John Wayne Gacy (5 page)

John remembered that it was his duty to call his mother and tell her about the death of Uncle Harold. He had volunteered to be the one to notify her the night before. He was worried, however, about how long his mother would keep him on the goddamn telephone. He had shit to do. He decided that she would just have to understand that he had business to attend to and would have to cut the phone call short.

When Richard Raphael arrived at John Gacy’s house with another business associate and friend, Gordon Nebel, at 7:00 a.m. sharp, Gacy had shit, showered and shaved, let the dog out, called his mom, made coffee, and put out a coffee cake. He greeted them with his standard-issue ear-to-ear smile. There was absolutely no hint that anything was amiss. The fact that John had failed to make the appointment the night before was quickly forgotten, especially when his guests heard about poor Uncle Harold.

The Chicago Bears had lost Coach Jack Pardee to the Washington Redskins at the end of the 1977 season, and the new coach, Neil Armstrong, was leading the team to a dismal, losing season in 1978. This became the topic of discussion between the men for the first part of the meeting. “Fuckin’ Bears,” they all agreed. The one bright spot: the Bears had beaten the hated Green Bay Packers, 14–0, on Sunday and were looking forward to a grudge match against Pardee’s Redskins next weekend.

Soon the conversation turned to business; however, just as the men began to get to the crux of the intended issues for discussion, a shopping center job, the phone rang. John considered letting the answering machine get it but thought better of that. He went ahead and answered the telephone while Raphael and Nebel continued to discuss the job. As it turned out, the phone call would prove to be somewhat important, at least to John.

“Mr. Gacy, my name is Officer Adams from the Des Plaines Police Department. We are investigating the disappearance of a teenage boy that worked at Nisson Pharmacy. We understand that you were at the pharmacy last night, and we are wondering if you could help us out.”

The blood drained from Gacy’s face, and his heart jumped into his mouth; but outwardly he appeared quite calm. “How can I help you?” John asked tentatively. “What could I possibly do?”

“Well, the parents of the boy are very concerned, as you might imagine. They are here at the station with me right now, and we were wondering if you could shed any light on this matter. The boy’s name is Robert Piest. There is some indication that he was going to ask you for a job. Did he do that, Mr. Gacy? Did you meet or talk to him last night?”

“I met several kids at the pharmacy. Most of them were girls. I saw boys working there. Was this kid tall or short? I did not talk to any of the boys, or, at least, not to get their names. I talked to Linda with the brown hair and glasses. I might have asked one boy if there was any more shelving in the back. I don’t know … does that help?”

“Did any young man ask you for a job, or did you offer a job to any of the young men?”

“Absolutely not … no, I did not. No job offer.”

“Did you see or talk to any of the employees outside of the pharmacy … after you left the pharmacy?”

“There was a kid taking out trash.”

“Did you speak to him?

“No, why would I? No, of course I didn’t. I just got into my truck and left.”

“Did you see anything at all that seemed unusual, sir?”

“I’ll be honest with you, Officer—I just got into my truck and left. I wasn’t paying a lot of attention to the pharmacy at that time. I was finished there.”

“I see. Well, let me give you a number to call in case you think of something that might help us. Would that be OK? Do you have a pen, sir?”

“Yeah, sure …” John scratched out a number on a piece of paper and hung up the phone.

John Gacy downplayed the hell out of the importance of the call when his business associates asked him what it was all about. “It was nothing. Some kid is missing, and he worked at a place where I was bidding a job last night. They wondered if I saw anything. No big deal. Cops … what the fuck do they know?” The men were back to business without much hesitation.

When the meeting broke up later that day and John was once again alone in his house, he busied himself with paperwork and mundane chores. Of course, he knew that he had a pressing task ahead of him, but it was broad daylight, not the best time of day to dispose of a body. He called Nisson Pharmacy at approximately 5:00 p.m. Larry Torf answered, and John asked if Phil was around. Phil and John were closer friends than John and Larry were, and John thought he might be able to pry information about the police investigation out of Phil without making him suspicious. To John’s dismay, Phil was not in. Therefore, John spoke to Larry about the job, asking if the glass company had communicated with him, if delivery had been set up—perfunctory nonsense to justify the call.

