Casefile True Crime - Case 257: Joe Gliniewicz

Episode Date: August 26, 2023

After a routine check on suspicious activity turns to tragedy for Illinois Police Lieutenant Joe Gliniewicz, Fox Lake locals struggle to come to grips with the loss of their hero cop. A statewide manhunt ensues, but when the perpetrators aren’t immediately apprehended, the question is raised - could this have been a targeted attack? --- Narration – Anonymous Host Research & writing – Elsha McGill Creative direction – Milly Raso Production and music – Mike Migas Music – Andrew D.B. Joslyn Sign up for Casefile Premium: Apple Premium Spotify Premium Patreon For all credits and sources, please visit casefilepodcast.com/case-257-joe-gliniewicz

Step inside the shadowy world of the 1990s music industry with the Dragonfly, Brett Cantor murder mystery. In the latest original series from Case File Presents, we go behind the Velvet Roaps to explore the dark side of Hollywood's 90s club scene. In this world, secrets traded hands like currency. One of its most compelling and enduring mysteries is, who killed Brett Cantor. At just 25 years old, Music Label executive Brett Cantor had already built an impressive career at Chrysler's Music Group. He was instrumental in helping discover bands like Rage Against

the Machine. By mid to 1993, Brett was at the top of his game, dating actress Rose McGowan and signing on as a partner in a popular Hollywood nightclub called Dragonfly. But then, on July 30th of that year, Brett was killed in his West Hollywood apartment. The murder sent shockwaves throughout the entertainment industry. Today, nearly 30 years later, the case remains unsolved. True Crime writer and podcast producer Jason Nova has spent three years investigating Brett Cantor's life and tragic death. In Dragonfly, Brett Cantor murder mystery, she reveals what her team has discovered and

shares the haunting aftermath that documented by Brett's family and friends. This is one rock and roll true crime story you will never forget. Dragonfly, Brett Cantor murder mystery is out now wherever you get your podcasts. Stay tuned until the end of today's episode to hear the trailer. Our episodes deal with serious and often-distressing incidents. If you feel at any time you need support, please contact your local crisis center. For suggested phone numbers for confidential support and for a more detailed list of content warnings, please see the show notes for this episode on your app or on our website. The morning of Tuesday, September 1, 2015, started out like any other for Lieutenant Charles

Joseph Glinnerwitz. The 52-year-old, who went went by Joe climbed into his squad car and began making his way towards the Fox Lake Community Centre in Northern Illinois. Joe had important business to attend to. He ran a program called the Fox Lake Explorers, which was a collaboration between the Boy Scouts of America and the Fox Lake Police Department. A guide towards 14 to 21-year-olds, the explorers gave youths who had an interest in law enforcement hands on experience with the different aspects of policing. The young men and women who trained under Joe's guidance were educated on everything from traffic stops to safe firearm use to crime scene investigation. And who better to teach them than Joe Glinnerwitz? A 30-year veteran of the force,

Joe had dedicated his entire life to law enforcement. After leaving high school, he spent four years in the United States Army before rising through the ranks within the Fox Lake Police Department. He took on every role available, from K-9 Officer, to member of the SWAT team. He continued to serve in the Army reserves, amassing a long list of military and department medals. But for all his achievements, Joe's biggest source of pride was his work with the explorers.

Within a year of taking over the post in 1987, Joe had turned the program into something special. His trainees revered him. If you were in Joe's squad, you were considered a badass. Joe had recently been tasked with completing an inventory of all the explorers assets. He headed to the post to get an early start, making a quick stop at a gas station at around 7.05 am. Despite being fit and strong, Joe was also a heavy smoker, and he always kept two packs of cigarettes tucked

in his car's sun visor. He stocked up his supply and resumed his journey. But as Joe made his way to the post, he took a detour past Honing Road, a rural stretch approximately one and a half miles from the community center. At 7.52am, he picked up his police radio and contacted Dispatch to report some suspicious activity. Joe told the operator, I'm going to be out at the old concrete plant checking on two males, whites, one male black.

Although Joe wasn't technically yet on duty, there had been recent reports of vandalism in the area, and he had agreed to keep an eye on things. Besides, he was the kind of officer who considered himself on duty anytime he was in town. The dispatcher asked Joe if he needed backup. Joe responded. Negative at this time. Three minutes later, at 7.55am, Joe radioed in again.

He told the dispatcher the man had taken off towards the swamp and he was pursuing them on foot. He gave his location as the gravel road that ran between the cement plant and honing road. Although he sounded cool and calm, the dispatcher once again asked if he wanted backup. This time Joe responded. Go ahead and send somebody. 3 police cars were quickly dispatched to the area, arriving on Hoening Road at 8.01am. Lieutenant Joe Glinnerwitz's squad car was parked near the old cement factory, but Joe himself was nowhere to be seen. The backup officers headed into the surrounding woods and battled their way through the marshy

bog and thick scrub. The scrub was dense with green vegetation, making it near impossible to see through. The dispatcher radioed a joe asking for his current status. There was no response. They radioed for a second time. Still nothing. The dispatcher asked the other officers, Fox Lake units on honing,

check status on 6740. One officer responded, we don't have him right now, we're looking for him. Suddenly, a loud bang rang through the air. There was no mistaking the sound. It was a gunshot. The officers charged further into the woods towards the swamp, trying to follow the direction of the noise. The dispatcher continually tried to radio Joe, but to no avail. Calls were placed to Joe's cell phone, but those two weren't unanswered.

