Chapter 3 – Wheels of Rage by Kurt Saxon

THE AMATEUR ROBBERS TRY TO RIP OFF THE ESTABLISHMENT AND THERE IS A BONNIE AND CLYDE GUNFIGHT IN A QUIET NEIGHBORHOOD

Cash finances were a constant hassle to the club. It is true they had the credit cards that Brogan, Paranoid George and Ape were burning. They lived pretty good on them. They ate at the Ramada Inn every night and they ate steaks and drank beer and generally lived like kings. Also, all the gas was free.

However, the day-to-day realities of being broke was a tremendous inconvenience. Apartment rents, a monthly rent of $150 on the clubhouse, frequent bail, motorcycle upkeep and general expenses all take cash.

Most outlaw bikers are uneducated or too unstable to qualify for good jobs. Big Mike sells insurance, Black Bart is a draftsman and Paranoid George often works for a shyster lawyer intimidating witnesses.

Pigpen and Samson won’t work at all. One of the group is on welfare for being insane. The others don’t consider what they do for a living to be a fair question. It naturally follows that they will resort to banditry if they think they can get away with it.

Though not being criminals in the strictest sense, they do occasionally attract those of the criminal element. Big Mike works fast to exclude such types lest his club get a bad reputation.

A couple of characters called Fuzzy and Whodat joined the club and started using it for their own commercial purposes. Fuzzy approached Big Mike one day with a tale of woe about one of his friends who was busted and in jail on some traffic warrants. Actually, the friend was a pimp and feared that his stable of girls would stray if he was locked up for long. Big Mike did not know this so he used the club’s bondsman to bail the creep out.

The pimp promised to pay the bail back but never did. The pimp’s best girl got busted for armed robbery. Big Mike decided to let her stay in jail because it was too likely she would skip.

She was bailed out by her mother and promptly went on another robbing spree. First she tried to rip off a motorist stopped at a red light. He would not open the car door so she put a round through the window.

Then she went into a bar and lured a guy out to her car. He thought he was going to get a little but instead she put a gun in his face. He didn’t think much of that.
Her next stop was at a laundromat. She stuck her gun up to the owner’s belly and demanded his money. Just then some customers came in so she hid her gun, kissed him goodbye and left.

Then Fuzzy and Whodat started pulling armed robberies. Big Mike told them, “I don’t care what you do on your time but just don’t do it in Glendale.”

They continued with their petty stickups very near Glendale until Big Mike threatened to rip off their colors. Then he lectured the group on the evils of crime: “I don’t mind someone sticking up a bank or something like that but when you start picking on private citizens, that shows a complete lack of class. Here’s some poor slob that works for a hundred bucks a week. To rip him off for fifty and put a dent in his economy; I really can’t see that.”

One of his thugs was a professional bank robber. Big Mike is a little bitter because he didn’t let anyone in the club in on it but still admires the guy for what he did.

They called him Whispering Smith. He seldom spoke above a whisper unless he was angry and chain-whipping someone.

Big Mike did not find out what he was doing until he was caught doing it. He hit about thirty banks and they charged him with eleven.

His method of operation was to take a scooter and hit a bank just after it closed. He wore a bullet proof vest, a helmet and a face shield. He would smash the glass door with a 45 automatic, go in, vault the counter and make everybody lie on the floor.

When he cleaned out the till, he and his partner would speed off on the motorcycle. After going a couple of blocks they would turn a corner and shoot up a ramp into a panel truck.

A witness saw him turn into a lot and go into the truck and alerted the nearest police car. There were squad cars all over the area and the truck was soon surrounded and blocked. After a hysterical scene by a scared detective with a bull horn, Whispering Smith opened the doors and surrendered.

The North Hollywood Police Department admitted that had the three decided to fight it out they could have taken half the N.H.P.D. with them. As it turned out, Whispering Smith got nine years in prison.

Paranoid George figured if Whispering Smith could do it, he could do it too. He got together with Pinocchio and Ape and they planned to surprise Big Mike with the money for a scooter parts store.

