Finding 52 (7 page)

Richard Nixon and the Three of Clubs

1957

H
arley was seven years old. The year before, President Dwight Eisenhower and Vice President Richard Nixon nearly ran the tables on their Democratic opponents Adlai Stevenson and Estes Kefauver. What were those seven crazy southern states even thinking…who votes against a war hero? Certainly not Harley’s dad Richard. He even contributed to the president’s reelection efforts; he donated a lot!

Even Abigail voted for Ike. She only did so because Mamie Eisenhower was dubbed as “Hostess in Chief” and that appealed to Abigail. It was even rumored that Mamie sent birthday cards and gifts to the White House domestic staff. Mamie efficiently ran the household just like Abigail ran the Ames household.

Harley understood politics and world issues on all levels but was very careful not to share his views; he figured just about anyone could play golf and win wars, so being president probably wasn’t all that hard. He was more taken with the Vice President. When he looked in Nixon’s eyes he saw things that others didn’t. Evil things. Harley thought a Nixon presidency might be entertaining, at least for him if nothing else.

He only returned home for some weekends and the usual holiday breaks and summer vacation. It was clear to Abigail and even Richard that Harley was changing; he seemed a little different, a little more normal. Richard was certain Harley had grown out of whatever it was that made him seem unusual. Abigail would always be cautious. Meredith no longer thought of Harley as her son; she did think of Clifford nearly every day. There were times when the Three of Clubs came to mind, but she wasn’t sure exactly why.

The Ames apartment was decorated by Abigail for Christmas and it was delightful to look at. She made sure there were two Christmas trees, and both were stunning. Christmas cards were taped around the large archway in the living room. Most of the cards were from Richard’s business associates. Elvis Presley was singing, “I’ll be Home for Christmas” on the radio. The tree had plenty of presents under it and Santa hadn’t even arrived yet.

Harley of course had no belief in Santa or much else. It was December 21, 1957, and Harley would soon enjoy his eighth Christmas. This was the year he decided to give himself a gift.

Abigail was picking up a few things they’d need for the annual Christmas party. She promised Meredith she wouldn’t be very long and assured her that Harley was in his room reading. The day was unusually warm and Abigail had left a few of the windows partially open to take advantage of a mild breeze.

Harley walked out of his room as soon as Abigail left. He went to the dining room and opened the window all the way and said, “Mother, you should come and see this, it’s so beautiful-they’re having a Christmas parade in front of our house.” Meredith went to the window but didn’t see anything. “Bend down a little and look closer, this is my best Christmas ever.” Meredith was a little curious and when she bent down and looked out the window, Harley pushed her as hard as he could.

As Meredith free-falled the entire twelve stories, she thought of the Three of Clubs. Then she hit the ground. She was dead only ten seconds when the playing card fluttered out the window and into the breeze. The card landed thirty feet from Meredith in the gutter and it was face down, just like her.

Harley was elated and he squealed with delight, “Ha! Only fifty more to go.” He noticed a crowd gathering and the rest was easy. He ran down the stairs and ran screaming toward his mother’s body. “Mommy, why did you jump? Mommy, are you alright?” Harley was still screaming and carrying on when Abigail returned with a few sacks of groceries. She held him close and tried to console him.

By now the police were on hand and taking statements. Several witnesses told the officer how they heard she’d jumped. Richard and Abigail eventually gave a statement as to how Meredith had a history of depression and other medical problems. Richard was shocked by what his wife had done, he never thought Meredith would end up a suicide, but in retrospect he realized he had simply missed the signs.

The funeral was well attended and the priest even allowed Meredith a catholic burial. It didn’t matter much to Richard either way, but he didn’t care for the way the priest alluded to the belief that all suicides were hellbound. Richard wrote the priest a check for the parish building fund and nothing more was said.

Abigail did all she could to console Harley. She told him that his mother was in heaven with his baby brother. Harley was sort of hoping they were both in hell with Mr. Splitfoot, if that place even existed. Something Harley never bought into was the concept of heaven and hell. His focus was more immediate—the other fifty.

They were still out to get him; he was sure of it. He made certain the deck of playing cards was in his suit jacket during the funeral and burial. Even better, the Four of Clubs was right on top.

A few days later, Richard asked his sister-in-law Caroline if she’d be interested in having Harley visit her and her husband in North Carolina.

“Oh Richard, we’d be delighted to have Harley visit us,” she said. “Perhaps this summer?”

“Certainly. Abigail can make all of the arrangements. Just give her a call.”

On the train ride back to North Carolina, Caroline told her husband she wanted time alone with Harley. She thought it important. “I want to get to know him. My poor nephew has lost a brother and his mother took her own life.” If Caroline Benchly only knew.

The Monkey in the Window

1976

S
hortly after Victor was off probationary training and allowed to work alone, he was like a kid in a candy store; an entire city was at his disposal.

One night Victor was working the downtown district and things were slow. It was time to find some amusement. The business district was easy work, because after the bars closed he only had to check all the businesses to make sure there were no burglaries or vandalism. Victor never got out of his car to shake the doors to make sure they were locked. His method was quicker. He simply shined the spotlight down the street while looking for broken glass and other signs of tomfoolery.

