Tell Your Story
INKSMUDGE gave a great story under the EWWWW and ICCCCKKK story posted yesterday. But it gave me the idea to ask for your "crime" story. Please keep 'em true: okay? But if you've had a brush with something weird or seen a crime go down and want to share it -- here's the spot. And I just might use some of them in a novel. But please, no fiction -- that'll just muck it up.



32 Comments:
Well, if having four cars stolen in the time I have lived in Miami is a crime story, there you go. One is actually kind of funny. I am not a morning person and usually work on remote control. So one day, I got up, took my shower, got dressed, went outside, got in my car and drove to work. About twenty minutes later, my husband called me and asked if I had noticed that when I left his car wasn't there. It had been stolen the night before and in my usual morning daze I had completely missed the fact that there was now an empty space where there used to be a car. Probably nothing book worthy, but luckily, the only crimes we have experienced here in Miami. Carol
Short version: In my 20's I worked as a mental health aide in a private mental hospital - I was working the graveyard shift, 3 units, 2 staff per unit. I was the token male. I went on my break and took a 1/2 hr nap. When I awoke, all the staff were gone. I finally found them locked in one of the 3 medication rooms, where they told me they'd been tied up and robbed by 2 guys, one of whom carried a shotgun and asked ominously several times where "the man" was (to their credit, they none of them told him I was asleep in the lounge 30 feet down the hall). After freeing the other staff I had to drive down the road to call the police, because all of the phone lines had been cut. The cops figured it was a disgruntled ex-employee (is there any other kind?), and they mostly stole the drugs from the med rooms.
Walking down deserted corridors at 3am expecting to run into a guy with a shotgun isn't much fun...
I used to work for the local police department as a dispatcher 2nd shift I got off around 11 p.m. one night and headed on my merry way home about half way I realized that I was being followed so I called my husband (we had only been married about a year) and told him that I thought someone was following me as I turn into our then apartment complex the people behind me turned into the shopping center and raced and cut me off to keep from going into the complex(I still have my husband on the phone) and he tells me to stomp it and go around them or hit them if I have too - I managed to get around them and raced inside to the apartment with my husband still standing outside, oh yeah with his gun and the car drove off - I called in to work and told them the make, model of the car and a police unit came and we decided to go to bed at this time since the police would be there soon the next day at work I inquired about it and they go yeah where you the one who called it in? I said yeah. The police told me the "thugs" were getting ready to rob somebody at the complex. They had a couple guns with them - police ran a check on them and they were wanted for several other robberies in town. Needless to say that is when my heart stopped because I realized how close I came. Of course this has been about 14 years ago.
I guess this doesn't compare to Jamester - holy smokes!
correction that was about 11 years ago - duh!
On the other hand, Dawn, I never actually saw the guys, so maybe you win...
Geeez guys, that's some scary stuff! My stories are about plain old $. When we were still in Ca. our checking account statements arrived and lo and behold there were checks in there (this was when they still cancelled the checks and sent them back to you) that we didn't recognize. Wrong info etc., but the right acct. # Someone had actually forged checks and written about 3k on the acct. The funny part was that one of the checks had been written to a guy that wrote in the memo section "Thanks Bob!" (My husband's name is Bob of course) LA fraud guys said there was a large check forgery ring operating in the area and they had someone inside the bank cashing the forgeries. Didn't cost us a thing, but the bank was out 3K.
When we first moved to Texas we took our boys to a popular Mexican restaurant where they take your credit card away to charge you. Several weeks later the bill arrives and there's a charge for about $187 to some place neither of us recognizes, so we call the place up and find out it's a phone sex business! After we exchanged the obligatory "Not me!" looks, we got them to remove the charges, but they asked if we recognized the # where the call originated from.Turns out that when you call this place, your phone # shows up on the credit card statement! Stupid criminal story ,I know. The police were very interested when we called. So beware!