With his usual brilliant logic he figured Friday evening was the best time to hit the bank because then there was more money for cashing checks. That Friday they showed up in one of the busiest banks in Los Angeles. They had left their colors home and were wearing business suits.

Paranoid George and Pinocchio got in line and Ape stood near the door as lookout. After waiting twenty minutes in line, Paranoid George was fidgety and anxious. The man in front of him was reading a newspaper so that he did not see the line move up another body. Paranoid George gave him a little push lest someone sneak into the empty space.

The man looked around angrily and said, “Stop shoving, you hippy punk.” Before he knew it he was on the floor and Paranoid George and Pinocchio were stomping him. Ape left his post by the door and rushed over. He added a few practiced kicks at the offender’s rib cage before a guard shoved him aside.

The frenzied guard drew his pistol and screamed, “Let this man alone. Back up. Somebody call the police!”

Pinocchio snatched the guard’s gun and banged him on the head with it. Then, in all the yelling and rushing about, the three Dillingers ran like hell.

A week later they were riding around, still intent on a robbery, and Paranoid George saw a neat little bank in the suburbs.

This time Ape planned the caper. They would write a note and hand the teller a sack for the money. The only paper they had was a grocery list and Ape wrote their demands on the back of it.

They went into the bank and Paranoid George stepped up to the nearest window and handed the teller the sack and the note. She read aloud, “Loaf bread, two cans Spam, Granny Goose potato chips.”

Paranoid George said, impatiently, “Turn it over, man.”

The girl turned the paper over and read, spelling out the mistakes, “Give me all YOR money or I will blow YOR HED—?” She was by then giggling out of control. Then she signaled the girl in the next booth, “Marcy, read this robbery note; you won’t believe it.”

Ape, who was standing behind Paranoid George, asked angrily, ” Does that mean she ain’t going to give us the money?”

Paranoid George and Pinocchio each grabbed one of Ape’s arms and hustled him out of the bank.
A little later Big Mike made a plan of his own. He was standing in line at the unemployment office when he saw a Brinks man carrying a money bag past the side door. Figuring that the single guard would take the money bag around back, he thought he had a pushover.

He got together with Noah and Black Bart and laid out his scheme. Since a single guard walked around in back of the unemployment office and out of sight of the armored truck it would be easy. Big Mike and Noah would wait around in back for the guard. Noah would grab hold of the guard’s drawn 357 Magnum and Big Mike would knock him out and take the money bag. Black Bart and the two others would loiter near the truck and if the driver got out to aid his partner, he would be shot.

The next Friday morning at ten, Big Mike and Noah positioned themselves at the back of the building. For Big Mike it was sweaty palms all the way. But he figured on taking at least $25,000 so the tense minutes would be very worthwhile.

Big Mike and Noah saw the Brinks truck pull up at the curb and they scrunched down out of sight. They waited for what seemed ages and then were startled to hear the truck rev up and pull away.

Not trusting their ears they waited for Black Bart to come back there and tell them what was happening. Sure enough, he came charging around the corner yelling, “Hey, we’ve blown it, man. We’ve blown it.”

At that, Big Mike thought they were going to have to shoot their way out so he pulled out his gun and got ready. Then Black Bart explained that the hit was off. He led them around near the side door and showed them the deposit drop box.

What had happened was that the guard had carried the money bag just past the side door and put it in the deposit drop built into the wall. That’s why only one guard did the job. He was under his partner’s guns all the time.

While Big Mike was still smarting over this humiliation, a friend offered him $300 to burn a building down for the insurance. Big Mike was agreeable and that night he went to the building with a keg of gunpowder and spread it all over inside. Then he struck a match to it and it went up and he took off.

Next day, the friend called and said, “Hey, I thought you were going to do a job for me.”

