The Enigmatic Number 2 Part 2 – Disarray
The Two Weeks. A strange period of time to say the least, and one that is impossible to believe. I should qualify that. The Two Weeks existed. And it is a very important period of time. It is the way The Two Weeks was used in the great Saga that is impossible to believe. Of course, The Two Weeks is really a subset of a greater period, one that is ensconced within The Three Weeks. The fundamental error in the way that The Two Weeks was used is that it represents the period of time during which the really brutality played out. This fails for the following reason. Gertrude and her children know that Lester Likens will be back within three weeks. Counting from October 5th, that means that he will back at Gertrude’s house, at the latest, on October 26th. He wasn’t, but nobody knew that. He was crashing in a hotel in Florida. Why wasn’t he at Gertrude’s house on October 26th? He said he would be. It doesn’t seem that he contacted any one to pass on a message to Gertrude and his daughters. Gertie didn’t have a phone, but the grandparents did:
Q. Your grandmother Iva Martin and your grandparents on Temple both had phones?
A. Yes.
Q. Did you ever talk to them on the phone?
A. No.
So Lester had someone to contact and arrange to pass on the fact that he would not be at Gertrude’s house on October 26th. I believe that had he done this, Sylvia would not have died. I believe that the fight in the kitchen, during which Sylvia was knocked down the stairs leading into the basement, where she hit her head on the wall at the base of the stairs, wouldn’t have happened had he been there when he said he would. That fight was about contacting Lester and Betty to find out why they weren’t there. I can think of no other reason why Sylvia would have died on October 26th. Staying within the parameters of the canonical story world, we are clearly left with only a couple of options. The first would be that Gertrude intentionally killed Sylvia on the day Lester would return. Of course, this is preposterous. If one were momentarily to grant the canonical storiers something that should not be granted, then Gertrude would be making a statement to Lester. In this case, Sylvia is not the real target. No, Lester is. Sylvia would then be merely the means of hurting her parents. The other possibility is that it was purely a coincidence. One might think that either of these ridiculous ideas can be cut out of the bizarre, mini-universe of 3850 East New York Street using good-ole Occam’s Razor. But that is not true. One would be better off playing the Devil’s advocate, seeing how the Devil is still busy lurking in the details of a case that I would dare say baffles even him. A big problem with the idea that Gertrude planned on killing Sylvia on the day that Lester would be knocking on her magical front door, and here I am granting another point, is that Lester could have returned before that date. I can’t speak for Occam or the Devil, but I can speak for myself when I say that either idea discussed above is nonsense. The other problem with the canonical story on the question of The Three Weeks and The Two Weeks is Gertie Wright’s end-game. If I were Gertrude, and it was October 5th, I would be in the kitchen talking with Lester, Betty, Sylvia and Jenny. Six people is a lot to get into the kitchen, given the size of the table. Still being Gertrude, I could say “Listen Lester, I don’t want them here any more. I have enough little monsters to deal with. Let’s settle accounts, and then you can take them and leave.” If I did that, I wouldn’t be in prison. But I didn’t do that. Instead, Lester told me that he would be back in The Three Weeks. And I agreed. Why did I agree? I pose this question to the canonical storiers. Well, if I can find any who are interested in the truth rather immersing themselves in a pseudo-religion based upon a real person who was transformed into a fictional person. Yet I pose that question. If I, still being Gertrude, hate this girl enough to fictionally do what I was accused of fictionally doing, indeed, I hate this girl enough to kill her, then what prompted me to agree with Lester and Betty to keep her any longer? Here we are, sitting, well some of us will have to stand, in the kitchen. “No! Take them and go!” That’s not what I said as I stared at Lester Likens. “I will be back within three weeks, Gertrude.” “Ok Lester, that’ll be fine.” I would love to hear the inherited wisdom tell me why I just said what I did. And! Don’t you forget, oh inherited wisdom and any