The minutes ticked by as the officers battled onwards. Then, at 809, one officer pushed to their way through the scrub and came to the bank of the swamp. A little further into the woods, lying face down, was the body of Joe Glenowicz. The officer rolled him over. Blood was coming from his nose and seeping out from above his collar. The officer radioed the dispatcher announcing, to the dispatcher announcing, Officer Down. It was a devastating sight for the first responding officers. One in particular became overwhelmed with emotion,

touching Joe's hand and wailing. Why Joe? Why Joe? No, no, no. Another said, he's gone. Get your gun out and call out anything you see. Joe Glenowicz had been shot twice. The first bullet struck him in the right hip where he kept his mobile phone. Joe was wearing a ballistic vest which prevented the bullet from entering his body, but his luck stopped there.

The second bullet had been shot downwards into Joe's vest, striking him in the chest and penetrating his pulmonary artery. Such an injury meant he would have bled to death within minutes. Evidence at the scene indicated a struggle had taken place. Scattered around the ground were several of Joe's belongings, including his pepper spray, with its safety tab removed. A little further away, lay Joe's baton and glasses. Two shell casings were also recovered a short distance apart.

This meant the gunshots had been fired from two different locations within the crime scene. The shell casings matched the 40 caliber service pistol carried by Joe Glynowitz. However, his holster was empty, and the pistol itself was nowhere to be seen. This raised the harrowing probability that the man Joe had been pursuing were now on the run with his stolen gun. A police bulletin immediately went out, warning that the trio were armed and dangerous. Four hundred heavily armed officers from across Illinois sped towards Fox Lake, a small village of less than 11,000 residents.

They sealed off the two square mile radius surrounding the crime scene, focusing the hunt for the shooters within. It wasn't an easy place to search. The designated Killzone consisted of heavily wooded areas, waterways, homes and businesses. It was also a hot day and the swampy landscape had generated harsh humidity. Officers wearing heavy tactical gear and carrying rifles began passing out from the heat. But investigators were taking no chances. Joe Glynawitz was the first officer to be fatally shot in the line of duty in Lake County

since 1980, and the first ever to be killed in Fox Lake. Furthermore, the Labor Day long weekend was just four days away, a holiday that attracted thousands of tourists to the area. The Labor Day long weekend was just four days away, a holiday that attracted thousands of tourists to the area. Apprehending those responsible was of the highest priority. A SWAT team and 45 K9 units were brought in, while five helicopters and a fixed-wing aeroplane searched overhead. Some businesses were closed while schools were put on lockdown.

The local trains were stopped and residents were urged to stay indoors. One sniffer dog successfully picked up a sands. It was followed until the sands was lost with no discoveries. Word of what happened spread quickly in the close-knit community. Lieutenant Joe Glinnerwitz was somewhat of a local celebrity, known for his trademark outfit consisting of fatigues, combat boots and military hat. Combined with his tattooed muscley arms and tough persona, he learned the nickname of GI Joe. Residents were shocked to learn that GI Joe of all people had been gunned down.

But none were as shocked as Melody Cleanowitz, Joe's wife of 26 years. When she was delivered to the news by Mayor Donnie Schmidt, Melody collapsed and became physically ill. Meshmit told CNN, The way all that went out of her mouth then, will stay with me forever. The man hunt for Joe's killers intensified. All investigators had to go by was the vague description Joe had given the dispatcher, two white men, and one black. This made it near impossible to narrow down the suspect pool.

One call came through from a concerned citizen who reported that they'd seen the three suspects loitering near the treatment plant. Another became suspicious when they saw an unknown man running into a vehicle. Other calls came through, with locals eager to help in any way they could, but nothing emerged that identified the shooters. With no arrests made by Nightfall, helicopters fitted with thermal cameras flew overhead. Police obtained dashcam footage from a truck driver who was in the area around the time of the shooting, as well as recordings from traffic cameras and security footage from

a local homeowner. The footage was examined, but no immediate leads emerged. The search resumed at first light on Wednesday morning. Schools in the district remained closed as a safety precaution, but with the thermal scan as failing to detect anything, it was deemed unlikely that the killers were still in the area. The search expanded beyond the two-mile kill zone, with investigators turning their focus to tip-offs, while they waited for forensic analysis of the crime scene.

The commander of Lake County's Major Crimes Task Force, George Falanco, fronted a press conference appealing for help from the public to catch the shooters, whom he described as extremely dangerous. He urged residents to remain vigilant, saying, All that takes is one tip or one good lead to break a case wide open. Falenco made it clear that the manhunt would continue until Joe's killers were apprehended, stating, I have a murdered colleague, a police officer, and we're not going to stop.

