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Techday NZ
4 hours ago
- Techday NZ
Critical SharePoint zero-day flaw exploited, urgent actions urged
A critical zero-day vulnerability in Microsoft SharePoint Server, identified as CVE-2025-53770, has been actively exploited by threat actors and now poses a significant security risk to organisations operating on-premises SharePoint environments. Security researchers and technology companies have raised urgent concerns about the sophistication and reach of the campaign, which has been dubbed "ToolShell" and enables remote code execution (RCE), system compromise, and persistent backdoor access - even in environments protected by measures such as multi-factor authentication (MFA). According to Adrian Culley, Senior Sales Engineer at SafeBreach, the situation is particularly serious because the attacks exploiting this vulnerability commenced before any security patches were made available, placing it in the most dangerous category of threats to enterprise infrastructure. "This CVE represents a critical security incident: it was exploited as a zero-day vulnerability in active attacks against production systems before any patches were available - the most severe type of threat organisations face," Culley stated. Further complicating the response, there is currently no single remediation patch for the vulnerability. Microsoft has taken the unusual and cautionary step of advising organisations to assume their systems may already be compromised, and to immediately conduct comprehensive investigations to verify the integrity of their environments. This approach is rarely adopted in public advisory language, and reinforces the gravity of the incident. SharePoint Server 2016 installations face unique challenges due to the absence of technical fixes at present. Organisations running these environments are being told to lean on breach and attack simulation, alongside current security controls, to gauge their exposure. Culley recommended, "Proactive defence requires targeted hardening measures and resilience improvements to prevent falling victim to this sophisticated attack vector." Analysis from Mandiant Consulting, part of Google Cloud, indicates that this exploit is being used by multiple threat actors, including groups linked to China. Charles Carmakal, CTO at Mandiant Consulting, stressed the breadth of the threat landscape: "We assess that at least one of the actors responsible for this early exploitation is a China-nexus threat actor. It's critical to understand that multiple actors are now actively exploiting this vulnerability." Carmakal warned that further threat actors are expected to join as awareness and knowledge of the exploit spreads, increasing the urgency for defensive actions. Google's Threat Intelligence Group has observed attackers leveraging CVE-2025-53770 to install webshells and exfiltrate sensitive cryptographic secrets from compromised servers. This enables unauthenticated, long-term access to targeted systems, putting confidential data and business operations at risk. In its emergency guidance, Microsoft clarified that this vulnerability currently affects only on-premises versions of SharePoint Server. Organisations using SharePoint Online as part of Microsoft 365 are not impacted. For those running on-premises servers exposed to the internet, immediate action is advised. Experts recommend implementing Microsoft's mitigation advice, closely monitoring systems for signs of compromise, and preparing to deploy an emergency patch as soon as it becomes available. Carmakal summed up the reality facing organisations: "This isn't an 'apply the patch and you're done' situation. Organisations need to implement mitigations right away (and the patch when available), assume compromise, investigate whether the system was compromised prior to the patch/mitigation, and take remediation actions." Given the current lack of a comprehensive patch, vigilance in monitoring, rapid application of mitigations, and thorough investigative processes will be mandatory in defending against the expanding wave of exploitation. Security professionals emphasise that building resilience and continually reviewing security postures are critical as the situation evolves and more actors target the vulnerability.
