Cry Havoc!
"Cry Havoc! And let slip…” Well, that’s Shakespeare of course. And these famous words are put into the mouth of Julius Caesar. It’s not exactly clear what..oh, yes..”the dogs of war” represent. However, it does seem clear that such dogs are to be avoided if at all possible. That’s not true of all dogs, surely. And that is definitely the case in our great Saga. Characters abound, and the stage is crowded with them. Some of them are less prominent than others, and some are all but overlooked. Perhaps that’s because it’s hard to tell what purpose some of them served. They are lost in the strange of world of the Likens Saga. Strange “worlds”, i.e. the plural, is more accurate. There’s the world of the Saga, the Gestalt if you will, that is only accessible via the trial transcripts. That world is supplemented by external sources, none of which recommend themselves as reliable. Kernels of truth are there, but hard to tease out. Then there is the strange world of the Likens’ cult, a place where the unending lies found in the testimony and the subsequent, and uncritical, views of various individuals that have for some reason gravitated toward a particular telling of the story. Here one accepts things that one might not accept in any other context where the grinding inevitability of the forces of reality are grudgingly granted their place of pre-eminence. In the former context, characters take on a significance of almost religious magnitude, featuring, at its epicenter, a battle of good versus evil. Perhaps no other example of this exists in the history of crime in America. Layers and layers of pseudo-mythology, disinformation, and black ops-like distortions have insulated the Saga from the truth. A more critical examination is probably doomed to failure. But it cannot hurt to look at things differently, even though one will have to be willing to throw everything out the window, only to run out and try to throw some things back in.
In a previous essay I defined what the term “ghosts” means in the context of the Sylvia Likens’ saga. These are characters, real people, who suddenly appear and then disappear. For the most part, witnesses used ghosts to fill in their fictional stories. They’re there, and then they disappear. They walk through the wall, and then quickly walk back through it. A good example of a ghost is Paula in Stephanie’s highly fictionalized story of the night Sylvia died. Paula is in the basement as Sylvia, obviously badly injured, speaks incoherently. Paula goes upstairs and then…vanishes through the wall. When it comes time to put the girl in the bathtub, Johnny has to help. That’s highly inappropriate! And if Paula was really at the scene, well, she and Stephanie could have placed Sylvia in the bathtub. There would be nothing inappropriate with that. Other than the fact that Sylvia was dying and no one did the right thing. Jenny states that Paula arrived at the house after Sylvia was dead. Perhaps this is a kernel of truth that can be thrown back through the window, if we were standing outside looking for things that could be thrown back through the window. The ghost appears, and then disappears. Nevertheless, Paula was a real person.
Actually, there is a second type of ghost. These are mentioned, sometimes repeatedly, but never really existed. In The Problem with Confessions Part 1, comments were made about the ghost-like Dennis Wright. And what about the second-type ghost Freddy Wright? Then there are “strangers”. These are individuals named, or referred to without being named, in the testimony but aren’t witnesses. However, they are highly relevant to the bigger picture. The surprising thing, if there are any surprising things left in the Sylvia Likens’ saga, is that some of the them are never named, and their role in the whole drama is never qualified. They are left unnamed because their role in the affair would probably ruin the whole canonical story, and might result in the ultimate heresy; i.e. revealing the truth. Phyllis Vermillion is moved to testify by the impossible-to-resist urge to protect Paula’s unnamed boyfriend from some reporter’s incorrect statement that he was Coy Hubbard. Then she reveals the existence of another unnamed man, one who argues with Gertrude and is then arrested. Because of Gertrude, he faces ten years in prison. For arguing with Gertrude? If that were true, it might well be that many neighborhood people were looking at jail sentences. Ten years in prison is a long sentence, and it is certainly the case that there are crimes that can result in such a sentence, such as involvement with an underage minor. Nowhere is that said to be the case in what I believe is not a fictional story. Vermillion told fictional stories too, but I don’t think Gertrude vs. the unnamed former neighbor is one of them. It’s fascinating to say the least that nosy neighbor lady tells two main stories, each featuring an unnamed man whom Phyllis feels duty-bound to protect. Who is the burglar that Phyllis said that Gertrude had arrested? Is he the man involved in the tete-a-tete at Gertrude’s magical front door? Where in all this does Robert Handlin fit? He actually made it into the house. Vermillion left the burglar unnamed, surprise…surprise. Handlin is named because an attorney names him. I don’t think there was a burglar at all. I think that Handlin wasn’t a burglar. It’s possible that he, apparently illegally, entered Gertrude’s house because he was there to see someone. Four strange men in a single cluster, all connected in some way. Interesting, if no more than that. According to Jenny, there was another cluster of strange men:
Q. Did you ever have a conversation with Gertrude Baniszewski in the presence of Sylvia about your living at 109 Euclid Street, Indianapolis, Indiana?
