Previous Episode: An Introduction to Many Cones
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 As Many Cones opens, we meet Jim Donas and his wife, Sue.   They're getting ready to go out to dinner when there was a knock at the door.   Jim finds a young man at the door who introduces himself as Richard Sparne.

 Mr. Sparne asks to come in.   Eventually he forces his way in and stabs Jim Donas. This all happens while his wife is getting ready in the bathroom.   Subsequently a group of young men enter after being signaled by Richard Sparne.   They ransack the home and then brutally murder the Donas couple. 

Many Cones is a podcast novel based on true crime. The murders inspiring this crime fiction took place 30 miles from Chicago in Northwest Indiana, and captivated the area from the initial brutal crime scene all the way through and beyond discovery of a shockingly bizarre motive.

There was a knock at the apartment door. Jim Donas was in the kitchen drying his hands. He had been a whirlwind of activity, dusting and cleaning everything that crossed his path. Busy work always occupied his time when he was waiting for his wife. She was still in the bathtub. It was almost time to yell through the door again. Jim was starting to believe she intentionally dragged her feet when they had somewhere to go. It would be another hour before she was ready. He went to the apartment door and looked through the peephole.  Some kid. 

Jim opened the door. For a fleeting second he thought about the buzzer-intercom system that had never worked. People adapted by leaving the complex door unlocked. He hadn’t heard anyone descending the stairs. Odd. He could usually hear people coming and going. Had even complained about paper thin walls. 

The complex held nine individual apartments. All very upscale. Located in a nice area. No problems, anytime. Except for the periodic drunken argument, usually from one of the other eight complexes. No one thought twice about opening the apartment door for some unknown person. 

Jim said, “Can I help you?” He was looking at a tall, rangy kid. Looked to be late teens, early twenties. Presentable, clean cut kid. Appeared to be a little nervous. 

“Mr. Donas?” the kid asked. Jim said, “Yes, can I help you?” 

The Kid said, “Mr. Donas, my name is Richard Sparne.” He paused, as if expecting a problem. Then went on. “I’m collecting for the local Amateur Athletics Union. Could I please come in and explain our program to you?” 

Jim shook his head no and said, “I’m running out for a dinner engagement, I can’t right now; do you have any literature or anything you can leave?”

The Kid started to walk in, saying, “Yes, I can leave you some pamphlets.” 

Jim, standing in front of the Kid’s passage, said, “Please, just hand them to me; I’m about to leave. I don’t have time for you to come in now.” 

The Kid reached around behind his back and grabbed a nine-inch jagged knife from his belt. In one swift motion he plunged the knife into Jim Donas’ abdomen. Deep.