THE HAPPY HAT (20 page)

Chapter 34

The Happy Hat

Sebastian Remo wore his Australian Digger Hat–his Happy Hat–whenever he was back on F-1. He wore it to bed and around the ward but was not allowed to wear it elsewhere around the hospital when in uniform. He lay back on his bed with mixed feelings. Remo felt some relief that his cartel duties would be put on hold while he recovered from his surgery next week. Next weekend he would begin his bowel prep to ready his system for his colostomy closure. He lay back on his bed with his Happy Hat pushed forward covering his eyes looking forward to life without a shit bag.

“Remo. Wake up. It’s me–Cros.” Bizetes nudged Remo’s shoulder.

“Wha…? I dosed off. What time is it?” Remo pushed his Digger higher on his head.

“Four o’clock. It’s visiting hours. I have good news for you. After your surgery you’re going to the Brooklyn VA two-weeks after you’re stitches are out. You shouldn’t be there more than two months while you get processed into civilian life.”

“What about the business with Perkins?” Remo lowered his voice and looked around the ward now getting a little noisy from other visitors.

“It’ll be taken care of. Your alert gave us his connection right in our own operation. It’ll get us back almost a quarter of a million dollars.” Bizetes shook Remo’s hand. “You get a finder’s fee.”

“I didn’t do it for the money. The guy can’t fuck with us, you know.”

“You get something just the same. In our business we can’t tolerate skimming. It can lead the feds or the DEA right to our doorstep.” Bizetes smiled. “It’s a bright sunny day. Are you up for a walk on the hospital grounds?”

“Yeah. I have privileges but I have to check with the ward corpsman and nurse.” Remo pressed the button for the Nurses Station and the corpsman came over.

“I’ll get my clipboard and you can sign out for one hour. The weather outside is gorgeous. It’s a perfect spring day.”

“Can I wear my Happy Hat outside?”

“I don’t see why not. Some of you Nam returnees have scarier tattoos than that skull and bones on your Digger hat. And you won’t be doing any hospital business like mail delivery.”

Remo was enthused. He went outside with Bizetes from the F-1 hallway exit and onto the concrete sidewalk that ringed the rear of the hospital. The cherry trees and forsythia along the sides of the walkway were green with buds and ready to burst into floral magnificence. The temperature was in the 70s and they walked at a leisurely pace occasionally nodding to others going in the opposite direction.

They walked by the sun porch at the rear of G-1 and Remo waved to the corpsman at the opened windows.

“Who’s that? He doesn’t look familiar.” Bizetes strained his eyes and his memory.

“He’s the chief corpsman on the G-1 orthopedic ward. It’s the one with LT Sparrow. He’s a cool guy and really knows his shit with the orthopedic patients. He’s in charge of the casts we pick up once a month. His name is Kaplan and he works with the stuck-up nurse who watches over all the removed casts for the hospital–LCDR Skagan.”

“How do you know these people?” Bizetes felt like he was being watched intently by this corpsman.

“From my mail delivery.”

“He seems to be interested in us.” Bizetes got an uneasy feeling.

“I don’t think so. I think it’s my hat–my Happy Hat. It gets a lot of looks.”

‡

Ike Kaplan stared at Remo and his visitor. Remo would stand out in a crowd with that Australian Digger hat. He had a flashback to the air-evacuation plane when he first met Remo. Little did he know the emaciated wounded warrior might be involved in the heroin smuggling ring.
So who was this civilian guy?

Kaplan reached into his pocket for his Minox camera. It had the dimensions of a package of chewing gum and he’d been using it to photograph personnel records for background on Skagan, Remo, Sparrow and Perkins. Stokely had given him a lens attachment which the Bureau claimed would have resolution up to a hundred yards.
I hope it can identify Remo’s visitor
.
I’ll check for his name at the main desk later.
He pocketed the camera just as he felt a touch on his shoulder.

“The weekend after next is supposed to have just as good weather even as far out as Montauk. Ever been there?” The sweet voice jerked Kaplan back to being a corpsman.

