“You have reached an FBI secure line. Please state your connection code.”
Kaplan complied. “IK Navy.” A low hum ensued and another connection sounded.
“Stokely here. You have something Kaplan?”
“Two things. This Navy Nurse Philomena Skagan has maneuvered all first Vietnam plaster cast removals to be sent to my ward–G-1–effective immediately. At the end of each month the civilian contractor will collect all sealed elements. Bookkeeping will be concentrated by Skagan and me.”
“Couldn’t be better. What’s the second thing?”
“My GMO LT Paul Norman is allowing my principal assignee SGT Boomer Stiles in a total body cast, to have free access beyond G-1.”
“Surely Stiles cannot be given leave from Queens Naval Hospital?”
“No, but he’s allowed off G-1 with two other patient escorts. I won’t be able to watch him on a twenty-four hour basis.”
“So what. From what we have so far Boomer Stiles is an innocent bystander in this. It’s his cast we have to follow and it seems you still have total control over that. Am I correct?” Stokely made a few notes.
“Correct. The thing is this LCDR Skagan seems to be able to pull the strings on the plaster cast disposals. I still place her high on the military list as possible lead cartel liaison.” Kaplan’s voice continued in whisper mode.
“Just concentrate on the cast material. Our resources from other military hospitals implicate a patient or visitor is or will be the key player in the hospital-to-civilian heroin movement. There might also be a few hospital corpsmen reporting to him so be wary of your peers. I don’t have names yet.”
“All right. I’ll continue to play my role but I really think I have to get close to Skagan. It might prove difficult because of her officer status.” Kaplan kept an eye on the paging lights. So far neither he nor any of his people of interest had been paged.
“Remember what I said. Look to a single patient as the military-to-civilian connection. In the meantime I’ll run a detailed background check on LCDR Philomena Skagan. Call me again whenever the need arises. I’ll keep in touch on my end.” Stokely disconnected.
How can I foster the interest in me from Skagan that LT Dina Sparrow has? Maybe I can use my college background as a door opener.
‡
Every patient liked Boomer Stiles. Two patients on the ward, moreover, had befriended Boomer. One was a mortar man who survived an attack on his position during a minor insertion and firefight at the North Vietnam-Cambodian border. A bullet fracturing his left forearm bones got him his ticket back to the states and to Queens Naval Hospital. The second was an artillery shell loader. Their big field piece had gotten stuck in a soft earthen junction next to a dense copse of low trees and he fractured his femur when a load of shells fell on him. He was in his second long leg cast.
“Okay Boomer we’re headed to the Gedunk. Wanna come with us?” Mortar man Angelo Novo’s short forearm cast did not need a sling. “We’ll get a gurney that’ll pass through any doorway in this place.”
Boomer was an Army man but he learned that the Gedunk was just a name for Navy canteen. It was like a combination soda, sandwich and coffee shop. He had already asked Kaplan about it.
“Hey Ike some of these guys are going to a Gedunk. What the hell’s a Gedunk? I asked someone yesterday and he told me it was a Navy whore house. Everyone laughed. C’mon Ike what the hell is a Gedunk?”
“All right Boomer. On a Navy ship they have a soda shop where you sit, have a soda, coffee or have a sandwich. There’s no booze and no women.”
Boomer laughed. “No women. What’s that mean?”
“I mean on a Navy ship there are no women unless you’re on a hospital ship. The Gedunk is just a Navy label for a coffee shop for military personnel. Here at Queens Naval or any Navy land-based facility there are no women solicitors–no hookers. However, you can go to the Gedunk with your family or a female visitor.” Kaplan gave Boomer a serious look. “But your destinations are limited until you get out of your plaster turtle shell Boomer.”
And now SGT Boomer Stiles had permission from Norman to head to the Navy oasis known as the Gedunk. He could even go to the nightly movie. That is if he had two fit ambulatory patients to steer his gurney.
“Dr. Norman said I need two guys to get out of G-1.” Boomer smiled through his plaster facial window at his two friends.
“Meaghan will be glad to be the second gurney pusher.” Novo returned the smile.
They got as far as the Nurses Station when Kaplan stopped them. “You three guys forget something?” Kaplan held up a clipboard.