Thanks Ridley for the nod. I actually had never told that story to anyone. I remember I was just so scared thinking about what could have happend that I ran back to my class and just sort of tried to forget about it because I felt really stupid. I remember wondering if I should tell the security people but then dismissing the idea because nothing really happend after all. I suppose it was just the "could a's" that scared me. Come to think about it I've had several "could a's" happen to me and I really do believe that the only thing that has saved me all these years is that I get a 'feeling' just before something happens that sort of warns me. I don't know what it is but I know it's there. Like the time years ago when I was a little girl and I was walking home from 1st grade. We lived near the corner where I went to school and I bugged my mother to death to let me walk home alone (she used to walk up to the corner and watch me cross the street). Finally she relented and said okay but if you are not home directly after school I will come looking for you and you will be in trouble (so don't dawdle). I was so proud that I was doing this on my own that I marched across the street and started towards home. Two houses away from home but directly across the street there lived a family who always had men standing outside the house drinking beer all day long (I remember they did not speak english, only spanish). They were always there and I had passed by them many times before but on this time they started calling out to me and making 'cat calls' that I did not really understand except to say that I new their intentions were not good. As two of the men started walking across the street towards me I turned and ran to the house I was standing in front of (my best friend at the time) but because the car was gone I knew nobody was at home. However I also knew that they had a dog a large Collie that actually hated men! She had a terrific bark and I also knew how to get into their gate by using a hidden chain that the kids had showen me in the gate to pull the latch up and get in. Once I was safe in the neighbors yard with "Cookie" the Collie I sat down between some plants the neighbor had in her yard and waited until the men left because "Cookie" was barking up a storm! I made it home by climbing the fence in the backyard and getting to my house which had a back house on the lot. Almost all the houses in our neighborhood had a second house on the same lot. Of course this was many, many years ago. So whatever this is that I "feel", it has served me well over the years. Tomorrow I'll tell you the story of a building that burned just after I left it.
This happened 8 years ago in Green Tree City.
To the world they were devout Catholics and the parents of six children. He ran a very successful construction company, she was a stay-at-home mom. After nearly 20 years of marriage, she had enough of the cruelty he hid from others, and she asked for a divorce.
Being a "devout Catholic" he refused.
And then strange things began to happen to her. Such as: after an evening out with him, she woke up hours later, naked, in her closet. She remembers nothing. He said she was talking crazy earlier that night. She told her family her wine tasted "off".
Her family thought he was gaslighting her. His family thought she was having a breakdown.
She called her father one day to come over and stay with her because she was afraid. When he arrived, the police were already there.
Her husband had called the police, saying she was missing. The police report states that numerous times, the husband asked the police to search the basement. He finally went downstairs himself and found her hanging from the ceiling.
An extremely heavy counter-weight was used. She was very petite, weighing slightly less than the weight.
So, did a devout Catholic mother of 6 kill herself to escape a cruel husband; or did a husband kill his wife so he wouldn't have to go through a divorce and lose a great deal of money; and stature in his community.
He remarried within a year.
The home in which they lived is about a half mile from the home of a mystery writer.
Ridley, I'll try to keep it short, but it's a long story. After my father passed away in 1992, I hired an attorney to handle his estate. He was my mother's attorney, and she trusted him. My father had some real estate holdinmgs that needed to be liquidated to pay the estate taxes. The Federal tax return was prepared, and we owed almost $600,000. I was the administrator, and the attorney asked me to write the check to the bank, so he could send a cashiers check to the IRS. We worked for a couple of years to get the money to pay the state taxes. Once that was done we could distribute the remainder. Before that was done, I saw the attorney's name listed in the State Bar newspaper as having resigned with discplinary charges pending. (I am an attorney.) I called him to see what was going on. He said that his software business was doing well, and he decided to stop practicing law, but he had a complaint against him by a disgruntled client. I said fine, just give me my file. When I got the file I noticed that almost $100,000 was missing, and that my signature had been forged on a number of checks totaling that amount. I confronted him with it, and he said he would get back to me. A few days later he called to tell me that he had hired a young man with AIDS as a favor to his priest. The young man had stolen the checks and forged my signature, then disappeared. I said, I didn't care why, I just wanted the money back. He said he new of an "angel" in the gay community who might be willing to pay the money back. Sure enough, he got the money and paid back every cent.
Over a year later, my accountant was preparing my taxes, and needed to verify some numbers. He called the IRS and was told that the estate tax return was never filed. I called the attorney, who said to leave it alone, because the IRS makes these mistakes all the time and if I stirred it up, it would only cause trouble. I said, like hell! Send me the tax return and prove that the taxes were paid. He said he would get back to me. He didn't. I next called his former secretary and was told that a few months earlier he had been arrested by the FBI for stealing over $200,000 from a client. He was in Italy on a vacation with his priest at the time he was caught. She referred me to an attorney that was representing the other client.