A. We could have. I can't remember exactly what it was.
Q. Did you or didn't you?
A. I could have told her something.
Q. Do you remember what you told her?
A. No, I can't remember.
Q. Do you remember telling her this or this in substance, that men were staying there at that house and that they all stayed in one room, do you remember saying that in substance?
Fascinating! An unnamed gang of men, who lived at the same apartment building that Sylvia, Betty, and Jenny did. Gang of men? Unnamed, yes, but irrelevant in my estimation. Perhaps “group” or “bunch” would be better terms, given what has been said elsewhere on this site about the mysterious, but nonetheless real, gang of boys. Of course, Ricky said “bunch”. At any rate, these men, unlike others, probably had nothing to do with the final outcome. Still, the attorney did think it important enough to mention.
Another great example of a “stranger” as opposed to a “ghost” is Mystery Cop. We know that he was there after painstakingly wrenching it out of Dixon. Harmon too; he arrived on the scene right on the heels of Dixon. When he approached Gertrude’s magical door, the one that opens by itself when you walk up to it, just like the doors at the supermarket, he remains outside; well, until he comes back later that night and fiddles with the basement. He testified that the superior officer told him to stay outside and guard the door. Guard it from what? That is strange, given the fact that Randy claimed to have found one of Gertrude’s non-existent ghost dogs running around outside. He says that he caught the imaginary dog by his imaginary collar, brought him to the door, and the cops let him put the giant police dog in the house. I objected to this in another posting. Why? Dogs get excited when exciting things are going on, and he would run around the house getting in the way. Oh, he would also contaminate the crime scene. But I just thought of something! He’s a police dog! Maybe he knew some of the cops in the house and wanted to see how they were doing. Why didn’t Harmon, our guardian of Gertrude’s magical front door, stop Randy from letting the dog in the house? Did he recognize the police dog? It’s ok, Paul, we know him, let him in! That’s not fair; but it was hard to resist.
Actually, there are 2 ghosts dogs. What about the other? Shirley tells us about him. Oh, and the ghost-like police dog too. Keep in mind that she was prompted by the attorney…oops..in judicial jargon..the correct expression is “lead”:
Q. Did any of the dogs sleep down there?
A. Yes.
Q. How many dogs did you have?
A. One.
Q. Did you ever get another dog?
A. No.
Q. What kind of dog was this?
A. I don't remember.
Q. Was it a big dog?
A. No.
Q. Was it a puppy?
A. Yes, it was.
Q. What about a police dog?
A. Oh, yes, a police dog too.
Q. It came to your house.
A. Yes.
Q. Whose dog was this?
A. My father's.
Q. Did it stay at your house?
A. Yes, it did.
This is a great example of how the witnesses were manipulated to ensure that the truth would never come out during the trial. Shirley was one tough witness, and one of my favorite characters. Why? She had the tendency to give all-inclusive answers. This left out ambiguity, which is highly valuable when manipulating…I mean…leading, witnesses. I love her phrase: “no, I never”, which could morph into “no, she never”, and “no, he never”. Such certainty from a little one. The problem is, when you prompt her to change her answers, the fact that you are leading the witness is obvious. She says that they only had one dog. So there it is. What kind? I don’t remember. Don’t remember? But she was supposed to say “two dogs”. The one was a puppy, the other was John’s big police dog. Ricky said this:
Q. Would you describe the basement in which you said you scorched or burned or tattooed Sylvia to the jury? Describe it at the time you did this.