canonickers who momentarily wish to think about these things, your answer to this question can in no way rely upon thought patterns, feelings, or motivations that require insanity, paranoia, or sadism. The Big Four say, no! You must remain within your fictional world to answer the question that has no plausible answer. Step outside of that world for a moment, an answer, a plausible one, one that fits, one that does not require a fictional canonical world to be true, well, you might just trip over it. So I just told Lester that it would be fine to leave his girls with me. Then what happens? Lester leaves, and things go on as usual. For seven days. Then, on October 12th, an earth-shattering change occurs. Almost out of nowhere the Hydra appears armed with all it’s heads, with no one to start cutting them off. It crawls up out of the basement. Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war! Perhaps the Devil crawled out of the details long enough to take over. After all, he couldn’t make any more sense out of those details than we could. Perhaps he decided on a more direct approach. Perhaps Occam dropped his Razor, and someone had to pick it up. So I, still being Gertie Wright, agreed with Lester on October 5th to keep Sylvia and Jenny for, at the most three more weeks. October 26th becomes a magical number; not an enigmatic one to be sure. The worst case scenario is that I would have to deal with a kid who I can’t stand for 21 days. That doesn’t seem like a lot of days. They can be long days if I have to live with someone I can’t stand, but I’m sure the days spent over umpteen years in prison will seem a lot longer. Of course, the days will get much shorter, indeed, completely disappear, if I’m executed for First Degree Murder. So I have choices, indeed! Deal with her for 21 more days, spend umpteen years in prison, or be executed. It seems to me, momentarily no longer being Mrs. Wright, that the right choice is clear. What’s that? To hang up my calendar on the kitchen wall, and take a marker, perhaps the one Ricky Hobbs will use to WRITE the slogan on Sylvia’s abdomen, and put an “X” in each box representing each day that has thankfully passed. To choose either of the other two options would be the act of someone fitting the very precise psychiatric diagnosis that Kebel so professionally stated during his testimony; i.e. a madman. Sorry Kebel, hang around for awhile. So who is Kebel? He exaggerates. 15 cigarettes burns x 10 = 150 cigarette burns. Wait! Methinks we found some who can count! Better still, someone who can do arithmetic’s! So on that point, it’s too bad that we can’t double the number of Kebels; that would be three people who could count and do multiplication. Letters too large, a Number 3 very different from Ellis’s Number 3 and one that just might match the diameter of the drain pipe in the utility sink in Gertrude’s basement where the iron was found..wait, I mean the poker…wait, I mean the iron furnace poker that Johnny, the much maligned and totally innocent boy, temporarily caught a break and was allowed to give it to Ricky. Wait, that couldn’t have happened. No Jenny! No attorneys! The thing in the sink is an EYE-HOOK, or even a HOOK-SCREW, and it’s not made of iron, it’s made of steel, just ask the 10 year old who seems to know so much more than you. But as for Kebel, he was smart enough to be looking for horses while us imbeciles were looking for giraffes. I didn’t find any giraffes. I did find an incredible shrinking dog, a ghost-puppy, and a very malevolent poisonous spider stalking Indianapolis’ Queen of the Judo Flip. And he caught up to her. Tough luck, kiddo! At any rate, of all the things you can say about Kebel, one thing is for certain; i.e. he was a deputy coroner, and one who I suspect was pretty good at his job. He was NOT a psychologist, a psychiatrist, or a mental health professional in any way, shape or form. His assessment of whoever supposedly did what was supposedly done to a girl he only he saw in photos, has no merit whatsoever. Madman? Let’s leave Kebel out of the expert witnesses.
I know! Let’s ask the Master of Observations! One who can scan his surroundings and put things together better than Sherlock Holmes or Dr. House. Let’s ask my favorite patrolman:
Q. Officer, based upon your observation of the defendant Richard Hobbs and based upon your observation of the defendant Gertrude Baniszewski, alias Gertrude Wright, have you formed an opinion as to whether they, or either of them, were sane at the time you saw them and talked to them?
