Dee Dee Moore, getting ever more desperate, has now admitted to covering up Abraham Shakespeare’s death. However, she swears she did not personally kill him. That part may actually be true. Dee Dee doesn’t strike me as the kind of person who would get her hands dirty if she could avoid it. But it doesn’t really matter — under American law, if Dee Dee Moore was an accomplice in Shakespeare’s death, she gets punished just the same as if she were the actual killer.
This is like the ten billionth story she’s told about Shakespeare. First he was alive and still hanging around the area. Then he was alive and she’d helped him disappear and didn’t know where he was. Then he was dead, but she didn’t do it, no, it was Colonel Mustard in the ballroom with the wrench!
The police were calling her a “person of interest” which is a euphemism for “suspect.” Now, it seems, they’re calling her a “person of intense interest.” What’s that a euphemism for? “Person who is guiltier than OJ” perhaps? Though I really don’t like that article/editorial. The author seems to be saying that Shakespeare deserved what happened to him because he couldn’t handle all his money. Shakespeare couldn’t have read the guy’s advice book anyway.
There’s a good article in the Lakeland Ledger about the latest developments. I love how the headline is just “Moore Denies Killing Him.” No more specifics needed. You can also view the video Dee Dee made as evidence that Shakespeare had just walked out of his life.
Me, I think Dee Dee Moore is an excellent candidate for a profile on People You’ll See in Hell. Of course her deadly sin would be Greed.
The Plant City Courier and Tribune interviewed Dee Dee Moore, who claims it was HER tip that lead the cops to Abraham Shakespeare’s body on her boyfriend’s property. Of course, she’s innocent of murder and any other wrongdoing, and only guilty of trying to help a guy out. She doesn’t explain how she knew Shakespeare’s body would be buried under that concrete slab (which she admits she had poured).
Keep digging, Dee Dee.
January 31, evening: My boyfriend comes home from work. I am very tired. We watch a movie. He plays video games while I read two books. I then open up a third book, I Little Slave. A memoir by a former political prisoner from Laos, it’s rather dull at first. I read on the couch until I become sleepy.
11:30 p.m. My boyfriend goes to bed. I follow at midnight or a little after.
1:30 a.m.: Having been unable to sleep in spite of weariness, I return to reading I Little Slave on the couch. The book picks up a bit. Periodically, I return to bed and lie there awhile, awake.
8:30 a.m.: I finish I Little Slave.
9:00 a.m.: I finally fall asleep. I keep tossing and turning, however, waking up for a few seconds every hour or so.
1:00 p.m.: I wake up abruptly and do not get out of bed, hoping to fall back asleep.
1:30 p.m.: I give up, get up, shower, go out to run errands. I feel horrible and my jaw aches.
6:45 p.m.: I return to my boyfriend’s house and laze about. Deliberately, I do not start another book. I am too tired to update my website. I lie on the couch and play Civ4.
7:30 p.m.: I am very hungry, having not eaten much all day, but am unable to motivate myself to get food. I go into the bathroom, look in the mirror and examine the dark circles under my eyes.
8:30 p.m.: I take crazymeds, go to boyfriend’s room and lie in the dark for awhile. I turn on my new book light and begin reading Testament to Courage in the dark. I hope it will turn out to be boring and maybe I’ll fall asleep. It isn’t, and I don’t.
11:00 p.m.: Boyfriend comes home. I tell him how tired I am and say I’ll go to bed early. I lose a coin toss with his roommate and am sent out to get dinner. After I return with dinner and we eat, I go to boyfriend’s room and lie on his bed. My whole face aches.
11:30 p.m.: I resume reading Testament to Courage in my boyfriend’s room, in the dark with the book light. My boyfriend and his roommate play video games.
2:00 a.m.: I finish Testament to Courage, get up and go into the living room. I lie on the floor and watch the video games.
3:00 a.m.: I return to bed, with no success. I keep alternating back and forth between bed and the living room. My boyfriend asks me to make sure he’s up by noon. Hoping I will not be awake at that time, I set an alarm for him.
Sometime after 4:30 a.m.: My boyfriend goes to bed, waking me up as he does so. I don’t think I’ve been asleep for more than a few minutes. I fall asleep again.
7:30 a.m.: I wake abruptly, feeling rather worse than I did yesterday.
A Plant City Courier and Tribune article says the police hope to learn Abraham Shakespeare’s cause of death today, which probably means they will announce it tomorrow. Toxicology results won’t be back for some weeks, but the cutting-him-open-and-looking-inside part of the autopsy is over. I hope there’s some kind of obvious indication of murder — not that it’ll be hard to prove. The guy didn’t dig himself a five-foot hole, bury himself and pour a concrete slab on top of himself, now did he?
The aforementioned article has some discussion going on in the comments section, including a few people who claim to have known Abraham Shakespeare or DeeDee Moore personally. One commenter asks, “Doesn’t anybody use lime any more? Or is that quicklime?? I keep forgetting which one gets rid of the evidence and which one preserves it.” For your information, commenter, quicklime can both preserve a body and help disintegrate it faster. Plain quicklime sprinkled on a body acts as a preservative; it mummifies instead of rotting. You must mix the quicklime with water if you want it to speed up the decomposition.
Not that I, personally, know anything about that. I’ve just heard stuff. There’s no reason to go looking underneath the concrete floor of my basement. None whatsoever.