A. You walked down the stairs heading east and turned to the left and you see two sinks on the north wall, one sink on the east wall and a mattress and springs up against the north wall and some rags. Farther on down there is a coal bin, a coal furnace and some old kitchen chairs down there.
Q. Tin cans?
A. I believe there was under the stairs.
Q. Trash?
A. Tin cans.
Q. Dog filth?
A. None that I saw.
Q. Was there a dog in the house?
A. A German shepherd.
Q. Was there a puppy?
A. I don't recall.
So Ricky, did you notice any dog poop on the floor? It’s an interesting question, since the apparent lack of any dog poop on the floor would support the notion that the basement door was kept not just unlocked, but open. Otherwise, there would be dog poop all over the basement. It’s strange, though. What? Shirley remembers a puppy, but not a police dog. Ricky remembers a police dog, but not a puppy. And yet he spent time at that house, and yes, even in the basement. Nonetheless, we’re told that the puppy slept in the basement. Jenny used the ghost-puppy in her testimony:
Q. Did Mrs. Baniszewski have any dogs?
A. Yes, she did.
Q. How many?
A. She had a pup, a little puppy and her father - the kids’ father brought over a police dog.
So Jenny remembered the puppy too, although she did so without being led like Shirley.
Q. Jenny, the night before Sylvia died did anyone else sleep in the basement?
A. No, just the little dog was down there.
Did anyone else sleep in the basement? Shirley? Marie? Little Jimmy? Based on the reasons why Sylvia was said to have slept in the basement, why would anyone else have slept down there? Now, Jenny is great at creating very emotive fictional stories. The best parts are when she puts words into Sylvia’s mouth. This one involves the puppy, and has an almost biblical nature to it.
A. I went back upstairs and Gertie told me to tell Sylvia she could have another chance, that she could have a cracker and see if she would take it and some water. Shirley got a cup of water and I got a cracker and Sylvia said, "I don't want it, give it to the dog, it is hungrier than I am". I said, "I know you are hungry". She said she did not want it. I knew she would get in trouble. Shirley put the water to her mouth and Sylvia drunk it. Shirley ran to her mother and said she drank the water. She could not force it away because her hands were tied. Gertie comes to the basement and said, "You know you were not supposed to have water". Sylvia said, "I did not want it but Shirley made me drink it". Gertie took her fist and kept hitting her in the stomach.
So Sylvia is tied up in the basement, and is hungry. Photo 1 Girl was described as “malnourished”. And even though she is malnourished, she engages in an almost Gospel-like self-sacrifice by giving her food to the dog. I’ve mentioned that there are several Sylvias in the saga; characters created by the witnesses. The most prevalent Sylvia is the “silent, suffering Sylvia.” The one who doesn’t resist, doesn’t walk out the door, she is like a sacrificial lamb being led to the slaughter. She must face this fate, and so she embraces it. But here we have the “self-sacrificing Sylvia”, a character one could almost, and I emphasize “almost”, pluck out of the testimony and drop her into the New Testament. In fact, in a strange way, it almost reminds me of Mark 7:28:
“even the dogs under the table are allowed to eat the scraps from the children's plates."
A coincidence, no doubt. Paul Harmon, the policeman who guarded the front door against who-knows-what, but may have let Randy put the crime-scene-contaminating ghost dog in the house, came back later that night. He went into the basement, and removed various silly items with no significance to anything. Perhaps it was an excuse to get into the basement. After all, the other things he removed that were used in the trial were the paddle and the police belt. Interesting, a police belt, a police dog, a former policeman, and a Mystery Cop. At any rate, the paddle and belt weren’t found in the basement. They were found on the kitchen table. If that’s where they were found. That’s a subject for another essay. A pair of shorts held up in court? Sylvia’s shorts? They’re gray but they were white. Maybe use more bleach next time. Maybe, but the wash was done in the basement, and there were no doubt piles of clothes down there. If you wanted to, you could probably pick up any pair of shorts. Their relevance? None. How about the copper tubing? The still was unfinished. Oh, I forgot, Gertrude didn’t drink. No matter. But Harmon said this:
A. Well, there was one mattress and spring down there, a couple of sinks, three boxes of furnace ashes, assorted dirty clothes in various positions in the basement. Other piles of rags, trash cans filled with empty cans, dog food and this sort of thing.
