catastrophic event gave birth to Crescent Lake, as well as Southerland Lake, ending the war. For generations locals feared Crescent Lake, firmly believing it claimed lives and never gave them back. On the 3rd of July 1929, a local logger and experienced woodsman from Forks, Russell Warren and his wife Blanche disappeared while driving home from Port Angeles. Blanche had been in hospital and Russell was excited to have her home with their sons for the 4th of July celebrations. The 50-mile scenic journey took them along Lake Crescent’s shores. However, they never made it home, and were never seen again. There was an investigation into their disappearance, and when tire tracks were found on the shore of Lake Crescent, police divers launched a search for the couple. This particular stretch of the lake is reportedly more than 400 ft deep, and searchers were unable to find any trace of the missing couple in the treacherous waters. By 1940, the Warren-case remained unsolved, and any sign of them or their Chevrolet was yet to be found. On July 6, 1940, three local fishermen set out onto the still waters of Lake Crescent, their focus on catching trout in the cool, quiet hours. As they approached the northern shoreline near Barnes Point, they noticed something unusual floating in the water. At first, they thought it was debris, perhaps a large log. But as they drew closer, they saw what looked like a bundle of blankets, rolled up and tied together. It was a strange find and they thought it best to report it to local authorities Once ashore, first responders confirmed that it was the remains of a woman. The body was wrapped in two blankets, and hemp rope held it all together. The ends of the rope were long, with dangling pieces, suggesting that it had broken away from a weight. The woman was fully clothed with a green wool dress decorated with white petticoat braid, a belt and although she wore stockings, she had no shoes on. The corpse was in a strange state of preservation. Her face was unrecognisable, and her skin had turned a pale, waxy white, with a rubbery texture – making her look more like a mannequin than a real person. She had been bound with heavy ropes and weighed down with rocks, likely to keep her body from surfacing. But over time, the restraints had weakened and broken, allowing her to rise to the surface. After a recovery team fished the body out of the lake, she was transported to Port Angeles, where medical professionals conducted a thorough examination. The first autopsy revealed that she was disposed of five to twelve months before she was discovered, possibly longer. She had suffered a brutal beating before her death. Her skull was fractured, and she bore evidence of strangulation – either one of which could have caused her death. This was no accident or suicide – it was murder. There was something strange about the state of preservation, though. As Dr Irving Kaveney who examined the body recalled: “I never saw a corpse just like this one before. The flesh is hard, almost waxy. She must be nearly as large as when she went into the water. I’d say she is about 5 feet 6 inches in height and that she weighed about 140 pounds when alive.” Forensic experts identified the unusual putty-like texture of her skin to be the phenomenon known as saponification. In the cold, mineral-rich waters of Lake Crescent, the fats in the woman’s body had quite literally transformed into soap. This rare process explained why the body remained intact despite being submerged for so long. Yet, despite the preservation of the body, the flesh on the victim’s face was gone – perhaps because it protruded from the blankets – making her unrecognisable. Her skull still held her auburn hair in place. This puzzling discovery caused quite the stir throughout the surrounding towns. Everyone in the area knew about the police operation, and before long the case became known as the "Lady of the Lake" mystery. For months investigators struggled to identify the victim, and encouraged medical examiners to find anything that could provide a clue from the only evidence they had: the body itself. Medical student, Harlan McNutt, who was spending his summer in the area was asked to assist the coroner. He was intrigued by an unusual, six-tooth dental plate that was found in her mouth. It looked like it had been custom made, which means if they could find the dentist who made it, they would most likely be able to identify their victim. A sketch of the plate with a description as well as the circumstances of its discovery was distributed through official channels, hoping someone would come forward. Looking at old missing persons’ cases, police found that a woman called Hallie Illingworth disappeared from Port Angeles in 1937. Like the Jane Doe, Hallie had short auburn coloured hair and was in her mid-to-late thirties. That would mean that she had been in the water for longer than what they had initially thought. But if this was Hallie, how did she end up at the bottom of a lake? Hallie Latham was born in Greenville, Kentucky on the 7th of January 1901, the fourth-born in a family of ten children. She was perhaps unlucky in love, as in her mid-thirties she was heading down the aisle for the third time. With two failed marriages behind her in South Dakota, Hallie moved to Washington for a fresh start. She was known for her striking beauty and a warm demeanor that made her popular among locals. Hallie worked at The Crescent Lake Tavern in town, where she met Montgomery J. “Monty” Illingworth, a charismatic World War I veteran. He was a beer truck driver and they saw each other whenever he made his deliveries. Monty was everything Hallie seemed to be looking for: charming, adventurous, and well-liked in the community. The two quickly fell in love and were married in June 1936. But, Monty’s charm masked a darker side. By all accounts, he was a possessive and violent man, prone to heavy drinking and fits of rage. Hallie was no wallflower and stood her ground as best she could. To say their relationship was tumultuous, would be an understatement. Police was often called by neighbours on account of the Illingworths’ heated arguments. Hallie confided in friends that Monty’s temper frightened her. They also noticed that Hallie had bruises on her face and arms, even a black eye on more than one occasion. Hallie would always defend Monty, and despite the obvious abuse, she stayed with him, perhaps believing, hoping things would improve. Then, on December 22, 1937, Hallie failed to show up for work. This was completely out of character as she was very reliable, and her co-workers were immediately concerned for her safety. When they asked Monty where she was, he claimed that she had left him for another man, and they had run off together. Monty said Hallie’s new boyfriend was a navy lieutenant commander and that they had gone to Alaska. Her friends did not buy it. Hallie never mentioned her plans to leave, nor did she suggest there was another man in her life. But no one had any evidence to dispute Monty’s story, so they had to accept it. But Hallie’s friends could not shake the feeling that something bad had happened to Hallie and informed authorities of her disappearance. But with no witnesses and no body, there was little more they could do but hope and pray she was still alive somewhere. For a while, life carried on, with the unsettling mystery of Hallie’s disappearance lingering in Port Angeles. Monty was not going to hang around and filed for divorce five months after Hallie was last seen, citing ‘incompatibility’ as a reason, rather than ‘desertion’ – which does not add up to his version of what had happened to Hallie. Soon after the divorce was granted (in absentia), Monty left Port Angeles with a woman whom he had reportedly been seeing while he was married to Hallie – Elinore Pearson. As the months rolled by, Hallie’s family heard nothing from her, and her friends felt helpless as they could not provide any answers. Hallie had vanished into thin air, and for three years her fate remained a mystery. The discovery of the woman’s body in Lake Crescent in 1940, reignited interest in her case. Investigators began piecing together the events leading up to her disappearance, focusing on her tumultuous relationship with Monty Illingworth. Though Monty had claimed Hallie left him, the evidence told a different story. Witnesses came forward, recalling the frequent arguments and signs of physical abuse. A former neighbor described seeing Monty with scratches on his face shortly after Hallie’s disappearance – injuries he dismissed as the result of a bar fight. Monty’s sudden departure from Port Angeles also raised suspicion. Investigators had a closer look at the circumstances of Hallie’s disappearance. Firstly, they realised that Alaska was the kind of place people went if they didn’t want to be found. So before setting out to look for a needle in a haystack, they decided to follow the money… Hallie worked as a waitress and was paid through the Culinary Alliance. However, her name was no longer on their list of current employees. And she apparently left without taking a union transfer or withdrawal card. As a waitress, living from paycheck to paycheck, leaving money behind was strange. Then detectives tracked down Hallie’s sister, Lois in Walla Walla, who was able to provide them with information, further confirming that Hallie was indeed the Lady of the Lake. She told them that Hallie had a partial denture, and that she was complaining of a large bunion on her right foot. Lois had not heard from nor had she seen her sister since the end of 1937. Hallie’s sister Cammie who lived in Vancouver informed police that the last she heard from Hallie was a Christmas postcard, dated 21 December 1937. It was Cammie who told them about Hallie’s dentist in South Dakota. Six months after Hallie’s body was found, Dr Albert J. McDowell, a dentist from Faulkton, South Dakota claimed the plate as his handiwork and confirmed that he had made it for Hallie. At the end of October, 1941, investigators tracked Monty to Long Beach, California, where he was working as a truck driver. He lived with his self-proclaimed common-law wife, Elinore Pearson. Police were very interested in what he had to say about the discovery of his wife’s body in Lake Crescent. In police custody, Monty claimed that on the night of December 21, 1937, he had gone to a party with his friend Tony Enos. He came home drunk and rowdy. He said Hallie lost her temper and left, saying he would never see her again.   When questioned by police, Tony Enos confirmed the party and the date. He also said that when he saw Monty the following morning, Monty told him he had to take Hallie to the Port Ludlow Ferry. So which version was it: did Hallie leave, in the middle of the night? Or did she run off to Alaska with her new beau? Or did Monty drive her to the ferry to go who-knows-where? Monty was tripping himself up in all his lies… He was charged with Hallie’s murder and extradited to Washington to stand trial. Monty Illingworth’s trial began in early 1942 in Clallam County Superior Court and was a sensational news story. Photographs of Monty flanked by Elinore and his mother, Flossie were all over the front pages. Members of the public turned up in droves to watch the trial – homemakers, teenagers, anyone who had been taken in by the ‘Lady of the Lake’ mystery. It was a welcome escape from the horrors of World War II that usually dominated the news, and everyone was invested. The prosecution painted a damning picture of Monty – a man who had grown increasingly violent toward his wife. They argued that on the night of her death, Monty had flown into a drunken rage, attacking Hallie and strangling her. To cover up the crime, he had taken her body to Lake Crescent, weighted it down, and dumped it into the icy waters. Monty tried to cast doubt as to the identity of the body found in the lake. He claimed that the last time he saw Hallie, she was alive and well, and he firmly believed she was still alive. According to Monty, Hallie had often threatened to leave him, and he was convinced that she had done just that. His defense team also questioned the timeline of events, suggesting that Hallie’s body could have been placed in the lake at a later date. They