Mike Boudet

The women who raised Michael and her grandson Jalen.

And three other innocent women who just happened to cross the wrong path.

In this tiny blue interrogation room that resembled a prison cell, detectives and Michael sat for hours on end, eating cheeseburgers from McDonald's as the questions came one after another.

While the barred window raised, Michael smoked blackened mild cigars.

The smoke mixing with the scent of sweat and making its way out the window to the sweltering streets of Cleveland.

They were finally coming to understand this killer.

It was a simple but disturbing statement.

In that one sentence, Michael revealed a cracked mirror of identity, pride, and resentment against women.

In 2025 especially, it's not unusual to hear the voices of frustration from men who feel diminished in relationships and society at large.

Still, his words, though wrapped in philosophical language, revealed a specific grievance.

This was a man whose sense of self had been shaped and maybe shattered by the women around him.

Still, nothing could justify the brutality that followed.

He never offered a formal confession, not in so many words.

But he did give what experts call a functional confession.

That's when a suspect doesn't technically admit guilt, but their behavior shows it.

They lead police to evidence only the killer would know.

They describe crime scenes in detail.

They help close the loop.

Think of Ted Bundy, who helped investigators find remains even years after denying some of his murders.

Or Israel Keys, who mapped out the burial site of one of his victims despite refusing to name all of his crimes.