So Harmon found the dog food in the basement. The puppy lived in the basement? Where did the other dog sleep? There was no dog poop in the basement. Wait another minute! Hey, Jenny! I loved the story of the self-sacrificing, New Testament-like figure you created. I wonder though. If Paul Harmon found dog food in the basement, then why did your sister so selflessly offer her cracker to the puppy because he was hungrier than Sylvia was? According to Harmon, there was dog food down there. Maybe Sylvia should have eaten her one cracker, and then filled the puppy’s bowl with Paul Harmon Dog Chow.
Of course, John was a former cop, so it is only fitting that the dog he brought to Gertrude’s house, although assiduously avoiding entering the house, was a police dog. John was a former policeman, so maybe this was a former police dog. But how big was he? I wonder what he was doing while all the excitement was going on. Puppies get excited too! And so many people in the house who might want to play! Oh no, Dr. Kebel just tripped over him. Well, if you can’t trip over a little dog, I bet you could trip over this one:
Q. Did he come in October with a great big three foot dog?
A. Yes.
Q. He came October 22, didn't he, four days before your sister died?
A. Yes.
Q. He brought a great big police dog, didn't he, three foot tall?
A. Yes.
Wow! He’s three feet tall. I’m six feet tall, so he’s half as tall as me. I wonder where he slept? If only the puppy slept in the basement, then the police dog slept elsewhere. There wasn’t much room in the back bed room, and I would think that the same goes for Paula’s room. Maybe he slept in the boy’s bed room. So even though, due to John’s failure to pay his alimony as specified by the court, there were days when the kids ate soup and crackers, there was enough money to buy dog food. I wonder how much food a three feet tall police dog eats. I bet it’s a lot. When time is lean, maybe he eats soup and crackers too. The puppy eats crackers, even though there’s dog food in the basement. I bet the big dog will not be satisfied with crackers. If there’s no dog food, be diligent about counting the kids. But with these 2 dogs, feeding them would cost a bit. Now, one might rightly object, because John brought the dog over to the house on October 22nd, according to Jenny; I mean the attorney who asked the leading question. It would be very helpful to hear from John Sr. about this dog. After all, supposedly, he suddenly showed up with it:
Q. Do you recall, October '65 taking a German Shepherd dog to 3850 East New York Street?
MR. ERBECKER: We object.
THE COURT: Overruled.
A. Yes, sir.
Q. Do you recall the date in October, 1965?
A. The 23rd of October, 1965.
Q. That was on Saturday?
A. Yes, sir.
Q. Do you recall what time of the day or evening that was?
A. Between 8:30 and 9:00 o'clock in the evening.
Q. What kind of dog was this, specifically?
A. A large German Shepherd that was friendly.
Q. On four legs how tall would it stand?
A. Twenty-four inches.
Q. What was the purpose of you taking a dog there?
MR. ERBECKER: We object.
THE COURT: Overruled.
A. Protection.
So it is interesting. What? The attorney who examined Jenny got the date wrong. It wasn’t Friday the 22nd, it was Saturday the 23rd. And everyone knows, no matter what Sylvia Likens world they live in, even the heretical one found on this site…scratch that, that world has a population of one, that Saturday is the second most important date in the whole Gestalt. But that wasn’t the only thing he got wrong. He said that the dog was three feet tall! But John says 24 inches tall, and that’s only two feet tall! Maybe he was out in the rain and got wet..and shrank! The incredible shrinking dog. I hope he stays out of the rain, and thereby doesn’t end up any taller than the cracker-eating puppy in the basement. Who would be top dog then?