Gray’s Pet Land was one of three pet stores in Riverside. This particular business was high end; what with the reptiles and other exotic creatures it sold. The customer might opt to purchase a puppy or a kitten at Gray’s Pet Land or lean toward the other possibilities. Things like Burmese pythons and red-tailed boa constrictors sat proudly on display next to the Mexican redleg tarantulas. The newest arrival was a monkey caged in the main window.

The first night of the new detail Victor hit the mother lode. As he was checking doors he drove past the pet store window and surprised the monkey with his spotlight. The monkey was clearly agitated and began to do what monkeys do in such situations...masturbate. Victor was delighted. Who wouldn’t be?

He drove around the block and snuck up on his new friend with the lights off. Victor stopped next to the window and hit the siren for a brief moment and the monkey was far more agitated than the first time. He picked up the pace. Victor squealed with laughter. He simply had to share. He immediately met with the other cops and described his discovery. Before too long they were all going to the pet store and checking things out as boys are want to do. They were so happy to experiment with their new friend-lights off, lights on, siren, or even a horn. The monkey was eager to please one and all.

Within a few days the excitement wore off for many. Riverside’s finest no longer pestered him. The monkey soon learned to hate cops and for some reason he hated Ivan the most. It was rumored that Ivan was the most frequent visitor and even stopped by on his nights off for a show. That poor little guy must’ve been chafed from all of his frenetic exercise and within the month he was no longer in plain view. Before too long the monkey simply vanished. Did someone buy damaged goods? Would the monkey ever be the same after his encounter with Ivan and the other cops? The monkey was forgotten until three years later.

Thaddeus Laperuta was a monumental pain in the ass. He was nuts and annoying and didn’t have a friend in the world except for his monkey, Horacio. Thaddeus adored Horacio and they lived together and would frequently fight and carry on at all hours of the day and night. The neighbors always complained about them and for good reason…Horacio was simply the baddest of the bad. He was ill-mannered and contrary and refused toilet training. During the day Horacio would screech and throw his feces at small children that walked by his house. There were also isolated incidences when he’d throw table lamps and such at the mailman and paperboy. At night things only got worse. Thaddeus drank at night; he drank a lot. Sometimes Horacio joined in on the fun.

Ivan was working with Victor when the calls started coming in from the area where Thaddeus and Horacio lived. The callers reported screaming and glass breaking at that crazy man’s house: The brick house built by the City of Riverside…the brick house they paid for and they wanted something done.

When Ivan and Victor got out of their patrol car things seemed quiet. Three neighbors walked across the street and pointed at the windows, which had all been busted out by Horacio in a simian rage of some sort; small furniture was strewn around the front yard. Ivan spied a horse clock and thought he might take it with him after they sorted out tonight’s mess. The clock was cool and he wondered if it kept the correct time.

Victor asked the neighbors what had transpired. An elderly man who was wearing a bathrobe said, “That monkey is one crazy cocksucker and we want something done and we want it done now! I pay my taxes and I never bought into this shit, those two are ruining the entire neighborhood.”

Ivan overheard what the man said to Victor and he walked up to him and said, “Excuse me sir, did you say that you pay taxes?”

“Fucking A.”

“Well, I’ve been looking all over for you. You’re exactly the man I wanted to speak with.”

“About what?”

Ivan grinned at him and said, “You pay my wages?”

“Yes, I do!”

Ivan got close enough so the man could smell his appalling breath and replied, “You must be the cheap sonofabitch that won’t give policemen a raise. Get the hell out of here before I arrest you for being disorderly.”

Ivan turned to the other witnesses and said, “You two have anything to say?” They both scurried back to their houses. Right about then a couple more police cars pulled up and Quentin and Calvin walked up to Ivan just as gunshots fired off and all hell broke loose.

Both shots were aimed at Horacio, and Thaddeus was the trigger man. The first shot took out the nineteen-inch portable television set, and the second one shattered the six-foot-long aquarium. The living room was littered with broken glass, water, and tropical fish.

Horacio was enraged because he cut his foot on aquarium glass. He bared his teeth and shrieked at Thaddeus. Horacio picked up a flour canister from the kitchen counter and threw it at Thaddeus. The canister missed him but struck Quentin in the head just as he led the charge through the door. It knocked him out immediately, and Ivan tripped over him and landed on several fish. There was flour everywhere.

Thaddeus was nuts but not stupid. Even in his drunken state he managed to pitch the gun in the hallway and yell, “Thank God you arrived. Horacio tried to kill me, he found my pistol and shot at me, shot at me twice! Arrest him!”

Victor and Calvin were in the house as well. Calvin was screaming into his portable radio, “Officer Down! Officer Down.” He got on one knee to check Quentin, and Horacio threw a small vase at Calvin and struck him right between the eyes. Calvin pulled out his service revolver and shot at Horacio, but the shot went wide and took the right ear lobe off Thaddeus.

About the time Quentin was coming around, Horacio crapped on the dining room table and began throwing his feces at everyone. He was running around the house like a whirling dervish and throwing shit everywhere. Not just shit. His shit. Monkey shit. One only needed to take a quick gander to realize just how badly Horacio needed more fiber in his diet.