Daily Mirror
10-07-2025
- Daily Mirror
Dad's powerful two-word message for pregnant Brit teen at drug smuggling hearing
Bella May Culley, 19, faces 20 years to life imprisonment should she be convicted of smuggling large amounts of marijuana and hashish into the country of Georgia Bella May Culley's dad has given a two-word message of support to his pregnant daughter as she appeared in court today over drug smuggling charges. Culley, 19, from Billingham, Teesside, appeared at Georgia's Tbilisi City Court for a brief hearing after she previously denied charges of possession and smuggling large amounts of marijuana and hashish into the country. The trial began at the court where it was heard there were issues relating to evidence that might have to be resolved. She remained silent as the charges were read out. Her dad, who was also in court, told his daughter to "stay strong." Culley faces upwards of 20 years behind bars or even life imprisonment should she be convicted. The upcoming hearing is slated for July 24. Mr Malkhaz Salakaia, who represented Culley, said there was a possibility both sides could come to an agreement to close the case on July 24, according to the BBC. Culley was first reported missing in Thailand before she was located and arrested in Tbilisi International Airport on May 10. She has been held in prison for 61 days as the prosecution investigation where the 26lbs of marijuana and 4.4lbs of hashish came from. They are also investigating whether she intended to hand it over to someone else. Culley previously claimed she was "forced to do this through torture." She added: "I just want to travel. I am a good person. I am a student at university. I am a clean person. I don't do drugs." Mr Salakaia said his client was tortured with a hot iron being placed on her right arm by a criminal group that gave her the drugs. She approached a policeman to seek help but he turned out to be affiliated with the gang, the lawyer told the court. Culley claimed she attempted to seek help from Thai customs staff and that the drugs had been put into a bag and stored in the hold of a plane on her behalf. Thai authorities have slammed Culley's claims and they said CCTV images from the airport showed her passing calmly through airport checks without flagging down anyone for help or showing any unusual behaviour. Lieutenant General Choengron Rimpadee said "there is absolutely no factual basis to her claims" while presenting airport CCTV footage showing Culley walking normally through passport control at the Thai airport. It is understood that Culley arrived in Tbilisi on a flight from Sharjah, located in the United Arab Emirates. A Georgian police spokesperson said she was arrested as part of a joint operation between several departments.
Daily Mirror
07-07-2025
- Daily Mirror
Police slam Brit 'drug mule' teen's claims as 'baseless' with fresh CCTV
Bella Culley claimed during a pre-trial hearing that she was forced to smuggle drugs out of Thailand and that 'nobody paid attention' when she asked for help at Bangkok airport Police in Thailand have criticised the claims made by a British teenager accused of smuggling drugs out of the country as "baseless", as new CCTV images of her at the airport emerged. Bella Culley is currently detained in Georgia for alleged drug trafficking and faces a potential sentence of 20 years or life imprisonment if found guilty. The 19-year-old, from Billingham, County Durham, sobbed in court last week as she claimed she was "forced by torture" to smuggle drugs out of Thailand. She was arrested at Tblisi International Airport on May 10 after being caught with 30 pounds of marijuana and hashish in her luggage. She said during her pre-trial hearing at a Tbilisi City court: "I didn't want to do this. I was forced by torture. I just wanted to travel. I study at the university… to become a nurse. "All I wanted to do was to travel and this happened to me. I'm clean - I had nothing in my blood test. I wanted to make my family proud. Thanks for listening." She also added "nobody paid attention" when she tried to ask for help from Thai customs officers at the Suvarnabhumi International Airport in Bangkok. But Thai authorities have hit back at Culley's claims, as they say CCTV images from the airport shows her calmly passing through airport checks without showing unusual behaviour. Police Lieutenant General Choengron Rimpadee said "there is absolutely no factual basis to her claims" while presenting airport CCTV footage showing Culley walking normally through passport control at the Thai airport. He added: "There is no evidence whatsoever that any immigration or police officers forced or threatened the suspect to smuggle drugs out of the country." According to Khaosod English, Thai immigration records say the suspect departed from Thailand at 7am local time on May 10. Culley will now be registered as a "prohibited person" by authorities in Thailand, it has been reported. The British student is now awaiting her fate at the notorious Women's Penitentiary Number Five in Georgia, close to the Russian border. It's understood that Culley, who is pregnant, is sharing a cell with two other inmates in the "hellhole" jail known for its cramped and dirty conditions. The teen has claimed she's had no medical care in jail, despite her pregnancy. Her lawyer Mariam Kublashvili said back in May: "She is pregnant and needs medical care which she complained she wasn't getting – there were no tests or checks or medical examinations done, she told me. She said she asked for a doctor, but the doctor wasn't speaking English and they couldn't understand each other." Campaigners and lawyers are now warning that Culley's apparent lack of medical care could "raise serious human rights concerns." Describing reports of her being denied medical care as "extremely worrying", Adam Jones, from law firm HD Claims, told the Mirror: "Even while incarcerated, individuals have the right to basic healthcare, and pregnancy care falls firmly within that. Georgia is a signatory to multiple international conventions, including the European Convention on Human Rights and the UN's Convention Against Torture. "These establish a minimum standard of care, especially for vulnerable individuals such as pregnant women. Day-to-day, Bella should be receiving routine antenatal check-ups, access to qualified medical professionals, proper nutrition, and immediate care in the event of complications. Denial of such care may breach Article 3 of the ECHR, which prohibits inhuman or degrading treatment."