pointed out that there was no witness to the murder, nor to the disposal of the body. But the forensic evidence was hard to refute. The saponified state of Hallie’s body preserved evidence, and the autopsy clearly indicated foul play, such as strangulation marks around her neck. The dental plate undeniably belonged to Hallie, as the dentist from South Dakota confirmed at the trial. Moreover, Hallie's friends identified the green wool dress found on the deceased victim as Hallie's. The smoking gun, so to speak, that sealed the deal for the Proescution, was the fact that Monty had borrowed 50 feet of rope from a shopkeeper at the west end of Lake Crescent. According to the shopkeeper, Monty told him he needed the rope to tow a truck that was stuck somewhere. The store still had some remnants of the same hemp rope, fibres matching the ropes used to tie Hallie’s body up. After a tense three-week trial, the jury only took four hours to find Monty Illingworth guilty of second-degree murder. He was sentenced to life in prison at the Washington State Penitentiary in Walla Walla. His life sentence was later reduced to a term of nine years, and he was paroled in 1951. By then, the story of Hallie Illingworth had already become a part of local lore, and forever tying her name to the legend of ‘The Lady of the Lake’. After his release, Monty disappeared into obscurity. All we know is that he died in Los Alamitos, California in November 1975, aged 65. Hollis Fultz, a criminologist with the Washington State Attorney General's Office who helped investigate the murder outlined the most likely sequence of events that December night in 1937: It’s thought that Hallie and Monty, whose relationship had been troubled for months, got into a heated argument in their apartment. Tensions between them had been simmering for a while. Monty, known for his temper, was likely enraged, and probably inebriated. Words turned into blows, and as the fight escalated, Monty struck Hallie over the head, and then strangled her. In a moment of blind violence, her life was taken. Monty likely panicked. Killing Hallie wasn’t part of his plan – or so it seemed. But if her body was discovered, there would be no hiding his guilt. The apartment would have been evidence enough of what happened, and witnesses could surely attest to their volatile marriage. So, he set out to get rid of the evidence. Prosecutors believed that Monty placed Hallie’s lifeless body in the trunk of his car and drove it to Lake Crescent, far from the prying eyes of their neighbors. By the time he arrived, it was late, and the shore was deserted. At the lake, Monty meticulously wrapped Hallie’s body in blankets, tying the bundle tightly with rope he had stopped to borrow from a local store. He placed the weighted bundle in a rowboat, and under the cover of darkness, he rowed out into the lake’s frigid waters. Once he’d reached a point where he believed the water was deep enough, he pushed the bundle over the edge. The weight dragged it down into the lake’s depths, disappearing into the blackness below. Monty likely thought this was the end of the story – that the water would hide his crime forever. During the trial, there were whispers about whether Monty had acted alone. Could someone have helped him, either in the crime itself or in disposing of Hallie’s body? No evidence ever surfaced to support these theories, and Monty himself never implicated anyone else. Even now, the details of that night remain speculation, pieced together from evidence, witness accounts, and Monty’s own actions. What truly happened between Hallie and Monty in those final moments we’ll never know for sure. In 1940, two months into the investigation, before she had been identified, her remains were buried in an unmarked grave in Ocean View cemetery. The body was exhumed on two occasions, for further testing, and in January 1942, she was finally interred at Park Hill Cemetery in Vancouver. Visitors to Olympic National Park often hear Hallie’s story, human tragedies that can unfold even in the most beautiful places. It is believed that Lake Crescent still holds many secrets, but in 2001, it finally revealed one… Recreational divers discovered the lid of an old washing machine. The relic seemed inconsequential at first, but when the group did some research, they discovered that Russell and Blanche Warren who disappeared in 1928, bought a washing machine on the afternoon of July 3rd after Blanche’s release from hospital. The group of divers were determined to solve the mystery and returned to the site the following year. This time, at approximately 170 ft beneath the surface, they discovered the Warrens’ 1927 Chevrolet. However, no human remains were inside the vehicle. It would be another two years before skeletal remains were found, near the car, but at a location 20 ft deeper. It was concluded that Russell must have lost control of his vehicle, navigating his way around a treacherous bend in the road, as there were no guard rails at the time. In 1960, Dale Steele suffered a similar fate to the Warrens when his car went into the lake. His passenger, 20-year-old Beverly Sherman was able to escape from the vehicle before the icy waters claimed Dale and his vehicle. In recent years, the lake has ended the lives of at least three people, who were mainly using the pristine waters for recreation. Fortunately, the drowning victims’ remains were found, thanks to the expert efforts of the Jamestown S'Klallam Tribe Public Safety and Natural Resource dive team. Beneath the surface of every mystery lies a story waiting to be uncovered. For three years, the icy depths of Lake Crescent held Hallie Illingworth’s tragic secret, preserving the truth in silence. In the end, it wasn’t a witness, a confession, or a slip of the tongue that spoke for her, but the lake itself. If you'd like to dive deeper into this case, check out the resources we used for this episode in the show notes. Don’t forget to follow us on social media for more updates on today's case – you can find us on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter. 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