Frank was getting things ready for his friends Lori and Richard Gordon to arrive for their weekly card game. Once they arrive the three spend the night laughing and playing poker.
Lori says to Richard “Honey, I would never have married you if I’d known you’d be gambling all our money away.”
“Yeah” Frank says. “You owe me two dollars. Payment in full please.”
Lori was sitting across from Frank and she slowly started running her foot up and down his leg. Without showing any reaction, Frank started dealing the cards. Richard was unaware of this flirting going on between his wife and his best friend. After a few more hands at cards, Richard crushes out his cigarette and turns to Lori to say “Well Lori my dear wife who will leave me over two dollars, are you ready? I have an early call tomorrow. Thank you Frank for the nice evening,”
As Lori gets ready to leave she turns to Frank and says “Bye Frank, I’ll see you Tuesday. What time is your appointment?”
“Ten in the morning.” Frank answers.
“OK, I’ll pick you up at 9;30.” she said.
After Lori and Richard leave, Frank heads to his bedroom and opens a drawer then removes some Polaroid photos which he examines closely. He masturbates himself to completion while looking at them, replaces the photos in the drawer then heads for the bathroom where he starts filling the bathtub with steaming water. After he undresses, he grabs his pocketknife which he sharpened earlier, then steps in the tub where he proceeded to castrate himself. After dropping his genitals on the floor, he sat down in the hot water and waited till his torment was over, ending his temptations.
Some days later I’m standing outside of Frank’s apartment waiting for Lori and Richard to arrive when someone calls out my name. I turn to see a middle aged couple approaching.
“Lori?’ I ask.
“Yes, thanks for coming out so quickly. This is my husband Richard.”
We make our introductions.
I ask Lori if she brought her keys as we prearranged because the landlord couldn’t be there. She handed them to me. I told her the landlord asked me to hold on to them and he’d make arrangements to get them from me later.
“I won’t be needing them anymore” she said.
As we’re entering Franks apartment, Richard says he’ll be right in after finishing his cigarette. Lori and I enter. She tells me Richard has been taking Frank’s death pretty hard. They served in Vietnam together and Frank was Richard’s Best Man at their wedding.
“Where was he found?” I ask her.
“I found him in the bathtub. It was horrible! I ran out screaming. I came by to pick him up for a doctor’s appointment. He didn’t have a car so I’d help him out every once in awhile with shopping and appointments.”
“He wasn’t that old. Was he sick?” I ask.
“No, not physically anyhow. I was told he castrated himself while he sat in the tub till he bled to death.” she said through teary eyes.
“That’s horrible. I’m sorry to hear that. I didn’t see anything in the police report saying that.” I say. When I told her I’ve encountered this a few times before, she was surprised to hear that. I told her I think one of the other guys was also a veteran. We were wondering if PTSD played a role. She didn’t think self-mutilation was that common. It reminded me about a German man who advertised on an S&M website to have someone castrate him. Another man took him up on the offer. After the man was castrated, he too sat in a tub to bleed to death but before he died, the other man cooked the genitals and together they ate it.
Lori and I head for the bedroom where I start going through the papers in the dresser drawers. I stop when I come across photos of Lori and Frank in all kind of sexual poses. We were both embarrassed by the predicament. I ask her if she would like to have them.
“Thank you. Richard doesn’t know.” she said in a hushed voice after slipping them in her purse just in time for Richard to walk in.
“Finding everything you need?” he asks me.
I hold up a bank statement showing about a five thousand balance and tell them I’ll need to verify the date of death balance and if any beneficiary is listed before any funeral arrangements can be made.
“He didn’t have much.” Richard said. He got Social Security and a small pension but that’s it for his income.”
“How long before you hear back from the bank?” Lori asks.
I tell them that two weeks is usually enough time for most banks to respond. Lori tells me that if anyone is named as the beneficiary it would be her or Richard since he has nobody else.
“Well let’s hope it’s you. It would make things a lot easier for all of us.” I tell them.
They ask what if there is a beneficiary named that turns out to be a long lost relative? I answer that if the relative can be found, then the money would be theirs to do what they want with it. “They don’t have to use the money for burial.”
“What! They don’t have to bury? That’s not right!” they said.
I tell Lori and Richard there is no law saying they have to. They could go to Las Vegas and gamble it away if they want. I know it’s not fair. There’s a moral obligation to do the right thing but nothing to prevent otherwise. I’ve seen it happen many times. One time I was told by a beneficiary that the decedent told her to go spend it on something fun and not on his funeral which is exactly what she did.
“No! Who buried the guy then?” they asked.