Big Mike answered that he had done it and the friend told him the building was still standing. Big Mike went back to the scene and found that the fire had been put out. The building was in a Mexican neighborhood and an old woman, suspicious of Gringos, had watched him. When she saw the flames she called the fire department and they were able to put the fire out before it had done much damage.
Big Mike would have been glad to do it all over again but the owner decided to remodel the place.

Due to the miserable luck in their criminal careers the bikers were very depressed. Several of them, including Big Mike, got jobs. This took the edge off their problems but a few working outlaws never achieve security for the whole club.

While the bikers went over more plans to rip off the establishment, Fuzzy and Whodat were still pulling petty heists. Big Mike and his lieutenants were deliberating what to do with them.

One day they heard that Fuzzy and Whodat had stuck up a cleaning shop in Glendale. It’s a stupid bird that fouls its own nest and the club had, so far, been on the best of terms with the Glendale police. The first step in repairing the damage to the club’s honor was to call the club’s bail bondsman and recall Fuzzy and Whodat’s bonds. The next step was to catch them and rip off their colors.

The next day, Big Mike stopped off at the clubhouse after work and found two scooters missing, along with a lot of tools. It was an inside job and there was no doubt that it was done by Fuzzy and Whodat.

Figuring this was the last straw with those two, he went home and got his 45 automatic and a 38 police special and a couple of boxes of ammo for each. Then he went to collect two trigger-happy killers called Muskrat and Ten-gun.

Muskrat had been a hit man for a gang in Boston and had killed three of the competition. He was one of those cold eyed killers that make legends.

Ten-gun had wasted an undisclosed number of people in slum wars. He got his name for carrying so many guns whenever he went anyplace.

Big Mike decided the bikers should go on the hit in business suits. This was so they might get the job done before they were noticed.

He first went to Muskrat’s and found he did not have a suit. What clothes he had on were bad enough but the rest of his clothes were rags and garbage.

Big Mike decided to get Ape’s Mastercharge Card and buy Muskrat a suit from one of those late opening stores on Hollywood Boulevard. They went over to get Ten-gun and found he had a suit so it was no time at all before they went storming over to Ape’s for the credit card.

Ape’s wife, Sylvia, let them in and said Ape was out watching a dirty movie. The three sat around for about an hour drinking Ape’s beer and waiting. While they drank, the hi-fi next door was blaring and getting on Big Mike’s nerves.
Sylvia said the hi-fi belonged to the landlord, a young guy whose dad had given him the building for a birthday present. She said the hi-fi drove her nuts but Ape was an animal and nothing bothered him. Besides, the landlord was pretty liberal on the rent payments and Ape wanted to keep on the good side of him.

She also mentioned that the landlord was the exact same size as Muskrat and had oodles of suits. Big Mike figured they could save a lot of time ripping off one of the landlord’s suits. They could also do something about the hi-fi for Sylvia’s tip.

Big Mike and Ten-gun went to the next apartment and banged on the landlord’s door. When he opened it Big Mike briefly flashed his Sheriff John police badge and said, “LAPD Narcotics. Get back. We’re searching the place.”

The landlord was about twenty-five and was wearing a gold Nehru jacket and obviously phony sideburns and moustache. “You got a warrant, pigs?” he asked.

Big Mike didn’t like that a bit because when he plays a role he believes it. In his best Dragnet style he said, “Okay, Supermouth, shut up and put your hands against the wall. Now, spread those feet, slob.”

Ten-gun searched him and emptied his wallet of a whole fist full of bills. The landlord did not see this. In the wallet was also a gun permit.

“You got a pistol; where is it?” Ten-gun demanded.

“Forget my pistol, cop,” snapped the landlord. “It’s legal and I don’t want you to touch it. And be careful. My old man owns this whole block. He’ll have you guys busted off the force.”

Big Mike grabbed him and shook him like a rat. “Look, creep,” he said, “Now, you’re being particularly vile and degenerate, not to mention obnoxious and obstructing justice. Tell us where the pistol is or I’ll break your head.”

