Slice and Dice (24 page)

M:
Are you still in contact with her?

Rapson:
No. Last time I saw Connie was in 1974.

M:
What were the living arrangements like for the staff?

Rapson:
Well, like I said, I lived above the garage. The two maids and the cook had rooms on the third floor. Nothing very fancy.

M:
Did Nathan have his own room?

Rapson:
No, there were no provisions for that. There were only three bedrooms up on third, and one bath. It was pretty tight quarters, but I think Connie was grateful to have a place to live. She got room and board and a salary. Compared to what she’d been doing before —

M:
What was that?

Rapson:
She’d been sharing a tiny apartment with her best friend, her best friend’s husband, and their little girl. It wasn’t a good situation. Connie had done just about everything you could think of to make money. She worked as a maid in a hotel, a waitress at a cafe on Lyndale. She took care of other people’s kids. Worked at a dry cleaner s, a drugstore. She was even a receptionist at a beauty shop for a while. Most of the positions ended because of child-care problems. She didn’t have any relatives in the city, and when her friend couldn’t baby-sit, she’d have to stay at home with Nathan. When that happened too often, she’d get canned.

M:
What was the bestfriend s name?

Rapson:
Let me think. (Scratches his beard) Beverly. Beverly and Tom … Custerson. I remember because I dated Peggy Custerson shortly before I met Connie. Turns out, Peggy and Tom were cousins.

M:
Are you still in touch with this Peggy?

Rapson:
As a matter of fact, I am.

M:
Would you mind asking her where her cousin and his wife are living now? I’d like to talk to Beverly if at all possible.

Rapson:
Sure, no problem. Peggy’s a real family person. If anyone would know, she would.

M:
Back to Nathan. Did he find it hard living in one bedroom with his mother?

Rapson:
I suppose so. He never said anything, though. He wasn’t the kind of kid who complained.

M:
Did the Buckridges allow him the run of the house?

Rapson:
Well, he was in school most of the day. Summers were the biggest problem. Things started out okay. He and Paul even played together. But Nathan was bigger, older. Paul would get pushed over or knocked down and he’d start to cry. Eventually Pepper laid down the law and said she didn’t want them playing together any longer. Like I said, Iliked Pepper, but I will say she was kind of a snob. She thought of Connie and Nathan as low class, uneducated and basically dumb. I’m sure she viewed all the help that way. That kind of thinking has always seemed silly to me. On the other hand, anyone who says we don’t have a class system in this country isn’t living in the real world. Anyway, I was able to ignore it, but it hurt Connie. And I know it upset Nathan terribly. All of a sudden, one day he was no longer allowed in the pool or the gazebo or on the swing set or the beach. And the dock, where he loved to feed the sunfish, was off limits, too. There was a park about three blocks away and that s where he was supposed to play when he wanted to be outdoors. Indoors, he was pretty much confined to the bedroom.

M:
That seems rather draconian.

Rapson:
It was.

M:
Did he have a TV to watch?

Rapson:
Connie couldn’t afford one. I think she had a radio. He listened to that a lot. And he read. I’ve never seen a kid read as much as he did. When hefirst came, he was a lot more happy-go-lucky. As time went on, he withdrew. But then when Pepper started having all those physical problems —

M:
When was that?

Rapson:
The summer of ‘63,1 think. Yes, I remember because Connie had just taken over as the new cook The old one got another job or something. I don’t really know all the details of what was wrong with Pepper, Ijust know she started seeing a lot of doctors. I used to drive her into the city when she didn’t feel up to driving herself. By fall, she rarely ever drove herself anymore.

M:
Do you think she was feigning illness just to get her husband’s attention?

Rapson:
(Looks puzzled) That never occurred to me. He did work long hours, but no, I think the woman was ill. Not that the doctors were much help.

M:
You were about to make a comment about Nathan.

Rapson:
Yes, well, when Pepper wasn’t around to keep an eagle eye on the house, Nathan did use the pool a few times. I even found him sitting in the family room one afternoon watching TV. Pepper was having one of her spells that day and was in bed upstairs. After it became apparent that she couldn’t take care of Paul, she hired a series of nannies, but none of them lasted more than a month. That meant his daily care fell to the staff. Connie took the most interest in him. He’d sit in the kitchen and play while she prepared the meals. I think she really liked the little guy. Since Pepper was in bed upstairs most of the day, Nathan began to play with Paul again — mainly, I think, as a way to entertain him and get him out of the staff s hair so that they could do their jobs. A nd that meant, of course, that Nathan once again had the run of the house.

M:
I get the impression that Wayne didn’t have much to say about the home situation.

Rapson:
No, he left that up to Pepper. And as Pepper had more bad days, Connie sort of took over as head of the household. It wasn’t official or anything, but someone had to make the decisions. Actually, I remember a couple of occasions when I came back from town in the evening and saw Connie and Wayne sitting in the living room together having a glass of wine. Everyone else was in bed.

M:
Are you suggesting that she and her employer had something other than a business relationship?

Rapson:
No, because I don’t know it for a fact. Then again I couldn’t exactly ignore the way Wayne looked at her. I mean, I knew what was in his mind. But you can’t fault a guy for looking. Wayne was really at loose ends right around that time. He didn’t have much of a marriage because Pepper was always sick in bed. A man has needs, you know.

M:
And Connie was only too willing to supply those needs.