What investigators didn't reveal was that a significant piece of evidence had already been recovered. Within an hour of scouring the crime scene, a forensic examiner was scanning the ground about 2.5 feet from where Joe Glenowicz's body was found. There, lying in the tall grass between two trees, was Joe's gun. Analysis revealed the presence of DNA from someone other than Joe, giving investigators their first substantial clue. The Fox Lake community wasted no time in showing their support for the fall and officer. Many view to Joe Glinnerwitz's death as a sign of the increasing dangers faced by police.

Some were quick to blame the Black Lives Matter movement for encouraging citizens to fight out against excessive law enforcement. Mostly, residents simply couldn't comprehend that this had happened to an officer that many viewed as one of the best Fox Lake had ever seen. Members of the Explorer program were particularly troubled. Over the years, hundreds of youths who were trained by Joe went on to have successful careers in law enforcement or the military. Many of them viewed him as a mentor and father figure. One team told CNN that Joe's death felt like losing a family member.

As the search for Joe's killers escalated into a full-scale FBI investigation, a vigil was organized by village locals on the evening after the shooting. 1,200 people attended, with officers riding on horseback past mourners wielding handheld signs showing words of support, such as, police lives matter, and we stand with blue. Joe Glenowitz was remembered as an American hero. His wife Melody stood before the crowd, comforted by the couple's four adult sons, as she said through tears. four adult sons, as she said through tears. Joe was my best friend, my world, my hero. The love of my life for the last 26 and a half years.

He was the most wonderful caring and loving father to our boys. My world got a little bit smaller with his passing, and he will truly be missed by all of us. The former police chief Michael Bannon, who had spent 30 years working alongside the Joe, delivered a poem he wrote in his comrades' honor. A fallen hero, my friend in blue, strong and brave, his heart ever true, it read. A soldier and a policeman, he knew what it could cost. Tonight, a piece of America we have lost.

Later that evening at around 9.30pm, 30-year-old Nanny Kristen Keifer called police to report a bizarre incident. Kristen said she was driving down Route 12 in Volvo, a small village just five miles south of Fox Lake when she started experiencing car trouble. Kristen pulled over on the side of the road and stepped outside with a flashlight to see what was going on. Suddenly, two men wearing hoodies appeared out of nowhere. One was white and one was black. They asked Kristen if she was heading to Wisconsin

130 miles away and if they could get a ride. They then tried to steal her car. Kristen managed to jump back inside her vehicle and lock the doors. As she dialed 911, the two men fled into the cornfields at the back of a nearby garden center. For investigators on the Glenowitz case, this was a major breakthrough. Nearly 100 members of law enforcement quickly descended on the area, setting up a roadblock around the search perimeter. Thermally equipped helicopters scanned overhead as 11 K9 units aided the ground search. One dog soon picked up a scent.

It led offices through to the Volobog State natural area, a dense nature reserve containing woodland and open swamp land. But it didn't lead to the man. Instead, it turned out the canine had mistakenly tracked a deer. The helicopters also failed to detect any movement or heat sources. By 2.30am, no trace of the two men was found. Given how quickly investigators had acted, it seemed incredible that the men could have evaded detection, particularly given they were on foot.

Kristen Kepa was pressed for more information. She eventually admitted she made the entire story up in a bid to get attention from the family she worked for. Kristen was charged with disorderly conduct. She pleaded guilty, resulting in two years' probation, 250 hours of community service, and a restitution fine of $20,000 for the expenses incurred during the search. The Labor Day public holiday became a day of mourning, as thousands gathered in Fox Lake for Joe's funeral.

A public viewing of his casket was held at a local high school before a five mile procession made up of over 1,000 police vehicles made its way through the streets lined with mourners. The governor ordered that all United States flags at government buildings be flown at half-mask until that evening. Speaking at his service, a friend and fellow officer said, When we were growing up, we all knew Joe was a hero, but now the nation knows he's a hero. Meanwhile, the locally based Motorola Solutions

company offered a $50,000 reward for information that led to an arrest. FBI agents reviewed the various CCTV footage taken from the area on the day Joe Glinnerwitz was killed and identified three men matching the description of the ones the lieutenant was pursuing. A sequential video was pieced together and a search kicked off immediately to track the trio down. A-T-L was later, police found the man in question. The trio claimed they had nothing to do with the shooting and were reading breakfast at

a nearby diner at the time. Investigators obtained footage, receipts, and witness statements to confirm this. With their alibi checking out and no other leads emerging, questions were raised about whether this could have been a targeted attack. Joe Glinnerwitz hadn't given the dispatcher any clear reason why he'd decided to pursue the three men out near Honing Road, or what exactly they'd done that he deemed suspicious. This raised the question, what if someone had a personal vent data against Jo and had lowered him out there? Analysis of the GPS unit in Jo's squadcar recorded him as arriving at the old cement factory at 7.25am.