Daily Mirror
03-07-2025
- Health
- Daily Mirror
Bella Culley could be separated from her baby behind bars in 'traumatic' update
Suspected British drug smuggler Bella May Culley has raised grave concerns from experts who are raising the alarm about her bleak prison conditions. The 18-year-old, from Billingham, County Durham, is accused of trafficking cannabis into Georgia. If found guilty, she could be looking at life in prison, very far from home. The teen sobbed in court this week as she claimed she was "forced by torture". Bella said: "I didn't want to do this. I was forced by torture. I just wanted to travel. I study at the university… to become a nurse. "All I wanted to do was to travel and this happened to me. I'm clean - I had nothing in my blood test. I wanted to make my family proud. Thanks for listening." Brit gang 'threatened to decapitate' 'drug mule' Bella Culley 'and kill her family' For now, the British student awaits her fate at the notorious Women's Penitentiary Number Five in Georgia, close to the Russian border. It's understood that Culley, who is pregnant, is sharing a cell with two other inmates in the 'hellhole' jail known for its cramped and dirty conditions. The teen has claimed she's had no medical care in jail, despite her pregnancy. Her lawyer, Mariam Kublashvili said back in May: "She is pregnant and needs medical care which she complained she wasn't getting – there were no tests or checks or medical examinations done, she told me. She said she asked for a doctor, but the doctor wasn't speaking English and they couldn't understand each other." And campaigners and lawyers are now warning that Culley's apparent lack of medical care could "raise serious human rights concerns." Describing reports of Bella being denied medical care as "extremely worrying", Adam Jones, from law firm HD Claims, told the Mirror: "Even while incarcerated, individuals have the right to basic healthcare, and pregnancy care falls firmly within that. Georgia is a signatory to multiple international conventions, including the European Convention on Human Rights and the UN's Convention Against Torture. "These establish a minimum standard of care, especially for vulnerable individuals such as pregnant women. Day-to-day, Bella should be receiving routine antenatal check-ups, access to qualified medical professionals, proper nutrition, and immediate care in the event of complications. Denial of such care may breach Article 3 of the ECHR, which prohibits inhuman or degrading treatment." Human rights organisations have long had serious concerns about conditions in prisons in Georgia, particularly regarding healthcare access and the treatment of foreign nationals. Mr Jones added: "Vulnerable prisoners, especially young women, often face language barriers, limited access to legal support, and difficulty advocating for themselves in an unfamiliar system." The reported conditions of Women's Penitentiary Number Five make for grim reading. Multiple inmates are said to be squeezed into single cells, in a Soviet-era facility described as being in a state of decay. Although some improvements have been seen in recent times, thanks to funding, there have been distressing accounts from behind the prison's allegedly grimy walls. One inspection found that prisoners were forced to squat in front of guards, said to be particularly traumatic when they are menstruating. Meanwhile, a report from the latest inspection of the prison found that new inmates were spending up to two weeks in internal classification cells before being assigned to their block. According to this report, which followed complaints over hygiene from inmates: "Even though they are legally guaranteed the right to exercise, they are unable to benefit from this right. "The internal classification cells are located in the C residential building of the facility, and there is no designated outdoor space available for the inmates housed there to get fresh air." Although improvements in cleanliness were noted, "it was found that the facility frequently does not receive drinking water", with both staff and inmates forced to collect water in containers, which they would then store. It's clear this is a hostile environment for a young pregnant woman, and it's feared things could get even worse should Culley end up giving birth behind bars. According to Mr Jones: "If Bella were to give birth while imprisoned, her baby would likely be taken into the care of the state or handed over to relatives, depending on the circumstances and Georgian family law. Immediate separation after birth can have traumatic effects, both psychologically and physically, particularly without proper postnatal care or support systems in place. "Her case highlights a broader issue: the urgent need for transparent oversight in how prisons handle the care of pregnant women, especially foreign nationals. Without international scrutiny or legal intervention, individuals like Bella risk being left without even the most basic care, simply because of where they are.' The Mirror also heard from Kirsty Kitchen, Head of Policy at Birth Companions, a charity