Rapson:
You’ve got the wrong idea about Connie, Ms. Damontraville. She wasn’t after Wayne Buckridge. She wasn’t after any guy, especially one who was old enough to be her father.

M:
But she might have been after his money.

Rapson:
(Shakes his head) I don’t believe it. She wasn’t that kind ofwoman. I grant you, she did marry him eventually.

M:
Fairly soon after Pepper s death.

Rapson:
It was almost a year, but you’ve made your point. Perhaps their friendship had turned into something more, though I don’t fault either of them for it. It probably just happened. It s just. .. I never once had the sense that Connie was in love with Wayne.

M:
Not even when they were about to be married?

Rapson:
(Hesitates) I’m getting in way over my head here.

M:
The question is still on the table.

Rapson:
No, I don’t think she loved him. But I also don’t think she married him for his money.

M:
Then what reason would she have?

Rapson:
Very simple. Nathan. I think he’d settled into his life there. Once Pepper was out of the picture, he was a lot more comfortable. I think Connie wanted him to have a father, a normal family life. She thought marrying Buckridge would give him that.

M:
And did it?

Rapson:
I suppose so.

M:
You don’t sound sure.

Rapson:
Well, Wayne wasn’t the warmest man I’d ever met. As a fatherfigure to any of his kids, he left a lot to be desired. But you have to understand something. Until Pepper became too ill to control what was happening in the house, Nathan lived like a second-class citizen. That lastedfor nearly two years. I know it really took a toll on the boy. I have to say, Infelt sorry for him. He used to come up to my apartment in the evenings and we’d play checkers. I know he loved his mom, but he needed a man to talk to.

M:
Before their marriage, did Wayne ever pay any attention to him?

Rapson:
Not much, but then he was never overtly mean to the kid either, like Pepper had been. I think Nathan liked Wayne. I know he always tried to be helpful. He’d look for ways to do things for him. Like, when the morning paper got tossed in the bushes, Nathan would always go out and get it for him. (Laughs) One night, I remember, I caught him in the garage. He’d taken a gallon jug of antifreeze down from the shelf and was about to leave. He hadn’t turned on a light, so I figured he was up to no good. When I flipped the light on, the look on his face told me I was right. He looked guilty as hell. But then he explained that Wayne had asked him to get the antifreeze for him so he could put it in his trunk Apparently he had a radiator leak and hadn’t had a chance to get it fixed. Every morning hedjust top off the liquid and head off to work.

M:
Sounds like a careless way to take care of a car.

Rapson:
Yeah, I agree. And it was a Jag, too. Come to think of it, I asked Wayne about it a few weeks later. He was in a bad mood that day. I don’t know if I mentioned it before, but he was kind of a moody guy. He said he didn’t know what I was talking about. If he had a leaky radiator hed have it fixed. End of story.

M:
So what do you think Nathan was doing with the antifreeze?

Rapson:
He was probably telling me the truth. Wayne was terrible about maintaining cars, and he was probably embarrassed. He’d use and abuse it, then get rid of it and buy another. I’m not sure he ever remembered to have the oil changed. I had to remind him about it all the time. Sometimes I just did it myself.

M:
So you stayed on as the handyman-gardener until 1974.

Rapson:
Right. I’d saved quite a bit of money over the years and had started to sell some of my paintings, so I figured it was time. It was hard to say goodbye. Nathan was twenty by then. Even with all the strikes against him, he’d grown up to be a fine young man. Paul was in his late teens, kind of a handful, but basically a good kid. And Emily was about the same age Nathan had been when he’d first come to live in the house. Wayne was gone. He’d had a massive heart attack in late January. Time moves on, I guess. Nothing stays the same.

M:
Just a couple more questions. I assume you knew Arthur Jadek Connie’s brother.

Rapson:
Sure did. I don’t think this is common knowledge, but he was a CIA operative for a while. I assume it had something to do with east Asia. Vietnam. The war effort over there. Very hush-hush stuff. The boys idolized him.

M:
What did you think of him?

Rapson:
He was ill when he first came to live at the house. Well, maybe not ill exactly, but certainly malnourished. But his health improved almost right away. I liked the guy. He had an undergraduate degree in philosophy, so we used to talk about that some.

M:
Were you home the night Wayne had his heart attack?

Rapson:
No, I left to have dinner with friends about a quarter to six. Funny, Wayne rarely ever got home before seven. But that night he arrived early, just as I was leaving.

M:
Connie was home?

Rapson:
Yes, but she was in her study with some music on. Wayne apparently went upstairs without saying anything to her. She found him in the bathroom later that night. Connie felt he was trying to get to his heart medication. He must have called out to her, but she wouldn’t have heard him. It was a real tragedy.

M:
I understand Arthur was also away at the time. At the library.

Rapson:
(Hesitates) No, I don’t think so. At least, his car was in the drive when I left. I’m sure he was inside.

M:
I’ve been told by others that he wasn’t around.

Rapson:
(Thinks for a moment) No, he was there. As a matter of fact, I saw him go in the back door around five-fifteen.

M:
But none of the kids were home?

Rapson:
No, I’m positive of that. Nathan was out of town. Paul was playing in a football game. And Emily way staying at a friend s house for the night. The only other person who could possibly have been there was the housekeeper, and she usually left by five.

M:
If she was still around, would you have seen her car?

Rapson:
She didn’t have one. She’d walk out to the main road and take a bus home at night.

M:
Do you remember her name?