PODCAST TRANSCRIPT: THE NOSY NEIGHBOR, EPISODE 108
BILL PARSONS, HOST: I’d like to welcome back all of my loyal listeners to the Nosy Neighbor podcast. I’m your host, Bill Parsons. If you’re new to the podcast, well, then, welcome to the show devoted to asking questions and finding out details about some of the nation’s most intriguing cases. For an hour each week, we invite you to be that nosy neighbor you don’t want to admit you are. We delve into the gossip and peek behind the blinds. This week’s show is no exception and one we’ve had requested for the past two years. It seems you all want to know the truth behind the arrest of the so-called suburban madam, Norah Ramsey, in Raleigh, North Carolina.
Rumors of Ramsey’s ties to some pretty important men in Raleigh—a city known as a center for technology and the North Carolina state government—were rampant and relentless. And when news of the discovery of a body in the lake near Norah Ramsey’s suburban residence hit, interest in this case reached a fever pitch. And I think in today’s episode you’ll find out why. Today we’ve got one of Norah Ramsey’s actual neighbors with us. Bess Strickland, welcome to the podcast.
BESS STRICKLAND: Thank you, Bill. [Clears throat.] Excuse me.
BILL PARSONS: Would you like a drink of water?
BESS STRICKLAND: No, I’m fine. I’m just a bit . . . nervous. Talking about what happened can still be sort of . . . hard.
BILL PARSONS: But you felt it was important to come on the show.
BESS STRICKLAND: Yes. I did. Those of us who were personally affected by this case feel strongly that the true story needs to be told. There are a lot of rumors lingering that are just . . . inaccurate. There were people who were impacted by this case who did nothing wrong, and I think that’s important to keep in mind. As someone who cares about my neighbors, I just want to make sure they’re fairly represented.
BILL PARSONS: I’m sure. And don’t worry. We’ll make this easy. Let’s just start with who you are in relation to Norah Ramsey.
BESS STRICKLAND: Well, like you said, Bill, I am—or I was—her neighbor. We lived on the same street. Our daughters were best friends and, well, once we were, too.
BILL PARSONS: Is there a story there?
BESS STRICKLAND: Not really. We just grew apart. It happens.
BILL PARSONS: Indeed it does. From what I’ve read, Norah kept pretty much to herself. Wasn’t really close to anyone. Mainly just interacted with her daughter, Violet, who was, what, fifteen when all this occurred?
BESS STRICKLAND: Yes, our daughters are the same age. They were both fifteen when Norah was arrested.
BILL PARSONS: And you said they were best friends?
BESS STRICKLAND: Well, that friendship had actually tapered off, too. Both girls had started moving in different directions. No real falling out or anything. Just growing up, you know?
BILL PARSONS: But it was that friendship that prompted Norah Ramsey to send her daughter, Violet, to stay with you when she was arrested, am I right?
BESS STRICKLAND: Yes, that’s right. Violet came directly to my house after the police allowed her to pack some things. They were searching the house, from what I understand, for evidence or whatever, so Violet had to leave while that was taking place. That went on for a couple of days, as I recall.
BILL PARSONS: I bet that was hard for the whole neighborhood. Cops everywhere. The press. Onlookers trying to get a glimpse of “The Madam’s House.”
BESS STRICKLAND: Yes, it was a stressful time for all of us. But, to be clear, Norah did not run a bordello out of her home. That was all run out of the spa used as a front. Our neighborhood was—well, it still is—a family-friendly community. It’s not the place where something like that would happen.
BILL PARSONS: But it did, though. Didn’t it?
BESS STRICKLAND: [voice barely audible] Yes, I guess it did.
BILL PARSONS: OK, we’re going to take a short break to hear from one of our sponsors. But stay tuned because when we come back, we’re going to hear more from Bess Strickland, giving us all that peek inside the home of Norah Ramsey, bringing out your inner nosy neighbor. Don’t go away.
Norah
August 25
She was shopping online for luxury-brand anti-aging cream, about to press “Purchase” to spend more money than she cared to admit for the sake of her vanity, when her phone buzzed beside her. Lately, whenever that phone went off, she experienced a jolt of anxiety. It felt like a small seizure.
She could still recall when the sound of the ringing phone had meant creditors chasing her down, how her body had reacted the exact same way then. She could only guess it was like muscle memory: what to do in cases of severe panic. Back then she had thought that was as bad as it could get, owing money she didn’t have to people who expected to collect it nonetheless. Funny how that time—those old phone calls—had led right up to this one, to these mini seizures every time the phone rang all over again.
When she saw that it was just Violet calling, she exhaled loudly, her breath making a whooshing sound in the otherwise quiet room. She needed to turn on some music, and fast. Music always made her feel better, drove the demons away. Quiet just bred anxiety. When baby Violet had cried, she used to turn the music louder than her wails. She would hold her on her hip and the two of them would dance away the tears.
She answered the phone. “Hey, baby,” she said to her only child, hoping that the tone of her voice belied any wisps of lingering panic. She didn’t want to alarm her daughter. Because no matter what happened, Violet would be fine. Norah would make sure of that. Norah always made sure of that.
She heard static on the other end, only pieces of her daughter’s voice coming through, staccato syllables. Sometimes when this happened, she wondered if her phone was bugged. She glanced around the den, wondering if it was bugged, too. If someone was listening to her right now. Or, God forbid, watching her. She glanced down at the threadbare T-shirt and very old sweatpants she wore. She was just being paranoid.
“Vi?” she asked the static.
“Mom?” She heard her daughter’s voice, then more static.
“Vi! Call me back!” she hollered into the phone. She ended the call, put the phone on her lap, and waited. A moment went by before it buzzed again. She smiled and picked it up. “Is that better?” she asked.
“Huh?” a voice said. She had not looked to see who it was. In that brief moment, as she’d waited for Violet to call back, she’d forgotten to be worried. Not that she wouldn’t have answered her business partner’s call if she’d looked first. She and Lois were in this together, after all. They were all each other had right now.
“Sorry, Lo,” she said. “I thought you were Vi. We had a bad connection earlier.”
“He was there again,” Lois said, skipping pleasantries. Norah heard the anxiety in her friend’s voice.
“Wh-what was he doing?” she asked.
“You know, skulking around like he always does. Looking with those eyes of his. Asking lots of stupid questions. He asked to use the bathroom, and Tessa said he had to be a paying customer. He said, ‘Oh yeah, I’m sure I do.’”
“Tessa told you this?” Norah asked.
“Yes, she called as soon as he left.”
Norah sighed into the phone because there was nothing else to say.