Greg Hauser drove to Cincinnati. He figured his cover in Saint Louis was blown all to hell, so he might as well use a different place to express his desire to kill all of mankind if not all of the life forms on the entire planet over his wife’s death. He wasn’t going to let it go by without extracting revenge of one sort or the other. Greg figured that using his guns was expected now that they knew he had them. In fact, he left them at his house just in case the FBI came back with a warrant. That night, he wormed his way into a farm implement and grain store, after hours so to speak, and used his flashlight to find arsenic poison. It was for killing rats in barns. His relatives had used it just for that purpose, but it had been used for years by other families to end family quarrels, revenge killings, and various other arguments of note. Next, he entered a large hotel and made his way to the banqueting restaurant’s kitchen. He broke the door lock and walked in. It was night, so no one was even around. He found the menu for the next day’s business. A convention of advertising executives from New York were in town, it said. They were probably sleeping upstairs and in other hotel venues in the city. The bill of fare showed him that twelve hundred people would be fed meals at noon. The menu included baked chicken, mashed potatoes, and green beans. Dessert included apple, cherry, and peach pie.
Snooping around, Greg found the prep room. There, he discovered the chickens were thawing in a number of massive industrial refrigerators. Reaching in, he sprinkled the poison on top of each of the twelve hundred chickens being careful to use rubber gloves when touching the poison. He also covered his face with a filter mask as he sprinkled the deadly powder. In two hours and thirty-five minutes, he was finished. The poison disappeared into the miles of skin atop his newly seasoned poultry. When he was turned to make his exit, he took off the set of rubber gloves, dropped them into a bag, donned another, and made his way back to his car.