Now we learn that he was a German Shepherd. And! He’s friendly! Why say that? Because! How would it look if ghost dog, who is now a little smaller, were a mean dog? After all, you brought him over to Gertrude’s house, and you can’t have a mean dog around with baby Denny, Little Jimmy, and Nurse Shirley living in the house. True, you could train him to not be a threat to the little ones, but that will take time and training. One gets the picture of John driving over to Gertrude’s house, getting out of his car and letting a police dog out of the backseat. He walks up onto Gertrude’s front porch, knocks on the door, making sure of course to not walk through it until he did for the first time on the night Sylvia died and found himself in the basement. “Hey, guys! Like the dog? He’s yours now!” But will he get on well with the puppy? At any rate, this is rather sudden, so the dog has to be friendly. Why bring him over to Gertrude’s house? After all, she already has a pet ghost-dog; i.e. little puppy “what’s-his-name” who sleeps with Sylvia in the basement. Did John happen to have an extra police dog he no longer needed? A spare, perhaps? No! As John says, he was for protection. From whom? From what? John doesn’t say. That’s odd. Why? Well, according to him, this happened on Saturday, October 23rd. So for the whole time of Gertrude’s stay at 3850 East New York Street, it isn’t until Saturday that a serious threat to the house suddenly appeared. And this despite the fact that the incident involving Robert Handlin took place on October 20th. I would have asked what that threat was. But! We had to bring over a friendly ghost police dog because of the little ones. If there is a threat, then a friendly police dog wouldn’t be much good. If Handlin were to return, it would serve no purpose to have police dog bring him a tennis ball in the hopes he wanted to play fetch. But if he didn’t exist, then a date is meaningless. I like the date, though, since 4 days before Sylvia fits along with the other things Jenny dates to three to four days before her sister died:
- Plans to kill Sylvia and dump the body in Ellenberger Park
- Sylvia is forced to write the Gang of Boys note- totally different plan than No. 2
- Sylvia is forced to write the second note
And we know that witnesses place the slogan and branding events on Saturday the 23rd. This is also the date Gertrude and Johnny took a cab to Dr. Lindenborg’s office, and the date that Stephanie slept all day and into the night because she took medicine that the court wouldn’t let her name. This left her conveniently in a stupor so that she could sleep in the dining room, which directly adjoined kitchen, and have no knowledge of what was going on in the kitchen as Ricky fictionally scratched the slogan into Sylvia’s abdomen, as well as the fictional branding of the number 3 on her chest, with Shirley doing half of it. Shirley must have been in a rather bad mood. Perhaps had Mr. Leppar painted her room, she would have been in a better mood. So Saturday is an amazingly busy day in Gertrude’s magical house! Go to the doctor’s, poor Stephanie is sick and claims to have been slipped a mickey, the slogan is cut into Sylvia’s abdomen, the number 3 is branded onto her chest, Sylvia is forced to write a note, and then, just when things are beginning to settle down in what has managed to become the hub of the universe, John shows up with a two-foot tall, although he looks three feet tall if you’re a lawyer, friendly police dog to protect the household from an undefined and unidentified threat. Wow! Busy…busy…busy! I could use a round of Phenobarbital!
So why claim to bring the police dog to the house? The puppy was lonely? I can only think of one good reason to bring a police dog over to Gertrude’s house. But it involves an angle that one can see at various points in the testimony, although it is never fully developed. Why? Because it would suggest the possibility that Sylvia’s death may have been due to someone other than Gertrude. Now I have to admit, this angle may have had a different connotation to it. There was an enumerating of people who had been in Gertrude’s house. The angle might be, and it would be a good indeed, to show just how many people had been in the house during the period of time leading up to Sylvia’s death. Why? Because any one of these people, indeed probably all of them, saw nothing going on. Look what happened to the cleric and the Social Services nurse! One may call down curses on nosy-neighbor Phyllis Vermillion, who witnessed…a fictional event involving Paula being mean to Sylvia, but there is a much bigger list of people to call down curses on. You’re not supposed to end a sentence with a preposition. Oh, well. Surely the police dog does not fit into this angle at all. A great objection would be that Handlin might come back. He might indeed. But it’s a strange thing. What? Gertrude didn’t sign an affidavit against Robert Handlin until October 26th:
Q. Now, Mrs. Baniszewski, on the morning of October 26, 1965, there was signed, executed and filed and affidavit for First Degree Burglary against Robert Handlin, parts of which read "that on this day, before me, Noble R. Pearcy, personally came Detective Sheldon Lasky, who upon his oath said Robert Handlin on or about the 20th of October, 1965, County of Marion, did then and there unlawfully, feloniously, burglariously break and enter into the dwelling house of Gertrude Wright, then and there situated at 3850 East New York Street in which said dwelling house the said Gertrude Wright then lived". Now, this was signed and sworn the 26th of October. Now, are you the same Gertrude Wright endorsed as a witness for the State?
