Brian Crawford was savoring the warm evening breeze as he sat out under the oak tree in his front yard. Sipping on a cool one, he looked around admiring the landscaping he had performed on his property. With it being mid-July, he knew his time was quickly winding down for addressing the countless number of projects he still had on his mental agenda. He would be focusing his efforts at the university in less than a month.
At age 36, Brian was very much the non-traditional college student. However, Brian had had some lucrative jobs in the past which, combined with his reluctance to spend money, meant he had been able to accumulate a fair amount. While he was still contracting work out, he was doing so judiciously to allow him to focus on bettering himself. Gaining an education was Brian’s primary focus in life these days.
Gazing around his property, his focus had drifted to his ’85 Riviera. Brian begrudgingly admitted it didn’t look as sharp as it did when he had purchased it new fifteen years earlier, but it would always be Old Reliable to him. He was admiring its still elegant lines when the telephone rang. It was Nathan.
Brian had a checkered history with Nathan; he loathed the guy, but knew it best to separate emotion from business. Nathan had tossed a decent amount of business his way over the last few years.
As Brian answered the phone, he was given an offer for a quick consulting job. Nathan assured him it would be three days maximum which included drive time. The fee for his work was quite handsome and it persuaded Brian to accept the offer. He said he would leave in the morning.
Hanging up the phone, with daylight starting to wane, Brian walked out to his pole barn and opened the door. Scanning the interior reflected Brian’s only true allowance of spending money – even then, it was modest. Brian had a fetish for full-sized General Motors products, seven of which were in the barn. The Riviera was the only one parked outside. Brian had always rationalized the purchases by stating he needed them in his business. This much was true.
Scanning his collection, the newest of which was twelve years old, Brian realized the Riviera hadn’t been truly exercised in a while. Throwing his gear into the Riviera, he went to bed and arose early the next morning.
At exactly 4:00 am, Brian emerged from the house and got into the Riviera. Hitting the starter resulted in a very familiar sound followed by the engine springing to life. Letting it settle into a slow idle, Brian put the car in drive and headed north.
The Riviera was running great. Brian was happy he had taken it, as none of his other cars was as comfortable. He knew its 307 cubic inch V8 was no powerhouse, but it had enough power to make cruising comfortable and enjoyable.
Arriving in Minneapolis nine hours later, Brian was full of energy despite his long drive. This was part of the reason he owned nothing but large, older GM products; he found them supremely comfortable, highly reliable, and they blended into their surroundings. It was a triple win for him as each of these factors was critical to his mission.
The next two days flew by rapidly for Brian as there were simply so many details to address within his given timeframe. The Riviera was a huge asset throughout this contractual period. The thought was crossing Brian’s mind to address some of the various appearance issues on the Riviera upon his return. The old girl did deserve something for fifteen years of faithful service.
On the third day, Brian resoundingly met his objective. Brian had the Riviera full of fuel when he set out to return home.
He did not see the white Caprice that was following him from a distance.
Two hours out of Minneapolis, Brian pulled the Riviera into a truck stop. As he went inside for a quick snack, and to meet his client for final payment, he did not notice the white sedan pull into the parking lot and park next to an identical blue one. Meeting Nathan inside, Brian sat down across the booth from him.
“There was a success in the Twin Cities,” Brian said dryly to Nathan. “You have what you owe me?”
“You are very good, Mr. Crawford. Here is your fee,” Nathan said, passing Brian a thick, white envelope. “Can we count on your assistance again in the future?”
“Only under the right circumstances; there are other priorities I have at this time,” Brian stated.
Nathan nodded in understanding.
After finishing his snack, Brian walked back outside. Scanning the parking lot, his senses were immediately heightened upon seeing the two plain Chevrolet Caprices parked next to each other. Brian calmly unlocked the Riviera, got in, and started the engine. He carefully eased out of the parking lot and back onto the interstate. Looking in his rearview mirror, he saw the headlights on both Caprices illuminate and they started moving as he exited the parking lot.
Thinking of various scenarios, Brian was more focused on what was behind him than what was in front of him. With the cruise control set at 70 mph, the two Caprices were staying behind him about a quarter-mile. Brian dropped his speed to 60 mph; the Caprices stayed at the same distance behind him. He didn’t dare go faster than the posted 70 mph speed limit – so what to do?
Staying calm, Brian abruptly took the next exit. Thinking quickly, Brian turned the Riviera left at the end of the ramp, went across the bridge, and turned left again – back toward Minneapolis.
The white Caprice saw the Riviera’s movements and followed while the blue Caprice continued on the interstate.
As the white Caprice followed the Riviera, the blue Caprice turned around by cutting through the median.
Brian was experiencing a controlled panic. He saw the white Caprice following him. At this point he knew he had two options: He could make a run for it or he could attempt another evasion. With the Caprice rapidly closing in on him, and knowing the capabilities of his ’85 Riviera versus those of his LT1 powered pursuers, Brian knew his only realistic option was to evade again.
Jamming the accelerator to gain a little distance, Brian’s speedometer climbed to its 85 mph maximum. When his speed hit 85 mph, Brian turned out his headlights, slammed on the brakes, and turned the wheel to the left, aiming for the median. His goal was to give himself some space and distance to navigate the median then proceed in the dark for a while to evade the Caprice.
Brian’s plan would have worked flawlessly had he entered the median a mere 10′ on either side of where he did. He was not aware of the concrete drop inlets sprinkled in the median for drainage. Brian did not realize this particular one was slightly above ground level and had rutted on either side, exacerbating the height issue. Brian could not have hit this drop inlet any more square, ripping the oil pan off the Riviera. The Riviera’s engine seized only a few hundred feet away from where he re-entered the highway.