Finally! We left Kebel to find the horses, and moved on to more fertile ground. We’ll ask the man who wasn’t sure if there was a police officer at the scene before him; the man who wasn’t sure how many people were at the scene, or who they were, or what they looked like. Let’s ask the man who didn’t know which child sat in the backseat of his patrol car as he drove her to the police station. Let’s ask the man who searched the premises but conveniently not the basement. Let’s ask the man who noticed next to nothing because he was dispatched to a residence where “a girl might be dead” and all he was interested in was the girl who might be dead. Really?
Q. Describe the girl.
A. Physical appearances?
No, officer, not physical appears; some other kind of appearances.
Q. Have you ever been - attempted to find out who the police were who were there when you arrived there?
A. No.
Q. You don't know?
A. No.
Q. Are you supposed to make that part of your record?
A. The reason I don't know who the officers were, I was not particularly interested in them. I received the run there, possibly a dead girl. That was my utmost interest.
Q. Now, Car No. 83, Officer Kaiser, who is that?
A. Sgt. William Kaiser, Homicide.
Q. Homicide - was he one that was there?
A. Yes, sir.
Q. How was the girl dressed?
A. What girl was that, sir?
Q. The girl you found there.
A. Sylvia?
Q. Yes.
Frustration for the attorney, but comedy for the courtroom! I was only interested in the girl who might be dead. The one I saw on the mattress. I didn’t notice much of anything else. How was the girl dressed? What girl? Well, obviously, Batgirl! Fooled you! Batgirl wasn’t there. Please describe how Supergirl was dressed. Fooled you again! I can’t imagine what girl, so I’m clearly in the corner of the best member of the Keystone Cops. Perhaps he wasn’t even interested in the only thing he said he was interested in. I know! He thinks he’s funny. Let’s test him:
Q. Can you tell us the names of the people who were in there at the time you talked to Sylvia?
A. At the time I talked to Sylvia?
Oh no, and I thought we’d get him! What were the names of the people who were in there when you talked to Sylvia about Batgirl? Well I didn’t really notice…hey! That’s not funny! I object your honor! I withdraw the question. Who was there when you talked to Sylvia about the boy who might be dead? Well, she…hey! That’s not funny either! I must object your honor! One more time and you will be held in contempt of court. Actually, that’s ok, I’m in more than contempt of that court, and the fictional attorney playing tricks on Dixon can join me.
While we’re objecting, let’s object to something more relevant:
MR. ERBECKER: I object for the reason the officer testified he was there a limited time, no time for any extended observation of the conduct, demeanor, mannerisms and deportment of the defendant Gertrude Baniszewski. The record is barren of any special training in psychology or psychiatry of the arresting officer. There is no evidence of any prior experience of the arresting officer in a similar situation, where he was called upon to decide the sanity or insanity of any person within the purview of his duties as an arresting officer, a police officer. For the further reasons, the record is barren of any question and answer by the officer with reference to any psychosis or as to any abnormality of Gertrude Baniszewski and any testimony by the officer by virtue of his capacity as an officer and limited time she was in his observation would certainly be not a basis on which to predicate an opinion.
THE COURT: Overruled. The question calls for a yes or no answer.