supporting women who face inequalities and disadvantages during pregnancy. Ms Kitchen warned that the organisation is "deeply concerned by reports that Bella May Culley has not been receiving appropriate medical care while held in Rustavi's prison number 5." She told us: "The United Nations' Rules for the Treatment of Women Prisoners, commonly known as the 'Bangkok Rules', are clear: pregnant women in prison must have access to healthcare that is equivalent to that which would receive in the community, along with a healthy environment, adequate nutrition, fresh water supplies, and regular exercise. "Yet the most recent inspection of the prison, carried out by the ombudsman of Georgia, found a range of issues with drinking water, proper ventilation, and long waits for medical services to address physical and mental health needs. "The UN rules also state that pregnant women should not be held in prison pre-trial, and should receive non-custodial sentences wherever possible. On these grounds, the refusal of Bella's application for bail, which would allow her to access maternity care in the community and have the support of her family, is a huge disappointment." Highlighting what needs to be done next, Ms Kitchen added: "We need to ensure her physical and mental health needs are being met, and work to secure her release from an environment that is clearly not a safe or appropriate place in which to navigate pregnancy." Bella was first arrested at Tbilisi International Airport on May 11, after being reported missing in Thailand. She has been accused of smuggling drugs into Georgia following her travels in South East Asia. Cannabis was legalised for recreational use in Georgia back in 2018, with limited possession also being decriminalised; however, the selling of cannabis remains illegal. The Mirror has approached the Georgian Ministry of Justice for comment.
Boston Globe
23-06-2025
- Boston Globe
She was a quiet bird expert. Then she was called to investigate a murder in Maine.
Advertisement 'What's these houses?' Laybourne asked the detective, her gravelly North Carolina drawl weighing down every syllable. Get Starting Point A guide through the most important stories of the morning, delivered Monday through Friday. Enter Email Sign Up 'They're brooder houses,' he answered. This amused Laybourne. Before the trip, a friend had told her that she was heading to the chicken capital of Maine, and the abundance of poultry infrastructure lent some credence to this quirky bit of trivia. It was a welcome, albeit brief, distraction in otherwise tense territory. At her hotel, Laybourne received a handwritten letter from Peter Culley, the young state prosecutor who'd soon be interrogating her on the witness stand. He apologized for not picking her up personally from the airport; the team was ironing out some last-minute details on the case, he explained. But, he noted, 'I fully expect we'll get to your testimony tomorrow.' Advertisement Culley, a lifelong Mainer who was just a few years out of law school, had plotted an exhaustive case against Henry Andrews, a 35-year-old laborer who stood accused in state court of the brutal murder of Hazel Doak, his elderly former landlord. Laybourne would appear in the penultimate act of the prosecutor's script, the last witness he'd call before closing arguments. Roxie Laybourne examines a specimen in an undated photo. from Department of Vertebrate Zoology, Division of Birds, Photo by Chip Clark, Smithsonian Institution Some of Laybourne's colleagues at the Smithsonian National Museum of Natural History in Washington, D.C., considered her boyish. Some found her ornery. Everyone agreed that she was an authority — perhaps the authority — on feathers. Culley hoped that if any embers of doubt were still smoldering in the jury box by the time Laybourne took the stand, she'd extinguish them by offering up scientific analysis showing that feathers recovered from the scene of the crime matched bits of feather that were found on Andrews's clothing at the time he was apprehended. To the best of anyone's knowledge, this 1972 case would mark the first time that feather forensics would be used in a homicide trial. When morning arrived, Laybourne stepped outside and walked over to a small, wooded area near the hotel's parking lot. To her surprise, she spotted some chicken feathers on the ground. On the drive to court, she saw trucks hauling wooden crates, leaving trails of chicken feathers blowing in the wind. Just about anywhere else, it'd be strange to take a walk in the woods and emerge with poultry down stuck to your boots or pants. But in this wedge of eastern Maine, feathers seemed to be everywhere — and that made Laybourne uneasy. 