Henry Zebrowski

So unless Dante took his ill-gotten gains to the bank and exchanged the small bills that he stole in the heist for larger ones, this was likely just a box of money.

Yeah.

I mean, he has a condo in Chicago.

That's pretty good.

Well, as far as where he got the money, that question might have been answered that very night.

See, Cooley did eventually escape the increasingly uncomfortable hangout.

But hours later, Count Dante called Cooley's house.

Cooley, of course, didn't answer.

It was the middle of the fucking night.

So Dante left an almost panicked message on Cooley's answering machine.

He said, quote, Bob, I got to tell you.

Whether it's an extreme coincidence or a part of some grander conspiracy, the deadliest man alive may have had reason to be panicked that night because within hours of making that last phone call to Bob Cooley, Count Juan Rafael Dante was dead.

According to Bob, Count Dante's living girlfriend at the time called him the next morning and said that the Count had been killed and that it was her belief that someone had poisoned him.

Now, I can see why she thought that, because if you'll remember from the last episode, Count Dante had a persistent bleeding stomach ulcer from, quote, dealing with all the politics of the martial arts world.

Well, that persistent bleeding stomach ulcer, that was listed as his cause of death.

And as anyone who's seen a medical procedural knows, dying from internal hemorrhaging caused by a stomach ulcer is usually accompanied by the patient projectile vomiting blood.

So I can see why the count's girlfriend assumed poisoning.

But interestingly, when the police came and took the body away, the entire box of cash was missing from the closet.

And Bob Cooley is adamant that Dante's girlfriend did not take the money, nor did she hide it.

As such, there is still over $1 million missing from the Perlator heist of 1974.