Kim Byers carried a chilling premonition the night she encountered John Wayne Gacy. He walked into Nisson Pharmacy in Des Plaines, Illinois, a seemingly ordinary contractor, but something about his gaze – a “dark omen indigo” – unsettled her deeply. She would soon learn this man held a monstrous secret.
That December evening in 1978, Byers worked alongside her classmate and friend, Robert Piest. Gacy was there to take measurements, claiming a possible remodeling job. He lingered, watching Piest, a bright 15-year-old eager to get home for his mother’s birthday. He offered Piest a lucrative summer job, a tempting proposition that ultimately led him down a terrifying path.
Piest left the pharmacy with Gacy, unaware he was walking into a nightmare. Byers watched them go, a knot of unease tightening in her stomach. It was the last time she ever saw her friend alive. The simple act of borrowing Piest’s parka, and then unknowingly slipping a film receipt into its pocket, would become a crucial piece in unraveling Gacy’s horrific crimes.
Gacy, later convicted of murdering 33 young men and boys, meticulously concealed his evil behind a facade of normalcy. He was a local businessman, a political volunteer, even a children’s entertainer known as “Pogo the Clown.” But beneath the surface lurked a predator who preyed on vulnerability and trust.
The next day, Byers was stunned to learn Piest hadn’t returned home. Authorities soon began to investigate, and Byers’ seemingly insignificant film receipt surfaced as a critical clue. Gacy had denied ever meeting Piest, but the receipt proved he was lying, shattering his carefully constructed deception.
A search of Gacy’s property revealed a horrifying scene: a crawl space beneath his home filled with the remains of his victims. The discovery sent shockwaves through the community and exposed the true extent of Gacy’s depravity. Piest’s blue parka was also found, a grim reminder of the night his life was stolen.
Courtney Lund O’Neil, Byers’ daughter, believes her mother’s observations were instrumental in Gacy’s capture. Despite being dismissed by some as a young woman, Byers’ detailed recollection of that fateful night provided vital evidence. She bravely cooperated with investigators, driven by a desperate hope to find her friend.
O’Neil challenges the mythologizing of Gacy, arguing he wasn’t a brilliant mastermind, but rather a manipulative and unremarkable man who exploited societal blind spots. “He was quite boring,” she insists, pointing to the surprisingly mundane details of his life. His ability to blend in, to appear harmless, was his most dangerous weapon.
Piest’s body was eventually recovered from the Des Plaines River, identified through dental records. He was Gacy’s final and youngest victim, a tragic loss that forever scarred his family and community. The image of a young man, full of dreams and excitement for his mother’s birthday, being robbed of his future remains a haunting reminder of Gacy’s evil.
Even during the trial, Byers attempted to meet Gacy’s gaze, seeking acknowledgment of his guilt. He refused to look at her, continuing to deny his involvement. But Byers knew the truth, a truth that helped bring a monster to justice and offered a small measure of closure to the families he devastated.
The case left an indelible mark on Byers, instilling a lifelong sense of caution and awareness. She always warned her daughter to be wary of strangers, a legacy of the night she unknowingly crossed paths with a killer. It’s a chilling reminder that evil can hide in plain sight, and that even the most ordinary encounters can have devastating consequences.
