59 Hours

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59 Hours Page 5

by Johnny Kovatch


  However, Natasha was skeptical. She came to the conclusion that something was wrong. She asked Pressley about Nick. Her worst fears were confirmed. Nick had been kidnapped. And not only kidnapped, he was asked to vacuum the floor. Things didn’t make sense. This was not like Rugge. He was known to be generous and hospitable, never asking his friends to do anything for him. It was out of character.

  Natasha wondered why Rugge told them not to allow Nick to use the phone. She didn’t ask Rugge directly but instead confided in Pressley. He disclosed that the kidnapping had happened when Rugge went down to Los Angeles to meet up with Jesse Hollywood. Nick was collateral when they couldn’t find Ben Markowitz.

  Pressley wasn’t worried at first. Rugge had told him that Nick was just going to stay for a couple of days and by all means, make him feel at home.

  Kelly found out the real reason Nick was there when Natasha leaned over out of earshot of Nick, who was sitting across the table from them. Nick had been kidnapped. Even after Natasha informed her, Kelly still thought the entire situation was surreal. “There wasn’t anything to enforce a seriousness in the situation.”

  Even though Natasha was concerned that Nick was being held against his will, the whole scenario didn’t seem real. Everyone was friendly, and the atmosphere wasn’t tense at all. “It was mostly light and like, fun.” They were watching television, smoking cigarettes and weed. Nick confided to Natasha that he was addicted to Valium. Did he think this would somehow impress her? He told her he was seventeen. Maybe bumping up his age would do it? He then confided he was a couple of years younger.

  Later in the day on that Monday, August 7, Natasha would drive herself, Kelly, Nick, Rugge, and Pressley back to her house. When she went upstairs to use the bathroom, Rugge had already left. He had a meeting with Hollywood, who had driven up.

  At her house, Natasha never offered Nick the use of the phone. Why would she wait for him to ask? Nick made the decision for her. He told her “that it was okay because he was doing it for his brother, and that as long as his brother was okay, he was okay.” This put her at ease.

  Nick wasn’t going anywhere. He was going along for the ride. He didn’t want to stir the waters for his brother. For Nick, Ben had been through enough. He loved his brother and didn’t want to add to his troubles. No, Nick, in fact, wanted to try to be a part of the solution. Even if it meant being held against his will. Even if it was under the guise of just riding it out.

  Nick asked Natasha for some rubbing alcohol and Neosporin to clean the scrape on his elbow. He mentioned that Hollywood was looking for his brother but never told her why. Pressley would let her know the reason.

  At this point, this was the only time Nick was not with his original kidnappers.

  Hollywood had driven with his girlfriend to Santa Barbara at Rugge’s request. They headed to East Beach to grab lunch. Rugge didn’t eat, pressing Hollywood about taking Nick home. Hollywood just shrugged and changed the subject. Rugge was growing agitated. This wasn’t his problem or mess. But it was just like Hollywood to be unable to fight his own battles.

  Rugge called Natasha and told her to bring Nick back to his house. She drove back with Kelly and Pressley. She had yet to vocalize her concern to Rugge that what he was a part of wasn’t a good idea. She was still in shock and trying to process everything. She kept telling herself that it wasn’t a big deal. Nick appeared to be going along with it. Anytime she thought about doing something, she talked herself down. I don’t want to be involved!

  Two other guests had come over to Rugge’s. Hollywood and his girlfriend, Michelle Lasher. Natasha was concerned when she saw Hollywood. She didn’t trust him. Or his bad energy.

  Hollywood walked into the living room where everyone was sitting. Natasha looked over his girlfriend. They had never met. Lasher was five foot three with seemingly fake breasts. She had French-manicured toenails and fingernails and was super skinny. She was wearing jeans, white-heeled shoes, and a shirt that exposed her navel.

  Natasha watched as Lasher propped herself on Hollywood’s lap. Seeing new faces didn’t keep Hollywood and Lasher from being affectionate.

  However, for Nick, there was a negative physiological reaction when Hollywood entered the living room, so much that he didn’t speak when he excused himself and headed upstairs.