By this time the landlord was beginning to suspect but this only made him afraid for his life. He led them into a bedroom and pointed to a closet. Ten-gun searched it and found the pistol along with two packages of marijuana, one broken.

“Aha,” chortled Ten-gun. “A lid and a half of grass. I got to give you your rights. You got the right not to say nothin’. And if you talk, you’ll get screwed over no matter what you say.”

“You guys aren’t cops,” said the landlord. “Who put you on to me?”

Big Mike was going through the line of suits in the closet. Most of the suits were Nehru style but he finally found a business suit.
He had meant to smash the hi-fi on his way out. Instead he said, putting his arm around the landlord’s shoulder, “It’s like this, friend; this is a classy neighborhood and you got that hi-fi blaring so we can hear it for blocks. We figure you just have to be a rich swinger with lots of goodies and most likely dope. The easiest kind of hit. People like us just naturally zero in on people like you.”

“How much did you pay for the suit, Mac?” asked Ten-gun.

“Three hundred,” answered the landlord.

“Okay,” said Ten-gun, “Since you’ve been so generous we’ll let you off easy this time.”

Leaving the landlord standing in the bedroom, Big Mike and Ten-gun left and went back to Ape’s place.

Muskrat was delighted with the suit but they had forgotten to get him a shirt and tie to go with it. Ten-gun was all for going back to the landlord’s but Big Mike insisted on going to the store. By the time they had gotten Muskrat all squared away and had watched the late movie on TV, it was one a.m.

It only took a few minutes to drive over to where Fuzzy and Whodat were crashing. Big Mike went up to the door and knocked. His plan was that when Fuzzy opened the door he was going to shoot him. Then they would all move in and gun down Whodat.

No one answered the door but the three had seen lights go off when they stepped on the porch so they knew they were in there. Muskrat told the other two to spread out because Fuzzy and Whodat were going to start firing through the door any second.

Big Mike stopped knocking and yelled, “You sons-of-bitches; if you don’t come out and fight me fair, I’ll come in there after you.”

A bullet whistled through the door just under Big Mike’s nose and he bounded back to the street with the others. They ducked behind a station wagon and opened up. Muskrat put a straight line hip high across the front door while Big Mike and Ten-gun shot out all the windows.

There was a lot of wild and ineffective firing from inside because they did not dare show themselves. The men in the street had the best fire cover and clearly had the upper hand.

After about five minutes and about a hundred shots, the door opened and a stick with a dish rag tied to it came out a little above floor level. Big Mike and the others stopped firing and Muskrat hollered for them to come out with their hands up.

Big Mike hurried to put a fresh clip in his 45 in hopes of hitting them both when they showed. Instead, the girl bandit stuck her head out and screamed, “Would you shoot a woman, you dirty bastards?”

Big Mike hollered back, “We don’t want you. Haul your ass out of there and get back to your pimp?”

The girl replied, “I’m afraid your guys will rape me.”

Ten-gun then yelled, “How do you rape a whore?”

At this, the girl raised a pistol and fired wildly at Ten-gun and shot Muskrat in the leg. Then Big Mike emptied his clip into the building and Muskrat got up off the street and started firing again.

By this time the building was riddled and Big Mike was running out of ammo. He said to the others, “Let’s stop for awhile, we’re getting low. We’ll wait for them to come to the window and start firing, then we’ll kill them and take off.”

So they waited and waited and waited and nothing happened. After a half hour had passed, Big Mike was debating on what to do next when the first car from the police department arrived. Muskrat suggested they put their guns down and they all laid their guns on the pavement.

There were several squad cars coming from both directions by this time. The first one to reach them stopped and the cop behind the wheel asked, “What’s going on?”

Muskrat answered, “Well, we were receiving fire from that building. But they haven’t stirred in the last half hour. We’re worried about them.”

The cop looked at the house and said, “From the looks of that wreck, there, it’s unlikely anyone inside would be alive. Didn’t that occur to you?”

Ten-gun looked at Muskrat and said, “He has a point. Why didn’t we think of that?”

