“All the Federales say, could have had him any day. . .”
TownesVan Zandt, Pancho and Lefty (1972)
Since posting Nightmare on Main Street, Part 2, readers with inquiring minds have wanted to know what the heck happened to Anita and Jay and Vinnie the Genius. It was even suggested that I write a happy ending for our forlorn heroes. Actually, that’s not such a bad idea.
In real life, I don’t get to script the outcomes of my clients’ momentous miscalculations. Usually the damage is done before I get involved and I am left to work out what we euphemistically call “settlements.” But lawyers are not without imaginations and I can invent as good an ending as most. So sit right back and you’ll hear a tale of a long strange trip. . .
The Case of the Bungled Bungalow and The Capture of Vinnie the Genius
We pick up where we left off. Anita and Jay’s charming little bungalow has been decimated. There’s rubble in kitchen, raccoons in the lumber, liens up to the windowsills and Anita. . .well, it seems they kept hearing “too many heartbeats” during her OB check ups, only to learn she was carrying twins!
If it hadn’t been for Jay’s dad and the Futures Markets, he and Anita would have likely spent the winter in a tent in their backyard. But dear old dad came through, took matters into his own hands and had the work on the house finished by a friend of a friend who he should have thought of to begin with. The babies’ room was done just in time for the arrival of the twins: John and Yoko.
All the time Anita was caring for those two little sweeties, she couldn’t stop thinking about Vinnie and how he had ripped them off. By the time the twins were 3 months old, powered by the raging postpartum hormones that accompany multiple births, Anita was ready to roll, ready to find that bastard Vinnie and make him pay if it was the last thing she did!
Finding the Jerk
It was not going to be easy. The phone number to AAAAAAA Aardvark Contracting, 800 RIP- UOFF, was disconnected. When she drove by the address given on Vinnie’s business card, she found a vacant lot abutting the Pepto-Bismol-pink facade of the two story block building with a sign reading, “Heavenly Massage Parlor.” That was all.
So Anita went to the police. Surely Vinnie was guilty of some crime. They agreed he had committed some variety of felony theft, fraud, embezzlement or some seamy combination thereof. But they would need proof of that and they would need to find the guy, so Anita’s pleas did not arouse much interest. “Call us if you have any proof or can find him, little lady,” Officer Friendly cooed as he escorted Anita ever so gently to the door. This made Anita’s ears burn.
For several months thereafter, Anita used every spare moment she could muster trying to find a lead that would bring her to Vinnie and bring Vinnie to justice. She scoured sites on the internet from Facebook to Match.com to the sex offender registries, all to no avail.
Getting Professional Help
Then one night while watching Sins and Psychics on cable, Anita and Jay were amazed by the astute and deadly accurate predictions of “Evelyn the Red” in helping the police locate perpetrators of violent crimes, primarily murderers. Admittedly, the theft of cash is not as serious a crime as murder, but it’s not insignificant either. If she could just persuade Evelyn the Red to take a few minutes to analyze her case, maybe, just maybe she would know where to look for Vinnie.
Anita had a much easier time finding Evelyn the Red than Vinnie the Genius. In fact, much to her surprise, Evelyn had earned a fine living and many accolades for her work as a psychic over the decades. Anita made an appointment, arranged for her mom to look after the twins and took a flight to Raton, New Mexico, where Evelyn lived. The only thing Anita had to show Evelyn was Vinnie’s business card, which, in addition to AAAAAAAardvark’s bogus address and phone number, had a big greasy thumb print on the back.
Upon her arrival at Evelyn’s townhouse, Anita was ushered in by a conservatively attired secretary, who took her coat and escorted her to the living room. It was there that she met the genuine article: a 75-year-old chain-smoking, red-haired mountain of a woman, clad in silver and turquoise everything, breathing raspily, ensconced in a double-wide La-Z-Boy recliner, watching reruns of Junkie Housewives of Alabama.
When presented with Vinnie’s business card, Evelyn placed it on her forehead, closed her eyes and began to speak. “This fellow. . .does he have a nickname. . .uh Vinnie the Gargoyle? No. Vinnie the Grease Monkey?. . .no. . .Hotwire Vinnie?. . . no. . .”
“Vinnie the Genius?” Anita volunteered. “That’s it!” cried Evelyn, who seemed to concentrate even harder, but without success. She shook her head. “Well now, I am drawing a blank after that. . .The Genius part must have been a joke. He doesn’t seem like the brightest bulb…” Evelyn trailed off.
“That’s all I can tell you,” Evelyn said. “Sorry to disappoint, but sometimes these things happen, especially when all I have is something as little as a business card. I wish I had something else with more Vinnie on it.”
“I’m afraid that’s all I have to give you,” Anita responded. “But thank you very much for your time,” feeling as though her last thread of hope had just been frayed to the breaking point. “I’ll be on my way.”
The secretary got Anita’s coat for her. But as she was about to leave, she heard Evelyn’s crackling voice. “Oh, Anita. One more thing.” Anita rushed back. “Tell me please.”
Evelyn lit one of her unfiltered Pall Malls, took a mighty puff, and, ringed by a smoky halo, said. “Okay. Your boy’s gone home. I understand it now. Just took me a minute. Strange things started to happen to him in Vero Beach. He got really sick on some HoJo food, started feeling weaker and weaker and decided he needed his mother. He’s been at her house since last March, lying low.
