Kid Carolina

by Heidi Schnakenberg

  “I’m going to the bar,” he said.

  “What? Where?” Muriel asked.

  “Whatever’s open.” Dick walked out and shut the door.

  Muriel was stunned. What on earth was he doing? What if he injured himself? Surely he was kidding and would return at once. But he didn’t. Muriel didn’t know it yet, but she was in for a marriage full of nights just like this.

  She scrambled to dress herself again and asked the hotel manager where the nearest open bar was located. She got the directions and went searching for Dick. He was already well out of sight, but Muriel eventually found the bar and walked in to find him drinking with some townspeople, happy as ever. The beverage was a raw local brandy. Dick looked horrible, but he was having a great time.

  Muriel sauntered up to an amused Dick and took out her favorite gold lighter to fire up a cigarette and calm her nerves. Dick grabbed the lighter from her hand and offered it to one of the men sitting next to him. Dick was testing her patience and she knew it. Muriel begged the owner to close down the bar and divulged that Dick was too ill to be drinking so much. Twenty minutes later, the owner shut down while Dick picked up the tab for every last person in the bar. Muriel dragged Dick, now feeling as bad as he looked, back to the hotel. To her relief, he passed out.

  Dick was terrifyingly sick later that night, vomiting repeatedly in the bidet as the room rattled with the noise of passing trains. Muriel barely slept. The next day, she asked the manager if they could change rooms, and he switched them to the nearest thing he had that resembled a suite, but there was still no bathroom. Since they were in for more vomiting, Muriel hoped she could bribe hotel staff to clean up the mess if necessary. They were still exposed to the noise of trucks, traffic, and trains, and dust and dirt seemed to be everywhere in the small city square below.

  Muriel ran out the next day to a local market to buy food, even though Dick still couldn’t keep anything down. Pollard waited outside all day for them, from ten in the morning until four in the afternoon, when Muriel finally went out to tell him to take the day off.

  Still green-faced, Dick showed no signs of recovery. They were in for more time at the Hôtel du Nord, which made Muriel think of one of those “terrible French movies where people are murdered invariably at the Hôtel du Nord.” As Dick begged for forgiveness for his behavior the night before, Muriel squeezed oranges for him, kept cold compresses on his head, and did everything she could to ease his pain.

  After two days, Dick was finally able to move on. As always, his recovery was as dramatic as his descent. They skipped their Paris plans and flew to the Netherlands, where they traveled far north to the small beach town of Noordwijk Aan Zee, while Pollard would meet them later in the car.

  The North Sea coast was a peaceful contrast to the bustling shores of the French Riviera, but Dick and Muriel found it desolate, and with stuffy company. They hung around for six days in utter boredom and finally called for Pollard to pick them up.

  Pollard drove them around Holland, and they marveled at the Dutch spring flower gardens on display. They toured Leiden and heard that Prince Bernhard was lunching at a restaurant in town. Pollard drove them straight there. The prince sat with a group of men and Dick and Muriel ogled them as they ate from their canal-view table. They watched great barges full of tulips, each one filled with a different color, float by.

  Dick and Muriel quickly dispatched to the Nederlandic countryside, which they traversed from one end to the other in a matter of hours. They finished their trip with a gastronomic sampling tour of Amsterdam.

  Muriel got so comfortable in Holland that she daydreamed about living there indefinitely. Dick interrupted her fantasy abruptly one day with another fit of paranoia and insisted they move again. He suggested Basel, Switzerland.

  Dick took Muriel to meet his two Swiss friends, Ellie and Alfonse, who lived in an elegant, art-filled apartment overlooking Basel’s central square. Dick had met the couple years earlier with Marianne, when he took her and the kids to Gstaad. Ellie was a hostess at a bar and Ellie’s friendship with Dick had evolved when Dick didn’t want to leave the bar one night, and Marianne had given up on him and gone to bed. Ellie stayed up with Dick the rest of the night, talking until six in the morning. Muriel could immediately imagine the scene: Dick, on one of his typical drinking binges, picking up another buddy. Also in his typical fashion, Dick gave Ellie and her boyfriend $10,000 so they could start a fur business.

