Tell Me A Story
Back in the
early Fifties – before the grandparents of most of you were born – there was a
week when my grandfather had to deal with a series of incidents in this
town. Individually, they were small
scale – it was only a few months later that they discovered the significance of
everything that happened. But, as they
say, hindsight is a great teacher – which is why I am here to tell you about
it, and see if you can spot what failed everyone then.
It started on
the Monday, when my grandfather was called out to a robbery at a bar
downtown. It was the sort of place adult
men liked to unwind over beer, nuts and good looking barmaids, so they wore a
very particular outfit – a black silk halter neck top that was more of a bra
than a top, a matching short skirt with a split at the side, and black three
inch heels.
So when the
manager got into the bar that morning, he was surprised to find one of his
barmaids – Rhoda – still in the office.
Admittedly, she was having a little difficulty leaving, given she was
sitting on a filing cabinet, and someone had tied a length of rope around one
ankle, round the cabinet, and then on her other ankle.
To make matters
worse, said person had tied her legs together above her knees, her wrists
together behind her back, rope around her stomach and her chest, which held her
arms in place.
She was also in
no position to call for help – well, she tried, the damp stain in the centre of
the white scarf that was pulled between her lips a testament to the efficacy of
a thick cloth cleave gag.
He called the
police, and when my grandfather got there he had untied her and removed the
gag. She told him she had been about to
leave when two men, with scarves covering the lower part of their faces, rushed
in and tied her to the cabinet. Once
they gagged her, they searched the place, and then left without taking
anything.
To my
grandfather, it looked like a prank gone wrong, but they made sure she was
taken to hospital, while the bar owner confirmed nothing had been taken. So he made the report out and told the
officers to be on the alert for college rush pranks.
And in his
mind, that should have been that. So
when he got the call on the Tuesday, he started by phoning the local college
and giving the Dean a piece of his mind.
Which was when
he was told the college did not have a rush week on – so he drove to the
farmhouse.
Lottie had been
doing the chores around the house when it happened. She had fed the chickens, and was going to
start preparing the evening meal when she was grabbed from behind, a heavy
cotton gloved hand pressed over her mouth.
She was dragged in and made to sit on a chair by the table, as she saw a
second man in front of her, wearing a scarf over the lower part of his face as
he pointed a gun at her, and told her to keep quiet.
She was wearing
a simple blue dress, but as she struggled the tops of the sleeves slipped down
to reveal her shoulders. That didn’t
stop the man who was hand gagging her from pushing a hanky in her mouth, and
then pulling a white scarf tightly round her head to keep it in place.
He then took a
length of rough rope and pulled her hands behind the chair back, tying her
wrists tightly together as the second man knelt down and did the same to her
ankles. He then pulled them under the
chair and secured them to the crossbeam, before they each took a longer length
of rope. One stood behind her and
pulled her back against the chair, binding her arms and chest to the chair, while
the other man tied her lap to the chair seat.
And he really tied
her down – the rope was secured to every joint on the chair as well as
her. She could only move her head as
she watched them raid the kitchen, and then hear them as they searched the rest
of the house.
When my Grandfather
talked to her, she was shaken up, but her description matched that of the two
men at the bar – and the college denied there were any stunts going on. He still dispatched a couple of officers to
talk to the students, but something was beginning to nag at the back of his
mind about these two raids. Nothing
taken, but she was scared and badly shaken up.
The problem for
him was – who were they, why were they doing this, and what the heck was going
on? It gave him a sleepless night – and
then it got even stranger.
Donna worked at
the local convenience store, and always wore clothes that were practical and
casual, if not exactly flattering. On
the Tuesday, that was an old checked blouse, the sleeves rolled up past her
elbows, and a long pleated skirt.
So when the bell
at the door opened at eleven, and she was sweeping up in the back, she didn’t
think too much of it. We’re a small
town, we trust each other, and it wasn’t unknown for folks to leave money and
take goods.
What was
unknown – up until then – was for someone to come in, lock the door, and then
come through the back and point a gun at Donna, telling her to be quiet and do
exactly what she was told. She was, to
put it mildly, a little perturbed – especially when the gun was the one she
kept under the counter out front.
They made her
stand against one of the supports in the back store – and that was when they
grabbed the washing line, and got to work.
One of them started by wrapping the rope around the post, her arms and
shoulders, and her waist so that she was secured in place, while the second one
knelt down and tied her legs together over her skirt, and then to the
post. As they did this, Donna kept
asking them what they wanted, and they said – nothing.
Instead, she
found herself lashed to the support, unable to do more than move an inch or two
– and then unable to speak as a thick rag was tied tightly round her head,
stopping anything more than a faint grunt escaping as she tried to call out.
She clenched
her fists, more in rage and frustration then fear, as she stared at the two men
– but yes, their faces were obscured by the scarves tied round their heads, as
they went into the main store and threw stuff off the shelves, and onto the
floor.
She was scared,
sure – after all, they had a gun, and they were trashing her place, but then
they left – and she could see her purse on the counter, the till unopened. So who they were, and what they wanted, was a
complete mystery to her.
The biggest
surprise, however, was the look on he faces of the two High School students who
came in an hour later, found the place in a mess – and then found her trying to
call for help, dripping in sweat. When
my grandfather spoke to Donna later, she said they stared at her for two full
minutes, before they ran screaming out of the store. One of them ran straight into the deputy –
and he freed her.
That night,
after supper, my grandfather apparently sat down and looked over the notes of
the three cases. They all had the same
MO – two men, their faces covered by masks, grabbing, binding and gagging a
woman and then trashing the place they were in.
Nothing was stolen – but they were left upset, scared and unable to free
themselves.