John had made plans to take his aunt Leone and her daughter, Joyce, out to dinner, and he believed that his best course of action was to go about his normal business. To that end, he was in front
of Leone’s house at 6:00 p.m., as planned. He had no idea whether or not unknown forces were gathering against him, but he figured that he might as well not worry about things that had not yet happened. There would be plenty of time to worry about such things once they happened—if they happened. He was a bit concerned about the call from Officer Adams; however, what could he do about it? He decided to put it out of his mind. After all, what did cops know? He took Leone and Joyce to the Sizzler Restaurant on Harlem Avenue near the Harlem Irving Plaza and had a nice dinner where he further consoled his loved ones and reminisced about good old Uncle Harold.

When John returned home, he called his employee and friend Michael Rossi. They had previously spoken about going out to procure a Christmas tree for Gacy’s house. Rossi said he would come over around 9:00 p.m. or a little after that.

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W
HAT
J
OHN
G
ACY
did not know was that forces were, in fact, conspiring against him, so to speak; and, perhaps, he should have been worried—very worried.

When Rob Piest did not return home the previous evening, his parents sprang into action. They did not wait. They did not dally. They knew their son. His two siblings knew their brother. Rob would not have just disappeared without a word. He was not a troubled kid. He was not a runaway. He was a good, responsible, conscientious young man who had a great relationship with a loving, caring, attentive family. After calling all of Rob’s closest friends and acquaintances, calling Nisson Pharmacy and speaking with Phil Torf and obtaining John Gacy’s home number, after personally calling John Gacy’s house and talking to an answering machine, Harold Piest, together with his wife, Elizabeth, and their children, Ken and Kerry, decided it was time to go to the police. The family did not want to admit it, but they all knew something was very wrong.

Missing person reports had always been considered routine by police departments all across the country. In many cases, it was stated policy to wait twenty-four hours before even beginning the concerted process that went into a lengthy and expensive search. This was not because the police departments, and their collective members, did not care deeply about each missing person reported. It was because so often, frankly, in most cases, the reported missing person would turn up in short order with some lame and embarrassing excuse concerning where they were, or, particularly in the case of teenagers, the missing person had voluntarily, purposefully left home, the typical runaway. Therefore, it was often a tall hurdle for the family of a missing person to impress upon a specific desk sergeant or watch commander that their “missing” person was somehow different from all of the other “missing” persons.

This was not a problem for the members of the Piest family, however. When the four remaining members of the Harold Piest family walked into the Des Plaines Police Department sometime just before 11:00 p.m., united in their purpose and solidified in their resolve, they were a force of nature. They first spoke to the watch officer, George Konieczny.

Although Officer Konieczny explained that at that hour all he could do was take down the information regarding Rob’s disappearance and move it through the system—and he advised the Piest family that they should go home and wait for a call from the detective in charge of the case—he was inspired by the obvious concern that was evident on the part of the family. He finished his report at 11:50 p.m. and added a personal note to the report, which emphasized the concern and believability of the family with whom he had met. He had his watch commander sign off on the report and immediately transmitted the pertinent information contained therein to the radio room. The statistical information contained in the City of Des Plaines Police Department case report #78-35203 concerning Robert Jerome Piest, male, Caucasian, age fifteen, slender to medium build, brown
hair, brown eyes, tan Levi’s jeans, white T-shirt, brown suede shoes, light blue nylon parka, last seen in the area of 1920 Touhy Avenue, Des Plaines, was sent out to every Illinois jurisdiction over LEADS (Law Enforcement Agencies Data System) within two hours.