I called that attorney and found out that he had been convicted in that matter and was ordered to pay restitution. I retained this attorney to represent me. We filed a lawsuit and began investigating. We discovered that he had requested a cashiers check made out to him for about $560,000, and another for a couple of thousand to the IRS. We also discovered that he had passed through Zurich on his way to Rome, but had no explanation. He also had his priest open a bank account and sign blank checks so he could deposit and launder the money he was stealing from his clients. He told the priest he was doing this because his mother was involved in a business transaction, and he wanted to keep her name out of it. (The story was something like that, I have an audiotape of our investigator's interview with the priest if you're interested.) He told his first victim that he was borrowing money from a relative but he could not come up with the final $50,000 (I had to pay that from what I collected because he was first in priority). He had actually stolen the money from an elderly woman that he used to pay the first guy back. In fact he stole $50,000 more than he owed, shorted the guy $50,000, and pocketed the $100,000 difference. (These figures are roughly accurate.) He stalled us by telling us that he was going to borrow money from another relative, but never came through with it. He claimed he had spent the money on his failing software business, but he had no evidence to back it up. We finally convinced him to pretty much give us everything he owned, including his art collection, which we auctioned at Butterfield's (one of the items was auctioned for such a small sum, that I received a bill for $15 rather than any profit); his vacation home; the condo where his elderly mother lived (I don't know where she ended up); his car; and, a triplex he owned with another party. We also discovered that he had inflated the amount of the taxes owed, so as to take more money. Also, we found that he had been doing this on my mother's taxes for several years, pocketing several thousand dollars a year. The FBI finally called us because they were investigating another client's complaint. At that time he stopped talking to us. He was convicted and sentenced to about five years in prison. He had stolen at least $2.5M from a number of clients. He had no real explanation for where the money went. He was ordered to pay restitution, of which we received about $250 out of his prison wages. He was released about two years ago. He has paid no restitution since then, because the feds are collecting it at $10 a month and won't disburse it until they have collected several hundred dollars.
When we finally paid the overdue estate taxes, we were required to pay a 96% interest penalty. Although we did sell off the properties we took from him, our net loss was about $500K. I'm still convinced that he socked the money away in a Swiss account.
Sorry that was so long, but it is all true.
okay.. there's a slightly long set up for this one. Several years ago I worked for a (very) small answering service. The guy who owned it also operated an internet cafe out of the same building (cafe was downstairs, answering service was on a mezzanine floor). This was all on the ground floor of a 10 (I think) story building, on a corner and there was access to the rest of the building through a fire door. You still with me?
So it's a quiet Sunday morning, cool and rainy, so quiet that I'm working on my own, and I'm not that busy. A guy (average looks, but kinda scruffy) comes into the internet cafe part (which we're responsible for also) and calls out. When I get off the phone I offer to help him. He asked if he could go through the back of our offices to get into the other building because he's been locked out and he left his bike in there on Friday. I told him that I wasn't allowed to let people in, and then the phone rang again, and I answered it. While I was doing this, I heard a lock click, and saw the guy walk into our office and straight through into the main building. I get off the phone asap and (all action, no brain involvement here) go running downstairs and into the other building, but I can't see where he's gone, and I know parts are alarmed, so I can't go far into the other building. So I go upstairs, field another call, and it's a client, who wants to chat.. so we're talking, and the talk turns to fires and fireplaces. I said "It must be the conversation, but I swear I can smell smoke.." and laughed it off. A minute later, I said "The smell's getting worse.. I'm going to have to go and check it out, make sure everything's okay.." came downstairs and bumped into the guy from earlier, this time with a bike. I said to him "Do you smell smoke?" and he said "Yeah, I just lit a fire back there." and he pushed past me, walked out of the building and biked off. I just stood there, slack-jawed. Then the alarms started and I went into fight mode. (I do kind of wish I didn't have to tell you the next bit, but if I'm being honest this has to be included). In all my wisdom, pretty much alone in a building that's on fire, with alarms going off.. I ran back upstairs to call the fire service. Oh, and did I mention there's a phone box directly across the street from the office? So I relayed details, then panicked, grabbed my bag and ran out and downstairs, and stood in the drizzle till the firemen came.
Creepier than all of that? At one point, while I was watching the firemen, and waiting for the boss to arrive? The arsonsist biked back up next to me, stood there and watched the fire with me. I was in shock, or that's my excuse and I'm sticking with it, because it didn't even occur to me to dob him in to someone official at the time. I went down to the police station afterwards and pored through loads of mugshot albums, but I never figured out who he was.
