Finding 52 (10 page)

The Captain glared at Martin. The hose monkey said, “The same here, sir!” Martin couldn’t help but look down and stare in amazement at the Captain’s very large and powerful fingers.

Martin stayed on the Riverside Fire Department and later on tried his own hands at politics. He made a successful run at commissioner but his accomplishments were marginal at best. For Theo Schiller’s part he resigned from the commission shortly after he appeared in court. Local newspaper reporters were on hand and for once they managed to get the quote from Theo exactly right. They focused mainly on how he apologized to the judge for the way he had behaved. The judge fined them both a hundred dollars and suspended their sentences. They were required to perform community service work. The next four weekends were spent washing police cars, and when the janitor saw them he ran off again.

The Evil Spirits Motorcycle Gang

1980

T
he Evil Spirits motorcycle gang had chapters in nearly every state but was especially prevalent in the Midwest, and Riverside, Michigan, was no exception to their presence. The gang members wore leather and had long hair and refused to shave. For most of them bathing was not on their bucket list, or part of their daily routine. They ran together and they had loud motorcycles. America feared them while the police did not. The gang members rarely went out alone and for them safety in numbers said it all. They loved to stare at the cops and give dirty looks and all manner of disrespect. As far as the police were concerned they would ignore the looks but get even when things got dark, especially around bar closing time.

The gang carried guns and many of them were better armed than the police. This did nothing to deter the Regulators. One very hot night a group of them left a motorcycle hangout called Aces-up Tavern. For fun, most of the cops called it Assholes-up Tavern, and one time Albert slipped up and called it just that over the police radio. He was given a day off for cursing on the radio, but he didn’t mind, the entire summer had been very hot and Albert was already considering a career move.

On one particular night in August eight gang members were leaving the Aces-up Tavern. Three were on motorcycles and the rest of them were piled in a beat-up van. They pulled out of the parking lot and onto Belmont Street and Reg was about a half block behind them. He had his window rolled down and when he drove past the Aces-up Tavern someone in the parking lot yelled, “They’re just having fun!”

Reg heard, “They have a gun!”

Hot damn
, Reg thought,
probable cause!
He followed the motley crew and called for assistance. By the time he pulled them over there was one van, three motorcycles, and eight police cars. Everyone was ordered out of the van. Victor was wielding a shotgun and so was Quentin. The rest of the cops had handguns and all of them were pointed at the gang. For special effect, the cops were all cursing at them; there were high school swears and threats of violence if they didn’t behave.

The pat downs began. The gang members were holding their hands on the van and their legs were spread apart, but not all eight of them…only seven. The eighth gang member was a midget and his hands were holding the left front tire of the van. His nickname was Big John. The gang was funny like that, calling a midget Big John.

Calvin and Quentin conducted the pat downs. They came up with three handguns and some marijuana. Big John had a dozen condoms on him and Quentin singled him out as an eternal optimist. Three arrests were made and a couple of the bikers were less than pleased. Manny Arvis and Freddie Hamilton thought it was bullshit of the purest ray serene and questioned the probable cause.

“Fucking pigs! You got no reason to even stop us. We’re upright taxpaying citizens. You bunch of dick chews all work for me,” Manny Arvis shouted as spittle rolled down his chin.

Freddie Hamilton was far shrewder than Manny and had spent five years longer in prison than Manny. Freddie offered, “You fucksticks got no PC-anything you find gets tossed, everyone knows that much.”

Reg and Calvin looked at one another and Calvin winked at Reg as he walked up to Freddie. “Shut your cakehole numbnuts,” Calvin said. Before Freddie could crack wise, Calvin hit him in the kneecap with his nightstick and Freddie was down for the count and all thoughts of due process was gone. Freddie was done for the night and so were his slightest hopes of constitutional protection and truth telling on behalf of Riverside’s finest.

In Freddie’s unbiased opinion, they were all fucked.

Quentin decided they could handcuff all three of them with two sets of handcuffs for a joke. He handcuffed Freddie’s right wrist to Big John’s left wrist and with the other set of handcuffs, he handcuffed Big John to Manny. Quentin said, “Well, what the fuck do you make of these guys? Looks like Freddie and Manny are walking Big John to grade school; little Johnny is too small to walk to school yet and he might get lost.”

“Good one, Quentin, a pretty rose between two thorns,” Reg said. “Let’s get a picture of the school boy and his two uncles.” Reg walked to one of the patrol cars and grabbed a camera and said, “Hey stupid, say cheese.”