“The taxpayers. You and me. What can you do? But anyhow in Frank’s case, if there are no funds available the Veterans Administration will bury him if he was honorably discharged.”
“He was. Good to know we have a Plan B and please let us know as soon as possible.”
As we leave the apartment, Lori turns to me and patting her purse, she mouths the words “Thank you.”
Almost a few weeks have past when one morning as I’m sitting at my desk, my phone rings. I answer
“Oh hi Lori. …No, not yet. ….Still haven’t heard from the bank yet but once I do I’ll be sure to notify you. …Yes I know you’re concerned. …It hasn’t been two weeks yet so we have a few more days. …Well if you and Richard want you can make the funeral arrangements and pay for them yourself with the hope of getting reimbursed later from any money he may have but there’s a chance he may not have any. …OK. …I don’t blame you. …As soon as I know, you’ll know. …Thanks Lori, Bye.
After hanging up with her I turn to Vic whose been listening.
“Nine times out of ten the friends change their mind about paying upfront for the funeral once I tell them there’s a chance they won’t be reimbursed.” I tell Vic.
“Oh I know. People act all concerned but when it comes down to money, they play a different tune, as they say, and I don’t blame them.” Vic said.
“Like my Grandfather used to say ‘Why make the undertaker rich?’ In fact I checked out what’s involved with donating my body to one of those body farms. Have you heard of them?”
“Body farms? What is that?” he asks.
“They’re run by forensic scientists who’ll take a donated corpses and place them in different environments so they could be monitored for forensic purposes. For instance they’ll have a corpse half submerged in water and the other half in the sun then monitor the decomposition process.”
“Never heard of that.” he said.
“Sure. It’s an actual farm fenced in but instead of crops being harvested, it’s corpses. Pretty cool, huh?” I ask.
“Really? And you want to wind up there?”
“Why not? It’s for a worthy cause however there is a waiting list and transportation costs involved so on second thought, maybe county burial for me.”
Vic laughs.
At this point Malika enters the office. “Good morning guys.”
“Good morning Malika. You’re always a vision of beauty to behold this early in the morning.” I say.
“Blow me” she says as she settles at her desk. “By-the-way. Who’s handling the Frank Mack case? The guy who castrated himself.”
“I am, why?” I ask.
“We got the bank response back yesterday. Want to see who he listed as the beneficiary?” she asked as she handed me the banks letter.
“Of course, I just now got off the phone with his friend.” I say as I look at the bank letter.
“Huh? You serious?” I ask as I read who the beneficiary is.
“Tell me about it. I had to call the bank directly to verify the info was correct.” Malika said.
I hand the letter to Vic who starts chuckling after reading it too.
“I’ll go ask Dick if there’s anything that can be done.” I say.
“Please do. I was too embarrassed to ask him myself yesterday.” Malika said.
Once I enter our attorney Dick’s office, I explain that we got a bank response showing an obvious fictitious name and not a person that really exists as beneficiary. I asked him if we could still access the money because this is his only asset and need the funds for burial. He told me no. Even if a person names Mickey Mouse as a beneficiary, nothing can be done about it.
Back at my desk I tell the others that nothing can be done.
“Too bad. Banks shouldn’t be allowing such things in the first place.” Malika said.
“What a shame. I guess I’ll have to break the news to the friend.” I say as I dial Lori’s phone number while Vic and Malika listen.
“Hi Lori, Phil here. I just found out that the bank responded yesterday and informed us that the account has a beneficiary listed after all and it’s not you or Richard so the account is unattainable. …No, I don’t think you’d know this person Lori. …I don’t think you’ll know. …OK, well the name listed is somebody called Lori SugaryCunt. …Lori SugaryCunt. …Do you know of such a person? ….OK, sorry. …I’ll call the Veterans. ….hello?. …Lori?”
After hanging up I look up and say “Why would he do something like that? How’s she going to explain that to her husband?”
“Think it was a pet name?” Malika asks.
“I wonder what she called him?” Vic asked grinning.
I tell Malika and Vic about a case I worked years ago on “Skid Row” in one of those SRO buildings. During the investigation I kept getting interrupted by an annoying neighbor of the decedent. He kept pestering me with stupid questions so I finally told him to please go away and told the manager who was there to close the door. A few moments later the neighbor returned with his checkbook in hand. He showed me one of his checks and asked whose name appears on that checking account? The name on the check said “The President.” He looked at me and said I was not dealing with some average person but he is a rather important man, so there. I was surprised that the bank would allow him to do that. It wasn’t too long after that I was back at that SRO to go through the now deceased “President’s” junk filled room. The day I did this was ironically Inauguration Day.