Cockeyed

by Richard Stevenson

  But you’re sure you don’t want to tell the Brienings to just shove it and let the chips fall where they may? The DA is unlikely to go after an old lady in a nursing home with a failing memory.”

  “No, but it’s people’s opinions. All the other Van Horns besides myself have always been respectable. Respectability sucks as far as I am concerned. I’d rather not be — what did Quentin call it? — some boring old assimilationist. But people should get to choose for themselves. I got to choose who I got to be, and Miriam and Nelson and Lewis and even Yawn should also get to choose who they want to be. It’s only fair.”

  “Hunny, you are a kind man,” Art said. “Even to your relatives.”

  “So,” Hunny said, “here’s what I would like to do, Donald.

  Please accompany me tomorrow morning out to Cobleskill. Let’s see if the evil Brienings will take nine hundred million. That would leave me with enough to give a million each to thirty or forty of the nice folks out at the warehouse — not including Dave DeCarlo — and also pay off Stu Hood his thousand and even Mason Doebler his thousand. Plus put the twins through medical school, and replace the tires on the Explorer, and a few other odds and ends. And if the Brienings won’t accept that deal, then fuck ‘em — they can have the whole billion. Just so they give back Mom’s confession and promise in writing never to bother her or me again. And I would go back to work at BJ’s, and I would see if I can get my pretty darn good life back the way it was before the skies opened up and started raining shit.”

  Art said, “Instead of men.”

  There was a long, sad silence.

  “I’m so sorry, Hunny,” I said, “that I was so little help to you.”

  “Oh, you’ve been a godsend, Donald, in so many ways.

  Except for one little thing you don’t seem to be willing to go along with, even in return for your fat fee.”

  “Well, I’m glad I haven’t been a total disappointment.”

  196 Richard Stevenson

  “I think you need a drink.”

  “I don’t care for the hard stuff. I just never developed a taste for it. But I wouldn’t mind a beer and sitting out on the front porch with the security guys for a while and relaxing. It’s such a nice night out.”

  Art brought some cold beer up from the old fridge they kept in the cellar, and we went out with Marylou and the twins and sat on the porch steps and watched the bugs throw themselves maniacally against the streetlights.

  ChAPteR twenty-nine

  I thought I heard drumming but soon realized it was someone banging on the door of Hunny and Art’s guest room. I had locked the door and gone to sleep instantly after two bottles of Sam Adams, but now it was six twenty Wednesday morning and Hunny was pounding on the door yelling, “Donald! Donald, girl, wake up!”

  “Huh? Coming.”

  “It’s Mom! They found Mom, and we’re going to drive up and get her.”

  “Oh, good. Where is she?” I yanked some pants on and opened the door.

  “She’s at the Super 8 in Lake George. With Tex Clermont, just like you said. And that Mexican.”

  “Great.”

  Hunny was in his boxers and sleeveless undershirt and was red-eyed but animated. He said, “One of Tom In Paine’s people nailed her and called the cops, so I guess we can’t hate Bill O’Malley and those terrible tea-baggers too much.”

  “I guess not. Is coffee made? I’ll be down in a minute.”

  “There’s one other thing though, Donald.” Hunny lowered his eyes and his head got a little wobbly.

  “Is your mother all right?”

  “Yes, it’s not Mom. That Albany police detective called. He wants to talk to me. To you, too. He’s coming over, so we have to get out of here before he gets here. I just want to hug Mom before I have to deal with anything else.”

  “What’s the problem now? Is it the Brienings?”

  Hunny looked at me queasily. “Yes and no.”

  “So, what happened?”

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  “Crafts-a-Palooza burned down overnight.”

  “Oh. Oh my.”

  “The TV news says the police think it was arson.”

  “Oh.”

  “The whole mall went up in smoke and is totally destroyed.

  Subway too. Though they think it started at Crafts-a-Palooza.

  Both in the front and back.”

  “Right. Was anybody hurt?”

  “No. A fireman got scratched or something.”

  “At least there were no injuries or deaths. The Brienings weren’t in there, were they?”

