Bruce Wagner - Memorial

LA’s finest shot the shit about a breed they called the lowest of the low: those who prey on the elderly. For a moment, the topic’s irony was tacitly noted — afterall, this was a group of men Ray had met under circumstances that might, in a stretch, be so classified — with the faintest nod of the collective’s bent for black humor. The motorcycle cop spoke of a 90 year old who died in the act of fellating her attacker — which he forced her to do after slitting her throat — while he sat on the washing machine eating a sandwich. Before he left the house the guy impaled Granny on some gardening shears and stole the money she’d saved for her own funeral. Another fellow — a WW2 vet — was nearly beaten to death by his dopefiend neighbor. The hospital released him a week later when Medicare ran out; the orderlies literally shoved him in a taxi with a catheter strapped to his leg. The driver half carried him into the house, where an hour later the dopefiend beat him again. This time he died from his injuries.

“I don’t know,” said one of the cops, with mock skepticism. “Sounds like Death-by-Celebrex.”

“Oh, we get the sophisticated ones on the West Side,” said Detective Whitsell, Staniel’s friend from the Academy. “None of that meth-lab trailer trash you guys have to deal with. We’re chasing a gang now who gotta thing going you wouldn’t believe. It’s essentially a lottery scam — we call em the Blind Sister Crew. They just grabbed a million dollars off the sweetest old lady you’ll ever meet. She took a pretty good beating from em too, which was unusual. I mean, these guys are ferocious. Terrorized her just for jollies. But they’re amazing. Talk about imaginative, I’m impressed!”

“You sound like you want to spread for em.”

“Yeah, right after you — I got dibs on the washing machine. But before you blow me, make me a sandwich, will you?”

“How about pork?”

There was laughter all around and Whitsell continued.

“They had to wire her jaw.”

“She can’t open her mouth? Cancel that sandwich.”

More laughter.

“They walk right in the bank with seriously forged papers. They claim to be hooked up with Pataki and Bloomberg, and make sure their marks check out the Town Cars they ride around in — they all have chauffeurs. I mean, these guys could write bestsellers. Da Vinci Code shit. Their scams are so convoluted, the department’s in fucking awe. Have you ever seen any movies by David Mamet? He’s pretty good. Kinda unrealistic, but pretty good. He has a show on cable called The Unit?”

“I got your unit right here.”

“Your dragqueen snitches already told me it’s nothin to write home about.

“I seen that show. It’s good.”

“Entertaining. He writes plays and does movies too. The Heist? I think he wrote Scarface. Naw — something else. Anyway, he did — what’s it called? — I’m blanking — most his movies are about people getting short-conned. Well, these ‘Blind Sisters’ could give Mamet a run for his money. I’m telling you, if they knocked on my door, I might fall for their shit. And the horrible thing is, I just got a call there was a fire over there. At her place — the old lady’s.”

“No shit,” said Staniel.

“Did she burn?”

“Naw, she’s all right.”

“It was the crew? The people that shook her down?”

“We don’t have evidence of that. At this point, I’m not sure I’d be surprised.”

“That’s evil.”

“Nice house too— nice little house. She wasn’t hurt. Had a nurse staying with her. Everybody woke up.”

“Fires tend to do that.”

“Or not.”

“If you don’t have a smoke detector.”

“Our African-American friends tend not to.”

“Where there’s smokes, there’s fire.”

“Racist motherfucker.”

“Blow me.”

“I told you, 1st make me that Maytag sandwich.”

“So they had a little barbecue?”

“House is torched. They pulled her from the bedroom. She’s OK. Shaken up though.”

“Tell me about it.”

The men slipped into simpatico mode.

“On top of everything, they had to use wirecutters cause she was hyperventilating.”

“Jesus.”

“At least now Ma Clampett could give you some acton.”

“You’re evil.”

“Diet Coke evil.”

“Her money stolen, beat up, jaw wired, house burned. Not exactly the Golden Years.”

“More like the Golden Shower Years.”

“Hey now! We’re not talking about what you do with one of your hookers — we’re talking about a sweet little old lady.”

“Think it’s arson?”

“ATF’s all over it. We’re not even close to ending our fraud investigation.”

“ ‘The Blind Sisters.’ Got a nice ring to it.”

“Hey meester,” said the motorcycle cop. “Wanna fuck my blind seester?”

More laughter.

“Kinda makes you wonder,” said Whitsell, “what they’d have been capable of if they applied all that energy to something positive.”

“ HIV positive.”

“Yeah. Makes you all wistful.”

“Seriously. These guys could have been CEOs.”

“Right. Too bad. They could’ve founded Halliburton.”

“They coulda come up with the iPod.”

“Or built special washing machines for blowjobs.”

“Only thing is, if they were CEOs…their rapsheets would probably be twice as fucking long!”

They laughed uproariously and tucked into their steaks.

Ray flagged the waiter for another round of drinks.

In consideration of the payment to me of the sum of EIGHTY-FIVE THOUSAND NINE HUNDRED AND 00/100 ($85,900), I do hereby release and forever discharge GlobalWorld Productions Inc., a Nevada corporation, and its boards, officers, agents, servants and employees from any and all claims and causes of action which I now have, or may hereafter have, on account of injuries sustained resulting from or arising out of an accident which occured on 04/14/06, at 4891 Glen Oaks Way, as particularly described in Claim File No. D7-49117.

For said consideration and as a further inducement to GlobalWorld Productions Inc. to enter into this compromise settlement, I further agree: that this release shall apply to all unknown and unanticipated injuries and damages resulting from or arising out of said accident as well as to injuries and damages now known, disclosed or anticipated; that I have executed this release upon my judgment and that of my own physician and not in reliance upon any statement or representation by any employee, representative or physician representing or purporting to represent GlobalWorld Productions Inc., concerning the nature and extent of my bodily injury or injuries or the nature and extent of my damages or the legal liability therefore; and that I expressly waive the benefits of the provisions of Section 1542 of the Civil Code, which reads as follows: A general release does not extend to claims which the creditor does not know or suspect to exist in his favor at the time of executing the release, which if known by him must have materially affected his settlement with the debtor.

I further understand and agree; that this release is not to be used as evidence of an admission of liability for the damages alleged and described in said Council File No. D7-49117 filed with the City Clerk of the City of Los Angeles; that said payment by GlobalWorld Productions Inc. or by any of its officers or employees is the sole consideration for this release, and is in full settlement and satisfaction of my said Claim File No. D7-49117 and in full satisfaction of all other claims and causes of action which I may now have against GlobalWorld Productions Inc.; that there are no agreements or promises not expressed herein; that the terms of this release are contractual; and that whenever the singular is used herein it includes the plural.