Chronicles Of An Academic Predator - 38. Chapter 38

April 19, 1963

 

I stood outside of the church with Tonto and Jeff, waiting for the First Lady to arrive. My father and Barry were there, as was Stefan. Janice stood to the back with her children. She still wasn't quite right yet. I was beginning to wonder if she ever would be. The church was already full of the town's dignitaries, along with people who had known Billy. Then I heard the sirens in the distance, the sounds getting closer and closer, until the Police escort appeared at the top of the street.

 

They blew past and the big black Lincoln limousine came lumbering up to the church. The secret service men were already here and in position, but there was another one that jumped out of the front seat to open the door. The door opened and there she was, Mrs. Kennedy, regal, svelte, classy, and beautiful, all those adjectives were not enough to describe her. Tonto and I stepped forward to greet her. I heard Tonto mumbling something, and heard Mrs. Kennedy consoling her. I spotted my mother exit the limousine and take her place next to the First Lady.

 

“Mrs. Kennedy, this is my son, John Paul” She introduced me in French, and pronounced my name in the French manner as well.

 

I held out my hand. “It's a pleasure to meet you Mrs. Kennedy,” I said in French. She raised her eyebrows.

 

“A pleasure for me as well. What a wonderful opportunity for me to practice my French.” She was pleasantly surprised when both Jeff and Stefan spoke French as well. Then the poor woman was shuffled through meeting all of us who had gathered outside the Church. We went in, procession format, and found our seats easily since I had rehearsed this with everyone already.

 

The service went off without a hitch. There were three speakers. Tonto, who thanked everyone for coming and broke down in tears several times during her brief chat. Then Mrs. Kennedy spoke, emphasizing the importance of the military in safeguarding our freedom, and how we owed a permanent debt to the patriots like Billy that made the ultimate sacrifice. It seemed canned to me, but I think most of the people in the crowd were fooled and just enjoyed having her here. Then I finished up, talking about my childhood with Billy, some anecdotes from our past, and his successes in life. I made a point to highlight some of the teachers and coaches who had been important to him, people who I'd made sure got to be there. The songs, the minister's words, the prayers, they all seemed to fly over me without meaning. And then it was over.

 

My mother had to head home to organize the reception, so it fell to me to escort Mrs. Kennedy back to her plane. She was unable to make it to the reception, but she did spend some time schmoozing with the local dignitaries. I made sure the teachers and coaches I mentioned got to meet her.

 

We climbed into the limousine and she smiled at me. “You spoke very eloquently Monsieur. I understand you planned most of the service?”

 

“Yes Madame, my aunt had other things to deal with as you might imagine.”

 

“She is a strong woman. What a sacrifice, to lose both of her sons.”

 

“She is a strong woman,” I agreed. “And she will press on. It is her daughter-in-law that concerns me more.”

 

“Yes. How terrible to have young children and lose your husband. But she has a good family to watch out for her.” I nodded and smiled.

 

“Your name has been mentioned at the White House recently,” she said.

 

“Indeed Madame? I can't imagine why?” This was shocking. My name? I was a nobody.

 

“It seems you have been doing some research on Southeast Asia and have come to some relatively negative conclusions.” She said, still smiling.

 

“I hope I have not caused your husband any problems,” I said. “Vietnam was a quagmire for the French, and looks to be the same for us.”

 

“There are those in the Administration who do not agree with you,” she said.

 

“But I am right,” I said with a smile, and that made her laugh, a glorious, charming laugh. And just as it started, we arrived at the airport.

 

I hurriedly got out offering her my hand to assist her. “Madame, it has been a pleasure and an honor to spend time with you. You have a reputation for considerable charm, poise, and style, but it does not do you justice.”

 

“Why monsieur,” she said coyly, “you have mastered the French art of flattery.” Then she shook my hand, boarded the plane, and they were off. There was another limousine waiting to shuttle me back to the Heights for the reception.

 

It let me off in front of our house, making me feel like a real hot shot. I laughed at myself. Here I chatted with the First Lady and found out that they were irritated with my paper, and I think I'm Mr. Important.

