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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 frontof 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