A. I formed no opinion, no.
No opinion? Dixon? And Erbecker’s objection is overruled? The first responder who assiduously avoided noticing much of anything important, one who is nothing close to a mental health professional, let’s ask him about the apparent mental state of Mrs. Wright. Erbecker’s objection is odd and yet not odd. It is odd given that he has Gertrude dead-set on a course that will, and could only, result in failure; i.e. the insanity plea. It is not odd that he would want the opinion of Sherlock Holmes, in his Officer Dixon manifestation, entered into testimony. His plan is much better. Four mental health professionals will testify, those that I call the Big Four. The odds of one of them saying that Gertrude was insane at the time of the…and here’s Gertrude’s problem. Sylvia wasn’t murdered. She knew that. Jenny knew that. Stephanie knew that. The rest were not sure what happened. But hypothetically speaking, if Gertrude got knocked out trying to break up a fight in the kitchen, and when she revived, Stephanie, Jenny, and Sylvia were in the basement, and Sylvia was badly injured, it would be difficult to know which girl was responsible. If it’s Jenny, give her up in an instant. But what if it’s Stephanie? My daughter? The one who very shortly will be screaming for a lawyer? And what happened? Where’s the invisible stove? Did Sylvia hit her head on the stove first? The stove disappears, leaving the gas pipe sticking up out of the floor. Or did Gertrude get knocked into the stove? Still, put Sylvia on the mattress and hold off calling the cops until you can get to the bottom of it. What happened, Jenny? I don’t know. What happened, Stephanie? I don’t know. So Jenny and Stephanie stick together, and the adults in the house can not get a straight answer. Go check on Sylvia. She’s dead! Now the complicated gets more complicated.
So it is clear that one must be careful when soliciting opinions as to whether a person is insane. That should be left to expert witnesses. It has already been noted elsewhere on this website that none of the Big 4 would say that Gertrude was insane. There is a slight issue concerning one of these experts. How good of a lawyer was Mr. Erbecker? That’s hard to say. How comprehensive was his research into the case? Well, I think of Relkin. He was the expert paid by the defense to analyze Gertrude’s mental state. He testified at length, and some of his testimony is key to understanding the dynamics that existed within Gertrude’s house. Even so, there are certain things that when they come to light, undermine one’s belief in a person’s credibility. In many instances that is unfair, and I believe firmly that people have a right to free themselves of the skeletons in their closet. But! If you’re the attorney in a murder trial, doing your research is a must. The jury is made up of ordinary folks, and any commonly held conceptions as well as misconceptions, any unfair or prejudiced beliefs, will lead the jurors to their conclusions. Thorough research can head off very unwanted surprises:
Q. Mr. Relkin, when you were on the stand previously you testified you had worked or been employed at LaRue Carter Hospital?
A. Yes.
Q. Did you neglect to tell the jury you were also a patient there?
A. You did not ask me.
Q. Is that a fact?
A. Yes, it is.
Q. Over what period of time?
A. I was a patient there from about March of '64 to April '65 and I was out several months in the summer of '64. I was a patient from March to about August and then from about October or November till the following April.
Whoops! This is a fundamental blunder. What does the jury think now? The expert witness for the defense was a patient at the same hospital where he now works. And he was released in August 1964. That wasn’t very long ago. So the insanity defense will simply not work. And as each expert witness takes the stand, each slaying the insanity dragon in turn, Erbecker resorts to bullying; i.e. reciting the long list of terrible things that were done to this girl, and insisting that the expert witness agree as to the type of person who would do such things. Each stands his ground. Erbecker’s tactic won’t work, and quite frankly are very annoying. I rarely agree with Mr. New, but I do agree with his frustration on this issue:
THE COURT: Now, what is it, Mr. New?
MR. NEW: For the purpose of the record we think this has reached the point of abuse, not only of the witness, but the jury, court and all parties. Mr. Erbecker willfully, intentionally, answer by answer - every one objectionable and he knows in advance they are objectionable. He does it to incite and certainly abuse and try the patience of everybody in the courtroom, knowing it is improper. Certainly as an officer of the court, he has a responsibility to behave himself when he is trying a First Degree Murder case. To persist along these lines is improper. He knows it is improper. I would like him admonished. This could go on into the night. As I remember, this hearing lasted almost three hours. For him to sit and start down question by question and answer by answer, and do this to the jury when they have had no lunch, is improper and I think he ought to be censored out of the presence of the jury.