The first call he'd placed over his police radio was at 7.52am. This meant he spanned almost 30 minutes in the area before contacting Dispatch, So what happened during that time? With all possibilities needing to be considered, investigators turned to Joe Kalinowitz's personnel file. The 264-page folder dated back to 1985. It was packed with accolades from business owners, civilians and members of numerous police departments commending Joe for his outstanding work during various incidents. Whether assisting in a serious criminal case or helping individuals out of a jam, he was praised for being professional, friendly and courteous. For the sensitive way Joe dealt with a victim's family, one police chief said,

compassion and understanding are not something that can be taught in a classroom, or learned in a textbook. One couple described the lengths Joe went to to help them when their car broke down, writing, ''Petrolman Glenowitz is a perfect example of a gentleman.'' But, as investigate has come through every page, it became clear that all was not as it seemed. Case file will be back shortly. Thank you for supporting us by listening to this episode's sponsors. The average break-in lasts 8-10 minutes, so fast response is crucial. That's why simply Safe Home Security launched its breakthrough technology 24-7 live

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That's simplysafe.com slash case file. There's no safe like simply safe. This episode of Case File is sponsored by BetterHelp. Sometimes in life we're faced with tough choices. Careers, relationships, or anything else. Nothing in life were faced with tough choices, careers, relationships, or anything else. Nothing in life stays constant. Things change, and the way forward isn't always clear and easy. Therapy helps you stay connected to what you really want while you navigate life, so

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Back in May of 1998, Alec County Sheriff's deputy was driving down Route 49 when they found a pickup truck idling on the side of the highway. Joe Glenowitz was behind the wheel, passed out drunk with his foot, pressed down on the accelerator. Oil was leaking from the engine. The deputy tried to wake Joe, but he wouldn't budge. It wasn't the first time something like this had happened. The deputy called a Fox Lake Police Detective who came to collect a Joe and organized to

have his truck towed. The next morning, Joe couldn't remember a thing. Unable to recall where he left his truck, he reported at Stalin, only to learn the truth about what had happened. When questioned by his superiors, Joe claimed that he'd worked a long day before playing volleyball after his shift. He'd drunk six beers and several shots, causing him to black out. Several months later, Joe failed to report to work after a night out drinking, a decision that cost him

a two-day unpaid suspension. Joe admitted he had a drinking problem, but assured the police chief that he was handling it. The next few years were relatively uneventful, say for a few warnings about being late or failing to report for duty. Then in 2000, an officer named Denise was appointed to help Joe run the explorers post. Denise had joined the force in the 90s, making her the only woman in the all male Fox Lake PD. Denise loved her job, but before long, Joe began making her feel uncomfortable. He

demanded that she wear a tighter uniform and ordered that she accompany him to the bathroom while he urinated. On Valentine's Day of 2000, Joe told Denise to meet him at a hotel. There, he gave her a box of chocolates and began rubbing her shoulders. Joe allegedly told Denise there was a lieutenant on the squad who didn't like female officers. He offered to protect Denise and help her rise through the ranks on the condition that she provide him with sexual favors. Denise was a single mother who feared she'd lose her job if she didn't comply. Over the next eight months, she performed oral sex on Joe on five separate occasions, allegedly making it clear she didn't enjoy it.

Denise eventually resigned from the explorers, no longer able to work under Joe Glinnerwitz, but she kept the details about his conduct to herself. In 2001, she attended a workshop about sexual harassment, after which she felt she could no longer remain silent. Denise told one of her superiors about Joe's behavior, and he was subsequently questioned about it. Joe admitted that the two had an inappropriate sexual relationship, but denied Deneese's claim of coercion.

He was suspended for 30 days, with the recommendation that he received counseling for sex addiction. But according to Denise, from that point on, she was put under constant scrutiny from her colleagues. She eventually quit her job and moved into state. Denise later told The New York Daily News, it was a good old boys' club if I didn't play along, then I was not going to stay. In 2005, Denise filed a lawsuit against the Fox Lake PD. It was ultimately thrown out when she failed to meet court requirements. Regardless, it cost the village tens of thousands of dollars in legal fees. Meanwhile, Joe

Glenowicz continued to rise through the ranks and was eventually promoted from Sargent to Lutannand. Denise wasn't the only one imbedded by this. In 2009, the then mayor of Fox Lake, Cindy Irwin, received a two-page anonymous letter that started. Weed the members of the Fox Lake Police Department wish to inform you of certain situations which have occurred and require attention. The letter complained that morale within the department was at an all-time low,

due in part to the ongoing, reprehensible misconduct by Lieutenant Joe Glinnerwitz. In addition to Denise's claims, a police dispatcher complained that Joe had sexually harassed and threatened her. Other personnel had seen Joe out and about with different women who weren't his wife. Various complaints had been made

by women who claimed Joe had inappropriately grouped their breasts during work Christmas parties. According to the letter, Joe's drinking was still an ongoing problem. Security guards at various establishments around the village had complained that Joe was becoming a nuisance and overstaying his welcome. There had been several instances where bouncers had to escort him out for being too intoxicated. He'd also allegedly failed to pay a bar tab of more than $300. Then there was the abuse of power. Joe had reportedly used a gift certificate that was donated to the police department to get a tattoo while on duty.

