SATURDAY STORY - RUBEN - PART II

 SATURDAY STORY - RUBEN - PART II

This is a continuation of last week’s Saturday Story.  Where I was scared of my neighbor Ruben, but how (through illness), he somehow became part of my family.  

Last week, my Dad and I ended up finding a secret room full of boxes.

*****

Vladimir and Sergei had scoped out Ruben’s house. They knew that the poison had worked and that he was convalescing in our (neighboring) house. They had placed listening bugs around the house and knew that my Dad and I had found something in the house, but didn’t know what it was or where it was.  

But, Vladimir and Sergei had long since retired but were still on the case.  They suspected gold, maybe even gems, jewelry, journals, and propaganda for the republican views in Russia.  They figured they could sell the second things to the current administration, but keep the first.  Sure, they were both in their 80s - Vladimir at 82 and Sergei at age 80, but they thought they were up to the task of finding Ruben.  

The truth was that too much vodka, too many cigarettes, too many hours sitting on their butts had deteriorated their skills as spies. They were the bad thugs from a “B” movie.

Waiting until about 2 in the morning, they parked their rented gray Honda Fit on the street in front of Ruben’s house.  They learned of Ruben’s location about two years ago and had worked on a plan to get his treasure. They didn’t know what treasure Ruben had but they knew he had been on a shortlist of agents that somehow slipped out of Russia.  It had taken some time (and some bribes) to get a passage to the United States.  Their English was reasonable, but they hadn’t practiced in such a long time, that skill was diminished. 

Arriving in New York, they didn’t quite realize that Keokuk Iowa was hard to get to.  There was no direct airline, so they flew into Davenport Iowa, and rented a car.  Once in Keokuk, they found a one-bedroom apartment and started their surveillance of Ruben.  After all, who is going to notice two elderly men with strong Russian accents hanging around a pretty quiet neighborhood in small-town Iowa?

But, that wasn’t good enough.  Mae Singletary was the neighborhood’s busybody.  Her house was across the street from Ruben’s house, and like others, she suspected him of being a spy, or a drug dealer, or some dissident in some government protection program.  He never had visitors and was rarely outside.  She had seen me shovel his driveway and saw Ruben visiting our house from time-tot-time. She had tried to know him and had stopped by his door a few times, seeing if he would donate to the cancer association or some other cause.  But, Ruben didn’t participate and nicely, but firmly said ‘no’ to her attempts.  

She had introduced herself as the neighbor across the street, but Ruben knew that.  He held his tongue and didn’t reply that she was the neighborhood busybody. When she had been looking at his house, he had also been watching her!!!  

And, Mae Singletary knew that Ruben was at our house and my Mom was taking care of him for some ailment.  She had called our house and my Mom wisely decided to let it go to voice mail.  

She had seen the tan Honda parked at various locations up and down Grand Avenue as well as the side streets at various times in the past week, and always with the same two elderly-looking men. She watched one night recently when she was sure that Ruben was staying with us, and she thought she saw a flashlight. But, she didn’t see it again, and with a thunderstorm, she decided it must have been some lightning flashing off the windows.

And, she had missed the afternoon where the two were dressed as electricians and in a “borrowed” pane vane, put the listening devices in the house.  That was also the time they put a small amount of arsenic in Ruben’s salt shaker.  But, even busybodies have to have time off for their bridge club.  (And, you can only imagine what Mae Singletary knew about the members of that group and she could drop the best gossip!!!)

When she got up to use the restroom at 2:15 a.m. she saw a car in front of Ruben’s house and watched a flashlight flickering through one of Ruben’s windows and through the overgrowth of trees.  Not wanting to go back to bed, she watched a little longer and was sure there were crooks in the foreboding house - and being a busybody, she called our house.  This woke my mother and it took a few minutes for Mom to remember Mae Singletary.  When Mom was fully awake, Mae gave the details (for the third time).  Mom knew that Ruben was asleep upstairs. After thanking Mae for her help, she went up to the ‘pear bedroom’ to see how Ruben was.  He was asleep and snoring loudly.  That bedroom was the only one that really looked out at Ruben’s house - and she saw it too - a flashlight beam moving in his house.  Sneaking back out of the pear bedroom, she called 911 to report a burglary next door at 401 Grand Avenue.  She put on a robe and stepped out into the night to meet the police.

[For my readers, the pear bedroom was rarely used.  In the fall, we would pick all the pears off our pear tree, and put them on papers on the floor for the pears to ripen.]

The police were quick and arrived in about four minutes.  Mom stood in the street to meet them.  The gray Honda Fit was directly in front of the house.  Two cops got out of their squad car in front of our house.  They preferred not to park next to their vehicle.  Mike Schmidt seems to be the patrolman in charge and Mom filled him in with what little she knew.  The neighbor across the street thought somebody was in the house (and Mae Singletary had called the police enough times with prank calls, that calling my Mom was a smarter thing.

One of the cops with his gun drawn went to the backdoor of Ruben’s house, and the other, also with his gun drawn, went to the front door.  As they watched, they could see a flashlight beam moving in the house.  Yes, the house had visitors in it, and the visitors were trying not to turn on the light switches.  After a few minutes of watching, Mike knocked so loudly it might have woken Ruben if he had been at home, but he was sound asleep next door.

