"Teaches Sunday school. Ah, now we're onto something.
He's a fanatic."
"No, he's Presbyterian, like you were."
"That's what I mean. They play Guy Lombardo arrangements of Beethoven. On second thought, that's about as violent as Presbyterians generally get."
"Bad enough."
"When I was thirteen, the teen boys' Sunday school teacher, Lawrence McCool, read us sports stories. Heroes, exciting games, sportsmanlike behavior. Mr. McCool was partial to the Yankees, even though central New Jersey had its share of Phillies fans such as myself. There was a prayer before we left the church each week-that's when Jesus elbowed his way in-but the class was mostly sports. Also the odd off-color joke. It was in Sunday school where I first heard the joke whose punch line is, 'Little man of Spic 'n' Span, where were you when the shit hit the fan?'"
"Donald, now I finally grasp what the Reformation was all about."
I passed the Crowne Plaza Hotel. It was in the bar here where some years earlier, when the place was still a Hilton, I interviewed a man in a case that led to my having one of my ears bitten off. The ear was soon re-attached, and now it was practically everybody else out in public who went around apparently in fear of an ear coming loose.
I said, "This afternoon I'm talking to these two people making the accusation against Louderbush. Meanwhile, I'll be in the office googling up what I can on the suicide. Dunphy says what's there is sketchy."
"If it was a SUNY student, you might get something from the school. Although I suppose their records are confidential."
"Yes, I suppose they are."
He heard this the way he often hears things I say, and he briefly moved on to another topic before ringing off. **** Gregory Stiver's obit appeared in both the Albany Times Union and the Schenectady Daily Gazette. Schenectady was where his family lived. The TU also had a brief news story about the suicide.
Stiver, 24, was actually a graduate student in economics I had imagined someone a bit younger-who had jumped to his death from the roof of the Livingston Quad 4 classroom tower at the State University of New York's Western Avenue campus in Albany. Police had found no evidence of foul play in the late April incident five years earlier. The TU story said friends had described Stiver as despondent in recent weeks.
The unnamed friends attributed Stiver's despondency to his inability to line up a job that would follow the awarding of his master's degree in less than a month's time. Two possible teaching jobs had recently fallen through. There was no mention of a troubled romantic relationship nor of any physical abuse.
The Schenectady obituary described a life that offered no hint that it might come to a sad and early end. Stiver had been an excellent student in Schenectady public schools. He'd been a member of the debating club in high school and had been on the swim team. He had earned a bachelor's degree in economics at SUNY Albany two years before his death. At SUNY, Stiver had been active in the Federalist Society, the 23
Red White and Black and Blue by Richard Stevenson conservative constitutional "originalists"-and also in the Log Cabin Club, the gay Republicans. So he was conservative, he was gay, and he was out.
The photo accompanying the Schenectady obit was a head shot, perhaps a student ID picture, of a pleasant-faced young man with a crew cut and a wide smile. He seemed to be wearing a jacket and tie, an unusual getup for a college student in our casual era.
Stiver was survived, both obits said, by his parents, Anson and Margery Stiver of Schenectady, and by a brother, Hugh, and a sister, Jennifer, also of Schenectady.
A funeral was scheduled to take place at the Fairlawn Presbyterian Church in Schenectady. In lieu of flowers, donations could be made to something called The Eddie Fund, in care of the funeral home.
That's all the Internet had to offer on Gregory Stiver. I googled the Eddie Fund, but nothing came up. Either it was so obscure or so old-fashioned that it had no Internet presence, or sometime during the previous five years the Eddie Fund had ceased to exist. It wasn't in the phone book, either.
Virgil Jackman and Janie Insinger had had some sort of falling out, Dunphy had told me. The former friends were no longer speaking to each other, so I was going to have to interview them separately. In fact, I preferred this. I could listen to their own versions of events, cross-check them, and do re-interviews if needed.
Already the two accusers had credibility because both had contacted the McCloskey campaign independently with the same story about a physically abusive Kenyon Louderbush having driven Greg Stiver to suicide. Insinger had also called the Merle Ostwind campaign, she told Dunphy, because she was so angry with Louderbush that she was determined that all of his political opponents should gang up on him and keep him from gaining higher office. Insinger told Dunphy that she had not gone to the press with her charges because she wanted her name kept out of the controversy for family and professional reasons. Exposing Louderbush would have to be left up to individuals of a certain ilk such as myself.
I wasn't sure how it would be possible to confirm and expose Louderbush's reprehensible behavior if one of the two witnesses to it refused to be named. I would have to figure that out; maybe other witnesses could be found and they would be willing to speak out. Dunphy said that if I were to become convinced of Louderbush's guilt, he was ready to approach Louderbush privately-no press leakage at this point-and urge him to save himself from public embarrassment over what we had dug up and drop out of the race. Dunphy told me he would consider this an act of patriotism, not extortion. The US Attorney's interpretation of any such conversation might be harsher, however, and I told Dunphy we needed to find a less indictable way to shove Louderbush off the Democratic ticket. He asked me if I had a law degree, and I admitted that, no, I was just another English major. This gave him pause. He said he knew a lawyer he could ask, and he would do that.
Virgil Jackman was taking a late lunch break at two o'clock from his job as an assistant manager at a chain sporting goods store in the Colonie Mall, and I met him at the Denny's on Wolf Road. He was easy to spot from Dunphy's description: a good six-five with a bodybuilder's physique under his retailer's dress shirt and name tag, wide gray eyes, and an interestingly meaty face with a small shrub of dark blond goatee at the bottom of it, the only thing delicate about him.
The place had thinned out after the noon-to-two rush, and we asked for and were led to a corner booth in the nearly deserted far end of the restaurant.
"I'm glad you're here. I didn't think anybody was gonna call me back," Jackman said, "and that was starting to piss me off. I thought about calling the Republicans, but my dad was IUE, a shop steward, and he'd ream my ass if I helped out those management types."
"That's a union?"
"International Union of Electrical Workers. Dad had thirty-five years in at Schenectady GE when they shut down his division five years before he was set to retire. Now he works security at Sears during the week and Home Depot on weekends. Those aren't union shops, for sure, but Dad is still party all the way-campaigned for Obama, African-American no problem. So I can hear him screaming his head off if I even picked up the phone and dialed a Republican."
The waitress came over, and Jackman ordered a taco salad and an iced tea, and I said those also sounded good to me.
"I know Shy McCloskey has a lot of union endorsements," I said.
"Yeah, that's good. Glad to help out this guy."
"But I'm curious. What if the union endorsee had been the bad guy here? Would you still have exposed his bad behavior?"
"Sure, I would. What was done to Greg was pathetic. It was a sin, and it was a crime. The idea that a guy who would do a thing like that could be the governor makes me sick. So, I'd be pissed even if he was one of our guys."
"How was what Louderbush did a crime? You mean assault?"
"Sure. If I smacked you around even if it's just some roughhousing, if you said stop and I keep it up, that's assault.
Even just touching a person if it's unwanted is assaul
t."
"You know the law on this stuff."
"Yeah. I do. My sister's ex-husband. He used to hit her, and I tried to deal with him on my own. Big mistake. Just call the cops is what I should have done."
"So you have a record?"
"Expunged after one year. I learned my lesson."
The iced tea arrived. An elderly couple hobbled our way and planted themselves in the adjoining booth. "This catsup needs wiped off," the old lady told our waitress, who removed the offending Heinz container.
"So, tell me, Virgil. How did you know Greg Stiver? He was no union man from what I've read about him."
"I lived in the next-door apartment on Allen Street. I mean, Janie Insinger and I did. We broke up after she decided she was a lesbian, although now she's with a guy again. Some ex-marine. I thought about telling the guy Janie is gonna be nothing but trouble, but I'm dating now myself, and Kimberly says leave it alone, just stay out of it, and I'm sure she's correct. We ran into them one time at a club and everybody ignored each other."