Oh, and the fire? Some burned cardboard boxes and smoke damage, but the internal sprinklers put it out pretty much before the firemen could get there.
These are FANTASTIC. Thanks, and please keep them coming!
Ridley
WE were having an Open House because our house was up for sale. My husband and I were told to leave and come back later. We did. Several days (or maybe a week) later I started receiving notices from my bank that checks were bouncing due to insufficient funds.
To cut to the chase, here's what happened:
During the Open House a long white limo pulled up and 2 men came in the house, the driver and the passenger who was a man dressed flashy with many gold chains.
The driver chatted up the female realtor while Gold Chain Man went through the drawers in my nightstand, found a box of checks, took a pack from the bottom! and then they left. He started writing checks to drain the account. The worst part was that he PRINTED the signature and the bank never even noticed.
By the time the police were notified, they had left town, and presumably were doing the same scam elsewhere.
They were well known to the authorities, but always too quick to be caught.
About 10 years ago, I was stage managing a community theatre production of “A Few Good Men” (117 light cues in the first act alone.) About 10 minutes before opening, I was called to the lobby for an important phone call. It was my 17-year-old daughter, whom I hadn’t seen since 7:00 that morning when she left to drive to a vocal music contest in Peoria. My daughter started crying and said, “Mom, I was robbed this morning – and he had a gun!” I finally got the story out of her. She was picking up Frank, another student, who lived in a bad part of town. She was driving very slowly because she wasn’t sure which house was Frank’s when a man opened her passenger door, jumped in and pulled a gun on her. He made her drive him across town, took $40 from her wallet, then got out and ran off. Now, remember, this conversation is taking place in a lobby full of theatre patrons.
Me: “Did he hurt you?”
Her: “No, but he took all the money I had!”
Me: ”Did you call the police?”
Her: “No, I went back to get Frank because we were already late and he had a solo!”
Me: “Call the police now.”
Her: “No. They’ll yell at me.”
Me: “Did you tell your father what happened?”
Her: “No. He’ll yell at me.”
By now, it’s 3 minutes before opening, I need to call “Places”, there are 300 people in the auditorium, and nobody else knows those light cues.
I barked, “Put your father on the phone.” When my husband picked up, I said, “Make her tell you what happened and then call the police!” and I hung up on him. (And yes, we’re still married even after I did that to him. The man’s a saint.)
I went backstage and used all my powers of concentration to focus on the script and those light cues. I made it through the first act before the “what ifs” hit me full force and I started shaking. I called home and found out that yes, her Dad yelled at her, and yes, the police yelled at her, but she was safe and unharmed. It's almost funny now, but at the time all I wanted to do was get home and hug her -- before I yelled at her too.
About two weeks later, I got a call from one of the cast members. A man had tried to get in her 16-year-old daughter's car. Her daughter was still angry about the guy who took my daughter's money, so she punched the man, slammed the door and drove off. The police caught that guy because he was complaining to a friend on the street about the "little b!tch" who broke his nose!
I don't know if any of this is bookworthy, Ridley, but the lesson is that when your daughters start driving, be sure they have cars with automatic door locks, because they won't think to lock them when they get in the car. (Either that, or lock your daughters in their rooms until they're 40.)
Sorry, Rid, I just had the one story, unless you count the time a juvenile delinquent put a knife to my throat when I was in Jr. HS, but it's not much of a story since he didn't kill me...
Jamester, don't keep us hanging....I would like to hear (read)about it. :sits waiting patiently:
I have another one too :-)
Most if not all my stories happened while working at the PD. I had answered a 911 call one night and this man was screaming into the phone that he had been shot - I am trying to get his location and be calm at the same time but he continues to scream, eventually we got a very vague location from him (cell phone), I told him the paramedics where on the way to the area so I ask him if he can give me a description of the person that shot him - and he starts screaming again and then he starts yelling at me that he is going to die and that his life would be on my hands at this point I am about to loose it (this man was very irate) and at the time he had every right to be - but eventually another dispatcher has to take over the call because I got pretty upset and at this time I believe this man is going to die right then and there before the medics get there - okay to make a long story somewhat shorter.....the paramedics get there (this was close to my shift ending) so I had to pass it off to the next shift (about the shooting) so I head home and all night I worry if this guy made it so first thing at the beginning of my shift I inquire about him and the officer told me yeah, he just had a flesh wound in the leg! At that point I was about ready to go shoot him myself for putting me through what he did.