  Hollywood only stayed for about thirty minutes. Natasha no longer wanted to hang out with Hollywood. She heard parts of a conversation where Hollywood mentioned “baseball bat.” She wondered if this was in reference to hurting Nick. She threw him a sharp look.

  When discussing plans for the night, Kelly couldn’t tell if Hollywood was serious or joking when he told the group, “We’ll just tie the kid up and toss him in the back of the car and go get dinner and go swimming at the Fess Parker or the Biltmore or something.” Nick didn’t hear this conversation. He was still upstairs in Rugge’s room.

  Nick would come to be referred to as the “Stolen Boy.”

  * * *

  On Tuesday, August 8, forty-eight hours into Nick’s abduction, Natasha expressed her concern to Pressley. She was the only one with a car, so she didn’t mind driving to pick him up. From there, they headed to Rugge’s where Kelly met them.

  Natasha had become worried about the situation. What was Nick still doing there? Hollywood had come and gone and didn’t take Nick with him. Rugge was becoming more stressed, feeling like the official babysitter.

  While at Rugge’s Natasha went for a walk with Pressley and Kelly. She wanted to ask Pressley privately if Nick was going to be killed. He was taken aback. He told her, “Of course not.” But then he confided a darker secret: Hollywood had offered Rugge two thousand dollars to kill Nick. Rugge declined it. Once again, William Skidmore was right—Hollywood was known to pay everyone else to do his bidding.

  Natasha kept a secret of her own. She didn’t tell Pressley that on the previous night she had turned to her mother, who was an attorney, for advice. Natasha wanted to know about the charges for kidnapping, speaking vaguely when referencing the situation. She had told her mother it involved some kids she knew and a boy who had been kidnapped. Her mother was shocked. Kids kidnapping kids?

  Natasha’s mother advised her to go to the police. She did not, hoping the situation would blow over. She was also in fear of retaliation by Hollywood if he found out. If it came down to saying anything, even if it was a question of whether Nick’s life was in danger, she could lie to herself.

  Pressley—a local pot dealer under Rugge—remained concerned. He was helpless and didn’t know what to do. He advised Natasha not to say a thing. He didn’t want anyone going to jail. He also told her they could possibly end up dead because Jesse Hollywood was crazy. When Pressley and Kelly headed inside Rugge’s, Natasha stayed behind to compose herself. She was still crying and wanted to calm herself.

  Kelly confided to Nick how upset Natasha had become. “Why?” Nick said. “Is it because of me?” He told her, “Don’t worry about it, it’s just another story to tell my grandkids.”

  Natasha finally went inside. She would speak to Rugge in his dining room. When Rugge told her that she looked like she had been crying, Natasha replied that she was worried about Nick’s well-being. What were they going to do with him? She made Rugge promise that they were going to take Nick home. Rugge made the promise. He looked her in the eyes and swore to her he was going to take Nick home. Or at least put him on a Greyhound bus.

  Natasha didn’t confront Rugge about the fact that she had been told about Hollywood’s offer for him to kill Nick. No matter what the outcome, she just didn’t want to be involved.

  Rugge had had enough. Why hadn’t Hollywood taken Nick home yet?

  Rugge constantly paced, then sat down and told Kelly that he didn’t want “to be in a situation.” In front of everyone, he told Nick, “I don’t think that I should be a part of this, and I’m going to get you home. I’m going to give you fifty dollars. You’re taking a train home tonight, and then you’ll have some mon
ey left over to get a cab home.” The one thing he didn’t want to have happen was for the police to arrive at his home the next day and question him.

  Rugge asked Nick how he could be sure that Nick wouldn’t speak about any of the details surrounding his disappearance. Nick put him at ease. “I’m not doing anything now, I’m going along with it, I’m not going to tell anybody. You guys have been nice to me.”

  To cut the mood, Rugge suggested that they party at a hotel that night. It had been stressful enough. Nick went along with it, never causing waves, remembering he was doing this for his brother.

  Then around five thirty p.m. on the evening of August 8, the group headed to the Lemon Tree Inn.