  Now here they were, entertaining Dick with Marianne’s replacement. They were the first people Muriel met who knew Marianne, and she was surprised to find that Ellie liked her. Ellie said that Marianne appreciated Ellie’s keeping Dick company all night so she could get some rest.

  For the first time, Muriel felt compassion for Marianne. She’d already had a taste of these difficult nights with Dick, and she could understand what Marianne must have gone through.

  After a few days in Basel, Dick surprised Muriel and told her that he was going to set up a trust fund for her, worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. The trust would give Muriel a modest income in case anything should happen to him, and upon her death, the income would go to his two oldest sons. Dick explained that his oldest sons’ inheritance had fallen below that of the younger two, because of the way the money had been invested. Dick was very careful to make sure all his children had equal sums, and he was always thinking of their future. The trust was a way to set up some of that money for them in advance, while protecting Muriel at the same time. Dick set up the trust from Basel.

  It all sounded fine to Muriel, but she made a grave mistake—she told her mother about it.

  Eleanor was one of the most money-obsessed people in Muriel’s life, and she always managed to find a way to get money out of Muriel and Muriel’s husbands. She did it with Richard Greenough, and also with Muriel’s first husband, Harold Allison Laurence. Eleanor saw Muriel as her meal ticket, and it was no secret that she was very pleased that her daughter was spending so much time with R. J. Reynolds Jr. She hoped Muriel wouldn’t blow it before they got married. In the meantime, Eleanor was on her best behavior while the courtship progressed.

  When Muriel told her mother about the trust, she retorted, “Here you are, prepared to receive hundreds of thousands of dollars, and you’ve not once considered your dear mother? Do I mean so little to you? Have I not done everything in my power to be a good mother to you?” Eleanor laid it on thick. As always, Muriel was racked with guilt.

  Muriel reluctantly went back to Dick. Taking cues from her mother, she wove a manipulative argument. “Because of the way we’re traveling… and because of your illnesses, I’m afraid something could happen to both of us. Not just you. Wouldn’t it be nice if we set up a trust so my mother could be provided for in case anything happens to us?”

  Dick gave it some thought, and eventually agreed to add Eleanor. Although Muriel didn’t admit it, Dick could tell that Eleanor was a problem for Muriel, and he didn’t want to see her go through the stress of her mother’s incessant demands. Dick amended the trust so that Eleanor could have half of it if she outlived Muriel.

  After a few nights in Basel, Ellie and Alfonse suggested they all go to Interlaken and stay in a local inn run by friends of theirs. Dick and Muriel drove there in the car with Pollard, trailing Ellie and Alfonse, through perfect scenery and warm May weather. The melting snow in the Alps gave way to green pine trees and plants at the base of the mountains. When they arrived in Interlaken, a festive local fair was in full swing to kick off the year’s cheese-making season. Cows were decorated with flowers and bells, and the villagers were dressed in traditional local costumes. The two couples watched the scene over lunch and local wine in the village square.

  Dick and Muriel checked into their rooms at the inn as M. Camembert and Mme. Roquefort, giggling as they filled out the log. That evening, the four of them had dinner on the inn’s lakeside terrace and watched night fall, while guitarists and pianists played under the moonlight below. The scene w
as nothing short of idyllic. Even Pollard found friends among some other English speakers in the village.

  A few days later, Ellie and Alfonse left them to go back to Basel. Not moments after they left, another roller-coaster drinking rampage began at the inn’s bar. After Dick closed down the place, he went back to the hotel room and consumed every colorful vial of liquor in their minibar. His drinking marathon was followed by the usual vomiting and forty-eight hours of bed rest, followed by docile apologies and contrition. Muriel kept telling herself that Dick continued to be under too much stress and occasionally needed these outlets of drinking to relieve the tension. After he got sick, he usually slept for two days straight, and Muriel noticed it was the only time he slept peacefully.