I posted another story - it was rather long and blogger timed out - UGH!! I will try later after I calm down!!!!
well, I guess it took - sorry about that.
Dawn, really, not much to tell. He got offended by something I said in the classroom, and at the end of class he pushed me up against a locker and I discovered a knife at my throat. He made a few threats, put the knife away, and that was the end of that.
*Notices Dawn is now nodding off in a corner*
told you there wasn't much...
I have another, although not nearly as involved. I had a strange experience once when I was riding my bicycle home from work in the 80's. I saw a man dressed like a chef chasing another man man down the highway. I rode up next to the chef and asked him what was going on. He said that the guy had just tried to rape a woman in the ladies room at his restaurant. I then rode up next to the other guy and asked him why he was running. He said because the chef was chasing him. I told him that the chef wanted to talk to him, but he refused to stop. I grabbed him by the collar and braked to a stop, pulling him back. The chef caught up and we walked the guy back to the restaurant to wait for the police. We made the guy sit down on the ground outside, and then I stood a ways away, talking to some guys who were curious about what was going on. As we were talking, the guy got up and tried to run past me. I tackled him intop the side of a car, then the guy was talking to started punching him in the face. I pushed him away and the chef helped to restore order. The police came and arrested the guy, but I never heard anything more.
MInor followup to my previous story (and in no way scary or life-threatening) - about two months later, I'm sitting in a church service, the preacher is up the front, and (in the age of the multi-media church) a clip from "Fiddler On The Roof" (whatshisname [Topol?] singing "If I Were A Rich Man") is playing when the fire alarm goes off. I immediately flash back to my last experience, but get up with everyone and start to file out of the building. I am near the back, and by the time I get to the door people at the front are turning around and coming back in. It seems somebody's little darling escaped his Sunday School class and set off a false alarm.
I may be the queen of false fire alarms (my alarm at home goes off semi-regularly - mostly while I'm cooking because I get distracted!)
Ridley after some thought regarding the burning building story I realized it doesn’t actually fit with the theme of getting a ‘feeling’ before something actually happens. Because I actually had no idea anything had happened until someone told me about it. But I’ll tell the story anyway. Again many years ago I used to work for a very small school supply store near where I lived. The owner was a former teacher and he ran the store himself with me as his only employee for several years. I was the sales clerk, secretary, receiving person, accounts receivable person, and of course the janitor too. He considered himself the outside sales person and he frequently traveled. Anyway he owned several of the buildings in a strip mall where we were located. The business right next door was a small family owned furniture store and he owned that building also. Many of the businesses in the city were very small and of course money was always an issue. In the 4 years that I worked there he never went home early except once. He just told me he was tired and he wanted to go home early so would I stay the extra hour and close up the store? It was a very strange request from him but since I was going to get an extra hour of pay I totally forgot about him. I had locked up many times alone and that day would be no different. The only difference was that my car was next door at the stereo store because I was having a stereo installed in my brand spanking new 1978 Ford Pinto! Woohoo! Now I would have an extra hour on my paycheck too!!! After I locked up I walked next door to the stereo shop and wrote a check to them and got in my car and drove away. I only lived about 4 large blocks away and before going home stopped at the market where I bumped into an old family friend in the parking lot. Obviously just a few minutes had passed but my friend was frantic and asked if I was okay. Of course I am, why wouldn’t I be? He then proceeded to ask me if it was my building that was burning? I told him no I had just left the store and everything was fine. Then he pointed to the sky behind me and I turned around and saw billowing black smoke coming from where I had just been. I drove back to the building to see if it was my store but in reality it was the furniture store right next door. Of course the area was blocked off and there were fire trucks and police everywhere so I couldn’t really get close. Now here’s where the story sort of gets murky for me. I don’t remember if it was a weekend or if I went back to work the next day or what but I sort of remember that a fireman was badly injured or killed in that fire that day. I wish I could remember but I hadn’t even thought of this story for many years. What really surprised me though is that I thought the police or fire investigators would need to question me since I was the last person there, I remember that the furniture store was already closed when I left and there was a lot of talk about arson perhaps being the cause of the fire because it had burned so hot and so quickly. Yet I was never questioned by anyone, it’s like no one even knew I was there. You can bet if Lou Boldt was in charge of the investigation I would already know what really happened that day! I wonder if that’s where my love of crime stories started? Ridley do you have any ideas how I can go about finding out what really happend that day?
