John Wayne Gacy Read Online Free PDF Page A

screamed.
    He looked at Gacy, whose face immediately began to soften. Then to Rob’s amazement, he began to apologize profusely, over and over again. What the fuck is this , Rob thought, a goddamn roller-coaster ride? One minute this fucking nut is scaring the shit out of me, and the next minute he’s Mr. Nice Guy. His heart was returning to its normal beating.
    John removed the handcuffs, and as Rob rubbed his wrists a bit to restore his blood flow, he said, “I hope you understand, Mr. Gacy.” He didn’t want to set him off again. He chose his words carefully. “I would do it if I could, but I can’t. I am just not that way.”
    “Don’t say anything. It was a dumb idea,” John said. “Dumb and stupid. I’m really sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable or scared. I ain’t no fag, Rob. You have to believe me. I am no kind of fruit picker.”
    “You had me going there.”
    “Forget about it. Let’s never talk about it again, OK? You still want the job, right?”
    “Yeah, yes, I do. I really need the money.” At this point, Rob would say anything that he thought John wanted to hear. Wild horses could not have dragged him back to that house, but he had to say something.
    “OK, then, we start from scratch. This never happened, right? And it will never happen again, OK?”
    “OK, John, but I really have to get home. Is that all right?”
    Suddenly, John was all for the idea. He began moving around as though he was getting ready to leave, mumbling, making sure he had everything, patting his pockets. Rob was somewhat relieved, but still frightened. It had been an interesting first meeting, to say the least. That was the understatement of all time.
    “Make sure you bring those papers. We can fill them out in the car,” John said offhandedly, pointing at the bar.
    Rob grabbed the papers from the bar as he watched John Gacy walk around his house, preparing to leave. He thought it ironic that after all that had occurred, the papers were an afterthought. That was ostensibly the main reason they had gone to John’s house in the first place. Unbeknownst to Rob, he was about to learn another reason that he was there—the real reason.
    Rob had his hand on the doorknob. “I thought you were going to kill me, John. I thought you were some kind of crazy person.” Rob looked back at John Wayne Gacy, who was standing behind him.
    “One second, I’ll show you one quick trick for the road. Put down your coat for a second. You’ll love this.” Gacy had a length of rope in his hand and the handle of a hammer without a hammer-head on it. He was tying knots into the rope, very meticulously. He had done this before. He was practiced. He slid the handle of the hammer between the knots. “Now, watch this,” he said.
    Gacy slid the rope over Rob’s head. It was loose, not threatening.
    “Why are you putting it over my head?” Rob asked, nervously laughing.
    “Just watch,” Gacy whispered.
    Those were Rob Piest’s last words.
    In a split second, Gacy had twisted the hammer handle twice, instantly tightening the rope around Rob’s neck. To struggle was a mistake, because that made the rope tighter. To panic was fatal. Unfortunately, Rob panicked. The hammer handle was lodgedtightly, permanently against Rob’s back. Gacy no longer had to hold on to it. The rope would not unwind; it would not loosen. Rob’s eyes bulged as he gasped for air and clawed at the rope. He was free to scramble and struggle as Gacy passively watched, thumbs in his waistband. The more he struggled, the tighter the rope got.
    Gacy whispered again, “Dumb and stupid.” He shook his head as though he was looking at the proverbial two-year-old caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Dumb and stupid.”
    Rob fell to the floor. He thrashed, he struggled, he fought valiantly, but, as stated, Gacy had done this before. He was practiced.
    The last thing Rob Piest heard out of the velvet blackness of approaching death was Gacy’s telephone