  “No, they were at home.”

  “Well, at least there’s that.”

  “Are you thinking what I am thinking, Donald?”

  “Sure.”

  “Will we have to tell the police?”

  “I think so.”

  “I hate to. Stu is just a fucked-up kid.”

  “I know, but he could kill people again.”

  “I almost wish the Brienings were in there. I thought of what their little charred corpses would look like. But then I felt ashamed.”

  “I guess now they’ll really be on the rampage. But we’ll deal with them. The important thing is that your mom is okay. Let me get dressed and then we’ll head up to Lake George. Is your mother in police custody?”

  “Yes, her and Tex and Herero. Can I just have a hug before you put your shirt on?”

  I hugged Hunny and kissed him lightly on the nape of the neck. Then he turned and clomped down the stairs and I headed into the bathroom.

  § § § § §

  CoCkeyed 199

  During the hour-plus ride up to Lake George, my cell phone rang four times. One call was from Timmy, who asked if I had heard the news. I said I sure had. The three other calls were form Lieutenant Card Sanders, and I didn’t answer those. The messages he left, each one in a more urgent tone than the last, demanded that I contact him immediately. Poor guy. Dealing with celebrities could be such a hassle.

  Hunny had spoken with Nelson, who was also en route to Lake George, and with his sister Miriam, who was terrified that the Brienings might not wait to be paid off but might just call the DA and announce to the world that Mrs. Van Horn was a

  “lowlife.”

  Art said, “Maybe you could get Stu Hood to burn your sister’s house down, Hunny. With her in it.”

  “Artie, luv, don’t say that. Miriam is a bitch, but she is family.”

  “I’m so glad I am an only child. Mom and Dad had me, and I guess then they said maybe we could do better, but let’s not press our luck.”

  Hunny had learned from Nelson that the renegade oldsters and their pal Herero were at the Lake George police station, and my GPS led us there directly. An old Dodge Dart with Texas tags was parked out front next to two police cruisers, and Hunny said,

  “That clunker must belong to the Mexican.”

  We were led into a small conference room that smelled of stale coffee, and no more than a minute after we were seated there was a commotion in the corridor and two uniformed officers led an older, wrinklier, female version of Hunny into the room.

  The cops politely went out and closed the door behind them as Hunny leaped to his feet and yelled, “Mom! Mom!” and grabbed the old lady and kissed her on one cheek and then the other cheek and then the first one again.

  “Oh, Huntington, what a surprise this is! I’m having such a fabulous time, Hunny, and it’s so nice that you and Arthur could pop in and share it with us. We’ve been having soooo much fun! I never thought I would have this much fun again — stuck in that 200 Richard Stevenson

  stinky old home — but Tex and Herero rescued my bored-to-tears old bones for this little vacation from old age, bless their hearts.”

  Mrs. Van Horn was gotten up in a chic box-seat-at-Saratoga outfit, beige silk slacks and top, pearl earrings and a Texas-style big-hair do that in no way resembled the old-lady perm in her photos. The hair-do may have been the reason no one recognized her b
efore Tom In Paine’s snitch zeroed in on the Golden Gardens runaway.

  “But Mother Van Horn,” Art said, “Hunny was so worried about you, and so was everyone else.”

  “Mom, folks have been looking high and low for you. You didn’t tell Mrs. Kerisiotis you were leaving, and everybody has been scouring the countryside looking for your corpse. Mom, you have given us all a terrible scare, you little dickens, you!”

  “Oh, Lord, did I forget to call Golden Gardens and say I’d be away for a few days? It must have slipped my mind. You know how forgetful I’ve gotten. Oh, for heaven’s sakes, I do apologize if I caused any bother.”

  “But didn’t you see yourself on TV? It’s been all over the news that you were a missing person.”

  “Oh, I guess we weren’t watching that channel. Tex and I watch qvC. I don’t know why Herero didn’t see that. He watches the news, plus Mtv and boxing. Hunny, you know I never liked looking at the news. It is so depressing. I like The Golden Girls and shopping. I don’t buy, just look, for the most part. But Tex got some nice jewelry, some fling for Herero and a couple of nice things for me, what I’ve got on. I forgot to bring clothes, you know. Tex had things sent overnight right to the Super 8 were we were staying in our very nice room.”