Hi, Ridley, here’s mine-
Around 1990, when I lived in Hermosa Beach (CA), I discovered my boyfriend, David, was doing drugs so I kicked him out of my house. I changed the locks and told him not to come back.
He did. First he cut the power and phone lines (I didn't have a cell phone yet). Then he started banging on the door, threatening to smash a window if I didn’t let him in. Plus there were neighbors walking by, and I didn’t want them to see us arguing (I know -??!!??). Young and stupid, I let him in, figuring I could calm him down.
I couldn’t. He was raging, stomping around, and wouldn’t let me near the door. After pretending to take him back, I managed to escape, taking my dog with me, running out the door with David in pursuit. I ran to a neighbor's house and called the police. They searched the area and couldn’t find him, so they took a report and left.
In shock, I sat on the living room couch shaking. I didn't want to stay at my neighbor's house - I just wanted to be home. I couldn’t call a friend because the phone lines were cut. I just sat there, shaking, for the longest time. When I looked up, David was staring down at me. My bedroom had a hidden closet with a sliding door that looked just like the wall. He had hidden from the police in there and came out when they left. I screamed. He pushed me up against the wall, saying quietly and deliberately, “You’ve been a VERY bad girl.” I tried to scream, but he had his hand over my mouth. My dog was going nuts. I fought back, but he was too strong, twisting my arms behind me.
My neighbor, a young Marine, heard my scream and ran in. He pulled David away from me and the two fought throughout my house. David grabbed my dog and smashed the picture window with her, threatening to drop her out the 2nd story window if we approached. Eventually I was able to distract him long enough that my neighbor was able to free my dog. I bolted out the front door with my dog. Later my neighbor said that David had lunged for my hair as I ran out, missing by an inch. I ran several blocks away to a friend’s house and called the police. This time they did a serious search over several blocks. They found him hiding in someone’s garage. Later on, I heard that they held him down while a lady cop pistol-whipped him with his wire cutters, saying, “This is what you get for beating up a lady.”
This is my mom’s story. I’ll try to keep it brief.
Background: my mom (jean) was married 27 years to a great guy (of course I’m biased), had a decent middle class life, 2 great kids, nice little house (paid off). She was also self destructive, an alcoholic, addicted to painkillers, and cheated on my dad.
One day jean met this guy (dave) at the grocery store and started up an affair with him. He was a crack head, unemployed, practically homeless, in and out of jail, violent temper, all around bad guy. Jean left my dad, got an apartment, started supporting dave (with the alimony my dad had to pay). Dave got picked up on a parole violation and sent to jail for a year. While dave was gone, jean got cleaned up and started getting her life together. In October 1999, dave was up for parole and jean had promised him a place to live, so he moved in with her again. The week before thanksgiving jean called me and told me she was going to be doing thanksgiving dinner at her place for her mom, dave and herself. My sister and I were going to have dinner with my dad’s family and jean wanted my sister and I to stop by afterward for dessert. I told her absolutely not, that as long as that man was living there, nether my sister or I would set foot in the place. (My sister was 17 and I was 22 at the time). Sunday after thanksgiving, jean and dave had an argument and sometime Sunday night or Monday morning, dave killed her. Stabbed and beat her to death. Then he called his brother to tell him what he’d done and then tried to kill himself. The brother called the cops. Dave got arrested. During the course of the trial, dave managed to kill himself while in jail.
Hmmmm, must be something weird about people named Dave.
One thing that's amazing... we've all been touched by crime in our lives. I think that's the most amazing of all.
R
I was working at the Burger King Drive Thru in the HUGE town of Lillington, NC. A couple came to the speaker and ordered two double Whopper Combos with cheese "Go Large" with Cokes - at 6:00AM! Well, BK will cook that stuff for you at 6AM, but it takes a little time, like two and a half minutes for fries. These folks pull up, pay, and sit outside the window for the wait. I got a very good look at them, and I felt that something just wasn't "right" about the situation. I asked the girl who was working with me to help get the license plate numbers. About a week later, my store manager calls me to her office and asks me if I remember anything strange about that morning. I tell her the story, and she says that there are a couple of detectives at the front counter that want to talk to me! Uh oh! They had found a receipt from our store in the vehicle. I tell these guys the whole story, down to the time of day, their order, the make and model of the vehicle, and the license plate number. They ask about the appearance of the people. I tell them what I know and that the passenger's hand was bandaged. They say, "We want you to look at a lineup." I didn't have to go to the station; they brought a photo lineup to my apartment. I ID'd the right people, but the detectives couldn't tell me that at the time. I got called as a witness in that case, but I didn't have to testify; both of them copped a plea. Turned out these prople had murdered two people, one of the murderers was related to the victims, in the Fayetteville/Ft. Bragg area, stolen the vehicle, and run to Releigh, I believe. They ended up returning to the Ft. Bragg area and got arrested for their crimes. Obviously, these two were not the sharpest knives in the drawer!