"Janie also contacted the McCloskey campaign, as I guess you know."
"We aren't on speaking terms, but she left a message saying she was gonna call you guys, and I should, too. I was gonna anyways. Kenyon Louderbush has no business going around running for governor and acting like he's some nice guy with a wife and kids. Not after what he did to Greg Stiver."
"What did he do? Tell me what you saw and heard."
The old couple in the next booth were sitting silently and could have been listening to our every word, and Jackman leaned forward and said quietly but distinctly, "Louderbush would beat the shit out of Greg at least once a week. We didn't know Greg real well, but he gave Janie and I a ride to school on Mondays and Wednesdays, and if Louderbush was there the night before-and we could always hear the crashing around and the yelling-Greg would be all beat up the next day. He had a big bruise one time, and his lip was bleeding on another occasion that I remember. One time he asked me to drive his car because he said his head hurt so much he thought he might have a concussion. Janie and I 28
Red White and Black and Blue by Richard Stevenson both said, hey, you shouldn't let this guy get away with this; you don't deserve to be treated this way. And Greg would always say he didn't want to get the guy in trouble, and sometimes he'd laugh and say this is what he deserves for getting involved with a married man."
The old folks seated next to us seemed frozen in place, and were either studying the menu with fierce concentration or they were taking in everything Jackman said and would have an exciting time hashing it over later in the car.
"How did you know the identity of the man who visited Stiver and beat him?"
"We saw him in the hall lots of times, and I recognized him from the news. One time I even said to him, 'Hi Senator.' I wanted him to know I knew who he was, and I thought that might make him think twice before he beat up on Greg again.
But these guys think they own the world, and they can get away with anything they want."
"Louderbush is an assemblyman, not senator. Could you be confusing him with someone else?"
"No, we used to see him all the time on the eleven o'clock news. He was the guy who was always blah-blah-ing about taxes. Hey, I'm against taxes like anybody else. But how else are you going to pay for the fire department and so forth? Are we all supposed to put our own fire out?"
"And Greg acknowledged to you that he was in fact having an affair with Assemblyman Louderbush?"
"Yeah, when I said Janie and I recognized him, Greg was cool with that. He said don't tell anybody, that Louderbush would just deny it, but that Louderbush was his boyfriend.
Louderbush came to one of Greg's econ classes one time, and then he came onto him afterward, and they got started. Greg said he really admired the guy, and the fact that he was this big Republican was a real turn-on. I guess he thought Louderbush was attractive, too. I know if I was into guys, I wouldn't want some fifty-year-old old fart like that getting all over me."
"Sure."
"I'd want a young athlete. One time Janie and I tried a three-way with this college wrestler we met at a club, and that was kind of a turn-on for me. But the woman would've had to be there. Otherwise, what's the point?"
"How long did the relationship last between Louderbush and Stiver?"
"From fall till Greg killed himself in April. Greg was getting more and more upset and worried that he wasn't getting a teaching job or anything else coming down the pike. Then he had this asshole pounding on him every time Louderbush came over and they had a few drinks, and I guess he just cracked. You'd have to be pretty much at the end of your rope to get you to jump off of a building. I don't know how anybody could make themselves do that. It goes against all your instincts."
"So alcohol was an important part of the relationship between Stiver and Louderbush?"
"I think it was more Louderbush. He'd have to have a drink to loosen up, Greg said. Then they'd get it on, and then Louderbush would have another drink or two, and that's when he'd go off and get physical. At first, when we asked him 30
Red White and Black and Blue by Richard Stevenson about the crashing noises and the yelling, Greg would just say, no, there was no problem, that they just fell or something. Later on, he admitted what was really going on, and he said he tried to get Louderbush to cut it out. But he also said that deep down he was only getting what he needed. He said his old man beat him when he was a kid, and now apparently there was something in his psychology that made him like getting hurt by some man. He admitted that this was true."