Both Caprices, along with several others, were upon him nearly instantaneously. Brian did not resist arrest.
As he sitting in the backseat of the white Caprice, the officer came up to him. “Mr. Crawford, you are under arrest for the murder of Tony Santino and 29 counts of suspicion of murder. You do appear to be quite the prolific hit-man, Mr. Crawford.”
“Only 29? It appears I was doing something right.”
“Mr. Crawford, you and your Riviera have earned quite the reputation. You must certainly like it as you’ve used it quite often. It’s what gave you away this time.”
As Brian Crawford was being questioned in the Caprice, his beloved, one owner 1985 Buick Riviera was being loaded onto a rollback for transport to the impound lot.
Great story! Just a random recollection, that rear quarter view of the Riv reminded me of how awkward it was to access those trunks, both in this sixth generation model and the downsized seventh. My mother briefly considered a ’91 Riviera, until I pointed out she would have great difficulty hefting grocery bags over that sharply slanting rear fascia and extended bumper. It was quite a stretch for an elderly lady to reach that far. We opted instead for a gently used ’89 Eldorado, with its much more squared off rear trunk lid and fascia/bumper, much easier on the back.
Great story! I was on on the edge of my seat near the end.
I loved this! Please do more…the pictures and the story worked so well, plus it was very creative and well-written.
Brilliant — there’s a small part of me that wants to be like this guy… It makes me wonder about the histories of several of my cars….cars purchased at City Impound Auctions.
Junqueboi, that crossed my mind when I wrote that!
Come to think of it, one of my impound purchases happened to be this $50 1973 Buick ……
Mr. Crawford made one fatal error: he should have rented a silver Camry.
Great story. It is funny that you found one of these in this color combo, as this car is a near twin of one owned by my neighbor down the street. My neighbor’s is an original survivor that has spent its life in the garage and is still stunning. I don’t think he has the rear luggage rack, though. I always thought that this color combo was one of the more attractive on this car.
Actually, he should have bought one.
Cash. Given the owner extra to “borrow” the plate for a few days…till he gets to the DMV, dontcha know?
And then torched the car once done. As he should have done each time.
The value of knowing a car’s capabilities, is outweighed by the police’ ability to profile…right down to type of aliases, habits such as food stops…yes, and preferred cars.
JP, I’m with you on this color combo and this Riv is a one owner car, also. The owner also has a certain red ’71 Ford LTD convertible.
Excellent lunch time reading! Thanks.
Apparently the old Riv didn’t blend into the surroundings as well as it did 15 years earlier 😉 Good read Jason.
Was anyone else inadvertently humming Springsteen’s “Murder Incorporated” while reading this?
When I turned 16 my parents told me I would get one car from them in my lifetime and I could take it at whatever point I wished. Being 16 I of course wanted it then. They let me order a new 1981 Riviera, same as the body style in this article. It was not the fastest car on the road but I can never see another one of these cars without smiling. I would love to drive one again before I die.
Its funny, my parents said the exact opposite, you will never get a car from us untill we die. As my mother just hit 50 I gotta ways to go. I was 16 in 95 so I think had they offered I would have had to have one of these as well.
Owned too many of these 79-85 Rivieras. Remember the movie Goodfellows? I always thought the goodfellas of the 80’s would be perfectly comfortable in this Riv along with the Eldo and Seville. I can remember squeezing a 5 foot step ladder in the trunk so I could take above eye level pictures with my camera. Yes that trunk was exactly 5’1″ across! Plenty of room for at least 2 victims. LOL I never liked this particular color combo of brown or as Buick called it briar. The best color combo I had was my 85 Collectors Edition. White with a multi toned leather suede interior trimmed in saddle with the real walnut accents instead of the fake wood of lesser Rivs. Had a dark charcoal 84 T-Type that was equally handsome. Maybe because both were like the feature car with the Landau top.
Another great piece of writing thank you Jason.When these Rivs were new I paid them no attention now I’m interested in them,it’s a good looker in the first shot still not sure about the squared off roof though
It’s that telltale missing bumper apron that gave him away…
Cool story Jason!
I would have bet that old Olds 307 would make it a couple of miles down the road without an oil pan before seizing up. I guess he was really flogging it though 🙂
To the story: I had a friend and co-worker…he was about Brian’s age; independently wealthy…sort of. He had money but he did seem to need to work.
We worked in a county office. While all of us were buying Hondas and Chevettes and Escorts…and used Futuras…Rob was buying a brand-new 1985 Riviera. Had all the geegaws none of us could afford to have or even look at closely…he gave our boss a ride, and Boss Jeff played with the locking doors until Rob almost blew up. Had an installed cellular phone – a rarity in those days.
My guess, after all these years, was that Rob was slightly mobbed up. Maybe he did some “favors” for “the boys” – his home was only a few blocks from where Cleveland mobster Danny Greene lived and later died. Somehow, eventually, Rob’s money tree shriveled and died…not suddenly, but he wound up one more struggling working stiff by stages.
I have to admit, this story isn’t entirely fictional.
Last summer I took a tour of the old Missouri State Penitentiary here in Jefferson City. It opened for business the same weekend the Battle of the Alamo was being fought and was closed in 2004.
Anyway, the tour guide was the former warden. He told of one prisoner who was a hit-man and was focused on getting an education, although this guy claimed 50 odd hits. He claimed the guy was very open and honest about his past. It seemed like a good springboard for a story.
A good read, Jason.
A fun read. Looking forward to the next CC Fiction story!
I have an ’85 Riv story. A friend of ours who was the head of a technology company in Chicago had an ’85 he bought new. It was stolen right out of his parking space during lunch. He never saw it again. This was in about 1988 and it was replaced with a navy blue Park Avenue. He always talked fondly about that Riviera…