In 1977, seventeen-year-old Louise Betts disappeared from Loves Park, Illinois. Months later, her remains were found in a rural Boone County field, and Curtis Brownell was eventually convicted of her brutal murder.

But more than forty years after Louise was buried, her family learned something almost unimaginable: the Boone County coroner who handled her remains had kept her skull.

This is the disturbing story of Louise Betts — a missing girl, a convicted killer, decades of parole battles, and a final betrayal that remained hidden for more than four decades.

This is an episode of the podcast that could have gone in a lot of directions – it’s an episode about the Devil, cults, true crime, satanic films, witchcraft, music, mind control, murder, and more – and really, maybe all these things and not even half of them. Who knows? It’s gotten so convoluted over the last 50 years that no one can say for sure. There are so many theories, excuses, and strange claims that have been wrapped up in all that I’m going to tell you about that one theory may be right, none of them may be right, or, honestly, I think that maybe little piece of every single one of them may be right.

I have absolutely no idea… but I do know that what happened in August of 1969 really did kill anything good that came from of the 1960s and ruined the lives of a lot of people. I also know that the story that I’m about to tell you is probably a load of crap, but just in case it’s not, don’t say that I didn’t warn you.

In the fall of 1926, the best friend of Chicago gangsters returned to politics and got his name added to the Republican mayoral primary ballot. William “Big Bill” Thompson was back from political exile – he just couldn’t stay away.

In early July, he sailed his yacht down the Chicago River and into Lake Michigan, carrying an motley crew of politicians, businessmen, beer-swilling clowns, assorted cronies, and a gangster or two. They were cheered on by thousands of people who lined the shoreline. The man was a walking punchline, but people loved him.

He’d spent the last year or so rebuilding his political capital, knowing that Chicago was not a city that wanted reform as badly as the current mayor wanted to offer it. Al Capone was so enthused about the corrupt former mayor's return that he contributed $250,000 to Thompson’s campaign fund and introduced every form of bribery and terrorism imaginable on the man’s behalf.

It was also during this campaign that Capone was credited with the Chicago’s most famous political slogan and one that’s still around to this day:

“Vote early and vote often.”