I had a friend who bought a car and he could no longer afford to pay for it. Anyway instead of letting it get repo'd (excuse the abbreviation) he decides to dismantle the car sell what parts he could and hide the rest on his property and call the car stolen. Well it almost worked but he forgot he had done the same thing with a motorcycle two years earlier with the same exact insurance company. Needless to say they send some insurance investigators out to his house to take a look around. Anyway he has carparts hidden all over his property (his family owned about 15 acres mostly wooded) and the investigators look everywhere and they find nothing. Kid plays it cool and their getting ready to leave when they notice this old bulk head door buried in some weeds near the barn. Anyway they ask the kid if they can open the door and he actually helps them pull the weeds and of course under a tarp they find a bunch of parts to the motorcyle he had reported stolen.
I have one other chilling story. We have a friend who group in Seattle in the 70's. She had long brown hair. Anyway she was 16 and she was walking home from guitar practice and a guy pulls over and starts trying to talk her into the car. She said she felt something was creepy about him and she dropped her guitar and ran home. Years later she reads Ann Rules "A stranger beside me" and she writes Ann to tell her about the experience. Ann tells her that Ted Bundy was in Seattle at that time and that she fit the description of the type of girl he used to look for. Imagine if she got in that car and it was Ted Bundy...
Ridley I have one more. That even lou Boldt could not find the whole truth. In 2003 their was a devestating fire at a club in West Warwick, R.I. called the Station Night Club. The band "Great White" was playing there and they let off some indoor pyrotechnics and killed 100 people. Anyway it turns out the sound proofing foam (approved by the local fire inspector) was not fire retardent. Also the fire inspector whose in bed with the head of the democratic party in the state of Rhode Island and the Atty General. So when these two brothers purchase this night club the inspectors points out 11 fire code violations but he still agrees to increase the buildings occupancy from 317 people to 404 people. The inspector also came in Jan of 03 and the building met the code and he never bothered to check the sound proofing material. Now 100 people are dead and the pyro guy gets 6 yrs in jail. The owners were offered a plea bargain which they refused a until last week. When they decided it would be too much for all these families who lost loved ones to go through a trial. We forget though its an election year and our Tough Attorney General is now trying to deny he ever offered them the deal The deal includes jail time for only one brother and rumor has it the two brothers got to decide who would do the time. As a side note the brothers also owned a Sunoco gas station. Anyway the fire occured around 2 am and an employee of Sunoco called this gas station to make sure there were no flyers up in the store promoting this concert. The store employee swore up and down that he had received this call and the sunoco employee denied it. Anyway the sunoco employee died in his home a year later.
I was a nurse in a correctional facility for about a year and some of the crimes I heard about were unreal! The worst was a guy that had killed 5 women. Two of them he took through a McDonalds Drive thru. One of them was in a baseball hat, the other in the trunk of his car. Both were dead. When I asked him why he did it he said, "They were cheap dates and didn't complain much." Might be a good idea in there for a story. By the way I love your books Ridley and think you are the best.
I wouldn't classify this funny, but it is in the Seattle Weekly regarding a South Tacoma Bank of America Robbery. Apparantly (from what I read in the Seattle Weekly) the culprits were four young men fresh from the Iraq and they were Rangers. Armed with Assualt Rifles, they held up the BOA in South Tacoma and stole an approximate amount of $510,000.00 and were out in less than 2 minutes.
How they were caught was that (as per what the article had said in the SW) was that they wanted to be caught so they can "expose the war crimes" of torture. In fact, they made it easy to be caught. They used a personal vehicle that a witness had taken down the license plate and it was traced to Fort Lewis.
I don't know if that is something that would be of interest to you, but I read it and thought that this could not have been true.
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