|Author||:||Leslie Orgel mailto:%firstname.lastname@example.org|
|Date||:||12-03-2000 on 01:07 p.m.|
|Mr Angelliís next victim, I am sure, would have been a dealer, working
from his home in an affluent outer suburb of Chicago, a man who habitually
gave driving instructions to out-of -towners that contained a deliberate
mistake. His clients, after traversing neighborhoods they never wished to
see again, arrived at his home suitably softened up. This worked best at
Once seated in the dealerís living room, clients were entertained with a display of trash and true treasures. The trash was for sale and the treasures were part of the dealerís private collection. Only by buying expensive trash could a new client hope to join the elect who might occasionally be offered a treasure. Mr Angelli had bought a two thousand year old Paracas mummy bundle, uncharacteristically dyed with fuchsine..
I donít know exactly how the dealer was steered into Fineís precinct, but it must have involved a deliberate mistake. We all know where he finished up.
Footnote.This is pure fiction. I have never visited any such dealer, at
least in Chicago.
My first attempt to post this diappeared. I must have made a mistake and clicked the wrong button
|Author||:||Jerry Silverman mailto:%email@example.com|
|Date||:||12-03-2000 on 09:21 p.m.|
|Another nice suggestion, Leslie.
I don't think it would be too much of a stretch to envision something like this happening and serving to enrage our serial killer. In fact, I have heard rumors of this very behavior taking place within the borders of the city of Chicago in the distant past. It's a variant of the bargaining stance that says "what's mine is museum-grade; what's yours is dreck." Only you have to swallow your pride and taste to buy some of his dreck in order to qualify to overpay for some of his Good Stuff.
Surely this is a person worthy of a heinous fate.