"Was Greg in psychotherapy? It sounds as if he had some real understanding of why he put up with the way Louderbush treated him."
"Janie actually tried to get him to go, but he never would, I don't think."
The waitress arrived with our taco salads, and the old woman in the next booth said to her, "We would like to order now. We have been waiting for quite some time."
"Sorry. I'll be right with you."
"We got here before those two men did, and they already have their food."
The waitress, a squat, buxom young black woman, carefully ignored this. "I can take your order now. What would you like to order, ma'am?"
The couple proceeded to order eggs Benedict. The waitress explained that Denny's didn't have any of those, so then the couple decided to make do with a single grilled cheese sandwich served on two plates. After that was settled, I asked Jackman more questions.
"Both you and your former girlfriend have told the McCloskey campaign that you believe Kenyon Louderbush drove Greg Stiver to suicide. That's a serious charge to make against anybody. Stiver was a grown-up. He was free to make choices. He could have told Louderbush to take a hike.
He could even have called the police and charged Louderbush with assault. He could have done a lot of things to get out of the mess he was in. Louderbush did not in fact shove Stiver off that building. You can attest that this was an abusive relationship, but that's a far as you can go, I think, when it comes to pinning anything on Kenyon Louderbush.
"If you are going to go public with this-as Tom Dunphy says you're willing to do-you might want to describe what you saw and heard, and you can of course relay what Greg told you about the relationship. But you can expect people to challenge your contention that Louderbush drove Greg Stiver to take his own life- drove is the word you seem determined to use-and you'll have to be ready for disagreements and other interpretations coming at you from many directions.
And a lot of people who disagree with you are going to act very hostile."
Jackman was cracking off portions of taco shell and gathering up little heaps of meat, lettuce, sauce, and sour cream, and shoveling it all into his large face. Through a mouthful of this stuff, he said, "I saw the suicide note."
"You did? How?"
"It was on the kitchen table. Mrs. Pensivy, the landlady, let us into Greg's apartment before the police came over.
Somebody at SUNY called her. There wa
s a note in Greg's handwriting on the table, and it said, 'I hurt too much.'"
"That's all it said?"
"Janie started to cry. Mrs. Pensivy, too."
"It didn't mention Kenyon Louderbush?"
"It didn't have to."
"What happened to the note?"
"The cops must have taken it."
"Did anyone else see it?"
"I wouldn't think so."
"Did Mrs. Pensivy know about the abuse?"
"Not as far as I know. She lived next door with her sister."
"Who else knew about the beatings?"
Jackman mulled this over. "Greg never said. But other people must have figured it out. At school, or his family. You could see the marks and what have you. He had a big shiner one time. Janie gave him a cube steak to press against it."
"Did Greg ever seek medical treatment that you know of?"
"Just from Janie and I. The cube steak."
"I thought people only treated black eyes with steak in the comics. Dagwood, or Nancy and Sluggo."
A puzzled look. "What are those? You mean like in newspapers?"
"Yes."
"My granddad still reads the Times Union most of the time.
Sports and what have you."
I supposed the couple in the next booth could have explained what the funny papers used to mean in American life, but the old man and the old woman were busy staring 33
Red White and Black and Blue by Richard Stevenson intently at each other's sagging midsections, and I didn't break their reverie and bring them into our discussion.
Chapter Three
"And I was like, I have to say something, and Kev was like, no you don't have to say anything, just let Virgil do it, cuz nobody's going to give him any shit, cuz he's a guy. But it just didn't seem right that if I know about this guy, I should just let him get elected governor of New York, and anyway maybe he still beats up on people. He could, you know, go after some young guy who works in his office-put the moves on him and then beat on him the way he did with Greg. My conscience would bother me if I didn't speak out, although I don't want my name mentioned, and I think you can understand the reason why."
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