He'd also used his squad card to take his family on interstate holidays. As for the explorers, the letter complained that Joe was seriously bridging protocols. He'd given trainees unsupervised access to the police department, allowed them to operate department vehicles and permitted them to wear official garments that misrepresented them as actual police officers. According to the letter, complaints regarding these issues and many others had been made to the then chief of police, Michael Bayon, but nothing had been done. It was well known that Bayon and to Joe Glenowitz were close friends.

The anonymous group concluded, chief Bayon's head in the sand attitude to dealing with lieutenant Glenowitz can no longer go on. It is our sincere hope that you will address this matter. We can no longer stand by and watch Lieutenant Glinnerwitz violate the rules and regulations, policies and procedures, and remain silent. If action wasn't taken, the group warned they'd have no choice but to contact the media, or escalate the issue to the relevant investigative agency.

The discovery of this information left investigators scratching their heads. These records provided a stark contrast to the glowing reputation Joe Glinnerwitz had so far been memorialised for. It was also unexpected that an employee with such a blemished record would hold a lieutenant position. Mayor Donnie Schmidt, who considered Joe a close friend, was adamant that he was unaware of Joe's personal file. He said he'd never heard a single complaint against Joe in the two and a half years he'd served as mayor. But when investigators questioned other officers on Joe's squad, it quickly became apparent

that there were mixed feelings towards Joe Glenowicz. One of the female officers who had found Joe's body was aware of his history of sexual harassment. She claimed Joe once told her that he wasn't allowed to be alone with any of the police women. According to this officer, Joe was considered a golden child within the department. She believed he must have had some dirt on one of his colleagues to be allowed to stay on.

With the Joe's unsavory history coming to light, it put extra weight on the possibility that he could have been killed by someone seeking vengeance. Investigators working the homicide case also had to consider whether Joe's death could have resulted from some other unknown secret. But there was another theory entirely. From the outset of the investigation, some questions had been raised about the crime scene. Despite the scattering of Joe's weapons, there were no other signs that a struggle had taken place.

Joe's clothing was in pristine order, other than a bit of mud on his pants. The heavily vegetated swampy area was also relatively undisturbed. Forensic examination had revealed that the fatal gunshot had been administered two inches under the top of Joe's bulletproof vest. Joe Glynawitz was a tough officer with decades of training in all matters of law enforcement. So how did a perpetrator get close enough to shoot him with his own gun without causing any other injuries, or at the very least, leaving Joe disheveled? There was also the question of why the shooter would leave Joe's gun at the scene. Why hadn't they taken it with them or disposed of it in the nearby swamp.

The officer who had discovered Joe's body noted that Joe's hand had been tanced in a position that indicated he might have been holding a gun. These details, along with the mystery as to why Joe had been in the area for close to 30 minutes before calling the dispatcher, led to an uncomfortable question. Was it possible that the lieutenant had killed himself? Those close to Joe instantly shut this theory down. Joe was a larger than life character who had never shown any signs of depression or expressed the desire to self-harm.

Even the responding officer who had her own concerns about Joe's behavior denied the possibility. She told investigators that Joe was too vain to attempt suicide. What if he missed and ended up paralyzed for life? She didn't think Joe would risk it. Another officer who attended the scene wrote in their statement, there were no obvious signs or evidence to draw any conclusions, including suicide.

Forensic pathologists said there was nothing unusual about the tense positioning of Joe's hands. Hands can naturally curl up post-mortem, and there was nothing about the way Joe's hands were found that indicated suicide. The pathologist who performed a Joe's autopsy said it was highly unlikely that someone who was going to kill themselves would shoot themselves twice. Even though the bullet to the hip didn't penetrate his skin, it still would have been incredibly

painful. Some likened it to the same force as being hit with a sledgehammer. Also for skeptics of the suicide theory, if Joe had killed himself, how did his gun end up several feet away from his body? Furthermore, Joe had stocked up on his usual supply of cigarettes that morning. Why would he do that if he knew he wasn't going to be around to smoke them? On the Friday after Joe's death, the coroner's office received a call from a blocked number. The anonymous male caller claimed to be a retired Chicago police officer.

Convinced that Joe Glynowitz had shot himself, the caller threatened to violently harm the coroner and one of the task force investigators, unless Joe's death was declared a suicide. The call was traced back to 54-year-old Joseph Betaglia, a divorced father of three who retired from the force in 2012. Further investigation revealed he'd also called various media outlets in a bid to spread the suicide story. Bataglia was ultimately charged with disorderly conduct. He pleaded guilty and was sentenced to one year of supervision, marking the second conviction in the joke in a witch investigation that had nothing to do with the crime itself.