 

I walked up to our front door feeling guilty. With the exception of my address at the service, I really hadn't thought much about Billy today. The whirlwind of the service, the planning, meeting the First Lady, all of those things had taken away from the horrible event that we were commemorating. I felt profoundly sad as I walked inside.

 

Unfortunately, I'd manage to depress myself just as I entered a “party”, such as it was. So I bucked up my demeanor and made the rounds. I found some of Billy's friends and the teachers and coaches I'd invited off in a corner, seemingly out of place. I grabbed my mother and Jeff and between the three of us we managed to integrate them into the reception. Janice had locked herself in my father's study, while the Negro maid, her name was Sally, kept tabs on the kids. Jeff broke away from the crowd after a bit to play with them. I admired his ability to bond with them, to play with them, to stop their tears when they cried. He'd make such a good daddy. It was a shame he'd never be one as long as he was with me. He seemed to sense me watching him and he looked over at me and sent that million dollar smile of his beaming at me. That's all it took to erase all my doubts and fears about us.

 

Fortunately, since it had been a mid-morning ceremony, the reception coincided with lunch. That was good news because that sort of defined an ending point. Guests started leaving around 1PM, and the stragglers were all out the door by 2:30PM. We sat there in the living room, looking at the mess around us, in a state of social exhaustion. My father had left at 2:30 with the stragglers, anxious to head back to the office, with Jim right behind him, while Jeff and Stefan rushed back to school to catch the last few periods. Or so they said. Jason hadn't shown up, which was disturbing since he had Jeff's car. It wasn't like him to not come to an event once he had committed to it. So that left my mother, Tonto, and me.

 

“I think I'll have to leave tomorrow morning,” I said to them, and got disapproving looks from Tonto and my mother. “Jason didn't show up and hasn't answered the phone, so I'll need to drive back with Jeff so he can get his car and bring it back.” They yielded to the inevitable.

 

I escaped to my room and to the precious solitude it offered. In no time I dozed off, only to be awakened when someone jumped, full force, on top of me, damn near bouncing me out of the bed.

 

“Asshole,” I said, looking up at Jeff. I couldn't help but smile at him. He was so cute when he was playful.

 

“You love me,” he said.

 

“True. Hey, Jason never showed up.” I said, still waking up.

 

“Yeah, what's with that? Where's my car?”

 

“Presumably it's still in Chicago. So I was thinking that maybe we could leave tomorrow and head back to the city, and then you could drive back on Sunday.” That seemed logical to me, but he had a disturbed look on his face.

 

“JP, I can't leave. The Prom is tomorrow night.” Shit. So much for that plan.

 

“What and you're not taking me?” I said, feigning offense.

 

“Yeah, that would really go over well, don't you think?” he said, laughing.

 

“Alright,” I relented. “I'll fly home and you can drive out next weekend. Or do you have another date then too?”

 

“No, I'm all yours next weekend.” He leaned in and kissed me.

 

“You better be. And I'll need a ride to Columbus tomorrow to catch the plane,” I said.

 

“Alright, I can do that if you can go early enough. Anything else?”

“Yeah, I need your dick in my ass, right now.” He started laughing, and we made love again. I was amazed at how it never got old, never got stale. It was always great, and sometimes it was incredible.

 

We'd worked up quite a sweat so I took a shower and changed before dinner. I was in my room packing up my stuff when there was a knock on my door. I opened it to find my Dad standing there.

 

“Hi Dad,” I said cheerfully. “Come on in!” I surreptitiously sniffed the air to make sure it didn't smell too much like sex.

 

“I heard you're leaving in the morning,” he said glumly.

 

“Yeah. I need to get back and for some reason Jason didn't show up, so I have to catch a flight.”

 

“I wish you could stay longer,” he said. I smiled at him, a big smile.

 

“You know Dad, for the first time in a long time, I do too.”

 

“JP, you know I'm not good at expressing my emotions. I think you inherited that trait from me. But what you did, coming to my office like that, you acted like a man, an honorable man. I was wrong to treat you like I did. I do love you, and I am so very proud of you.” I saw a tear actually fall down his cheek.