The house went dark, the flashlight was turned off.  Mike Schmidt, the cop at the front door, knocked again, and then tried the doorknob - and it was open.  He pushed the door open and shined his megawatt flashlight into the room.  The room looked empty, except for a shoe sticking out behind a sofa - that was attached to a leg.  He radioed for backup.  He texted his partner, Steven Larson, to come in from the back door and to make a lot of noise.  

As Steve came into the living room, Mike said loudly, “There doesn’t seem to be anybody here”, while silently pointing to the shoe sticking out from behind the sofa.  “Maybe they are upstairs.  They made enough noise going to the base of the staircase to the second floor and paused, with Steve continuing to the second floor, and Mike slipping back into the living room.

They didn’t have to wait long.  Sergei said quietly to Vladimir something in Russian.  Mike thought the word ‘toilette’ was in that comment.  “Yes”, he said to himself, “this is going to work out.’  He thought - one of these guys needs the bathroom!!!

Steven was upstairs by now, trying to make enough noise for two people, and holding a loud conversation as if between two people.

Here is the gist of Steven’s conversation himself so loud to confuse the two thugs that they both were upstairs.

Steven’s voice #1 “Darn it, Mike, I think they must have slipped out”;

Steven’s voice #2.: “You’re right Steve.  There doesn’t seem to be any signs that anybody was here” (although there were drawers and closets open).  “Probably just neighborhood kids”.

Steven’s Voice 1:  “I’ll go check the bathroom, why don’t you come with me”.  Again, Steven made the sound of two people going towards the back of the house towards the upstairs bathroom.

Meanwhile, Mike was prepared.  He had his flashlight in his hand to shine in the crook’s eyes and blind them.  He had heard the sound of a car pulling up in front, probably his backup.  A text appeared on his phone “We’re here”.  

He heard some stirring and in the dim light could see the foot behind the sofa pulled up and then a body stood up from that spot.  At the other end of the sofa, another body stood up.

Turning on the megawatt flashlight he shined it directly in their eyes.  He quickly did a scan and didn’t see guns in their hands, or bulges in their pockets.  It wasn’t a sure thing and he made sure they were good and blinded.  He had held the flashlight off on his left side, just in case they had guns and would shoot at the flashlight.  

He yelled “Come out with your hands up”, and they obeyed that command.  Roger and Elaine came rushing in from the second squad car with their guns out, and Steven came downstairs.  

Mike said, “I think there are only two.  Cuff them”. Steven turned on the regular lights and they saw two elderly thugs with black masks standing behind the sofa with their hands up.

Elaine came up and put the handcuffs on them.  She asked, “Do you understand English?” The men answered “Yes”, but with heavy Russian accents.  

Mike said “Gentlemen, you are under arrest for burglary.  “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand the rights I have just read to you? With these rights in mind, do you wish to speak to me?”

Neither Vladimir nor Sergei said anything, so Mike directed the cops from the second car to take them to the Police Station.

Roger and Elaine escorted the two out of the room and out to the police car, after checking for weapons.  In Sergei's pocket, they found car keys.  Neither one had any identification, but with a rental car, and interrogation they would be identified pretty quickly.  

Mike and Steven took their time to inspect the house.  Yes, drawers and closets were open, but there didn’t seem to be anything missing.  They checked behind the sofa in case they had dropped anything.  But, they didn’t find anything.

But, in their inspection, they found the listening devices - this was getting to be an interesting case.  There were five in the house.  One was In in the front room/living room; the second was in the dining room, the third in the kitchen, the fourth was in the downstairs bathroom, and the fifth was in the upstairs hallway.  

When Roger and Elaine left in their squad car with the two thugs, Mae Singletary went back to bed, and Mom and I also went back to bed.  We would wait until morning for the next steps.

*****

Meanwhile, at the Police Station, Vladimir and Sergei weren’t doing much talking.  They had insisted they were Russian citizens and were just visiting an old Russian friend.  They demanded a lawyer and somebody that could translate English to Russian and Russian to English. 

And, their fingerprints came back negative from the domestic databases but got matches in the CIA and Interpol fingerprint databases, and they were Vladimir and Sergei and they had quite a history - although nothing for the last eighteen years.  These two birds had come out of retirement to run this caper.  Roger got to start the interrogation.  Were they acting alone, or as part of some official governmental project.

Vladimir had some deep scars on his face, and Sergei was totally bald.  Not only did their fingerprints match the international databases, but their pictures did too.  Except they were both about 15 to 20 years older than their last pictures and about 20 pounds heavier.  Checking their pockets they found a rent receipt from Roberta Lantern on Concert Street.  They would get a search warrant to check that apartment the next day.  The night captain was Joe Oswald and Joe knew Roberta and that would help ease that part of the investigation in the morning.

The next two hours were spent at a much higher level than the Keokuk, Police Department.  An assistant at the State Department and another assistant at the Central Intelligence association were talking to their counterparts in Russian.

And both sides were wondering why two Russian retired agents broke into a house on a quiet street in Keokuk, Iowa

<to be continued>