Kaplan turned around abruptly and looked around. There were only the two of them on the sun porch. “Phil, you startled me. And I…um…no…I’ve never been to Montauk.”

“I have plans for us on that weekend. Queens Naval Hospital is on Long Island and you’ve never been to the end of Long Island? To Montauk Point jutting out into the Atlantic?” Skagan looked into his eyes.

“Never.” Kaplan had a meltdown. Skagan’s face and eyes were magnetic. She was beautiful in the sunlight with her slight smile and dimples. She was not the obsessive-compulsive nurse in charge of removed orthopedic plaster casts. He wanted to scoop her up into his arms.

“Don’t do what you’re thinking Ike.” She moved slightly away.

“How do you know what I was thinking?”

“I just know. How about it? Are you up for a togetherness weekend?” She folded her arms under her pert breasts.

It would be their last weekend. In two weeks whatever relationship they had would be changed forever–hopefully for the better. “Yes. A thousand times yes.”

Chapter 35

A Weekend in Heaven and Hell

Skagan had come to G-1 not only to deliver the weekend invitation. “So that’s good. Now to business. Do you have anything more on Amstel Perkins?”

“I should have by the end of next week. I mean a week before the biodisposal pickup. I’m collecting the air-evac rosters to get hard evidence that Perkins is deliberately screwing up the application sites for some Nam returnees.”

“Why would he do that? I mean what’s the purpose?” They walked back to the Nurses Station.

Kaplan stopped and looked into her eyes again.
She really doesn’t know about the heroin. I hope to God you really are as innocent as you appear.
“I haven’t a clue. Once we confront Perkins we’ll find out.”

“I’ll call you tonight. I know you’re on call for the weekend and can’t go anywhere.” Skagan moved sideways away from him with a longing look.

Kaplan felt butterflies in his stomach until she went by the cast room and his thoughts rapidly returned to Perkins, Remo and the man with Remo.

‡

The week flew by. Each day the air-evacs seemed to get slightly larger by a few patients. The weekend before the combined FBI-DEA operation was upon him. It could be his last weekend ever with Skagan. He hoped not.

Departure for their weekend would be from Skagan’s condo and Kaplan arrived at her door with his jacket on one arm and an overnight suitcase gripped in his other hand. The jacket was preparedness for possible crisp Montauk Point ocean breezes. He rapped on her door.

“Right on time.” Her smile seemed as wide as the doorway and she seemed to glow.

“Seven-AM per instructions ma’am.” He moved into her warm condo as the dark brown giant fur ball brushed against his leg. “And good morning to you too Bork.”

She closed the door. “Don’t give me that ma’am stuff when we’re out of uniform Ike.” She threw her arms on his shoulders and kept her soft warm lips on his as Kaplan’s jacket and suitcase dropped to the floor.

They held on to each other as if they were lovers who’d been apart for a year. Kaplan looked into her bright blue eyes. “If we start something here we may never leave and even be late for work Monday.”

They both laughed. Skagan moved away from his bulging groin and she couldn’t help staring. “Wow. It’s amazing what a first kiss in the morning will do.”

“Your first kiss in the morning Phil. Only yours.” They reached for each other again.

“No. We have to go. It’s a long ride to where we’re going.” She put on her jacket over here bright red sweater. She noticed he wore jeans like her. “We can get coffee at the corner gas station when I fill the tank. I’ll drive.”

Let her take charge. It’s easier that way. I’m glad I didn’t wear my .45. Her hug would have found it.
Kaplan had his Colt automatic in his suitcase. FBI training still meant he was an Agent 24/7 even though he had all but written Philomena Skagan from his felon list.

The car radio was on a soft “listening” music station set on low volume as they sipped their coffee between topics of conversation which was now about Long Island. A Frank Sinatra song had transitioned to a Julie London breathy lilt of “Cry Me a River”. Traffic was light and she kept within the speed limit. “Ike we’ll stop for breakfast at 9-o’clock. There’s a great hearty truck stop eating place just outside Islip. Lunch will be at Hampton Bays and we check in at the Gull Neck Bed and Breakfast in Montauk three hours before sunset.”