A. Yes, sir.
Q. And Marie Baniszewski is listed as a witness for the State. Is that your daughter?
A. Yes, sir.
Why did it take 6 days for this to happen. Was it only later that Gertrude decided to press charges? And how is it that Gertrude signed this on the exact same day on which Sylvia died? “On or about the 20th of October” sounds like official jargon. But it happened on a specific day, and if Robert Handlin was arrested, then that date would be clear from the arrest record.
Maybe John didn’t like the dog anymore. But he was friendly. Maybe John felt that Gertrude needed another pet more than receiving her alimony, which had a direct impact on his children, on a timely basis. The only sensible reason for bringing over a big dog, indeed a police dog, is that there was a direct threat to the household from a third-party. If that were true, then maybe he should have brought over a not-so-friendly police dog. After all, if this dangerous third-party were to walk into the house, something that Handlin actually did, this dog might just wag his tail and waited to be petted. I would object that if Handlin did come back, then the dog could bark and alert the people of the house. That’s true. But the first time he was there, he entered the house when it was full of people. Not only that, Gertrude really didn’t have anything to steal. Burglars usually case residences. Why? Well, to know what houses have things in them worth stealing. And if they do, then you have determine how many people live there, and when they usually aren’t at home. So you determine that a house is worth breaking into, which Gertrude’s isn’t, and determine how many people live there, which is a whole bunch in Gertrude’s house, then you try to break in when nobody’s home. But somebody’s always home at Gertrude’s house. She never leaves, and the whole house is full of kids. So if Handlin was a burglar, then he was the most incompetent burglar who ever…attempted..to burgle. And if he was nothing more than a lousy burglar, and he got busted, I doubt that he would return. That would be very different if Handlin were not a burglar. Then it didn’t matter that Gertrude had nothing to steal; he wasn’t there to steal. It didn’t matter that someone was home, especially if the real reason he was there was actually to see someone. Thus he showed up when people, besides Gertrude, with whom he may have argued on a previous occasion, were home. He was desperate, and he forced his way in. If he was there to see someone, maybe see someone before he was to leave to town, then he may not have been dangerous at all, and it took a few days to Gertrude a few days to press charges. If he were desperate enough to try one more attempt to force his way into the house to see a certain someone, a friendly dog with more bark and no bite wouldn’t do any more good than puppy “what’s-his-name.” I remember! There’s no dog poop in the basement, so he obviously goes outside, and one might think he’s around the house when not sleeping beside Sylvia. Puppy’s are friendly! And they can bark! So a second friendly dog might be a bit redundant. If Mr. police dog were to growl angrily and bare his teeth, that would be a deterrent indeed. But that wouldn’t be a friendly police dog.
I know! Instead of Harmon letting Randy put the dog in the house, he should have given him a tennis ball and Randy could play fetch with the police dog. Who knows, maybe Robert Handlin liked to play fetch too. Or Dennis Wright. I think that in the end, the two dogs may be fictional. Why? Not just all the absurdities of the stories involving them. Kaiser:
Q. Where else in the house did you go, Officer?
A. I checked the kitchen and I started down the basement but I did not go all the way down.
Q. What did you see, if anything?
A. There was no light at the time. I could not find a light and I came back up.
Q. Was there anything in the basement you observed?
A. No, sir, I could not see down there.
Q. Did you see any animals?
MR. BOWMAN: We object.
MR. ERBECKER: We object.
THE COURT: Objection sustained to the leading question.
Q. What did you say?
A. Actually, I did not see anything.
Q. Did you go down there?
A. No, sir.
Q. How many steps did you go down?
A. Just a couple of steps.
Q. Then where did you go and what did you do?
MR. ERBECKER: We object.