For the life of
himself, however, he could not see what connected a bargirl, a farmer’s wife
and a shop worker. He made a few more
notes, and then went to bed that night…
Now, very small
town has one or more now, and it was no different back then – a house of ill
repute, a bordello, a whorehouse, depending on your taste in language and
honesty. And this place was no different
– back then, it was under the auspices of Mrs Laverne Dietrich. My grandfather used to describe her as the
most honest woman in town – she made no secret of what she did, and she felt
she had no need to.
She also kept a
strict policy on the ladies who worked for her – good health and dental plans,
good pay, she treated them right. So
come the Thursday, the call to the house came as something of a surprise to him
– he knew she tolerated no trouble.
When he got
there, however, it was Mrs Dietrich who was in trouble – the girls said they
could not get into her office, but they could hear her in there, so he told his
deputy to take them downstairs, and then – well, he kicked the door open
himself.
“Hfffnkkgdgtsuu.” He told me that was what Laverne said when
she saw him – someone had stuck one stocking inside the other, and then pushed
the lump into her mouth, before tying the stocking round her head. She had a strict dress code – white blouse,
always ironed, long silk skirt, silk stockings and heels, as well as gloves on
her hands.
Those hands
were behind her, her arms tied at her crossed wrists, and then rope around her
upper arms and chest to lock them into place.
As he described it, her skirt was open at the side split, so he could
see her garter belt holding her stockings up – and the band of rope holding her
legs together above her knees.
Another band
held her ankles tightly together, as she looked at him and pleaded for
help. Well, my grandfather was a
gentleman, so he helped her to sit up and removed the gag from her mouth,
untying her as she told her story.
A story he had
heard before - two men, scarves covering their faces, came in and overpowered
her, tied her up, gagged her, and then ransacked the office. But they didn’t touch the money bags on her
table, or her own purse – they just made a mess.
Now by now my
grandfather was wondering just what the hell was going on, so he put out an APB
on the two suspects. But Laverne only
knew Donna because she shopped there on occasion, and didn’t know Lottie or
Rhoda at all. So why these four women?
That night, he
did what he did every Thursday night – went to Jerry’s house for beer and
poker. He talked to his friends about
it, while Jerry’s wife Shirley served the snacks and drinks. He always remembers her saying something like
that wasn’t just a coincidence – something else had to be going on.
He just could not
see what that could be – and he wondered if he was going to get called out the
next day to another raid like it. Well,
he was – only on that Friday, it was back to Jerry’s house.
He worked down
the local sawmill, and had left the house that morning after kissing Shirley
goodbye. When he got back about six that
night, he saw his wife waiting – and called me, so that I became the second and
only other person to see her.
She was, to put
it mildly, upset – and so would any of you had been. She was wearing a black slip and a knee
length grey skirt, as well as dark hose and black shoes, and was seated in an
old wooden chair, her arms on the rests – and tied to them with lengths of
rope. Her wrists were firmly secured
down, while there was rope around her elbows, the joints of the chair arms at
the back, and the chair back itself. She
had her legs crossed, her ankles secured with more ropes to the front legs of
the chairs. Most disturbing of all was
the large red ball that was in her mouth, the leather straps on either side
pressing on her cheeks as they went round her head.
She was looking
daggers at Jerry, so grandfather told him to go and make some coffee while he
unstrapped and eased the ball from her mouth.
She then had a few choice words to say as he untied her, and handed her
the robe that was over the back of the easy chair.
She had
showered after Jerry left, and was almost dressed when they jumped her. From her description, it was the same two
guys – they tied her to the chair, used that ball thing to keep her quiet, the
went upstairs. When his deputies
arrived, they found the bedroom trashed – but again, nothing taken.
Nothing at
all… It was proving a perplexing little
problem, so he took her statement, went back to his office, and tried to figure
it out. Whoever these two guys were,
they were more than pranksters now – they were a serious nuisance, and had to
be stopped.
Now, Saturday
would normally be his day off, but he’d been up all night trying to figure out
what was going on, so he decided to head for home and grab some food with my
grandmother. When he drove up to the
porch, everything looked real nice and normal – it was only when he got in, and
could not smell the coffee, he decided to get a mite worried.
A worry that
increased when he saw the mess in the main room, and ran up the stairs. My Pappy was away at camp at the time, so he
never saw what my grandfather saw – my grandmother sitting the wrong way round
on her vanity chair, staring at my grandfather, a wide bit of sticking plaster
covering her mouth.
What was worse,
she was in her personals – a black bra and panties, stockings and heels. Her ankles were tied to the back legs of the
chair, and her wrists crossed, tied and resting on the back support – but more
rope was wrapped round her and the chair, holding her legs to the chair back,
and even round her neck. Not tight enough
to give cause for concern, but tight enough.
He peeled that
plaster away, and she told him she had been getting ready when two men, with
scarves over their faces, jumped her and tied her to the chair. They said nothing, just left her there as
they went downstairs. To grandfather,
this was like a red rag to a bull – they had done this to taunt him, and now
they were his, if he ever caught them.
But he never
did – the attacks ended that day. It
bothered him of course – why would two men do that to a barmaid, a farmer’s
wife, a shop worker, a brothel owner, a housewife and the wife of the sheriff?
Well, he kept
looking, and they never appeared again in the town. Three months later, however, a gang targeted
the local mine, and robbed the office on payday. Two men, wearing scarves, held the staff at
gunpoint and made off with five thousand dollars.
At the same
time, however, four other women were attacked in their homes by identically
dressed pairs of men – with scarves over their faces – and left tied up and
gagged while they ransacked the homes.
Nothing was taken, but the police were called to all four houses at the
same time – leaving no one to go to the mine when they reported the robbery…
Then my
grandfather knew what had happened – and how lucky they had all been…
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