  Muriel told herself, It will all work itself out when we get married.

  Once Dick bounced back, they traveled to Zurich, where Dick heard that there was still controversy over the 1948 IRS rulings, but that it was unlikely he would be called to testify. He was also informed by his lawyers that the divorce was still poking along. Marianne wanted a larger settlement than the one Dick offered. Dick warned her she would risk getting no money at all because of Rubirosa. Nothing worked. Dick’s frustration rubbed off on Muriel.

  At Marianne’s

  Marianne O’Brien, the luscious redhead who was the object of so much spite from Dick, struggled with taking care of her two small boys at One Beekman Place. She was furious and saddened by the way Dick was treating her and the horrible things he accused her of in the divorce action. He even went so far as to accuse her of being a poor mother and a drunk. That is laughable, coming from the world’s most notorious drunken heir, Marianne thought. She deeply regretted the affair with Rubirosa, but she couldn’t deny that she needed the affection. Dick’s constant drunken tirades and increasing illness over the years had left her a lonely woman. She was starved for the kind of attention Rubirosa showered upon her. He made her feel beautiful and special—something she hadn’t felt in ages.

  Dick had already left her to deal with Patrick’s polio, all on her own, and had made no effort to see him when he was in the hospital. Thankfully, Patrick was only there for six weeks and it hadn’t been worse. Her relentless attempts to find Dick, even with the help of private investigators, had more to do with Patrick than anything else, but Dick continued to evade her. Now she was receiving peculiar, anonymous letters in the mail from someone signed “Danger Jones” and “BW.” The letters ridiculed her, informed her that she was the laughingstock of New York, and advised that if she wanted to preserve her dignity, she’d better settle with Dick immediately. Marianne wasn’t sure who the letters were from, but she heard through the grapevine that Dick was seeing someone in Europe, and she suspected they had come from his lover. The insults in the letter included common accusations Dick made toward her. It made her sick to think that Dick was having an affair, in spite of her own very public infidelity. She was determined to catch Dick in the act in order to level the playing field and get every dime she possibly could out of him. She needed to, for the sake of Patrick and Michael. If that didn’t work, she wanted more money—$2 million at least, as well as One Beekman Place, which was worth $350,000 at the time, and their home in Miami. And she wouldn’t stop fighting until she got what she wanted.

  CHAPTER 13

  Le Divorce

  1952

  Dick and Muriel returned to England so Dick could monitor the Aries again. His son Josh wanted to meet up with him because he was finishing a European excursion of his own. Dick offered to let Josh stay at Grosvenor Square for the month of June, which Muriel didn’t mind at all. She thought Josh was sweet and they had a good relationship—unlike his unpredictable relationship with Dick. Muriel was in the mood to spoil him.

  “Let’s take Josh to the best tailors in London. Let’s go to Cork Street,” said Muriel.

  She bought him a complete, custom-made wardrobe over the course of the next month, including several suits, shoes, coats, and hats from Lock & Co. Hatters.

  Muriel hoped to set Josh up with a nice British girl while he was in town as well. She put the word out that Dick’s son was in town for the summer, and many candidates streamed through their doors over the course of the month.

  Josh liked Muriel and repeatedly mentioned that his father seemed more relaxed with her than with anyone else. He told her that his father and mother fought badly during their relationship, and that Blitz couldn’t stand it when Dick got drunk. Josh confessed that he’d been worried about his father ever since he was a child and he saw him drink on their family estate, Devotion. Their home was often a party palace in Winston-Salem and Josh grew up with hundreds of people getting hopelessly drunk in his house. He lamented that he and his brothers felt responsible for their parents’ unhappiness. Blitz was desperately upset after the divorce, and she later became a heavy drinker herself.

  Muriel’s heart went out to Josh. She continued to accompany him around the city while Dick stayed in bed and rested, and generally ignored him. The two of them developed a friendship that lasted for many years to come.

