In chapter three, we are introduced to the fine time, a bar frequented by law enforcement lawyers and politicians. We meet Carole Lombard, Ray Grandisha's girlfriend, as he turns to the comforts of smoke and drink after leaving the crime scene. Carol is a waitress at the fine time. At the end of the chapter, Ray Grandisha again reflects on the sense of evil that he felt at the crime scene.
Many Cones is a podcast novel based on true crime. The murders inspiring this crime fiction took place 30 miles from Chicago in Northwest Indiana, and captivated the area from the initial brutal crime scene all the way through and beyond discovery of a shockingly bizarre motive.
The drive to the “Fine Time” took thirty minutes. The bar was a drinker’s joint. Waitresses and bartenders knew your name, but left you alone to imbibe, if that was your pressing desire. Detectives, lawyers, politicians, and judges populated the place. Professional drinkers. Twenty-seven stools fronting a three-quarter horseshoe bar. Twenty tables providing seating if you weren’t drinking alone. Nice atmosphere. Conducive to curing what ailed you. For a night, anyway.
Ray Grandisha sat at the bar. It was after midnight and only about thirty patrons remained. Grandisha knew half of them and acknowledgements were exchanged.
Ramon, the bartender, served Ray his scotch. No words, just facial expressions. Ramon knew when to serve and when to chatter. The look on Ray’s face told him no chatter. Plus, news of the double murder had reached the bar an hour earlier.
Ray took a sip of his rocks chilled liquid and let it slowly trickle down his throat. Magic elixir. He set his glass down and subconsciously stirred the ice with his finger. Still robotic, he shook a Pall Mall up from the pack and took it with his lips. A battered zippo completed the task. Lungs inflated, Ray Grandisha was ready to re-enter reality.
Attached to the bar area, but in a separate room, was the dining area. The kitchen closed at 11:30 but some parties remained. To most, after dinner drinks were considered part of the meal.
Ray’s current girlfriend, Carol Lombard, was a waitress at the “Fine Time” and happened to be serving the diners. They were working on a two-week relationship. He saw her pass by and tried to catch her attention. She joined him at the bar, in the middle of his second scotch.
“Hi baby,” she said as she sat.
“Hey, Carol Lombard without the E.”
Carol took her turn. “You’re the only person I ever met who uses my full name. Tell me again....”
Ray played on. “I can’t believe Carole Lombarde is sitting next to me.”
“And how come I don’t know who Carole Lombarde is?”
Ray responded, “Because you’re thirty something.”
Carol accepted his explanation, again, and relaxed in her chair. “I heard about the killings; is that where you were?”
Ray was finishing his drink. As he was setting the glass on the bar, he said, “Yeah, I was there.”
Carol turned sideways and stared at him for a few seconds. “What happened?”
“Two people were butchered. Husband and wife.”
Carol asked, “Drug deal gone bad?”
Chapter 3
The drive to the “Fine Time” took thirty minutes. The bar was a drinker’s joint. Waitresses and bartenders knew your name, but left you alone to imbibe, if that was your pressing desire. Detectives, lawyers, politicians, and judges populated the place. Professional drinkers. Twenty-seven stools fronting a three-quarter horseshoe bar. Twenty tables providing seating if you weren’t drinking alone. Nice atmosphere. Conducive to curing what ailed you. For a night, anyway.
Ray Grandisha sat at the bar. It was after midnight and only about thirty patrons remained. Grandisha knew half of them and acknowledgements were exchanged.
Ramon, the bartender, served Ray his scotch. No words, just facial expressions. Ramon knew when to serve and when to chatter. The look on Ray’s face told him no chatter. Plus, news of the double murder had reached the bar an hour earlier.
Ray took a sip of his rocks chilled liquid and let it slowly trickle down his throat. Magic elixir. He set his glass down and subconsciously stirred the ice with his finger. Still robotic, he shook a Pall Mall up from the pack and took it with his lips. A battered zippo completed the task. Lungs inflated, Ray Grandisha was ready to re-enter reality.
Attached to the bar area, but in a separate room, was the dining area. The kitchen closed at 11:30 but some parties remained. To most, after dinner drinks were considered part of the meal.
Ray’s current girlfriend, Carol Lombard, was a waitress at the “Fine Time” and happened to be serving the diners. They were working on a two-week relationship. He saw her pass by and tried to catch her attention. She joined him at the bar, in the middle of his second scotch.
“Hi baby,” she said as she sat.
“Hey, Carol Lombard without the E.”
Carol took her turn. “You’re the only person I ever met who uses my full name. Tell me again....”
Ray played on. “I can’t believe Carole Lombarde is sitting next to me.”
“And how come I don’t know who Carole Lombarde is?”
Ray responded, “Because you’re thirty something.”
Carol accepted his explanation, again, and relaxed in her chair. “I heard about the killings; is that where you were?”
Ray was finishing his drink. As he was setting the glass on the bar, he said, “Yeah, I was there.”
Carol turned sideways and stared at him for a few seconds. “What happened?”
“Two people were butchered. Husband and wife.”
Carol asked, “Drug deal gone bad?”