 

“Thanks Dad. Thank you so much. I hoped so much that we could repair our relationship. It means so much to me.” And then we hugged, for a very long time, without saying anything. He pulled away first.

 

I handed him a Kleenex and took one for myself to wipe the tears. “We have to make everyone believe we're made of ice Dad,” I said, chiding him.

 

“I seem to be thawing,” he said, and that made us both laugh.

 

“One more thing JP,” he said, and took something out of his pocket. “I think this belongs to you, and you better use it.” He handed me my BankAmericard back, and I hugged him again.

 

As we walked to the dining room, I thought cynically about what a twisted family I had, when the ultimate portrayal of love and affection is a credit card. But looking at my parents as I sat down to dinner, I knew I wouldn't trade them for the world.

 

April 20, 1963

 

I'd ended up taking a little commuter propeller plane out of Columbus so the ride was long (compared to a jet) and bumpy. Then of course there were the usual airport hassles at O'Hare, even though it was pretty new. I hired a cab and slumped in the back, exhausted. I'd had another raucous night with Jeff, fucking like bunnies, then a painful goodbye to everyone that morning. I was really worried about Janice. Tonto had made her promise to stay there at least for a while, but I think she was more worried about the children than Janice.

 

It seemed like it took forever to get to the condo, even though the driver was making great time. I had him pull into the garage and saw my parking spaces. Jeff's car was there, so Jason must be here too. I paid the guy, tipped him well, and rode up the elevator to the 20^th floor. I was about to fumble for my keys when I noticed that the door was slightly ajar.

 

I pushed it open and the condo was a wreck. It had been ransacked. The furniture was still here, but the color television was gone. I wandered into the kitchen. All the household money was gone too. I went into my room and noticed that most of my stuff had been thrown out of the drawers. Whoever had been in here had tried to open the safe but had been unsuccessful. Good. Anything of major value was in there.

 

Then I headed to Jason's room and the same sight greeted me. I wandered through his bedroom, looking at the chaos. I heard a slight noise coming from the bathroom and I headed in there. I momentarily froze in horror. Jason was hanging from the handcuffs, hanging listless from them, with huge red welts across his back. At first I thought he was dead, but I ran over and found he was still breathing. His mouth was gagged. I quickly undid the gag and he came to slightly, looking at me. “Water,” was all he could say.

 

I poured some water into his mouth and while he drank it I scrambled for the keys to the handcuffs. They were nowhere to be found. I ran to the phone and called an ambulance, then went back to pour more water down his throat. It seemed like an eternity until they got there. A couple of medics came into the house and I yelled for them to come back here.

 

“What happened to him?” they asked.

 

“I don't know. I just got home about an hour ago.”

 

One guy ran back down to the ambulance and returned about five minutes later with some massive cutters. He chopped Jason down and laid him flat on the stretcher. “You coming with us?” they asked.

 

“Yeah,” I said, and locked the door as we left, although I can't imagine why.

 

The ambulance made great time to Evanston General, and they took him immediately into the emergency room. They wouldn't let me go with him. I couldn't tell if it was hospital policy, or because he had shown obvious signs of abuse. I sat in the waiting room for an hour, then two hours, then three hours, with only a minimal amount of news. Finally, the doctor came out and told me that he'd be alright. He was dehydrated, and hadn't eaten in three days. His arms had lacerations from the handcuffs that were pretty bad, but they'd stitched and repaired them. He was sleeping so I couldn't see him. They wanted to keep him in the hospital for a few days for observation.

 

Right after the doctor was finished, an Evanston policeman approached me. “Dr. Crampton?” he asked.

 

He looked like a typical cop. Young, early 20s, about 6' tall, and very Irish. He even had that red hair that I found attractive, almost the same color as Peter's. He also had that cop attitude, the kind that I'd never experienced in Claremont because of who I was, but I'd learned to avoid once I'd left. I pulled myself out of my daydreams. “Yes?”

“You're under arrest,” he said coldly.

 

“Under arrest for what?” I asked, with a great deal of irritation.

 

“For beating that young man to within an inch of his life,” he said with a smarmy self-righteous attitude that really pissed me off.