Regardless, the coroner made a public statement on television, declaring, I can't rule out a suicide, I can't rule out an accident, I can't rule in a homicide, I can't issue a manner of death until law enforcement gives me everything they have. The Glynowitz family was outraged at the implication. According to them, Joe had never had a single suicidal thought in his life. Joe had been set to retire in the months leading up to his death, but had recently applied for various police-treat positions. The fact that he was planning for the future proved to them that he wasn't

planning to take his own life. Joe's wife Melody told Cromwatch Daily, There were things that were happening in our life that people who were going to commit suicide would never do. We lived for these things. She said she wholeheartedly believed that her husband was murdered. The Glenowitz family called the suicide allegations disrespectful, hurtful, and irresponsible. They, along with the investigators, slammed the

coroner for his statement, with the release of sensitive information putting the entire case at risk. Joe's son, DJ, told the Arlington Heights Daily Herald. I know my father, my family knows my father, and his closest friends know him well. He's not someone who ever contemplated suicide. He never had suicidal tendencies or anything like that. That's just a rumor and that's that. But there was something else raising questions. When Joe Glynawitz's body was found, an examination of his mobile phone revealed that all of his text messages had been deleted.

Investigators were growing more confused about what to make of it all. With the days passing with no breakthroughs in the case, they sent Joe's phone to the FBI. In late October, a 6,500-page report came back. All of Joe's text messages had been successfully retrieved. Case file will be back shortly. Thank you for supporting us by listening to this episode's sponsors. Thank you for listening to this episode's ads. As supporting our sponsors, you support CaseFile to continue to deliver quality content. In March of 2014, a new village administrator named Anne Marin was appointed to Fox Lake. Anne had years of experience in the government sector, including public finance, and a large

part of her job was to focus on the village budget. This also prompted a change in the village's leadership. Text records revealed that this presented an ongoing problem for Joe Glenowicz. He viewed N Marin as a power monger who was trying to control everything in the village. He soon started making inquiries about whether it was possible to separate his explorers post from the Fox Lake Police Department and to another sponsor. In March 2015, Joe texted a higher up contact saying, between you and I, I'm having a great deal of problems with our new Village Administrator.

I've had a talk with the chief and he agrees with me. We are all looking at our PD retirement options and I need to move the post out of that spin of control at least till this person's contract is up. Joe's contact advised that the explorers at least till this person's contract is up. Joe's contact advised that the explorers didn't need to be charded by the village, and suggested he contact another organization that might be interested in sponsoring the program. Texts indicated that Joe put wheels in motion to make this change, but it was shut down

by officials. In mid-April, he texted his wife Melody to complain about Anne Marin. Joe wrote, As long as we are sponsored by the PD, and after she makes the village structure change, she will have the means and ability to do as she wishes. Melody responded, maybe we need to hide the funds somehow. A month later, Joe once again texted Melody to air his grievances about Marin, writing, she hates me and I've never said more than three sentences to her in the year she's been here.

She hates the Explorer program and is crawling up my ass. If she gets a hold of the checking account, I'm pretty well fucked. Melody responded. Hopefully she decides to get a couple of drinks in her and she gets a DUI. Joe texted back. Trust me, I've thought through many scenarios, from planting things, to vollo bog.

For investigators, these text messages raised some serious concerns. When they'd first searched Joe Glynowitz's desk following his death, they found a small package of cocaine in an unmarked evidence bag. It couldn't be linked to any active case. With the Jo's talk of planting things, investigators wondered if he intended to use this against Anne Marin. But this wasn't quite as concerning as Joe's mentioned of the Volo bog.

The natural area, just four miles south of Fox Lake, contained an extensive system of waterways known as the Cheno Lakes. Joe's reference raised the question of whether he was referring to the bog as a potential dumping ground for a body. This wasn't a far-fetched possibility. Investigators extracted a private Facebook conversation between Joe and another woman, in which Joe said he was being forced to retire by the village administrator. He wrote, work has been a living hell the last two months, close to entertaining a meeting with a mutual acquaintance of ours with the word white in their nickname. Investigators believed they knew exactly who Joe was referring to, a higher ranking member of an outlaw motorcycle gang. They questioned the woman Jo was messaging. She confirmed that Jo discussed the possibility of hiring someone to conduct a hit. A meeting was arranged between law enforcement and the

gang member thought to be the person referred to as White. White admitted he was familiar with Lieutenant Jo Glinnerwicz, but firmly denied that Joe had ever approached him about a contract killing. When Ian Marin was told about the recovered text messages, she was astonished. Her conversations with Joe had always been pleasant, and she had no reason to think there was any bad blood between them. Investigators could find no further evidence to suggest that Joe had seriously considered hiring a hitman to remove Marin from the equation.

It was possible his comments were just a distasteful attempt at dark humor. Regardless, Joe's intense dislike for the new village administrator raised the obvious question. What was he trying to hide? As a police lieutenant, Joe Glinnerwitz received an annual salary of $96,000. However, photos posted to his social media accounts suggested he lived a more lavish lifestyle than his salary would support, with vacations to Hawaii and frequent dinners at upscale restaurants. Text messages recovered from Joe's phone indicated exactly where this money was coming from. On June 22, 2015, Joe messaged his wife Melody to say,

used the Explorer account for flight $624.70. It can wait for a while. Their account is sitting at $3,000ish now. A few days later, a frantic Joe texted his son DJ about unidentified expenses totalling over $2,000. You are borrowing from that other account, Joe wrote, when you get back you'll have to start dumping money into that account or you will be visiting me in jail. The next day he texted DJ again, saying, I'm sticking my neck out there. He mentioned thousands of dollars he delent DJ to fix his truck and pay for a summer vacation. According to Joe, this meant there wasn't enough money left in the explorer's account

to pay for upcoming expenses. He needed DJ to pay the money back so that if anyone asked, he could explain that explorer participants were given loans from time to time. Joe wrote, this villager administrator hates me and the Explorer program. This situation right here would give her the means to crucify me if it were discovered. Shortly before Joe's death, Fox Lake Police Chief Michael Bayon retired from the force pending an investigation into the department's handling of an unrelated incident. The change in leadership prompted a review of the department's procedures and equipment. On August 31, 2015, the day before Joe's death, Ann Marin paid a visit to the Explorer Post.