  “I think you mean bling,” Hunny said. “Now, Antoine and the twins and this psychic from Vermont looked for you at the Super 8, but they didn’t see you anywhere.”

  “I guess we were out sightseeing, maybe riding around on the paddle boat. Or over at that nice restaurant with the stuffed CoCkeyed 201

  haddock.”

  “Where are Tex and her friend now?”

  “Tex is in the lady’s. She’ll be crawling down here in a minute or so. Herero must be waiting for her. He is so good to Eileen.

  It’s not easy for her with her walker at the track, but Herero got her a wheelchair to get us from the parking lot to our seats, and he went and placed our bets.”

  “What track? Saratoga?”

  “You know, Hunny, Nola Conklin had her TV on last week and there was this announcer saying the races were going on, and I got to missing the track. I did used to love the ponies. So when Tex called, I just said, why don’t you ride up here with that nice young aide who wants to marry you, and we’ll have a few cocktails and a nice time for a week or so, and then we’ll go back to rotting away in our old folks homes. Well, Tex just leaped at the opportunity. Tex has her daughter down there, but she never comes to see her, not like Hunny. Nola told me you had won a lot of money in the lottery, Hunny, so I figured I could hit you up for a tenner if need be. But I never wanted to be a burden, and I don’t intend to be. Anyhow, Eileen is well fixed. She is an extremely generous friend.”

  “Oh, Mom, that whole lottery thing has turned out to be a total pain in the butt.” Hunny introduced me and said, “Donald is a private detective who has been helping me deal with all kinds of shkeevy types that have crawled out of the woodwork since I won a billion dollars. Blackmailers, swindlers, what have you.

  Even the you-know-whos in Cobleskill are bedeviling me and trying to get hold of my money. Mom, I was better off middle-class, believe you me. Anyway, if I have any money left after all the headaches have been cleared up, I’ll give you a million dollars.

  Or ten million, whatever you need.”

  “Thanks, Hunny. You have always been such a good son. I have enough for my needs, but you could help Herero if you feel like it. He saw on the news in Texas about your prize. He’s afraid his muffler is going — it does make quite a racket — plus he has some lawyer bills for something. His papers, I think.”

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  “Is he nice? He sounds nice.”

  “Herero is very sweet. And I think he might be…you know.”

  Mrs. Van Horn flapped her wrist once.

  “Well, I am putting Herero down for a mil. Not to worry.

  But…well, there is a problem, maybe, with the money. The you-know-whos in Cobleskill are demanding a billion to pay them to continue to keep their mouths shut about you-know-what.”

  Mrs. Van Horn glanced over her shoulder at the closed door.

  Through the glass we could see one of the cops standing in the corridor. She said, “You know, they sent me another threatening letter. At Golden Gardens.”

  “I do know that. And guess what? Now they’re probably even madder than ever at you and me. Last night their store burned down.”

  “Oh, good heavens!”

  “It’s a smoking ruin, television said.”

  “Maybe my you-know-what letter burned up. But probably not. I think they kept it in the lockbox with the other books and the other money.”

  I asked, “What other books and what other money, Mrs. Van Horn?”

  She gave me a wary look, but Hunny said, “Mom, Donald knows all about everything. He is an understanding man with a Christian soul who is one hundred percent on our side. I’m thinking of giving him thirty million dollars as a bonus if everything turns out okay. So you can tell him anything.”

  “Well,” she said, “it’s the second set of books Clyde and Arletta keep for Crafts-a-Palooza that the tax people aren’t meant to get a gander at. And the cash they skim off at the end of the day. That’s how I was able to help myself when I went through that crazy spell after Carl passed. They had about a million and a half in there, and if I had a bad day at the track I would just help myself once in a while. Except, Arletta got suspicious, I think, when I told her I was betting the house on a horse called CoCkeyed 203

  Epworth Lady and that nag didn’t even show, and the next day I was right back at the track. She counted the money, and she nailed me. It was my terrible downfall that we’ve all been paying for ever since, and I admit that I did wrong and my comeuppance was earned.”

