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I had to get out of this room. I couldn’t stand the thought of being with Gacy for another moment. I had trouble catching my breath. I felt nauseous, probably from the overdose of adrenaline in my system. I was also very, very angry.

39

Neighbor Down the Hall

Andrew Kokoralies and John Gacy became friends because they shared a taste for killing, and also because of their proximity as neighbors on Death Row. While Gacy’s preference ran toward young boys, Kokoralies preferred dismembering women with piano wire.

One of the reasons I’d agreed to return to Menard Correctional Center for a second visit was that I’d been alerted that Ken would be meeting with Gacy that day to go over his latest appeal, which had apparently been turned down, and some paperwork needed handling.

To keep me occupied during his legal powwow, Gacy had arranged for me to spend time with his buddy. This was actually a favor he was doing for Kokoralies, since the guy almost never had any visitors, nor did he have contact with anyone on the outside.

Kokoralies stood before me with a sly grin on his face, which I misread as that of another predator about to share the spoils of the alpha male. I later deduced that he was just so lonely he was simply glad for the company, even if I did “belong” to another inmate.

One of the reasons I actually appreciated talking to this guy—other than the two-for-one aspect of bagging interviews with two serial killers—was that I could shed my artificially passive role for a while. It was starting to itch so bad, I felt like I might break out into hives.

Best of all, though, it gave me a chance to get away from Gacy, the sight of whom now made me furious.

At first, Kokoralies looked intimidating, very much the prototype of the muscular, imposing, psychopathic killer. Despite his short stature, he was extremely well built. He was wearing a tank top to show off his rippling muscles and tattoo of a heart with the name of some ex-girlfriend.

I’d been forewarned there might be a chance I could meet Kokoralies while I was at the prison, so I’d done my homework. Besides the things Gacy had told me about him in various phone conversations, I learned that “Koko” (as Gacy called him) was a different sort of creature than the Clown Killer. While Gacy was a charismatic leader, a predator who preferred to hunt alone, Koko was more like a wolf pack member. He was certainly every bit as brutal and dangerous as Gacy, but only when he had someone else to tell him what to do; he was a natural follower.

Koko had been convicted of eight murders in which the victims, all women, had been raped, beaten, tortured, then strangled and mutilated, their breasts cut off as trophies. Borrowing a page from Jeffrey Dahmer’s book, the killers even ate parts of the decomposing bodies as part of satanic rituals.

In concert with three other men, Koko trolled the streets of Chicago in much the same way Gacy had just a few years earlier. Actually, there was a link between Koko’s gang and Gacy, since the leader of the gang, Robin Gecht, was a onetime Gacy employee.

Gecht was once heard to remark that Gacy’s only mistake was to hide the bodies under his house. Gecht said it was stupid, that he preferred to hide bodies in isolated forested areas. Given the gang’s skill at dumping bodies, it could never be determined exactly how many young women Gecht, Koko, and their two partners killed during their two-year rampage. Some of the killers admitted to twelve murders, while one claimed the body count went as high as eighteen.

After they were caught, Koko was sentenced to be executed and was placed in a cell on Death Row near Gacy. It was difficult to determine whether their friendship developed because of their close proximity or, more eerily, because Andrew was actually a “second generation” killer who’d worked for one of Gacy’s disciples. Whatever the basis of their relationship was, I was relieved to realize, after only a few minutes talking with Koko, that