Patricia Grimes

The murder of two young sisters marks one of Chicago's most infamous cold cases
In the winter of 1956, the city of Chicago was captivated by the music of Elvis Presley, and few were bigger fans than sisters Barbara and Patricia Grimes. Patricia, a 12-year-old seventh-grader at St. Maurice's Catholic School, and her 15-year-old sister, Barbara, were inseparable. Described as attentive students, the girls had seen the new Elvis movie, "Love Me Tender," at least ten times. On the night of December 28, during their Christmas break, they begged their mother, Lorretta, to let them go see it one more time at the Brighton Theater, about a mile and a half from their home in the McKinley Park neighborhood. With about $2.50 between them, they promised to be home before midnight and headed out into the evening.

Their mother grew worried when the girls didn't return by 11:45 p.m. and sent their older siblings to the bus stop to wait for them, but they never arrived. A friend of Patricia's, Dorothy Weinert, later told investigators she had sat behind the sisters at the theater and saw them in line for popcorn at 9:30 p.m., apparently staying for the second screening. This was the last confirmed sighting of Barbara and Patricia Grimes alive. Their disappearance triggered one of the largest missing persons investigations in Chicago's history, sparking a citywide search. As days turned into weeks, tips and alleged sightings poured in, some from as far away as Nashville, Tennessee, fueling initial speculation that the girls had run away to find Elvis. The singer himself made a public plea on the radio: "If you are good Presley fans, you'll go home and ease your mother's worries."

The desperate search came to a devastating end on January 22, 1957. A construction worker named Leonard Prescott was driving along a deserted stretch of German Church Road in a wooded area near Willow Springs and Burr Ridge when he spotted what he first thought were two mannequins discarded in the snow. They were the nude bodies of Barbara and Patricia, lying frozen on the ground. Their mother's worst fears were realized, and a murder investigation was launched. The discovery horrified the city and shattered its sense of innocence.

The Cook County Coroner's autopsy concluded that the girls had likely died within hours of their disappearance, from "secondary shock due to exposure to the elements." However, the report also noted marks and puncture wounds on their bodies, though not severe enough to be fatal. This ambiguity fueled decades of debate and speculation about what exactly happened to them. The investigation was massive, with police questioning thousands of people. Several suspects emerged over the years, but none were ever convicted.

One of the first was a 21-year-old drifter named Edward "Bennie" Bedwell, who bore a resemblance to Elvis. After days of interrogation, he signed a confession, claiming he and another man had been with the girls for several days before beating them and leaving them in a ditch. However, his story was riddled with inconsistencies. The autopsy found no evidence of the food or alcohol he claimed they consumed, and his timeline was disproven. Bedwell later recanted, stating his confession was coerced, and he was ultimately cleared.

Another man who drew suspicion was Walter Kranz, who contacted police claiming to have had psychic visions about the girls' location. His knowledge of details that hadn't been made public made him a person of interest, but no physical evidence ever connected him to the crime, and he was never charged. Decades later, a retired detective pointed to a confessed child killer named Charles Melquist, who is now deceased, as a likely suspect, but he was never charged in the Grimes case either.

The murder of the Grimes sisters remains one of Chicago's most infamous and heartbreaking cold cases. The Cook County Sheriff's Office still considers the case open, though the passage of over 60 years presents immense challenges. The girls' brother, Jim Grimes, who was 11 at the time, spoke publicly about the tragedy for the first time in 2018, saying he is still haunted by unanswered questions. The case left an indelible scar on the community, a haunting reminder of two young lives cut short. No reward has been publicly offered, but the investigation continues, a faint hope for justice that has yet to be extinguished.