MR. BOWMAN: I'd like to agree and disagree with some of Mr. New's remarks. We have had no lunch and it is 1:35 P.M. by the clock in the court room and I think that is at Your Honor's insistence. I object to that. It has made me quite uncomfortable. I am sure the jury is. I don't see how they are receiving any evidence in any degree of clarity, and possibly if Mr. Erbecker's conduct is reprehensible, as Mr. New suggests, which I doubt, it might be because he is hungry too.
I must say that I find myself trying to determine which is more objectionable; Erbecker’s tactics, or the fact that everyone was hungry and hadn’t eaten lunch yet. There’s a White Castle not far away! A sack of Belly Bombers might do everyone some good. It is interesting that while one of the key expert witnesses had been a patient, Gertrude had not. In fact, apart from a good dose of self-pity, a stronger does of passivity, and a penchant to deal with life’s problems by misusing the drugs given to her by a doctor, although refraining from the kind of alcohol abuse that Lester did not refrain from, Gertrude was as sane as everyone else. Well, as sane as some people, and perhaps more sane than many people.
So given all of these considerations, and the fact that Gertrude was clearly not insane, and did not suffer from clinical paranoia or sadism, I’m at a total loss. Lester and Betty arrive on October 5th. They talk to Sylvia, Jenny and Gertrude. I think Sylvia talked to her parents about a critical issue. I think Sylvia also spoke with Barbara Sanders about it. Gertrude told Sylvia’s parents that the girls could stay with her until, at the latest, October 26th. I think that Lester agreed that he would take Sylvia and Jenny home with them at that time, wherever home would be then. Lester seemed to wander around like a pop-corn and sandwich selling hobo, rattling off a long list of the places he had lived, to where he dragged his family. This included a bizarre and seemly inexplicable foray to California, only to return to where he had been before. Was Lester running from something? Was he told to leave or else? That is simply musing at this point. Gertrude gives us the same implausible situation. She has lived around Indianapolis for much of her life. And she’s poor; soup and crackers we will eat. And of all the strange and anonymous men orbiting the strange planet known as 3850 East New York Street, one of the strangest, although not anonymous, is Mr. Guthrie. Suddenly, like Lester, the whole family is packed off to somewhere other than Indiana. In Gertrude’s case, she goes to Kansas, and then California, only to return right she started from. California! Gertrude and Lester both disappeared into the Golden State. Lester says that he pulled up his stakes, like they do at the carnivals he sold concessions at, and brought everyone to California, only to return months later. Not until after Easter! I have serious doubts about that. I think it possible that at least Betty, Jenny, and…someone else were in Indianapolis for Easter. Just look at the picture! Then! Just like Lester, Gertrude suddenly returns to Indiana. Mr. Guthrie decided that he didn’t like Gertrude’s children. Really? Hmm. So where did Gertie Wright meet Mr. Right? Well, not that Mr. Wright, not the quasi-fictional Freddy Wright..oops! I forgot, Freddy Wright was Sylvia’s husband, just ask the girl in the backseat of Dixon’s car, you know, the one he never saw and the one who demanded a lawyer as soon as she walked into the police station. I meant Denny Wright. If someone is in labor at the hospital, you’ll have to give someone at the hospital the name of the father. Not the real name! I would like to play a word game, although I am not nearly as good at it as Jenny and Stephanie. It goes like this..where did Denny Wright live? Don’t know? He lived where Freddy Wright lived. Where’s that? Well, head east on East New York and stop at the first cross street. Still don’t know? You stop at…how many Dennys does it take to have enough Dennys for a fictional 3850 East New York Street? Oh come on! It takes 3 of course! It takes an enigmatic Number 3! Denny Wright Sr, Denny Wright Jr, and North Denny Street! The universe if full of coincidences, sorry Special Agent Gibbs, 2 Dennys and a Denny Street. How was that? Ok, pretty bad. If I visited Gertrude before October 26, 1965, I could walk out onto her front porch, although if her former and mysterious neighbor, the man so dear to nosy neighbor lady, is standing there, I will leave him to Gertie to deal with, seeing how she had dealt with him before. And if there’s a 2 foot-tall police dog standing there, you know the one who was 3 feet tall but shrank in the rain, I will leave him to the Leppar boy, assuming that he wasn’t there to help his father paint Shirley’s bedroom. Instead I will look over at Denny Street and wonder at the coincidence. That was a digression. So Gertrude meets Mr. Guthrie, and Mr. Guthrie meets the children. I don’t like your kids! He didn’t say that, not right away. Apparently it took living in Kansas, and then going to California, or living in California and then going to Kansas, for the witless and seemingly fictional Mr. Guthrie to say…I don’t like your kids! What’s a mother to do? What’s a Lester Likens to do? Go back to Indiana like nothing ever happened. Of course, you should get a divorce. I’ll stop and let Gertrude tell us about it, starting with her divorcing John Sr:
Q. You divorced him then and were you remarried again?
A. Yes, I was married to Edward Gutherie.
Q. Where was that?
A. Hutchinson, Kansas.
Q. How long were you married to him?
A. About six months.
Q. What happened to that marriage?
A. Well, he objected to the children very much and we were not getting along. I came back to Indianapolis with the children.
Q. Who got your divorce?
A. He got it on his own.
Q. Who got your first divorce?
A. I don't remember his name really.
Q. After you came back to Indiana and were still married to Mr. Gutherie, what happened?
A. I went back with Mr. Baniszewski.
Divorce John, go to Hutchinson, Kansas, and then California after marrying the enigmatic Mr. Gutherie. Stay with him all of 6 months, and then leave. Then go back to the man you were married to before, and it’s like nothing ever happened. Detail of absurdity alert! She didn’t get a divorce, Mr. Gutherie got the divorce. Did he really? What if he didn’t? Then you’re still married to him, which could be a big problem if you want to get married again. There must be proof! Just check with the divorce lawyer. Who was that? Likens Saga answer coming…3.2.1...I don’t remember! So just what was it that had Lester and Gertrude run from Indiana? Then return? Enigmatic indeed.
All of that aside, Lester and Betty walk out of Gertrude’s house and disappear into Florida. Well, Lester did. Nonetheless, Gertrude can’t have hated Sylvia that much. In fact, not at all. Otherwise, tell Lester to take his girls and leave. She didn’t do that. Now it’s October 6th. Now it’s October 7th. Before long, it’s October 12th. Now! Something goes horribly wrong. And there it is! The dreaded Two Weeks. The Two-Weeks Hydra has crawled up from the basement. Gertrude must now inexplicably abuse, torture and kill a girl she had no hate for days ago. Hey Gertrude, over here! A riddle for you! How many days does it take to not ruin your life? Don’t know? Fourteen, and that’s not an enigmatic number, unless fourteen is Two Weeks, and then it couldn’t be anymore enigmatic if it tried! Lester will be back in fourteen days! Let’s say Two Weeks, because two is a smaller number than fourteen, so it will seem like less time! You had no problems on October 5th. You had no problems on October 11th. What’s that? You must do what you must do? You woke up one morning and simply had to see your suddenly manifest destiny through to its horrible conclusion? Good Heavens, you must have had a psychotic breakdown..no..your paranoia caught up to you and...no…you are a clinical sadist! Sorry, I forgot. What happened, Gertrude? You know its, funny, but I don’t really know. Perhaps she doesn’t really know where she is. Maybe this isn’t 3850 East New York Street. It would be strange indeed if you woke up one morning and found yourself on a movie screen looking out at all the people looking in. You’re trapped, and the script plays out until the dramatic end of the movie! And what a movie it was! How strange it would be if you then found yourself sitting in the living room of your shabby rental house with a black eye, holding a note that one of your children gave you. Now the real show begins. Perhaps a dark cloud of disarray descended from the sky and enveloped Indianapolis’ most infamous address.