  Art said, “The Brienings are also crooks, it sounds like. Holy crap.”

  “But Mom,” Hunny said, “if they were blackmailing you, why didn’t you blackmail them right back? Good grief, it sounds like they are even bigger miscreants than you are.”

  “I thought about that. And I did finally get up my nerve to say something. But Arletta said that what they were doing is what everybody does, and what I did was stealing.”

  “Oh, Mom, you got taken for a ride. We all did. Those Brienings are nothing but scum.”

  “Where is the lockbox located?” I asked. “The box with the confession, the second set of books and the large stash of currency?”

  “The lockbox was always buried under some potpourri. It’s at the bottom of a big crate called Elvira’s Herbal Kisses.”

  I glanced at Hunny, who caught my look, and then I excused myself and walked out into the corridor, past the waiting Lake George officer, and out to my car. I phoned Card Sanders, and before he started in on me, I explained a few things to him and urged him to get hold of the state fire marshal’s office immediately. He listened with care, heard what I said, and agreed to make some fast calls and then get himself over to Cobleskill to help search for the lockbox.

  Sanders said, “I’m relieved to see that Mr. Van Horn is likely to come out of all this with both his fortune and his reputation intact. Unless, that is, it was Huntington himself or somebody he hired who set the fire at Crafts-a-Palooza. That would put a much darker slant on the situation.”

  “Yeah, well, we can talk about that. I have some information about the fire that you’ll be greatly interested to hear, Lieutenant.”

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  I gave him a quick rundown on Stu Hood, and how Hood had both a history of arson and a powerful personal interest in not letting the Brienings take away all of Hunny’s lottery winnings. I told Sanders where he could probably find Hood after the place opened in the early afternoon, and then I rang off and walked back inside the police station.

  Tex Clermont and Herero Flores were in the conference room now with Hunny, Art and Rita, and everyone was chatting away and guffawing, and wrists were flapping, and I came in just as Hunny yelled at Herero,
“You go, girl!”

  Herero, short and pleasantly round-faced with a fuzzy little goatee, shrieked and said, “And you wouldn’t believe the tat on this lifeguard I met at the beach down from the motel!”

  “Not Sean Shea!”

  “Yes, he said he knows you and he said maybe you gonna give him a million dollars, just like you gonna give me!”

  “Sure, why not!” Hunny sang out.

  “Oh, I just knew this would all work out,” Tex Clermont said grinning. “I knew y’all would just hit it off like y’all was old bosom buddies, just like Rita and yours truly.” Draped over a folding chair, her walker parked next to her, Tex was a good six feet tall, with shining blue eyes, eight pounds of rouge, and a heap of hair like the fake Sarah Palin’s at the Cobleskill book party.

  Hunny said, “I don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow, but I have to tell you this. Today is the happiest day of my life. To have my beloved mom back with me and to see her wonderful old friend and to meet her fabulous new friend is just the banana split with the cherry on top. I am blessed, and we are all blessed.

  And now why don’t we all go somewhere where we can count our blessings and…have a few celebrationary cocktails!”

  Everyone in the room shrieked except me, although I had to smile too. The cop outside in the hall turned and looked through the glass at us, and he also looked pleased with the way things were turning out.

  ChAPteR thiRty

  The Lake George police were too smart to swallow any of the “reality show hoax” guff that the tea-baggers were spreading.

  The cops bought Mrs. Van Horn’s unlikely but true story that she and her pals were just off having a break from nursing home life. They said they would notify both Golden Gardens and Tex Clermont’s assisted living facility in Houston that the ladies would be back in a matter of days and “the gals” would get in touch themselves when their plans were clearer.

  Nelson and Lawn soon arrived in Lake George, and they joined us for lunch at Joey and Bernie’s Take-a-Peek Inn, the place with the good stuffed haddock.