After a year and a half in the Village Administrator role, she still didn't know how much money the Explorer program brought in. For insurance purposes, she also needed an inventory of all the Explorer's assets. The clubhouse in the basement of the community centre was packed full of cardboard boxes. Looking through them, Marin was shocked to discover that they held a visual military gear, including gas masks, bulletproof vests, combat boots, gun belts, and manuals on SWAT tactics and sniper training. This was the kind of equipment reserved for experienced police departments, not teenagers.

In fact, some of the most bonafired police departments couldn't even get their hands on this type of gear. Marin approached a Joe Glenowitz and requested that he provide her with a full inventory by 2pm that day. She told him, I want your invoices, your procurement, where your authorization came from. Joe responded, yes, ma'am. He then texted former police chief Michael Bayon. She has now demanded a complete inventory of explorer central and a financial report. Fuck my life. The truth was, it was impossible for Joe to provide Anne Marron with the documentation

she had requested, because he'd obtained the gear fraudulently. Joe had forged the chief signature to obtain the gear from an Army surplus program, knowing it wasn't supposed to be used with the explorers. But that wasn't supposed to be used with the explorers. But that wasn't all. A deep dive into Joe Kalinerwitz' financial records revealed that for the past seven years, he had spent tens of thousands of dollars of the explorer's money to bankroll his own personal expenses. Joe had used the account to pay for everything from his mortgage to gym memberships to online pornography.

He used it for travel expenses, coffee, and to pay over 400 restaurant bills. With all this new evidence coming to light, investigators had no doubt about it. Joe Glinnerwitz feared his time was up. He likely believed he had two options, be exposed for embezzling charitable funds, or go out a hero. If Joe was going to pull his plan off, he knew that everything needed to play out exactly like a regular day. Therefore on the morning of September 1, 2015, he drove to the gas station to buy his usual supply of cigarettes before heading out to the area surrounding the old concrete factory. It was a location Joe knew well, having facilitated sniper training for the explorers out in

the forested surroundings. He arrived at the site and spent the next 30 minutes staging a crime scene. It was something he'd done many times before as part of the Explorer program. He then radioed the dispatcher and fabricated the story about chasing three suspicious males. spatcher and fabricated the story about chasing three suspicious males. After calling for backup, he took his gun out of his holster and shot himself in the hip, knowing it wouldn't be fatal. The shot would have been incredibly painful, but necessary if anyone was going to believe his story.

Joe then shot himself downwards into his bullet-proof vest, purposely hitting the pulmonary artery, but avoiding his heart. This would have given him up to two minutes before bleeding to death. Enough time for Joe to throw his gun between the two trees, and to then stumble away to create distance between himself and the weapon. After nine weeks of investigation, Commander George Falanco fronted a press conference to announce that the murder of Lieutenant Joe Glenowitz hadn't been a murder at all, but a carefully staged suicide.

Falanco said, We have determined this staged suicide was the end result of extensive criminal acts that Glinnerwitz had been committing. There are no winners. Glinnerwitz committed the ultimate betrayal to the citizens he served and the entire law enforcement community. The facts of his actions prove he behaved for years in a manner completely contrary to the image he portrayed. Members of the gathering media were outraged. With suicide mentioned as a possibility from early on, they wanted to know why over two months had been spent on a homicide investigation. They felt the public had been joked.

Commander Filenca assured them that the investigation team had genuinely believed that they were looking at a homicide and were equally shocked to discover the truth. The Glenowitz family issued a statement requesting privacy, saying that the findings had brought another day of deep sorrow as they coped with the loss of a beloved father and husband. The public weren't so quiet. In the wake of Joe's death, a non-profit organization that assists survivors of officers killed in the line of duty had donated $15,000 to the Glenoweth family.