Novo reached for it. “Hey Ike. We were just goin’ to sign out. We’re goin to the Gedunk.”
“Boomer can sign if you hold the clipboard and move it around his writing hand.” Kaplan gave the trio his serious tone. “If any damage comes to Boomer’s cast all three of you are confined to G-1 for a week.”
“Whaddya mean? We all get dents in our casts.” Meaghan looked from Novo to Kaplan.
“Boomer still has his original Nam cast on. It has Nam germs. It one single germ gets loose in this compound you three are all in trouble.”
Novo was the leader. “Don’t worry Ike. We’re expert gurney drivers.”
Kaplan watched them disappear out the G-1 entrance. How the hell am I going to find out who the patient liaison for the heroin hospital smuggling ring is?
‡
Perkins dreamt about money–money from heroin impregnated plaster. That bitch Skagan had to go and centralize depoting the casts from all new air-evac arrivals. He didn’t know if he was feeling powerless because of the cute bitch nurse or maybe it was that Kaplan was really the one in charge once the wrapped plaster shells reached G-1. He needed a plan to intercept the new orthopedic air-evacs invoice rosters and change the site of cast application from Viet Nam to either the Philippines or Japan.
Chapter 15
The Happy Hat
March 1972
Army Corporal Sebastian Remo went from a 90-pound skeletonized wheelchair bound patient to 120-pounds in six weeks. His was the typical course once infection was gone and health incentives were given by the ward corpsmen and nurse. In Remo’s case multiple motivations prevailed. Like all colostomy patients getting rid of the colostomy was number one. For Remo the pathway to get on the OR schedule meant gaining weight.
“Remo, every time you have that Aussie hat on you’re eating.” Corpsman Orville Thatch retrieved his empty mess tray.
“Hey Orv I’ve been outta the wheelchair two weeks now and physical therapy says I can get off tha ward with visitors or with another good-shape patient.” Remo’s stomach growled and his colostomy bag gurgled.
“How often are you changing the colostomy bag Remo?” Thatch checked Remo’s fresh bag supply. “And is the stool solid or liquid?”
“My shit bag has been solid for the past month. Look at my belt. My waistline normally is 32. When I came in here it was 24 and now it’s 28.”
“I’ll check with the ward nurse about getting one of the Docs to get you a hospital pass. You have to go in uniform only–no military pajamas or bathrobes.”
Thatch looked at his small notepad. “You got a visitor today in a few minutes. I just got the call from the front desk.”
“Yeah, I’m expectin’ him more now I can walk and go to the sun room for privacy.” Remo looked at his watch which still hung loose on his wrist.
Thatch left just as Crosley Bizetes arrived. A man and a woman also entered and headed for another patient’s bed.
“You’re looking good Remo.” Bizetes looked around the ward. No one was paying them any attention. Bizetes came every other day. His presence was old news to the patients and the ward personnel.
“Yeah, I might be able to get this shit bag removed. The doc said another five pounds and I could get on the OR schedule.” Remo adjusted his hat.
“Look I need you to touch base with our people in here. You’re gonna have to cool it with the surgery
for a while.”
“What? Why? I already met the guy who comes here once a month to get the plaster shit outta here. We even have a few ortho patients with colostomies on F-1. He visits me almost every day–name’s Acky–and he mentioned a guy named Perkins.”
“We know about both guys. We have a small problem. I told you the air-evacs originate from Fort Dix New Jersey. We have a few people out at Dix who have access to the advance air-evac list.”
“I know all that. You told me a few times already.” Remo’s colostomy bag gurgled.
“What the hell was that noise?” Bizetes stepped back from the bed.
“A colostomy fart. You’ll have to get used to them if you want me to delay my surgery.”
“You know this F-1 is amazing. I walk into this ward and I smell a cross between soiled diapers and an antipasto salad. After five minutes I don’t smell it anymore.” Bizetes looked around as more visitors appeared. “Let’s walk to the sunroom.”
The sunroom was at the end of the ward through a pair of French doors. It was furnished with three sofas and five parlor chairs with several coffee tables laced with magazines and decks of cards. The sunroom was usually abandoned during visiting hours.