The Piest family left the police station and drove the short distance to the family home. They were beside themselves with worry. They had no intention of waiting for word from some unnamed, yet-to-be–assigned-to-the-case detective. They immediately split up into a makeshift search party using the two family German shepherds to assist them. Harold, Ken, and Kerry spent the entire night searching every dark corner of the city of Des Plaines and the immediate surrounding area while Elizabeth stared at the silent telephone, waiting for it to ring, and wept. If Rob was hurt and in some bushes or in a forest preserve somewhere, they were going to find him. They could not sit idly by while the wheels of the government bureaucracy slowly churned.

At 8:30 a.m., the exhausted, sleep-deprived troop trudged back into the Des Plaines Police Department. They asked the officer at the front desk if they could see the youth officer assigned to the case. At least they could put a name and a face to the person that would be helping them find Rob.

They were led past bustling uniformed officers attending to this and that, the organized chaos of the inner offices of a busy police department. Finally, they were shown into a conference room where Officer Ronald Adams joined them, holding a copy of Officer Konieczny’s report. Officer Adams perused the report and eyed the personal Post-it note attached. He looked at the determined family in front of him, and he too was immediately convinced that this was no typical runaway case. He had been in the youth division for six years and had handled many claims of “missing” teens. Experience told him that this claim was real. He suspected foul play but did not tell the family that. He asked the Piests to remain in the conference room while he went to his office and began making telephone calls.

When Officer Adams retuned to the conference room about a half hour later, he did not have good news.

“I spoke to Phil Torf. He has not seen or heard from Rob. I asked him about Mr. Gacy. He confirms that Mr. Gacy was at the store twice last night, once to discuss a remodeling job and again because he forgot his appointment book. He does confirm that Mr. Gacy had mentioned that he too hired highschool boys to work for his contracting business. This was in the context of a conversation concerning Mr. Torf’s many young highschool–aged employees. Mr. Torf never saw Rob talking to Mr. Gacy. He said that after you called him last night, he called Mr. Gacy but spoke only to the answering machine. Mr. Gacy has not yet returned the call.”

Officer Adams was looking at an array of disappointed and dejected faces.

“I also talked to Mr. Gacy …”

These words elicited an immediate response.

“You talked to him?” was the chorus from the momentarily hopeful family.

“Yes, I talked to him. He confirms that he was at the pharmacy last night but insists that he did not meet Rob or speak to him. He says he did not offer anyone a job.”

After all faces fell, Officer Adams went on to explain that at Phil Torf’s suggestion, he had also talked to Kim Byers, another young employee at the pharmacy. She specifically stated that at around 9:00 p.m., Rob had told her that “that contractor guy wants to talk to me” just before he ran out the door. However, she had not actually seen Rob talking to Mr. Gacy either inside or outside the pharmacy.

Then Officer Adams launched into an all-too-practiced soliloquy about the necessity for the family to allow the police to do their job. It was a bad idea and quite improper for family members to intrude into an ongoing missing person investigation, and at times, it could be dangerous. It was best if the family went home
and waited for developments. They would be the first persons contacted, of course, as soon as there was any update in the search.

The family thanked the officer and left the station, dejected and broken, their hopes for a quick resolution to their nightmare dashed.

Officer Adams later discussed the matter with his lieutenant, Joseph Kozenczak. He was not in any way giving up on the case. Lieutenant Kozenczak, after having read Konieczny’s report with the personal note attached and having discussed the facts with Adams, was easily convinced that the matter was urgent. He gave the goahead to pursue the matter posthaste with an emphasis on their suspect and the last person reported to have seen Rob Piest, one John Wayne Gacy; and he assigned another officer, James Pickell, to help out. At 3:00 p.m., a fourth member of the force joined the team working on the case. A young detective, Mike Olsen, came in early to help the others. He and Adams used a copy of the Maine West Highschool student directory, which had been given to them by the Piest family, to contact all of Rob’s friends from school.

The other officers used police channels and shoe leather to check to see if Mr. Gacy had a criminal record of any kind and for any other pertinent information about the case.

By the evening of December 12, the Des Plaines police knew the following about case #78-35203 and the suspect, John Wayne Gacy: