Chapter 32 starts with a convoy to Albert Moffit's house.
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.
It was almost noon under a pleasant Saturday sun, as the convoy proceeded to Albert Moffit’s house. No sirens or lights for this venture. Grandisha was driving the lead vehicle. Margie was navigating. She also wanted to make sure she had a correct understanding of what really had occurred. “My tailing job, yesterday, when I followed the Sparne Kid to Moffit’s, never occurred, right?”
Ray nodded his head. “That’s correct. Nothing you did yesterday occurred. You were home, recovering.”
“That’s two things I was involved in recently that never occurred.
Grandisha shot a questioning glance at her, then understood. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.
Margie shook her head. “No. I thought about it because of Gina Drozler, and what those two fuckers did to her... They basically did the same thing to me. We were both naked in front of you... You saved both of us... You’re a regular knight in shining armor.”
“So how come I can’t maintain a relationship?”
“I can’t help you with that... I just wanted to thank you, again.”
Ray smiled at her and said, “For what?”
Margie laughed. “That’s right. Nothing occurred.” She sat quietly for a few minutes, then continued, “What’s gonna happen here?”
“I don’t know. After you called, during your non-existent tailing job, I ran the computer on this guy. Nothing. No arrests. No problems. Just him and his wife. No kids. He’s some kind of salesman. He’s a non-entity.”
“Do we rush the house, or knock and get invited in.” Margie asked.
“Oh, we’ll go in gangbusters. If that’s a mistake, we can apologize, and they can sue the department. But, I don’t think it’s a mistake. This guy’s connected in a major way to those two. I just don’t know how, or why.”
Margie came to attention and alerted Ray. “There it is. On the corner. That red brick house.”
Grandisha parked in front of the residence. Two vehicles parked behind him, the others on the side street. It was a quiet, older neighborhood. No one was working on lawns. Moffit’s was overgrown, the others had been tended recently.
They gathered at the street corner. Ray explained what he wanted done. Everyone understood. One group approached the front door, and another group the side.
Albert Moffitt hadn’t moved from the divan since hurrying Sparne and Morales out the night before. Modern technology provided him with twenty four hour access to a wide range of gifted bible thumpers. He no longer understood the spoken English drawl that was spewing from the set ninety five percent of the time. But that was okay. That part wasn’t important.
At some point during the night, Albert used the remote to increase the volume. It had remained blaring. Every half hour or so, a few lines of the special language, the tongues, came through clearly. He understood the sing song banter perfectly. It mostly praised him. Even when it didn’t, it still mentioned his name.
Chapter 32
It was almost noon under a pleasant Saturday sun, as the convoy proceeded to Albert Moffit’s house. No sirens or lights for this venture. Grandisha was driving the lead vehicle. Margie was navigating. She also wanted to make sure she had a correct understanding of what really had occurred. “My tailing job, yesterday, when I followed the Sparne Kid to Moffit’s, never occurred, right?”
Ray nodded his head. “That’s correct. Nothing you did yesterday occurred. You were home, recovering.”
“That’s two things I was involved in recently that never occurred.
Grandisha shot a questioning glance at her, then understood. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.
Margie shook her head. “No. I thought about it because of Gina Drozler, and what those two fuckers did to her... They basically did the same thing to me. We were both naked in front of you... You saved both of us... You’re a regular knight in shining armor.”
“So how come I can’t maintain a relationship?”
“I can’t help you with that... I just wanted to thank you, again.”
Ray smiled at her and said, “For what?”
Margie laughed. “That’s right. Nothing occurred.” She sat quietly for a few minutes, then continued, “What’s gonna happen here?”
“I don’t know. After you called, during your non-existent tailing job, I ran the computer on this guy. Nothing. No arrests. No problems. Just him and his wife. No kids. He’s some kind of salesman. He’s a non-entity.”
“Do we rush the house, or knock and get invited in.” Margie asked.
“Oh, we’ll go in gangbusters. If that’s a mistake, we can apologize, and they can sue the department. But, I don’t think it’s a mistake. This guy’s connected in a major way to those two. I just don’t know how, or why.”
Margie came to attention and alerted Ray. “There it is. On the corner. That red brick house.”
Grandisha parked in front of the residence. Two vehicles parked behind him, the others on the side street. It was a quiet, older neighborhood. No one was working on lawns. Moffit’s was overgrown, the others had been tended recently.
They gathered at the street corner. Ray explained what he wanted done. Everyone understood. One group approached the front door, and another group the side.
Albert Moffitt hadn’t moved from the divan since hurrying Sparne and Morales out the night before. Modern technology provided him with twenty four hour access to a wide range of gifted bible thumpers. He no longer understood the spoken English drawl that was spewing from the set ninety five percent of the time. But that was okay. That part wasn’t important.
At some point during the night, Albert used the remote to increase the volume. It had remained blaring. Every half hour or so, a few lines of the special language, the tongues, came through clearly. He understood the sing song banter perfectly. It mostly praised him. Even when it didn’t, it still mentioned his name.