 

“Oh really? Have you lost your mind? I just flew in an hour before I called the ambulance.” That seemed to confuse him.

 

“And where were you before that?” he asked. Like I'd flown around just for an alibi.

 

“Well, yesterday I was attending a memorial service for my cousin who was killed when the USSThresher sank.” I couldn't believe this.

 

“Is there anyone who can vouch for you?” He asked.

 

“Well, my parents, friends, and the First Lady. Why don't you call the White House?”

 

“There's no need to be sarcastic,” he said. Then he read me my rights, cuffed me, and took me down to the police station.

 

Fortunately for me, the Sergeant on duty was much brighter. When my story checked out, they were all apologies, as nice and sweet as could be. The same cop that arrested me drove me back to the hospital.

 

“I'm sorry about that. I thought, well, I hope you don't get offended, but I thought that you were engaged in some kinky sex acts that went too far.” He was blushing.

 

“So you pegged me for a queer right away?” I asked, taunting him.

 

“No, it's not like that, I mean, well, usually when people come in with problems like that, it's the ones that bring them in that did the damage.” He was really embarrassed.

 

“So do you still think I'm a queer?” I asked him.

 

“No, I mean, I don't know, that's your business, I didn't mean to offend you.” I had him in knots.

 

“Officer, are you trying to hit on me?” I asked.

 

“No, no, absolutely not.” He was really frustrated now.

 

“Why? Am I too ugly? You don't think I'm attractive?”

 

“No, it's not that. You look good. It's not that at all...”

 

“So you do find me attractive?”

 

“Yeah, you're attractive, but, no, that's not what I meant,” and he just stammered on. I couldn't help it. I just cracked up, laughing hysterically. He looked at me confused, and then started laughing with me. This guy wasn't too smart.

 

“You really had me going there,” he said.

 

“You deserved it.” I said. “When do you get off duty?”

 

“As soon as I drop you off.”

 

“I need to check in on my friend, and then I need to get some food. I'm starving. Care to join me?”

 

He smiled. “Sure. I guess it's the least I can do.”

 

“The very least,” I said, still teasing him.

 

Back at the hospital, they were still refusing to let me see Jason. My friend the cop intervened and they caved.

 

“Thanks. By the way, you got a name officer?”

 

He pointed at his name tag. “Murphy. I figured that being a doctor and all; you'd know how to read.”

 

“Smart ass. So are you a one-named wonder?”

 

He smiled. “Mike. Mike Murphy.”

 

Jason was in a typical hospital room. I was conscious of the fact that Murphy was in the room with me, though off to the side where he could hear us but be inconspicuous. Such a sleuth. I grinned at him just to let him know he wasn't fooling me.

 

I held Jason's hand and squeezed slightly, which must have woken him up.

 

“JP,” he said hoarsely, “so good to see you. Thanks for saving me.”

 

“What happened Jason?”

 

He cringed. “Told you, shouldn't have hid money from my parents.”

 

“Did they do this?” I asked.

 

“No. They owe money. Those people did it.”

 

“Loan sharks?” I asked. This was starting to make sense.

 

“Yeah. From the mob.” He paused and coughed. The nurse came in and gave me a dirty look.

 

“Jason, don't worry about it, OK. We'll talk about it when you feel better. And then we'll make sure this never happens again. Now get some rest.” He nodded, and I kissed his forehead. Mike followed me out.

 

“Let's go eat,” I said. I was disturbed by his revelations, but those kinds of problems didn't shatter my shields. My castle walls only tumbled down in the face of love, and sometimes lust. That thought made me smile.

 

We stopped at the little restaurant where I'd gone with Tom. I was worried that I'd actually see him here, but that didn't happen.

 

“So it was a mob deal huh?” Mike asked me.

 

“Seems like it,” I responded, not wanting to get the cops involved, at least not yet.

 

“You don't have to be nervous around me. I'm off duty. Besides, if it's mob related, it usually ends up at the FBI. Bobby Kennedy's been gunning for organized crime pretty effectively.”

 

“Thanks Mike. I appreciate that. I just don't know how I want to handle this. Jason's father is a drunk, and I knew that Jason was helping to support him. I just didn't realize he was paying off his loans to a loan shark.”