The group asked for the money back. Motorola Solutions also withdrew their $50,000 reward for information, but said they would instead donate it to the explorers, who were grappling to come to terms with the reality of Joe's death. The mother of one of Joe's devoted trainees said, You never thought he was this kind of man. It had a crushing effect on locals, with one man telling the press,

It's breaking my heart. The mystery of Joe's death was over, but that didn't necessarily mean that the case was closed. From the text messages and other evidence, it was clear to investigators that Melody knew her husband was misappropriating the explorer funds. Melody admitted that Joe sometimes took money from the explorer's account, but she insisted that those funds were always paid back. She said she had no idea that her husband was co-mingling funds and denied having any

pardon it. A forensic accountant failed to find a clear link to prove that Melody was directly responsible for any of the transactions. Regardless, in late January 2016, Melody was indicted on six counts, including money laundering and dispersing charitable funds without authority and for personal benefit. She was released after posting a $50,000 bond with the statement released by her lawyer declaring, Melody has suffered greatly over the past few months and continues to move her family forward

after the emotionally traumatizing events of September 1, 2015. Considering Melody's cooperation with law enforcement, she is devastated by the decision to bring charges against her. Melody is a victim of her husband's secret actions and looks forward to her dang court to show the world her innocence. In February 2022, Melody Glynowitz pleaded guilty to one felony count of deceptive practices in exchange for all other charges being dropped. However, she told the court,

I want to make it clear I never took a cent from the explorer fund, no matter what's being reported. The judge sentenced her to 24 months of probation, saying there was no question as to her guilt. No charges were laid against a Joe's son, DJ, as it couldn't be ascertained that DJ knew the funds were stolen until after his father demanded he paid the money back.

The state attorney said, this entire matter has been a sad and tragic saga for the village of Fox Lake. My hope is that we will be able to close this unfortunate chapter and move forward with ensuring a professional and transparent police department dedicated to the citizens of Fox Lake. After the truth about Joe's suicide was exposed, the Fox Lake explorers temporarily disbanded. According to the Chicago Tribune, the program was revealed to have been so poorly mismanaged that some adult volunteers had an even undergone background checks or training.

The military style approach and use of forceful weapons was also in direct violation of Boy Scout regulations, as was the fact that some trainees were sometimes paid to direct traffic and conduct security detailing. It was so problematic that it was easier to start the program from scratch than try to fix the issues. Many of the explorers who were trained under Joe Glenowitz struggled to comprehend the truth about their revered leader. A young woman who had trained under Joe for six years told CNN. You don't know how to feel. You feel so pissed off and you feel so betrayed.

You don't understand it. That makes it very difficult to miss him. But the explorers weren't the only ones who suffered. According to the Daily Herald, the hunter find Joe's fake killers cost more than $300,000 in overtime and other costs. Joe's lie about one of his pseudo-attackers being a black man also fueled ongoing racial tensions in the Fox Lake community, where black people were a minority. Local black resident Vernon Randolph III claimed that Joe Glynowitz had been harassing him for a year due to his race. After Joe killed

himself, investigators searched Vernon's house, took his DNA, and allegedly pointed a gun at his three-year-old child, actions that caused Vernon ongoing anxiety. He filed a federal lawsuit against the police department, claiming that Joe Glynowitz put a target on his back and of his fellow African Americans. The lawsuit was eventually settled outside of court for $65,000, although the department denied any wrongdoing. In the wake of Joe's death, a memorial had been established outside the Fox Lake Police Department with a banner displaying Joe's face, along with the words, A hero remembered, never dies.

When the truth about his suicide was revealed, Vandals quickly altered the sign, drawing an L on Joe's forehead and changing the words to read. A hero forgotten. Other signs in support of Joe were removed from around the village, with the words GI Joe changed to GI Joe. Commander George Filenco told CNN. Joe Glynowitz dishonored what were your swore and oath to uphold. He betrayed not only our profession,

but his entire community. It was the first time I could actually tell you in my entire career that I felt ashamed to be a police officer. Step inside the shadowy world of the 90s music industry, with Casefowl presents, we take you behind the velvet ropes to explore the dark side of the Hollywood club scene, and the nightlife king and queen pins who ruled it. A world where secrets trade hands like currency, among one of the most compelling mysteries, is who murdered Brad Cantor.

Brad Cantor was a rising star in the music industry in 1992 as an A&R executive at Christmas Music and for discovering bands like Rage Against the Machine. By the age of 25, Brad's life was hitting all the right notes. He was the top promoter in Hollywood, a partner in the infamous nightclub Dragonfly, and was dating actress Rosemar Gowen. But his fate would have it. Unexpected events led Brett down a dangerous path. On July 30, 1993, Brett's life in the fast lane took a tragic turn. When he was

found murdered in his West Hollywood apartment, his case remains unsolved to this day. Join us as we reveal the findings of our three-year cold case investigation into Brett Cantor's final days, murder, and the haunting aftermath documented by his family and friends. The last time I saw Brett Alague, he was weird. He cut all his hair off and he changed his look and he acted different. He knew something was up. And I think it wasn't Michael Douglas's house and Heidi threw it.

I got everyone was there from Jack Nicholson to I think Prince of Madonna, it was just insane. My mind was in such a days that I got home and I got a message saying, meet us at the homicide department. Here's I'm calling to tell you our partner, Brett Kinner, and then he said, was murdered

last night. I saw this picture of Brett flash on the screen and they were talking about OJ Simpson trial and Cole and Ron and I was like, wait, what? I know what it's like to deal with powerful people that hide and have many, many tentacles. They're like hydra and they twist power to see if they're in need. Apparently, South Zacuano, who the killers were. The South Zacuano revenge, the South Zacuano's certain message killed for me. This is one rock and roll true crime story you will never forget.

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