“Sounds like a well planned operation.” He grinned.

“Remember what I said about military references. This is a date–one that requires thought out logistics.” She sipped her coffee. “I want to take some time getting to know more about the real Isaac Kaplan.”

Kaplan’s heart skipped a beat. “We both know about each other’s families and where were from.”

“No. I mean what kinds of books do you read? What kind of movies do you like? Can you cook? Do you do your own laundry or send it out? What about religion?”

“Oh boy. And I’m a captive audience.” Kaplan took a deep breath. “I read Herman Wouk, James Michener and I like occasional mysteries and thrillers. I love western movies. Being half Italian I love to cook and of course I do my own laundry. I even iron my own clothes–except for uniforms. Those I send to the hospital cleaners. I grew up in an Italian family but religion was an open issue. My father was a Jewish atheist. My mother said I was baptized into the Catholic Church but we were never church goers. I took courses in all religions in college and kind of like protestant thinking–Lutheran and Methodist are my favorites.”

“I read sea stories. I love war novels of all kinds and I’m a history buff.” Skagan gave him a quick sideways glance as she settled into the travel lane. “I’m a Doris Day worshipper for her movies and music. You know I can cook and keep house. I can’t stand religious fanatics and if I were to get married any Christian location would do. Who do you like for music?”

“Hands down I love Sinatra, folk music and tolerate rock-and-roll. I love to dance in case you want to know.”

Skagan took a deep breath after a few seconds of silence. “How many children do you want to have?”

“That’s loaded question?”

“No it isn’t. I think everyone visualizes what their future family will be composed of. Breakfast is coming up fast.” She gave her turn signal.

“I mean your question is zeroing in on us. We haven’t known each other that long.”

“Okay. Save your answer for later. Let’s eat.” She pulled into the truck stop restaurant.

‡

“I don’t see why I’m here.” Perkins looked at Mindel. “We don’t get the casts until next Friday and we don’t work on them until next Saturday–the day after. I have personal things to do this weekend.”

Mindel had called Perkins on Thursday and told him to be at the warehouse for a meeting. He motioned Perkins to a chair. “Cros Bizetes wanted a meeting with us. You’re not going to be in the Navy forever and it’s time we discuss your future with our organization.”

“Where’s Abe Linsky?” Perkins sat in a chair opposite Mindel’s cluttered desk.

“His future is etched in stone with us so we’re here to discuss you.” Bizetes baritone voice caromed around the open office space as he entered the room.

“Why now?” Perkins always felt uncomfortable around Bizetes.

“The war is over young man. We’ll always have some kind of drug operation or other and we like loyal and experienced people that we know.” Bizetes grabbed a chair to sit next to Perkins.

“I have plans to go back to school–to college–after the Navy. I want to do something more than work in a warehouse.” Perkins shifted uneasily in his seat.

“It’s good to have ambition Perkins.” Bizetes put his hand on Perkins’ right shoulder. “But not the wrong kind of ambition.” Bizetes nodded to Mindel.

“We have the results of your urine screens and we also checked the dust in your apartment.” Mindel opened a small file on his desk.

Perkins tried to stand but could not. Bizetes tightened his grip on Perkins shoulder. “Please just sit down for now.”

“Heroin and plaster dust. Stealing from your employer is not considered loyalty Perkins.” Mindel stood up as two heavy-set men came into the room. “These two gentlemen have been looking into your affairs. You have a tidy bank account–much more than we or the Navy pays you. We also have an inside report of you doctoring air-evac triage rosters before the JMOOD sees them. You were also seen taking plaster casts home.”

“Why would you want to do this to us Perkins?” Bizetes relaxed his grip and looked at his watch. “You have three hours to withdraw all the money you’ve stolen from us from your bank. These two men will accompany you. If you refuse you’ll never leave here alive.”

‡

The sun was bright and the breeze from the ocean was indeed cool and brisk. The Gull Neck Bed and Breakfast was a weathered cedar planked Cape Cod shaped house overlooking a protected inlet on the Montauk peninsular. They walked into the lobby of the Bed and Breakfast with their luggage wearing their jackets. Skagan went to the registration desk with Kaplan following. The walls were covered with seashore relics and pictures of lighthouses and other nautical themes.