Bizetes sat on a sofa facing Remo on a parlor chair. “Everything is upholstered in gray vinyl.”
“It’s a Navy hospital. The walls are gray. With the Army everything’s green.” Remo leaned closer to Bizetes. “So what’s with Acky and this guy Perkins?”
“Let me finish with Fort Dix. We’re working on getting the list of orthopedic air-evacs who have Nam plaster casts before the hospital gets it. So far we’re not having much luck. The final list is made the day the air-evacs are shipped from Dix to here. We’re trying to make sure no-one here is changing any of the Nam cast patients to patients with casts put on outside Southeast Asia.”
“So what’s that mean?”
“We get only the Nam casts. Only the Nam casts have the heroin. So if someone here diverts casts labeled as not from Vietnam the money goes into their own pockets.”
Remo adjusted his Happy Hat forward to get the sun from his eyes. “Why are you telling me this?”
“As a patient you’re in a key non-suspect position to check on our guys. The other patients we had in your status never managed to maneuver into a position to check on this. As an F-1 patient who can move around the hospital with appropriate passes you can go to other specialty wards.”
Remo touched the brim of his hat. “Like orthopedic wards.”
“Exactly.”
“Acky Spinelli’s one of us. I see him alla time. What does he have to do with the plaster shit?”
“Spinelli is part of the permanent triage staff. He gets to see the list of air-evacs but he gets it after the JMOOD sees it. It would be hard for him to tamper with it.” Bizetes spoke a little softer.
“What about this Perkins. Who the fuck is he–definitely not Italian.”
“He’s a senior cast technician on G-3. Perkins is one of our key players who keeps track of the casts going to G-1 when he delivers his G-3 plaster. Right now all the removed Nam casts go to G-1. There’s only one other possible player here and the only information we have is that she might be a nurse.”
“Might be? Who’s running this set-up–us or the Navy?” Remo’s colostomy gurgled.
“We think she might be an independent agent or someone an upper management cartel wiseguy has in place to start skimming from us. Or she might just be a spy on our people. There’s also another one to keep an eye on. She’s the charge nurse responsible for each month’s tally before our guys haul the plaster shit outta here. Her name is LCDR Philomena Skagan.”
“Christ. You got a lotta possibles. How am I gonna connect with these possibles?” Remo’s colostomy bag made more collection sounds.
“First thing is we’re gonna get you mobilized to move around the hospital. We’ll have you ‘accidentally’ meet Perkins. Acky you already know. Keep an eye on them and have them get used to you being around.”
“Being around?”
“We’re arranging something for you very soon.” Some visitors were moving slowly toward the sunroom.
“What about the Skag nurse? How the fuck am I going to bump in to her?”
“You’ll arrange that. Once we get you ambulating around the hospital we’ll get you qualified for getting to know everyone of possible interest. I want you to get a little stronger. Gain more weight. What we have in store for you needs a little muscle–not much.” Bizetes smiled.
“Well for fuck’s sake tell me what it is I’m going to be doing.”
“It’s better if it comes as a surprise so it seems natural. I believe you’ll be able to watch Perkins, Skagan, Acky and anyone else we don’t yet know about. With your colostomy still attached you’ll be invisible. I’m told when you guys walk around the hospital people avoid you and your bubbling colostomy fart-and-shit bag.”
‡
Perkins watched Dr. Norman’s pager flash and knew his own would appear shortly. An air-evac was due in and Norman was JMOOD again. There it was. His pager seemed to blink with vigor. 113. 113. 113.
The ward nurse gave him the okay to head to the air-evac. It was a practiced routine. For a month now Perkins had full access to the advance air-evac list from Fort Dix. He’d been able to divert at least one cast per air-evac as having been applied either on a hospital ship or the Naval Hospitals in the Philippines or Japan. His only possible impediment was if LCDR Skagan beat him to the ER. It had happened twice in the past month. He saw her page number light up just as he got to the ER. Too bad Skagan. I got here first.