To everyone’s delight all three of them immediately looked at Reg and he took their picture. “At least they know their names,” Calvin said. They loaded all three in one of the patrol cars that had a cage.

Quentin drove to the station and Victor rode shotgun and kept an eye on the suspects. Victor was in a frisky mood. He detested all of them and was leery of midgets as well. “Listen to me, Big John, if you behave yourself I might give you a sucker and a tour of the police station. All of the other first graders love suckers and tours. Hell, I might even give you a lollipop if you’re a real nice little boy.”

Big John bellowed, “FUCK YOU FUCKER! TAKE THESE HANDCUFFS OFF AND I’LL KICK YOUR NUTS IN!”

“Simmer down, Big John,” Victor said. “It’s against the rules and regulations to let midget prisoners climb ladders so they’re tall enough to kick anyone’s nuts in…’sides I was just joking. You and I both know juries always give the short shit’s the benefit of the doubt. You might want to say the big guys were picking on you and made you carry the gun and buy rubbers.”

Big John simply glared at Victor. If hate could be measured, Victor would do well to tone things down a bit. “What’s the matter little buddy? Cat got your tongue?”

Little John spit through the cage and directly in Victor’s face and said, “There you go pig! You might want to wipe that off, because I think I might be coming down with a cold. That’s what I get for sleeping too close to the crack last night. Your mother’s crack.”

“Oh boy,” Quentin said as he pulled the car to screeching halt. Victor took his gun out of the holster and handed it to Quentin. He said, “Sit tight buddy, I’ll be right with you.”

He opened the back door and jumped in the backseat and right on top of Big John. Freddie and Manny were both laughing their asses off and sat back and watched. They both had one free hand but knew it wasn’t enough to stop what was about to occur. Victor grabbed Big John by the throat and squeezed as hard as he could and began shaking him back and forth.

“Take it back, you lying little cocksucker. Take it back or I swear I’ll choke the ‘Evil Spirit,’ or whatever the piss you idjits are calling yourselves, right the fuck out of your black heart. TAKE BACK WHAT YOU SAID ABOUT MY MOTHER…YOU LYING DINK!”

Big John’s eyes were bulging and his legs twitched but there was no place for him to go. He would find no safe haven and no solace; he was knocking on death’s door.

Quentin chimed in from the front seat, “I heard it myself, Victor, he bad-mouthed your mother and needs correction. He should be ashamed of the way he talked to you. I wouldn’t even give him the lollipop tour if I were you.”

Victor had nearly lost it and never heard a word Quentin said; the only thing Victor was thinking of was his sainted mother and how Big John besmirched her good name. Big John was trying to take it back but nothing came out. His eyes were bulging and he screamed, “ORRY!” It was the best he could do, and fortunately for him it was all it took.

Victor let go and said, “Sorry for what?”

Big John was cagey and street wise. As he began to catch his breath he knew he better make the apology a good one. “I’m so sorry that I said those things about your mother. I knew they weren’t true, but I was angry and said it because I get mean when I’m angry. Please accept my apology, Officer Klemm. Another thing, I never should have spit in your face. Again; I guess I’m just plain mean. Please forgive me, you were right. I am little and I am a liar and probably a cocksucker as well. Yep! I’m a lying little cocksucker. I truly regret my actions tonight.”

A smile began to form on Victor’s face and he decided Big John wasn’t so bad after all. He felt a little sorry that he’d lost his temper but would never give that midget fuck the satisfaction of knowing as much, because in the end, Big John was nothing more than a pile of stinking garbage and a small-time crook.

“I think maybe we can forget about all this business, Shorty. You were out of line bringing up my mother. I accept your apology,” Victor said. “The best thing you can do is shut the hell up from here on out.”

Big John replied, “I certainly will do as you suggest officer. The gun you found on me was only being held for another. I’m a victim in this entire recent charade. The only reason they keep me around is for laughs.”

Victor and Quentin were near the police station and they cautioned all three of them to behave once inside because Captain Eberhart was in command and he was not to be taken lightly. Quentin said, “One time a guy cracked wise and the captain head-slammed him on the booking counter, and nothing but Chiclets were left. The guy did time in the county lockup and even paid for his own dentures. It was a splendid sight.”