“We have reservations–Mr. and Mrs. Isaac Kaplan.” Skagan’s voice was soft and mellow.

Kaplan coughed and almost choked at her words.

“Come over here dear. I’ll sign the forms. You give the man your credit card.” She had to laugh at his embarrassment. “What’s the matter dear? Is the clean ocean air a bit of a shock from the city pollution?”

Kaplan complied.
Sometimes
I don’t know whether I love her or just admire her assertiveness
. He filled out the registration papers.
I guess I am in love with her. Why else am I doing this? My God
.

“You’re on the second floor, room 22.” The receptionist handed her the key. There were only two floors to the Bed and Breakfast. He read them the rules and times for meals and gave them some literature as to the local stores and eateries which were still open this time of the year.

They put their suitcases down and Skagan unlocked the room with her key. Before she could enter, Kaplan turned her around to face him.

“Mr. and Mrs. Kaplan huh. Since I don’t remember carrying you over the threshold now is a good as time as ever to do it.” He effortlessly scooped her up in his arms and went into the quaint room. It was furnished with a colonial sofa, two parlor chairs, coffee table, small wall entertainment center, a small bathroom with the door slightly ajar and a four-poster queen bed. The room had steam radiator heat and was warm and inviting. Kaplan walked over to the bed, kissed her and laid her gently onto the quilted comforter. “I’ll get our bags.”

He locked the door. Kaplan went over to her as she sat with her hands on the edges of the bed with a smile and glistening eyes. Regardless of the outcome next Friday he was going to tear up his letter to Stokely. He sat next to her, put an arm around her and kissed her gently.

“Three.” She looked into his eyes.

“Three? Three what?” Kaplan pushed aside a lock of her hair from her forehead and kissed her again.

“Three children. Two-years apart. Two boys and a girl.” She reached for his hands.

He kissed her again and they couldn’t stop touching and embracing.

‡

After the bank transaction they brought Perkins back to the warehouse into the plaster processing area. “Sit on the table.” One of the hulks ordered.

Perkins began to sweat. He remembered the woman who was eviscerated. “I gave you the money. I learn from my mistakes.”

“We want others to learn from your mistakes. First off, I sort of didn’t come clean with you. Abe Linsky is here.” Bizetes nodded to the second hulk who came forward with a heavy square box. “Open it.”

The box was opened and the embalmed head of Abraham Linsky was lifted by Linsky’s hair to face Amstel Perkins. The look of twisted fear and grotesque agony on Linsky’s embalmed head was as horrific as the head of Medusa–without the snakes.

Perkins screamed. His mouth was immediately duct-taped into silence. His hands, arms and legs were likewise immobilized with the strong grey tape into a flat supine position. Bizetes nodded to the two muscular assistants and they continued to use five complete rolls of gray duct tape to mummify Perkins.

“Place extra tape in a jock-strap fashion around his crotch and ass. We don’t want any leakage of bodily products.” Bizetes watched as Perkins grey-taped straight body was brought to a standing position. “Now the plaster.”

Perkins entire body from head-to-toe was wrapped in plaster to a final three-inch thickness. He became a Boomer Stiles without any openings for face or groin access. A large bore needle was used to provide tiny air-holes at his nose and ears. They couldn’t be seen with the naked eye.

“It’ll probably take two weeks for you to die. I’m not going to inflict any pain on you. Not like we did to your friend Linsky.” Bizetes looked at Mindel. “Do you have the tickets?”

Mindel held up the stack of tickets and handed them to Bizetes. “Perkins you can’t see what I’m holding but everyone in our employ is going to see you. They will see you for the next few days, weeks, months and maybe years. You won’t be able to piss or shit and gradually you’ll get weak. You’ll have plenty of time to regret the consequences of your actions. We’ve filmed what happened here and will continue to film and take pictures of you at your next destination–The Museum of Natural History.”