  Chapter 12

  The Mentor

  THERE WOULD BE NO PARTYING for the Markowitzes on August 8. They had waited a day and a half, hoping Nick was at a friend’s, or someplace maybe Ben knew. Susan wouldn’t write in the journal she shared with Nick that day. No, the only writing she would be doing incorporated a spreadsheet with hundreds of names. It didn’t matter if they were close friends, neighbors, teachers, acquaintances, friends of Ben, or friends of friends of someone they had never met. She was trying to contact everyone. And yes, still paging the hell out of her son.

  Jeff Markowitz had filed a missing persons report and taken out his motorcycle, looking for his son on the trails he used to ride with Nick. Ben Markowitz hadn’t heard from Nick either. He had been away in Arizona, working a construction job with an uncle and showed up at their house the previous day, August 7.

  Susan couldn’t help but wonder what kind of trouble Nick might be in. He was no angel; he had been in trouble before and things always worked out. He did have other guidance, from Kirk Miyashiro, the dean of students at El Camino Real High School.

  Kirk had many arrows in his quiver. Not only was he a reserve police sergeant for Monterey Park, but also a part of the Crime Impact Team that focused on gang activities in the San Gabriel Valley.

  There were thirty-eight hundred students divided between Kirk and his two colleagues, each carrying a caseload of around thirteen hundred students. Nick fell under Kirk’s supervision for no other reason than where his last name landed alphabetically.

  * * *

  Kirk spent his first ten years in Hawaii, until his family relocated to the Bay Area. He moved down to Southern California, where he received his teaching credential at Long Beach State. From there, he entered the Los Angeles Unified School District as a student teacher. Eighteen years later—which included teaching physical education, health, and biology in middle school—he accepted his position at El Camino.

  El Camino was the best high school in the LAUSD. The school held four academic decathlon national titles. That spoke volumes of all one hundred and fifty teachers.

  Of the school’s thirty-eight hundred students, 50 percent came from the local area in the Valley, while the other 50 percent comprised two different arenas. One was called PWT—Permit with Transportation. Those were students who wanted to come out of the inner city—South Central LA and parts of downtown LA. They all bordered the Compton area. They came to El Camino with permission and transportation provided. That was about 25 percent of the population. The other 25 percent was called CAP. These were students whose schools in the inner city were now at capacity and could no longer take any more students. Those students were reassigned to available schools.

  Kirk spent six periods a day doing discipline. He also ran a lunch detention during the day and supervision at night, along with additional supervision for athletic endeavors.

  When addressing forms of discipline once a teacher referred a student, the deans had a rubric to follow as to what could be deemed warnings, detentions, Saturday school, suspensions, or expulsions.

  Nick Markowitz was one student who fell under this rubric. Kirk had met Nick in ninth grade. Nick was a typical freshman who “got himself in little bits of trouble here and there. Disruptions, nothing serious.” Their conversations were always simple and straightforward, without a trace of indignation on Nick’s part. “Hey, do you know why you’re here?” Nick would own up and they’d move past the issue.

  Kirk became more familiar with Nick in the tenth grade. They’d often discuss baseball. His sophomore year an infraction occurred outside the scope of a simple Saturday detention. It fell under trespassing and didn’t involve any drugs or weapons. Kirk ended up sending him to another school for ten weeks. The official term was Opportunity Transfer (OT).

  Kirk met with Nick and Susan. He told Nick, “Look, you need a new start, a fresh start. And so what I’m going to do, I’m going to send you to a particular high school in LA in the Valley, so you won’t have to go too far.” Kirk believed Nick needed some “breathing room.”

  Nick’s demeanor with Kirk was always one of respect. As a dean, Kirk dealt with all kinds of kids, especially those who were always in total denial—I didn’t do that! Nick was the total opposite. Kirk felt Nick was one of those kids he really needed to save. Nick had made a mistake. But Kirk knew everyone made mistakes. Could Kirk have OT’d him for twenty weeks? Absolutely. He could have OT’d him for the entire year. But Kirk sensed that with his upbringing and polite manners, he would be fine. Kirk’s wisdom ran deep like the ancient philosophers: What an elder sees sitting, the young can’t see standing.

  Kirk assured Nick and his parents that he would stay in contact with Nick’s dean at his new school, and if he got a good report, he would be welcomed back with open arms. Kirk kept tabs on all his students that he had to OT. He encouraged Nick, “It’s only for x number of weeks. Keep your nose clean; I’ll check to see where you are.” Nick did not raise any protest. He accepted accountability and the temporary transfer.