Ramon was in the process of serving Ray’s third scotch. Once the filled glass was in its proper place, Ray stirred the rocks. “I don’t think so. It didn’t feel like drugs.”
Carol continued to sit sideways. “Robbery?”
Ray corrected her, “You mean burglary?”
“Robbery, burglary... you know what I mean.”
“Their apartment was ransacked, but burglars aren’t usually so violent.”
“Then what?” Carol persisted.
Ray finally turned to face her. “I don’t know.”
Ramon approached and spoke for the first time. “Last call, Ray. Another hit?”
Ray drained his glass and said, “Yeah, I should.”
Carol swung back to face the bar. She executed various motions adjusting her uniform. Her final actions involved something to do with the tops of her shoulders.
Grandisha caught her movement out of the corner of his eye. He rotated his head a quarter turn. “What are you doing? You look like you’re calling a twenty second time out.”
Carol finished correcting her things. “This damn bra rides up. It’s been bothering me all night.” She watched as Ray fumbled in his pocket and then laid a twenty on the bar. Ramon served the last drink, took the twenty and returned with change.
As Ray began sipping the drink, Carol said, “Baby, are you gonna be any good to me tonight?”
“For a while, but don’t count on anything memorable,” Grandisha answered.
“What’s memorable?” Carol asked, half seriously.
“Multiple orgasms?” Ray said after a few seconds.
Carol sank back in her stool and smirked. “I think one would be memorable.”
They went to Ray’s apartment. They always went there. Carol lived with her mother and twelve-year-old daughter. The mother gave Carol slack. She took advantage of it.
Ray loved large breasts. Carol’s large breasts were unusually erogenous. They worked well together. Since both had worked full days, and then some, they showered first. Then between the sheets.
Foreplay lasted all of five minutes, including the trip from the shower to the bed. Ray devoted the entire time to kneading, squeezing, and sucking. He was a bit intoxicated and his tactile motor skills were slow and exaggerated. Carol found the snail’s pace activity to be erotic. She encouraged him to maintain the tempo and to increase the pressure. Her suggestions fell on deaf ears.
Somewhere, in Ray’s mind, a time clock expired. Having enjoyed himself, he turned on his back, assisted Carol to an astride position, inserted himself and quickly came.
As he lay on his back, spent, he noticed Carol, still astraddle, gazing at him. He had to ask. “Was it memorable?”
She shook her head and smiled understandingly. “No baby, it wasn’t.”
Ray exhaled guiltily. “Maybe next time.”
“I can wait. Want a cigarette?”
Grandisha closed his eyes briefly and said, “I’d kill for one. But I can’t move. Would you get them?”
Carol slowly dismounted, found the pack and tossed them. He fired one up. Ray moved from the center of the mattress and Carol climbed back in. She snuggled against Ray, one large breast covering one of his nipples. “What’s wrong baby? You wanna talk about it?”
As he was stroking her breast with his free hand, Ray said, “No. It’s work. I just need to get over it.”
“Get over what, baby?”
Ray said, “This feeling I have.”
“What feeling?”
Ray took a deep breath. He continued stroking Carol’s breast. “I guess the best way to describe it is goodness and evil.”
Ray was silent for a few seconds. He knew she was working him. Not because she was curious. She had been around the block enough times to realize that talk was good for the soul. He decided to share his thoughts. “I can handle crimes. I know that people rob and rape and murder. I can go to a murder scene, look around, and guess or feel why it happened. I can live with that. People do bad things to other people. But always for a reason.... with this hack job tonight, I’m not picking up anything but evil.”
“Can’t evil be a reason?”
Ray asked, “You mean like an evil person?”
“Yeah.”
“Sure. But then you have a reason. A bad, mean, evil person. In trouble all his life. Mean all his life. You look at the victim and think, ‘Look what this fucking psycho did.’ This is different.”
Carol inquired, “How can it be different?”
“I don’t know if I can explain it... I have a friend who’s a priest. Years ago he agreed to go visit a parishioner’s brother in a criminal mental asylum. He dressed like a regular person. No collar or priest garb. As he was walking down the hallway, some of the patients became upset. Nothing major but enough that he was asked to leave. He said he felt a damp chill. Not directed against him, but what he stood for.”
Carol responded, “Jesus, baby, I didn’t know you were religious.”
“I’m not. It’s not about religion. It’s about that damp chill.”
Ray had been unconsciously stroking Carol’s full, bare breast during the entire time they had been talking. He stopped and rested his hand on his own chest. “Aren’t you glad you came tonight?”
Carol smiled, shook her head and said, “I didn’t, you did.”
Ray chuckled. “Yeah, well, thanks. For everything.”
Carol propped herself up with her elbow and hand. “I’d better be going. Are you gonna be okay?”
“Yeah. The conversation helped. Thanks again. Can you spend the night?”
“I’d love to. But my daughter is reaching an age where she asks me questions if I’m not home when she gets up. Plus, I don’t want to burn my mom. She’s been really good to me.”
Carol sat up and swung her legs off the bed. Ray watched her dress. When she was ready, he threw on an old robe and walked her to the door. As she strode out, he said, “Bye Carol Lombard, without the E.”