Perkins grabbed the air-evac list before it was stuck on the ER clipboard. He read down the number of orthopedic patients and found a shoulder spica cast on a big marine and changed the most recent plaster application from RVN to RPN–Republic of Vietnam to Republic of the Philippines. JN was easy to simply delete the RV and add the J for Japan.
In the back of his mind though, he kept picturing the evisceration of the young woman as told to him repeatedly by Abe Linsky and as he remembered in the movie and the photos. No. Not me. I’m too smart for those crooks.
Chapter 16
Ike Kaplan
Kaplan watched with photographic eyes as the civilian plaster disposal contractor paid the first monthly visit to G-1 in its new status as the common dirty-plaster depository. The beer-bellied mustached sweaty man waddled with two heavy-set taller and younger men up to the Nurses Station. Kaplan stared at them reading their soiled once-white coveralls. The right breast pocket logo declared the trio as representatives of Souza Sanitation and Disposal.
Garbage men. Kaplan waited for them to speak first and the blimpy body seemed to be their leader as he scanned G-1 and back to Kaplan with dark bags under his eyes. “I’m Frannie.” He held up his visitors pass. “These visitor tags don’t stick to our uniforms on account of the dust and crud what sticks to the cloth.” Frannie motioned to the two bouncer-type colleagues who showed their visitor tags. Frannie reached for a clip board extended to him by bouncer number one and continued to stare at Kaplan.
“Says here this G-1 has all the old plaster casts in one place.” He scratched his left lower belly and smiled. “At’s good. Saves us a lot of time goin’ roun’ to all the other G wards like before. So where you keepin’ the stuff for us. I hope it’s still in the plastic bags. We don’t won’t no Asian diseases contaminatin’ our uniforms.”
Kaplan kept his arms bent with his fists at his waist. He stared at the Souza Sanitation leader’s nametag. “Frannie Zingo. Do I call you Frannie or Mr. Zingo?”
“I like Frannie. A lot of people call me Zingo but it sounds too cartoonish, you know. Like something from the Saturday mornin’ TV funnies I watch with my boy Angelo.”
Kaplan looked at him and his goon crew. The lot of you look like comic book crooks. Zingo’s two muscle men had telltale firearm armpit bulges. “Okay Frannie. The casts are all consolidated in our plaster wo
rk room. This is the only orthopedic ward with a loading dock. We get new supplies for all the ortho wards and now all the Southeast Asia casts exit from here. You guys don’t have to walk around the hospital with the potential for any air contamination due to an accident.”
“Accident? We ain’t never had no accident. You have the list of all the casts from all the other G wards? We don’t get paid unless we have a document for the whole load.” Zingo waved his clip board.
“As soon as LCDR Skagan arrives we’ll go over the invoices she’s bringing. It has to match mine.” Kaplan saw Skagan’s page stop blinking. “She’ll be on her way now. So let’s go into the workroom and I’ll show you guys the new layout.”
Kaplan thought back to his meeting with Agent Adam Stokely just a few days before.
‡
FBI Special Agent Stokely arrived at visiting hours. It was his third meeting with Kaplan. The doors to the cast room were closed and LT Sparrow was with the other corpsmen managing the busy visitors and patients on G-1.
Stokely sat on the combination examination and cast table looking down at Kaplan seated at the small steel desk. “Ike, I wanted to see you earlier about the change in keeping all the Vietnam applied cast material in one ward–your ward.”
“You knew about that didn’t you? You knew before me?” Kaplan felt miffed.
“We’re doing this in every stateside military hospital. In a few weeks we hope to make our mass movement to grab the key movers and players in this heroin smuggling operation. You’ll be a key figure at Queens Naval.”
“I thought it was LCDR Skagan’s brain storm. I actually had the idea she was pulling some kind of stunt as a possible cartel member.” Kaplan raised his eyebrows.
Stokely smiled, “We still have no idea where Skagan fits into this. So far she’s still a straight-laced Navy Nurse obsessive with her job–but we still don’t know if any cartel connection with her exists.”
“I was thinking of getting a little closer to her both professionally and socially.”
“Ike if you think you can do it without blowing your cover or jeopardizing your safety I say go for it.” Stokely looked around the cast room. “How often do you receive supplies at the loading area in this room?”
THE HAPPY HAT Page 10