'I didn't know what I had gotten myself in,' she later said. Advertisement F orget blueberries and lobsters; for a short stretch in the mid-20th century, chickens topped the culinary pecking order of Maine. Belfast played an outsized role in the industry, and millions of broilers met their maker in the city's dueling poultry plants. Build an economy on the back of butchered chickens and life will get messy. As Laybourne observed on her first morning in town, the industry's leftovers were everywhere. Some residents had to rake feathers off their lawns and others complained of a foul stench that would drift through their yards. Most unappetizing was the steady stream of putrefied byproduct that flowed out of the processing plants and into Penobscot Bay. The bloody, fatty industrial runoff caked the shoreline and congealed into a blanket that bobbed atop the water. At low tide, a rust-colored stain could be seen on the rocks and sand, earning Belfast the unfortunate nickname 'the City with a Bathtub Ring.' A writer for Newsweek wrote about how ritzy New Yorkers had taken to calling Belfast 'Schmaltzport,' a reference to the Yiddish term for chicken fat. Chickens marked a hard-won path to prosperity for a city that had endured its share of booms and busts. To showcase the local industry's might, Belfast started hosting Advertisement Satiating thousands of New Englanders sweltering in the July heat wasn't easy, but the broiler festival rarely left guests hungry. A Popular Mechanics reporter once marveled at the scale and efficiency of the operation: 'During the two-days of the festival, a 130-man crew works in three shifts to prepare 13 tons of Maine broilers over charcoal-fed barbecue pits totaling 300 feet in length,' he wrote. 'The birds, brown and hot, are then put on a 100-foot conveyor belt and carried directly from the pits to the serving tables.' It was American exceptionalism at the local level — and fun for the entire family. On the weekend of July 17, 1971, however, the celebration soured. That's when, according to prosecutors, Henry Andrews blew into town on Friday with two friends who were ready to party. Drinks flowed early and the first place Andrews took his buddies was a sturdy white farmhouse a mile outside of town. He had rented a room there a few years earlier while clearing trees on the surrounding property. During the impromptu visit, Andrews found Hazel Doak, a 71-year-old widow who had lived there for more than 20 years. She was Andrews's landlord during his time in town and the relationship was allegedly rocky. Doak didn't appreciate Andrews showing up unannounced that Friday: After a tense exchange, she asked the two men accompanying Andrews to remove him from her property and get lost. They complied, shook off the uncomfortable start to the weekend, and made their way into town for dinner and a night of drinking. Around 1:45 a.m., an inebriated Andrews reportedly ditched his pals and teetered over to the Main Street taxi stand, where, through droopy eyes and slurred words, he asked for a ride back to the Doak farm. The trip lasted fewer than 10 minutes and cost a buck. The driver peeled away into the night, leaving Andrews swaying under the influence at the edge of the driveway. Advertisement At 10:30 the next morning, Doak's longtime friend Edith Ladd pulled up to the house. The two women had spoken on the phone the previous night and made plans to head over to the broiler festival together. Ladd went to the back entrance that she typically used and found it still latched shut. She went around to the front of the house, where the door swung wide open. Inside, she found Doak's lifeless body heaped on a bed, clad in nothing but a nightgown. White and tan feathers dangled from her hair, specked her shoulders, and clogged her mouth, throat, and nostrils. Horrified, Ladd looked down and found feathers stuck to the floor, forming a trail that went from the bedroom down the hall and toward the dining room. Laybourne examining a feather at the Smithsonian. from Department of Vertebrate Zoology, Division of Birds, Photo by Chip Clark, Smithsonian Institution Ladd called the police and huddled in her car with her daughter, grandson, and other family members, who had been waiting patiently to get to the festival. When the officers arrived, they followed the trail of feathers downstairs and found the cellar door cracked open. The best they could surmise, someone had grabbed Doak's pillow and smothered her with such force that it burst the pillow open and sent feathers everywhere, including onto the murderer. Whoever it was then fled the property and dashed off into the woods. Leads came in quick and signs pointed to Andrews, who was nowhere to be found. Near the end of the weekend, a soaking-wet Andrews walked into the Belfast Police Station and, according to police testimony, allegedly declared, 'I came to give myself up.' Advertisement The officer on duty later testified that he didn't know what Andrews was giving himself up for and he didn't bother asking. Instead, the officer sold Andrews a pack of cigarettes, gave him a box of matches, and arranged a ride over to the sheriff's department, figuring the guy got stuck in the weekend rainstorms and could use a warm meal. The sheriffs on duty knew exactly who Andrews was and what he was wanted for. They placed him under arrest and collected his clothes — and the feathers that were stuck to them. Police sent several bags of evidence to the FBI for careful analysis at the bureau's crime lab in