Horacio was baring his teeth and screeching. Thaddeus said, “Horacio, stop it right now. Come to daddy and behave immediately, or else!”

Victor would later tell his cohorts that Horacio cut a striking figure. His fingernails and toenails were painted in a lovely peach lacquer. He was wearing a sailor boy outfit that Thaddeus had purchased at the Saint Vincent DePaul’s recycle store around the corner. The Goodwill Store had a finer selection of children’s clothing, but he preferred to shop around the block and support a Riverside south end business. The sailor’s hat was kept in place by an elastic strap.

Horacio ran into the hallway and picked up the pistol with one hand and pointed at Thaddeus with the other. “I think the monkey’s trying to tell us Thaddeus did the shooting,” Victor opined.

Ambulances and other policeman were arriving. Ivan roared, “I’m gonna get that monkey and teach him a lesson.”

Horacio launched himself in Ivan’s direction and Ivan had time to mutter, “Holy shit…anchors away my boy,” before he slipped on a couple of fish and fell on his ass. Ivan’s hat landed upside down and his drawn weapon spun under a couch. He rolled over, not unlike a beached whale and that’s when Horacio saw an opening. He jumped on Ivan’s leg and sunk his teeth into his ass as deep as he could.

“Get that bastard away from me. Oh my God it hurts, won’t someone help me?” Ivan was trying to grab the monkey from hell but couldn’t reach him. Every time he got close, Horacio would let go and bite Ivan’s other cheek.

“Batter up,” Quentin yelled and swung his nightstick at Horacio but he ducked just in time and the nightstick caught Ivan right in the nuts. He rolled over and immediately vomited while Quentin was already thinking up lies. Who would have thought that a monkey could kick that hard?

Horacio spied Ivan’s hat and headed that way, screeching like all of hell’s demons had just been given work release. Horacio masturbated into the hat; unfortunately for Ivan there were no witnesses to that display of affection. Horacio shrieked one last time and ran out the front door and into the night.

Thaddeus was bleeding like a stuck pig and Quentin was ready to face the relief pitcher. With Horacio out of the game, Quentin went to work on Thaddeus, hitting him in the kneecap with his “Louisville” department-issued slugger and said, “Take that…you monkey-loving prick!” Thaddeus went down for the last time and Quentin handcuffed him.

The other cops were inside the house and Thaddeus was screaming police brutality. Calvin shouted, “The shooter was a monkey. I saw it with my own eyes. The monkey actually shot that moron that’s rightfully under arrest. I’ll be damn…if I wouldn’t have seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn’t believe it myself.”

Victor chimed in, “Yeah, what Calvin just described? I saw it as well.” Calvin looked at Victor and smiled.

They carried Thaddeus out of the house on a stretcher and into the ambulance. He was able to piss the doctor off at the hospital to the point of his being treated without anything for pain.

Ivan and Victor were stuck with the arrest and paperwork, which meant Victor would be very busy. The inside of the house was totally ravaged, and as Victor was looking for weapons and possible contraband, Ivan was in the front yard. He picked up the horse clock and admired it as the next door neighbor asked him what had happened.

Ivan said, “I guess the monkey shot Thaddeus and assaulted the police.” He walked to the patrol car and placed the horse clock in the backseat as he absently rubbed his lower regions. He turned back to the neighbor. “The monkey’s on the loose. Be careful.”

The neighbor said, “I don’t guess I ever liked that monkey, he was always causing trouble. If I were Thaddeus I would’ve gotten rid of him a long time ago. He bought that monkey at Gray’s Pet Land, but they went out of business and Thaddeus couldn’t get a refund.”

Ivan was too worn out to make the connection. He just wanted to go home and clean up his new horse clock and see how it looked on his bedroom dresser. He went back inside the house and picked up his hat and put it on his large head. His ass hurt, but he was too proud to go to the hospital and have it looked at…how would it appear? They might think the monkey bested him. His balls ached as well. At least he had the horse clock. There was that.

Ivan and Victor walked out of the house. The Sergeant pulled up and rolled the window down. “Officer Klemm, put your hat on, a good police officer always wears his hat. You should follow Ivan’s worthy example, see how he wears his hat?”

Victor said, “I do Sergeant. I will try to be more like Ivan.”

“See that you do officer. We need more good men like Ivan. You two return to the station. Captain Eberhart has a few questions about this monkey.”

By the time they walked into the police station the sticky substance inside Ivan’s hat had already begun to dry. Hours later, when he got home it was completely dry, and when he took his hat off the substance in the hat and on his head was barely noticeable. He put the horse clock on his dresser and it looked pretty good to him. He undressed and got in bed and read a comic book until he fell asleep. He dreamt of Godzilla and other things as well, he remembered some of the dream but not the part about that hateful monkey. For the most part, sleep for Ivan was usually a fantasy slumber.

Thaddeus eventually pled guilty to reduced charges and was evicted from public housing. He never saw Horacio again. Ivan’s wounds finally healed and he did shower, but never thought about having his hat dry cleaned.