“Where’s his mother?” Anita squeaked.
“Oh, she owns the Heavenly Massage Parlor and lives on the second floor. That’s where you will find Vinnie.
Anita was flabbergasted. “Really? Are you sure?”
“Sure as I ever been. Have you heard of the Heavenly Massage Parlor, Anita?”
“Hell yes! I’ve been there,” Anita blurted. When she realized what she had just implied, Anita’s ears turned bright red and burned again. But she thanked Evelyn the Red profusely and promised to keep in touch.
When Anita arrived back in beautiful suburban Cleveland, the phone in the bungalow was ringing off the hook. It was Evelyn.
“After you left, I started getting these images of all these people. Then images of Vinnie. Then more people. Then more Vinnie. Anita, I think Vinnie has a lot more victims than you. I think he may use different disguises to do this and probably goes by more names than Vinnie the Genius. He may have created some evil corporate entities along the way, too. Also, for some reason, I keep seeing all these Lincoln Navigators driving around on sand dunes. I don’t get it.”
Going Stealth
When Jay arrived home with the twins moments later, Anita told him all that Evelyn had said. Knowing how the entire travesty had affected Anita, Jay wanted to take no chances with this new information. I’m going to cruise by the Heavenly Massage Parlor tonight, to see if I see Vinnie.”
Later that evening, Jay, dressed like OJ the night he stabbed Nicole, crossed the railroad tracks just north of the Heavenly Massage Parlor. The place was hopping. As despondent and deserted as the building looked in the light of day, it glowed at midnight. There must have been 30 cars in the lot; the music was blaring.
Jay drove right past the HMP and doubled back further south, then parked across the street, about half a block away. He had been sitting there with his binoculars for over two hours when the scoundrel showed his face. He was coming down the back staircase from the living quarters. Wearing black, he slipped into a black Mazda something-or-other clone car and drove off into the night.
Jay did not give chase. He had the license plate number, which was what he needed.
The next morning, Anita and Jay returned to the police station and asked for Officer Friendly, who wasn’t. They filed a criminal complaint, along with Vinnie’s mother’s address, accompanied by a description of the car, its plate number and a physical description of Vinnie, right down to his black outfit.
After making a copy, Anita turned over Vinnie’s business card with the greasy thumb print on the back.“Thank you, little lady, “ Officer Friendly crowed. He ran the license plate number that Jay had copied down but the car had been reported stolen several months earlier. “We still have the thumb print,” Officer Friendly said. “I’ll run this print through the Automated Fingerprint Identification System and see if we get a hit. If anything turns up, I’ll give you a call.”
When Anita and Jay left the police station, they felt an inevitable let down. The world did not drop everything to help them after their revelation. Vinnie was still at large. Life had to go on.
All Tied Up!
Several weeks went by without a word. On April Fools’ Day, the phone rang. It was Officer Friendly. “You know that guy you called Vinnie the Genius? That ain’t his real name. The thumb print on the business card was a match to William Leslie MacGregor, aka, ‘Billy the Rat’ Cardozo. He was the head honcho of a car theft ring that went from the shores of Lake Erie to the coastline near Vero Beach, Florida and overseas to Saudi Arabia. He sold enough stolen Lincoln Navigators over there to fill a dealership. He apparently just did home remodeling ripoffs when he was between shipments.”
Two years and a 6-week jury trial later, wherein he fired his lawyers and represented himself, Vinnie/Billy was sentenced to122 years in federal prison for violations of federal racketeering statutes.
There is no parole from federal prison. One hundred twenty-two years means what it says. Seriously. Remember that little tidbit before you decide to go out and commit any federal crimes.
Vinnie/Billy’s mom, Mary Magdalene MacGregor the Masseuse, was heart-broken. She died only 3 months after Billy went to prison. The Heavenly Massage Parlor was demolished. In the rubble was a found a suitcase containing gold in the form of South African Krugerrands, worth just under a million bucks.
Turns out Vinnie the Genius/Billy the Rat was not as stupid as once believed. He didn’t trust banks. As a result, he saved up Krugerrands beginning in the 80s. The value of a single one-ounce Krugerrand on today’s market is just under $1,800.
Anita and Jay finally got to sue the bastard. Turns out, Billy/Vinnie had taken advantage of so many people, the suit their lawyer filed in court was certified as a class action. The gold from the suitcase was liquidated and a receiver was appointed to administer the funds, who eventually paid all the claims in full.
With the blessing of Jay’s dad, Anita and Jay used the money they recovered from the Krugerrand stash to finance John and Yoko’s musical educations and graduation trip to Abbey Road.
So they all lived happily ever after and finally let it be.
Image Credits:
Bungled bungalow: Chris Sharp / FreeDigitalPhotos.net
John and Yoko: David Castillo Dominici / FreeDigitalPhotos.net
Vinnie: imagerymajestic / FreeDigitalPhotos.net
Leather glove: Image: Keattikorn / FreeDigitalPhotos.net
Prison: Arvind Balaraman / FreeDigitalPhotos.net
Karen L. Stewart is a 1986 graduate of the University of Louisville Brandeis School of Law, a former staff attorney in the U.S. Bankruptcy Court and an experienced civil litigator in both trial and appellate work. She is licensed to practice law in Kentucky and Wisconsin and in several federal jurisdictions.
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