Washington, D.C. There was head hair and pubic hair, a pack of cigarettes, four latent fingerprints, pillowcases, bed sheets, one US dollar, and nearly every piece of clothing Andrews had with him when he was arrested: boots, belt, shirt, socks, trousers, and pajama pants. Knowing the murder weapon was a pillow, the agents in Washington understood that the feathers stuck to his clothes might be a key piece of trace evidence, but they had no clue how to analyze them in any meaningful way. Fortunately, they had heard all about L aybourne's investigatory superpower was an ability to take a tiny fragment of feather, look at it under her microscope, and identify the type of bird from which it came. She reached her conclusions primarily by analyzing the shape and patterns of structures called barbules that are invisible to the naked eye. It didn't matter if the piece of feather looked like pocket lint that had been whipped around a blender — Laybourne almost always determined its avian owner. She was, as far as anyone knew, the only person in the world who possessed this unusual, self-taught skill set, which would become the foundation of a new field called forensic ornithology. Laybourne began her career in the 1930s as a taxidermist at a small museum in her native North Carolina. During World War II, she landed at the Smithsonian, where she stuck with taxidermy for a few years and then started helping manage the museum's massive bird collection on behalf of the US Fish and Wildlife Service. It was ornithological grunt work — satisfying but not always stimulating. But one fall day in 1960, her boss asked her to have a look at some mutilated bird remains that had been removed from the engines of an Eastern Air Lines plane that struck a flock of birds while taking off from Logan International Airport. Laybourne at work in the Smithsonian in an undated photo. from Department of Vertebrate Zoology, Division of Birds, Photo by Chip Clark, Smithsonian Institution Her life was never the same. She spent thousands of hours holed up in back rooms of the museum, analyzing chopped up bird bits on behalf of the FAA, the US Air Force, airlines, and engine makers. Knowing what kind of birds were getting hit most frequently —and how much they weighed — was key to informing new safety and engineering standards. In the absence of species and weight data, 'the technical community was left with solving a problem it could not define,' a colonel in the Air Force told Laybourne. But transferring her techniques to violent crimes and testifying in a murder trial was uncharted territory for everyone involved. It was anyone's guess as to whether this emerging branch of forensic science and its sole practitioner would be able to withstand the scrutiny of aggressive defense attorneys, dispassionate judges, and uninformed jurors. Before heading to Maine, Laybourne analyzed and reanalyzed the feathers collected from Andrews's clothing. Unfettered access to the Smithsonian's bird collection meant that she could compare the evidence against exotic reference specimens from some of the most distant corners of the world, be it a Blyth's hornbill from Papua New Guinea or a harpy eagle from the Amazon. Pillows aren't typically filled with the feathers of rare birds, though, and Laybourne didn't need to dig deep for this case: Of the 11 pieces of evidence provided to her for analysis, 10 of them contained traces of duck, goose, and/or chicken feathers, a common mixture in commercial products. In Laybourne's expert opinion, the feathers plucked from Andrews's socks, boots, and pants matched the mix of feathers in the pillow that was pinned over Doak's face as she struggled to fill her lungs one last time. For all of her scientific expertise, Laybourne was unpolished and unpracticed when it came to criminal proceedings. She didn't know what to expect when she entered the courthouse, and that morning's realization that chicken feathers sometimes seemed to rain from the sky in Belfast didn't help soothe her nerves. The morning bustle inside the small courthouse was a sharp departure from the employee-only corridors of the museum, where biologists talked in hushed tones and the birds never made a peep. After a few awkward minutes of hanging around, waiting for the trial to get underway, Laybourne struck up a conversation with a gentleman who said he was a birder and wanted to know more about her work. A member of Culley's team quickly interrupted to inform Laybourne that she was actually speaking with Andrews's attorney. 'I couldn't have gotten in a bigger mess,' Laybourne later said. Despite the bumpy start to the morning, Laybourne delivered the goods once she was on the stand. Sensitive to the limitations of her science, she didn't overstate her findings or attempt to stretch her analysis to favor the prosecution. She explained that she had performed 'thousands of feather match-ups' in the past. The feather fragments collected from Andrews's clothes, she said, had similar characteristics as the ones removed from the crime scene. 