  When it came to dealing with students in trouble, Kirk was a believer in second chances. “I always tried to discipline with a redemptive piece. That’s the way I was trained. Yes, we have to lay the hammer down, but there’s always ways to come back.”

  As a reserve officer and dean, Kirk was aware of the underground drug culture. There wasn’t a school in the United States that was immune to it. For Kirk, he had to answer the questions, At what level are we affected by it? Is it at El Camino? Absolutely. Could Kirk stop it? He did his best. But with one campus police officer, three deans, and a narc for thirty-eight hundred students? You do the math.

  Dealing with the Asian gang culture, Kirk was familiar with the gang William Skidmore was jumped into, though he had never met Skidmore.

  As dean at El Camino, he didn’t have to traverse the city streets to investigate. No, some gang members were now under the same roof. They came to him. Now he was dealing with crossover not only from Asian and Chicano gangs, but Persian and Aryan Nation gangs as well.

  One of his first expulsions during his first month at El Camino involved a CAP student who had gotten into a fight. The student ended up with a loaded gun in the front pocket of his backpack.

  It wasn’t uncommon for other CAP students to bring their affiliation into the school setting, then mix with locals affiliated with Persian or white Aryan race gangs. One such affiliation was with a particular Aryan brotherhood Ben Markowitz was allegedly associated with at one point. Tattoos of swastikas, lightning bolts, or a woodpecker connoted the affiliation. It seemed it was six degrees of separation in the city of West Hills.

  Kirk did his best to intuit potentially dangerous situations. He invested effort to breach systematic and parental failures that stemmed either from gross negligence or a simple lack of awareness.

  This would lead him to encourage Nick that much harder. Kirk would have countless one-on-one discussions. He wanted every student to “never be afraid to ask for help.”

  Kirk wasn’t hesitant to intercede with Nick. He knew how much Nick’s parents loved him and wanted the best for him. He always believed that education was a partnership. That meant incorporating parents or guardians. However, he knew his influence was limited. The foundational piece came from home. It
didn’t come from him. He was “an auxiliary.” It didn’t stop him from having an open door policy for students who didn’t have anyone to confide in.

  Kirk never wanted to be that individual who had to ask himself, Why didn’t I get involved? No matter how much defensiveness he encountered from parents, he always had his students’ best interests at heart.

  That included Nick. “He was never disrespectful to me, took his punishment, and did what he was supposed to do when I asked him to do it.” Kirk couldn’t ask any more of a student. Nick had Kirk’s full respect.

  But Nick was now in a situation in which Kirk couldn’t intervene. It wasn’t Nick this time who’d caused the trouble. Somehow he’d found himself in the middle of it.

  Chapter 13

  Seeking Advice

  WHILE THE GROUP WAS HANGING out at Rugge’s house, Hollywood went to see his lawyer, Stephen Hogg.

  Hogg had litigated Jesse Hollywood out of a couple of previous binds—possession of alcohol as a minor and resisting arrest. Now, the man with a graying ponytail and beard was watching Jesse Hollywood pace and chain-smoke in the backyard of his Simi Valley home. The conversation couldn’t have been further from discussing the latest misdemeanor. Hollywood wanted to ascertain the penalty for friends who had kidnapped someone.

  Hogg told him it could be life in prison if they asked for ransom. He encouraged Hollywood to contact the authorities and report the incident. Hogg, maybe sensing that Hollywood wasn’t being completely forthright with his involvement, advised him that if he stayed ahead of the situation and was the first to report it, maybe the cops would go easier on him. But Hollywood refused. He wouldn’t turn himself in. He wouldn’t give names. He stormed out.

  The situation had reached critical mass. It might have been that Hollywood had already made up his mind about what to do with Nick.

  Hollywood was about to graduate from the virtual ranks of PlayStation to actual shot caller with zero interest in rebooting lives. And fuck it if Nick Markowitz was in the wrong place at the wrong time—his role was about to transform from innocent bystander to cautionary tale for anyone who dared to cross this local cannabis dealer.

 

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