The three gang members were taken to the police station and the Captain lowered his newspaper and said, “Officers, explain yourselves, what are these three sorry sons of a bitches doing here in my station house?”

Victor cleared his throat, “Captain, they’re under arrest for gun possession and one of them had marijuana. The field test confirmed it as positive. They’re gun-toting, drug-holding assholes.”

“Mind your manners, Officer Klemm. You’re well aware of my rule with regard to profanity in my station.”

Victor looked down at the floor, “Sorry.”

Captain Eberhart looked at all three of them. “You fellas affiliated with the Evil Spirits?”

Manny spoke first. “Fucking A! We’re here because your pigs trumped-up charges after stopping us for no good reason.”

Quentin did a quick eye roll. It wasn’t like he and Victor would be surprised at what occurred next. The Captain backhanded Manny so hard all three of them fell down. They toppled like a three-pin spare had just been picked up and the Captain’s hand was the sixteen-pound bowling ball. Manny was down and out for the count.

Big John said, “Please forgive us captain. Manny doesn’t speak for all of us. We were out of line and the officers did what they were supposed to do…protect the citizens from criminals; given the opportunity, I for one plan to cooperate during the booking procedure.”

Captain Eberhart glared at Big John. The Captain knew all about Big John. He said, “Very well, gentlemen, see that you comply with the entire procedure and no tricks!”

They were processed and taken to the county jail. All three of them were streetwise enough to hope that the search would be deemed unlawful. Otherwise, they’d certainly do prison time as any prior felon would expect. Big John had other things on his mind, other obligations.

When Victor and Quentin returned to the station to write their reports and catalog the evidence, the Captain approached them both. “Officers make sure this sticks; Manny and Freddie are small fish but Big John is the real article. His real name is Lawrence Matheson. I just got off the phone with the Feds, and they’re investigating Matheson for murder in several states. It appears your midget, Big John, is a mob hit man; it looks like the little guy is a rising star.”

The next day Big John bonded out and he was given a trial date. Lawrence Matheson was not bothered by his Big John nickname. He actually thought it was funny. He’d been picked on and treated badly during his youth. His grandfather was a Munchkin who played a Lollipop Kid in the
Wizard of Oz
. His parents worked in various carnivals and his father was a midget wrestler of some fame when Lawrence was born.

He didn’t see himself as a carny worker and wasn’t about to let a thing like size hold him back. He knew that there really were no bad people since the invention of gun powder. His weapon of choice was a pistol, but he had also used a sawed-off shotgun. Lawrence “Big John” Matheson was currently employed with certain factions of the Dixie Mafia, and prior to that he was doing contract killing for East Coast mobs and loving every minute of it. He was considered the best in the business and had earned over a million dollars in various freelance hits.

He joined the Evil Spirits because he was hired to kill one of their members. Had it not been for Reg’s probable cause stop and subsequent arrests, Manny Arvis would be dead by now. Lawrence “Big John” Matheson was forced to wait a little longer before taking care of Manny; he found the very thought pleasurable because of all the waiting. Big John despised the gang; they were uneducated and nothing but a bunch of louts, or so he thought.

Three months later all three of them were set to go to trial. They had public defenders assigned to their cases and if Big John had actually considered showing up at a trial he would have hired quality counsel. Two days before the trial they got together under the guise of getting their collective lies straight for the jury.

Freddie Hamilton and Manny Arvis asked Big John to meet them at a tavern in nearby Franklin. They had a few drinks together and then went for a ride so they could really talk. Freddie and Manny had already agreed to blame as much as they could on Big John, the ride and discussion was only designed to get Big John in their corner.

They were soon in a wooded area and Big John asked them to pull over. He got out of the van in the pretense of getting rid of some beer. When Manny and Freddie did the same, Big John got busy. He pulled out a pistol and shot both in their kneecaps and they fell to the ground.

“Son of a bitch,” Freddie roared. “Have you lost your mind? You’re gonna be one dead fucking midget when the Spirits find out about this shit.”

Big John walked up to Freddie and stuck the pistol in his mouth. “If I want any of your shit, I’ll pull your chain, asshole.” He jerked the trigger and took off half of Freddie’s head. Wet brain matter sprayed the side of the van and Manny began to beg for his sorry life.

“Don’t do this Big John. I’ll do anything you want. Please don’t kill me,” Manny said.

Big John walked up to him. “You cretin! You were dead the day I arrived in Riverside. This is for the Dixie Mob you double crossed.”