In a few minutes there must have been fifty cars from the police and sheriff’s departments. It was learned later that the neighbors had thought the three gunmen were either Mafia or FBI and so no one called the police. It was Fuzzy and Whodat who had called for help.

After running out of bullets, Fuzzy and Whodat and the girl had lain around on the floor in the back room waiting for the police. Amazingly none of them were hurt.

In a few minutes, all the combatants had been searched and handcuffed. The girl was raising a minor flap accusing one of the deputy sheriffs of copping a feel. They were all then taken to jail and booked but released on bail within twenty-four hours.

The sheriff’s department tried to get the owner of the building to press charges. As Big Mike got it from a deputy, the head of his department called the man and told him what had happened. When he asked him to press charges the owner said, “What are you, some kind of nut? I got insurance on that house. I ain’t going to press charges on no motorcycle gang. As if I didn’t have enough troubles.” Then he hung up.

There were a whole string of charges like property damage, assault with intent to kill, disturbing the peace, discharging a firearm in a residential area and rape. The last charge was brought against Fuzzy and Whodat but later was dropped. Fuzzy and Whodat refused to press charges and Muskrat naturally wouldn’t charge a girl. Probably no one will ever be even brought to trial.

As an aftermath, Big Mike was crashing at the clubhouse with Muskrat after partying all Saturday night. They were both asleep at ten a.m. when a dynamite blast went off on the roof. Big Mike jumped up and grabbed a gun and hollered, “What was that?”

Muskrat just rolled over and said, “A low grade explosive.”

Big Mike ran outside and saw a tall, thin kid with long black hair and engineer boots running away. He couldn’t fire because he had a shotgun and there were innocent people between him and the bomber.

There was not much damage to the clubhouse except for a hole in the roof over the john. But it was enough to get them evicted.

Big Mike put out contracts on Fuzzy and Whodat for general reasons and especially for the bombing, which he was sure Fuzzy had arranged. Still, it was not likely Fuzzy or Whodat would ever be taken as they had probably left the state and changed their names.

A few days later, Big Mike, Noah and Paranoid George were driving around in the camper. When they got to downtown Glendale they saw one of Fuzzy’s friends walking along window shopping. They double parked and Noah and Paranoid George jumped out and grabbed the wretch and threw him down. They figured he must know something for when he recognized them he jumped up and started fighting like a wildcat. It took all three punching and kicking to quiet him down.
They intended to take him out into the desert and question him as to where Fuzzy and Whodat were. If he did not tell them what they wanted to know, they meant to kill him. They dragged him out into the street and tried to stuff him into the back of the camper.

At that he began fighting again and trying to tear away from his captors. A crowd had gathered on the sidewalk and in the street behind the camper. One old lady commented to her neighbor, “It’s funny that three strong men, especially that big hairy one, can’t manage one young man. I guess it’s the devitalized foods. It’s the Communists, you know. They’re devitalizing our food.”

“That’s not exactly it, Maam,” said an old gent a few onlookers away. “You see, Maam, that boy is plenty excited. And when a person’s excited he’s harder to handle. I know, I worked in a madhouse once.”

By this time the victim was weakening and yelling in terror. He was actually screaming like an animal. Big Mike was ashamed for him.

Big Mike and Paranoid George were in the camper pulling on him and Noah was outside trying to push him in.

Then another old man came up and whacked Noah across the back with his cane and hollered, “Police brutality. Cossacks. Release the lad.”

Noah gave a howl of rage and turned on his attacker. Startled, Big Mike and Paranoid George relaxed their holds. The victim broke loose and ran like a scalded dog.

Noah faced the old man speechless with rage but did not hit him. Big Mike jumped out of the camper and said to the two, “Let’s go before we get booked on attempted kidnapping.”

It turned out that the person they were trying to grab did not know what they thought he did. Had they taken him out and questioned him they would probably have ended up killing him. Big Mike said he was sort of glad that they didn’t.

Chapter Four Of WHEELS OF RAGE






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