 

He looked thoughtful. “As I see it, you got two options. The first is that you try to link up with someone in the mob and pay them off to leave him alone. Could cost some cash, but that should get them off your back, or your friend's back. The other is that you call in the Feds. They may nail these guys, and then it doesn’t cost you anything. The downside to that is, they get pissed at you and your car blows up.”

 

This guy was being incredibly candid with me. I appreciated his honesty. “Thanks Mike. I have an off-the-record question for you. If I wanted to contact a mob person to help me out, you know who I could go to?”

 

He blanched at that. “I'm not sure. Let me think about it.” In other words, he wasn't sure if he could trust me. Yet.

 

“You got a family?” I asked.

 

“You mean a wife and kids? Nah. I'm too young for that.”

 

“Is that why you think I'm attractive?” I asked, throwing him for a loop. He blushed three shades of red.

 

“I, I, I never said that.”

 

“That's right. You didn't. In fact, you were about to tell me how ugly I was.”

 

He smiled. He was starting to figure me out. “You're doing it again. You're fucking with me.”

 

“Did you say you wanted to fuck me?” I teased. He just rolled his eyes.

 

I paid the bill. He argued with me, but there's no way I was going to take money from this young beat cop, even if he did arrest me.

 

“Mike, I have a favor to ask.”

 

“What?” he asked cautiously, not sure if I was giving him shit or not.

 

I smiled. “My place was pretty trashed. It's going to be really weird staying there, and, I don't mean to sound like a weenie, it's going to be a little scary. Do you think you could stay with me, at least for a while?”

 

“You asking me to sleep with you?” he countered.

 

“No, no, that's not it, there are other places that...” then I saw his smile and stopped. “You're a quick learner Mike.” He played me at my own game.

 

We got to the condo and I showed him where to park. “That your car?” he asked, pointing at Jeff's Corvette.

 

“No, it belongs to a friend.” The elevator whisked us up, quickly as usual. I rarely ever saw anyone on these elevators. I wonder how full this building actually was.

 

I put the key in the door and opened it nervously. Then I remembered Mike was right behind me and I relaxed.

 

“Nice place,” he said, just like everyone did. “They sure trashed it though.”

 

“Yeah. Looks like I've got my work cut out for me tomorrow.” I sighed.

 

“Well, why don't we get started now? It's only 7PM. We can get a lot of it put back together. Come on, I'll help.”

 

“Really? You don't have to do that.”

 

“I know I don't have to, but I want to.” He headed into the kitchen. “I'll start in here. That way if I get hungry, I'm in the right place.”

 

“Eat anything you want,” I said.

 

“Anything?” he responded, obviously flirting.

 

“Get to work.” I said, and headed to my bedroom to put my stuff back in the drawers.

 

It really wasn't all that hard; it looked a lot worse than it was. I methodically picked up and refolded my clothes, and put them back. I re-matched up my socks. I picked up all the books they'd tossed around the room. And I found the one thing I'd worried that they'd take. Andre's letter case. I took that over to my safe and put it in there like I should have in the first place. In all, it took me about an hour and a half to get my room back in order. I finished up and strolled out to find Mike working on the living room. I peeked into the kitchen which looked perfect.

 

“You work fast,” I said.

 

“That I do,” he responded as he pushed the sofas back into place. By 9:30 we had completely put the condo back together, including Jason's room. I'd even picked out some spare clothes to take to him. Mike yawned.

 

“You tired?” I asked

 

“Yeah. I got the early beat, and once you get into that routine it's hard to stay up late.”

 

“I hear you. It's been a long day. You know, if you don't want to, you don't have to stay over. I'll be fine.” I said, not wanting to impose on him.

 

“You saying you don't want me to spend the night,” he said, walking toward me.

 

“No, I'd like you to spend the night. I just don't want you to feel obligated.”

 

He was directly in front of me, and awfully close. “Then I'll stay. Where do I sleep?” he asked.

 

“How about with me?” I responded, looking up into his emerald green eyes. Then our lips met, and we urgently headed to the bedroom.