He hadn’t eaten, drank or used the washroom. Albert discovered his bodily functions worked fine, sitting on the divan. And he didn’t have to worry about missing the messages. His wife didn’t object and the odor, although fetid, was bearable.
The drapes on the picture windows behind the television were three quarters open. They had been for a couple of days. Albert’s eyes reacted to the activity in front of his house, but none of it registered in his brain. He had no intention of answering the door ever again, so people coming to visit didn’t concern him. As a loud crash sprang from the front door, a silver haired video guest asked Albert a question. He answered secretly, as various people stormed into his house.
Grandisha heard the loud voices coming from the home, as he had reached the porch. A stench was also readily apparent. Margie was directly behind him. She covered her nose and gagged “My God. What the hell is that smell?”
Ray shook his head and mumbled, “I’m afraid to guess.”
One of the officers gave Grandisha a large sledge hammer. He swung the black maul and shattered the lock, then followed his momentum through the door. A man and woman were seated on the couch. Neither acknowledged him. The rank odor almost brought him to his knees.
Margie was the second person in. She sidestepped Ray, and proceeded deeper into the front room. Despite her years of police work, she looked skyward and screamed, “Oh my God, No.” Her hand reflexively covered her eyes and nose as she turned away.
The other officers stopped in their tracks; most hung their heads. The ones from the side door had also arrived. Their reaction was the same.
Mrs. Moffit had a steel claw hammer buried in her skull, the handle at ninety degrees to the back curve of her cranium. Maggots sluiced through rivulets of dried blood parting her hair, and had periodically dropped to her face and lap.
Ray let the others deal with the dead woman. He stood between Albert and the television. Moffit spoke some type of gibberish to him. Grandisha tried to understand, tried to ask him some questions, but was unsuccessful in getting him to communicate. They had a difficult time prying him up and handcuffing him, but were finally successful. Two uniformed officers transported him to the station.
Ray and Margie spent over four hours going through the house and office. He dispatched other teams to arrest the bit players, deciding it was more important for him to remain and decipher what happened.
Grandisha was in Moffit’s office rifling through the filing cabinet, when John Lupico walked in. The coroner had been in the front room dealing with the body.
Ray acknowledged him and said, “Well?”
Lupico said, “Good evening to you, too, Ray.”
Grandisha tiredly chuckled, then said, “Hi John. Fancy seeing you here... Good enough?”
“I guess so... I hear you’ve been busy today. Your gamble paid off. Someone called.”
Ray ignored the statement, and repeated, “Well?”
Lupico got down to business. “Well... She’s been dead for three or four days. I can narrow it down later, but at least three days.”
Ray interjected, “And this fucking guy’s been sitting next to her the whole time. I thought I’d seen it all.”
Lupico asked, “Have you found any connections yet? To the kids or victims?”
“Not yet. All I have so far is what the Capone wanna be said, but that’s pure bullshit.”
“I’ve sent the body to the morgue. If you don’t need me, I’m going to leave.”
Grandisha finally smiled at his friend. “Have a nice night, John. I don’t need you for anything.”
Twenty minutes after Lupico left, Margie walked into Moffit’s office. Ray was seated at the desk, his forehead buried in cupped hands. Margie couldn’t tell if he was crying or sleeping. There were two beige files on the desk, touching his elbows. “Ray, are you okay?” She half whispered.
He looked up, heaved a sigh, and handed her the dinner coupon book file. Margie opened it, and stopped at the first name on the list. He handed her the poker machine file. She opened it, read the list, and stopped at the last name.
She pulled one of the chairs to the front of the desk and sat. She returned the beige files. “So that’s it? Those people, that place, were names on a list? My husband was killed because he was in a bar whose name was at the bottom of a list?”
“I am so sorry, Margie. Pure, random selection. We couldn’t have stopped the first one, but we had a chance at the second one. I’m sorry I didn’t see it.”
“What are you talking about?” Margie asked, surprise clearly in her voice.
Ray picked up the dinner coupon book file. “We had this. We had the cancelled check to the church. If we would have backtracked a few more levels we would have found Moffit. Maybe he would have been suspicious enough for us to bring him in. I don’t know.”
Margie’s eyes misted. “Are you crazy? There's no way in the world we could have connected Moffit to this. No one in their right mind would have gone back to suppliers...”
She was quiet for a short time, becoming aware of Ray’s pain. “Are you ready to head back to the office yet? Let’s let these people finish their work. We’re in the way.”
Grandisha started his bulk in motion, faked a smile and said, “You’re right. Let’s go.”
They spent a couple hours filling out reports. The Lieutenant set all the wheels in motion for the follow up.
Regis Cahan had waited at the station for hours, finally left and went to the hospital to see Gina. Grandisha returned too late to see him. He left a note thanking everyone.
Grandisha, sitting alone in his office, caught Margie’s eye and waved for her to come in. She drug herself in, plopped down, and said, “I can’t type another word.”
Ray said, “Neither can I. I’m gonna stop for a drink. Would you care for one?”
She sighed, “I thought you’d never ask.”