  By July, it was time for Dick to fly back to America to attend to the divorce. Marianne was prepared to settle—Dick had agreed to give her the apartment in Manhattan and their home on Sunset Island, Florida, as well as the $2 million. Josh took a liner back to America on his own and Muriel stayed in London until she received word from Dick.

  Meanwhile, unsubstantiated rumors persisted in America that Dick had left Muriel and was now courting his ex-wife, Blitz. It was probably another clever smoke screen of Dick’s to prevent Marianne or anyone else from finding out his intentions to marry Muriel as soon as possible.

  Holy Matrimony, August 1952

  Finally Muriel got the call she was waiting for: The divorce would soon be finalized and it was time for Muriel to join Dick in Montreal.

  Dick treated his premarriage arrangements the way he did any business. When Muriel arrived in Montreal, they went to the Bank of Montreal to meet the president and discuss the irrevocable trust Dick had set up for Muriel and her mother, and sign the final papers. The trust would deed ten thousand shares of RJR Tobacco, for a total of $100,000, and Muriel and her mother would receive the income from it for their lifetimes. The trust would be held in Winnipeg for tax purposes. Dick had also asked the bank to arrange for a prenuptial agreement, but he would present that to Muriel later. After losing a small fortune to Blitz and Marianne, he wasn’t taking any chances.

  From there, they took a train to New York, where they would change trains to go to Sapelo and get married on the island as soon as the divorce went through. Dick then took Muriel to obtain Wasserman tests (a test for syphilis required in those days before they could be issued a marriage license) so nothing could hold up their wedding plans when the time came. Muriel brought out a white lace dress for their wedding that she had bought when they were in Mexico in the earlier part of the year.

  Finally, after a year of running, hiding, and waiting, Dick was officially divorced from Marianne on August 7, 1952. Marianne got everything she asked for, including custody of Patrick and Michael, the two homes, and two 1952 Cadillacs as well. Muriel could hardly believe it. Her dreams were about to come true.

  On the morning of August 8, 1952, Dick and his attorneys, Frank Wells of New York, Paul Varner of Georgia, and Strat Coyner, arrived on Sapelo Island. Dick announced that he and Muriel would get married in the garden that night at nine o’clock.

  Muriel pulled out her Mexican-made wedding dress. Dick’s pastry chef, Karl Weiss, made a wedding cake for them, and Dick called a local Methodist preacher from Darien, Rev. Gordon C. King, to stand by. The garden in front of South End House twinkled with lights that dangled from the columns and the wisteria trees, now in full bloom and saturated with color. Inside, the main hall and dining room had been cleaned and decorated for the wedding reception. Dick and Muriel picked out an oak tree by the swimming pool that would serve as their ‘altar’ and made a pact to be buri
ed there together when they passed into the next life.

  But there was business to attend to before the festivities began. A few hours before their preceremonial dinner in the Azalea Cottage, Dick pulled Muriel aside for what she thought would be a romantic private moment between them. Instead, without warning, he produced the prenuptial agreement he had prepared. The agreement limited the amount of money Muriel could take from him if they ever got divorced and waived Muriel’s right to anything more from Dick than the trusts he had already set up and about $100,000 worth of jewelry that he had already given her. Dick also presented her with a gift of $10,000.

  Once she recovered from the surprise of the prenup, Muriel countered with one of her own. She would sign Dick’s papers if he signed something for her. Muriel explained that she thought a lot about Dick’s drinking in the time she’d known him and it was her opinion that liquor was seriously affecting his health. She asked him to refrain from drinking hard liquor to ensure his health and their happiness. Muriel asked Strat to draw up the agreement right then and there. It included a clause that if Dick broke the agreement, he would have to pay Muriel $15,000, and his prenuptial agreement would be null and void. Dick seemed amused and treated Muriel’s prenup the same way he treated the dance contract with Johanna Rischke and the Sapelo deed with Marianne: He didn’t take it seriously for a moment.