'As far as I could tell,' Laybourne told the judge and jury, trying her best to cut through the scientific jargon and get to the point, 'they look like they could have come from the same source.' The testimony went just as Culley had planned. Laybourne returned to Washington and the State of Maine rested its case, handing the floor over to Andrews's team. Andrews had pleaded not guilty/not guilty by insanity. Laybourne at the Smithsonian in 1992 with the bird collection. from Department of Vertebrate Zoology, Division of Birds, Photo by Chip Clark, Smithsonian Institution Facing what looked to be a mountain of evidence, Andrews's attorney told the court that he would prove the murder was 'brought about by insanity.' According to news reporting of the time, jurors heard about an occasion when Andrews chopped down his brother's bedroom door with an ax while sleepwalking and about another instance in which he allegedly choked a 19-year-old. Andrews's own mother took the stand, testifying that her son exhibited disturbing behavior from a young age. When he was 3, she said, 'He changed from a normal, pleasant child to a highly emotional child' who would set the grass on fire and experience extreme mood swings. His troubles worsened after he suffered a head injury in a motorcycle crash as a teenager. He was in and out of hospitals with a series of mental health episodes, his mother testified, even confessing to the jury that she wished her son had never been discharged from the first ward where he was sent after the accident. After establishing his client as a man plagued by many demons, the defense attorney attempted to poke holes in the case by taking aim at Laybourne. He told the jury that there was no evidence placing Andrews at the scene of the crime. The taxi driver never saw Andrews enter the house, and nobody witnessed him leaving. The state's whole case rested on some newfangled field of feather identification, which the attorney derided as a 'weak basis' on which to convict a man of murder. The jury entered deliberation on a Saturday. The options were not guilty, not guilty by reason of insanity, or guilty. After only 2½ hours behind closed doors, the jurors emerged with a unanimous decision: not guilty. The ruling stunned many people, including Andrews's own attorney. Culley, the prosecutor, recalls the defense attorney walking over and asking, 'What just happened?' Fifty years later, Culley said he still considered it a baffling injustice. It had nothing to do with Laybourne, he said. Her testimony was sound and her feather identifications accurate. All Laybourne could do was focus her talents on the next case and continue following the science. B y the time the jury delivered its verdict in Maine, Laybourne was already back in her corner of the Smithsonian, working up a report on her next case and preparing to testify again. This time, detectives in Utah had found feathers in the house of a woman who had been bludgeoned to death, allegedly by a man wearing a down jacket that tore during the altercation. If Laybourne could match the feathers at the scene to those in the jacket, that would be key evidence for the prosecution. As curious as her career path had been, Laybourne never intended or expected to be working at the intersection of ornithology and homicide. 'I didn't like doing crimes of violence,' she later recalled. But she stuck with it and plodded deeper into criminal affairs out of a sense of duty, knowing full well that law enforcement didn't have any other feather experts in their corner. "The Feather Detective" by Chris Sweeney. Handout In the fall of 1972, she boarded a flight for Salt Lake City, ready to present evidence in a case against another accused murderer. At some point during the trip, she must have wondered what she was getting herself into. It was a question she found herself pondering frequently as her caseload evolved. How had it come this far? How did a Southern girl with a talent for taxidermy end up at one of the most renowned museums in the world, investigating assorted tragedies? In the months, years, and decades that followed that first bitter murder trial in Maine, Laybourne, who died in 2003, transformed her obscure niche into a truly consequential field of science. Her findings helped successfully prosecute murderers, poachers, and even a former grand dragon of the Ku Klux Klan, who tarred and feathered a civil rights activist. She investigated several more tragic airplane crashes caused by birds, working closely with the aviation industry and the Air Force to bird-proof their planes and develop new safety standards. And she trained a generation of proteges in forensic ornithology, forever changing our understanding of birds — and the feathers they leave behind. Chris Sweeney is a journalist based in Boston. This story was excerpted from by Chris Sweeney. Copyright © 2025 by Chris Sweeney. Reprinted by permission of Avid Reader Press, an imprint of Simon & Schuster, LLC. Send comments to magazine@ Learn More: Chris Sweeney will appear in conversation with Globe editor Lisa Weidenfeld on July 23 at 7 p.m. at Brookline Booksmith. To register and for more information, visit