THE COURT: Objection sustained. It assumes.
Q. What did you do?
A. Completed the investigation at the scene.
Q. Of what did that consist?
I cannot resist pointing out that, in my opinion, homicide investigators should not be afraid of the dark. I would actually use that as a sort of preliminary “filtering” question, to coin a phrase. “Well officer, I know how much you want to work in Homicide; but are you afraid of the dark?” “Well, yes, I am.” “That’s too bad, request for transfer denied!” I also cannot resist pointing out that it is hard to complete your investigation of the scene when you avoided the basement because you couldn’t find the light switch. Dixon was there. Harmon was there. Surely one of them had something that you always see policemen with…a flash light. It’s usually a pretty big one. I would think that with all the cops milling around Gertrude’s house, it would occur to one of them that someone could actually search the one room in Gertrude’s house that none of them apparently did search, if you used one of their flashlights to find the magical light switch in the basement. But no! The ironic thing would then be that Homicide was on the scene but failed to search the one room where the victim lived out the last days of her life in pain and torment. Maybe not. He must have gone in the basement. It’s odd that he denies this, as does Dixon, but John Sr, who claimed that he assiduously avoided even walking into Gertrude’s house until October 26th, tells the court that he went into the basement. How did John find the light switch? Maybe he brought a flash light. After all, just like Kaiser, that was his first daring descent into the bowels of the beast. One might object that he was there earlier, when it was still light outside. That may in fact be the case. Or someone had already turned the light on; such as Gertrude, or Stephanie, or Jenny. Of course, it would fall to Paul Harmon to, apparently, find the light switch and go down into Gertrude’s dreaded basement; well, as far as law enforcement was concerned.
And did Kaiser see any animals? Why object? Did you or didn’t you? I think the objection was made because Kaiser was going to say “no.” And! Gertrude’s house isn’t that big…it would be hard to miss two dogs. To say “no” would be to undermine testimony that would be given later. It would undermine, as the truth usually does, the fiction of an imaginary threat to the house that suddenly materialized on what was one of the busiest days in the history of 3850 East New York Street. And this is even stranger given Randy’s claim. This was referenced earlier, and is quoted here now:
Q. Then after you left did you ever come back to the Baniszewski home that day?
A. Well, when I went to straighten up the living room, when I came out a lot of police cars were there and then when I was looking around the neighborhood I seen Mrs. Baniszewski's dog - you know, running out like he was lost or something like he got out and so then I just took him by the collar and just walked him in the living room and left. I asked the police if I could go in the house to give them back the German Shepherd and he said "yes".
It’s no surprise that ghost dog is lost, he only moved in a few days ago, so he’s new to the neighborhood. Wait, I don’t know about that. How far away can he have been if Randy Leppar managed to find him? Dogs are pretty good at finding their way back when they are within a distance close enough to home that even Randy Leppar could have found him. And! He couldn’t have been too far away if Randy dragged him back to Gertrude’s house by his collar. Randy’s lucky that this police dog is friendly! If he wasn’t, then he might not like the fact that Randy is dragging him by his neck, and react like..I don’t know…a police dog! The dog was running around “like he got out.” Out of what? Gertrude’s house? Of course he did! That’s why he’s not in her house! That’s why Randy Leppar found him outside of her house! It would be hard to find the dog outside of Gertrude’s house if he were inside of Gertrude’s house. And then! Mystery Cop shouldn’t have left Paul Harmon at Gertrude’s magical door; you know, the one that opens for Dixon all by itself. Randy walks up to him, asks if he can enter a murder scene and contaminate it. Sure kid, no problem. Kaiser didn’t see the basement because it was dark. In the end, it’s probably a good thing Kaiser didn’t go down into the basement. If the puppy hadn’t been outside that day, Kaiser could have ended up with dog poop on his shoes. Just think how that would contaminate a crime scene! But how did he miss the dog running around those parts of the house where he could find a light switch? Easy! He’s a ghost-dog. He’s invisible. Unless you’re John Sr, Randy Leppar, Jenny Likens, Ricky Hobbs, and Shirley, once she’s reminded that she actually saw this dog.