Rigor MortisChapter 2
- 4 years ago
- 16
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Brooklyn was my Uncle Joe’s little fiefdom.
He was the top cop in the borough and he had the job for a long time now.
He wasn’t that old all things considered because he was the youngest Captain in the history of the Department and rose quickly in the upper echelons of the hierarchy of the New York Police Department.
It seemed to me that Brooklyn had a certain magical air about it. At night, it didn’t have the sparkle of Manhattan but it was not as dark as Staten Island. The demographics were constantly changing inside Brooklyn proper and it had plenty of history dating right back to the War of Independence with battles fought with wins and losses on both sides and lots of blood running in the streets both soldiers and civilians. Brooklyn didn’t identify as being part of the Big Apple at night. It was a place to itself separate and not part of the big town hustle and bustle. Solid and unmoving, it was a world foreign to the Broadway crowd, disappointing to those looking for excitement and still an outdated and conservative place to set down roots at a reasonable cost of living in comparison to its sister across the river to the west.
Joe had an office in the downtown section and it was a short haul to the Brooklyn Bridge and the entrance to the big time in downtown Manhattan and the Hall of Justice that acted as a center of law enforcement for the Metropolitan Area. He used to get me press box tickets to the Brooklyn Dodgers games that gave me an up close and personal look at the game and the players with my favorite team the New York Giants. I always felt a little guilty about that but he liked doing it for me and I couldn’t refuse without offending him. I thing he felt he should be doing more for me but just didn’t have the time. The summer before I joined the military he got me a job down at Manhattan Beach and I turned from a redheaded Irish kid into a brown skinned Italian by the end of the summer. It was basically just picking up trash because the lifeguard jobs were all staffed by these older fucks that were into body building and were more interested in showing off their muscles instead of focusing on the girl’s pretty backsides in those tight little bathing suits that really made my day.
My Uncle was a big guy.
He was six foot seven and carried a lot of weight on those size eleven shoes. He took time off in the early forties to fight the Japanese in the Pacific and he got credit for the time on his police department retirement because it was the right thing to do when the country was involved in an “all out” war against enemies in two different theaters of the war. I was just a young snot-nosed kid in those years and was more interested in reading comic books than wondering where all the men had gone.
He had almost nine thousand cops under his command and he often lamented he needed another nine thousand just to keep the bad guys off the streets in in jail where they belonged. I almost got sent out to Staten Island right after graduating from the police academy but he pulled some strings and got me assigned to Brooklyn where he could keep a close eye on me and sort of mentor me like a rabbi everyone wanted above all else.
He had his office staff and a flying squad of hard hitters for the tough jobs and his bodyguard and two drivers to split the shift because he was on the job around the clock.
We were all high on the adrenalin generated by the charges being brought against the dirty eleven bad guys and I knew my Uncle was exhausted by the constant meeting with the police higher-ups who were conflicted about the whole thing and it was a miracle that they had even let it play out this far. It was a first for the department which was more into “cover up” than transparency in those days.
He had invited me down to the Brooklyn office to meet up with him for a quick lunch at a deli near the police station. I loved that place because they had the greatest French fries and roast beef sandwiches I had ever consumed anywhere ever. To top it all off, they had original New York style cheesecake that stuck to the roof of your mouth and slowly melted down your throat like molten gold. It was the sort of lunch that you had only once and awhile because the calories were enough to stoke the body furnace for an entire day.
During the meal he gave me a box that contained a German Luger that had been taken from a surrendered Nazi officer. He told me that his shooting buddy from the Navy had traded it to him for a Jap flag he had confiscated from a sinking Jap destroyer and kept in his office for conversation and bullshit.
He gave it to me because he already had two Lugers in his possession and didn’t think he needed three unless he was interested in opening up a gun shop with collection pieces as headliners.
I fell in love with that gun but still preferred my .45s because I was totally comfortable with the automatics.
It was easy to see my succulent secretary was fairly busting to break the news to me about the box-seats at the ball park. She gave a short spiel about how she got the info from a source she called “That darling boy at the team’s front office.” I got the distinct impression that no money changed hands in the procurement of the intelligence but her mood indicated she was running on all eight cylinders in the information gathering operation and probably rewarded him in a more personal...
I met my Uncle Joe over at the cop bar on Eighth Avenue that still used sawdust to keep the dirt down on the floor. The scent of the lunchtime menu overpowered the aroma of the beer and spirits that never left the place if you had a sensitive nose. The thing I liked best about the White Rose was their mid-day collection of hot food for the blue-collar workers in the neighborhood. Of course, most of the clientele washed it all down with liberal helpings of the draft beer that tasted like it...
Raymond stood there shaking the raindrops from his obviously borrowed or stolen woman’s umbrella and I could tell from his shifty eyes he was spinning his story with every word that crossed his lips. In all honesty, I didn’t really mind because I was used to Raymond by now and I hoped we could work together without one of us killing the other because underneath it all our dislike was a mirror image. I caught him ogling my secretary Julie’s ass when she bent over to fill my first cup of the...
I knew I should be working on running down the leads in Raymond’s unfortunate demise despite my Uncle’s reluctance to stir things up. It was like we had stepped on an ant-hill with all the Internal Affairs sleazebags poking their noses into the everyday happenings of operational policing. I had to admit it was well within the realm of probability that Raymond’s death was linked to the investigation work he was doing for me on the Donnie Anderson case. Of course that narrowed down the list...
The sky over Manhattan that Monday morning were grey and overcast with a fog that lingered in the long cold stripes called Avenues all the way from the East River to the mighty Hudson rushing brown and swollen out to the Atlantic Ocean. I figured it was not a good time for the news helicopters to be navigating the high-rises and it brought back my fear of the noisy, smelly things that spelled finis to a number of my compadres in the Marine Corps quick response team of which I was one of the...
I should have suspected there was something wrong right off the bat and that it was not a normal middle of the week morning that dreary Wednesday in the city that never sleeps. It was too late now because I was already down at police headquarters swigging down my second cup of overly strong java without benefit of cream or sugar because the spoons were far too dirty to even consider using what with the nasty Asian flu still going around like Montezuma’s revenge on a side trip to Tijuana for...
Rita admitted to me after a few drinks that she was working an assignment from Internal Affairs to weed out the dirty cops taking money from the shadowy cartels that kept the drugs flowing smoothly on the violent streets. I had sort of suspected as much from the way she was asking all the right questions and knew way too much for a rookie cop. Rita told me to be quiet because her room-mate was a light sleeper. I soon discovered it was either a lie or she actually wasn’t aware that her...
The aftermath of the vicious assault on the police headquarters left a lousy taste in my mouth and made me more attentive to possible threats close enough to cause me harm. My Uncle was in a rotten mood and was staying mum on the investigation. That did a lot to increase my sense of paranoia about who was a good guy and who was worth a second look. The day started badly and got worse when my cute secretary with whom I had had some special moments announced in a stage whisper as she was...
I discovered that the Attorney General’s office were a bunch of busy little bees because the police headquarters was swarming with hordes of young men and women all wearing the distinctive jackets with the title “FBI” emblazoned on the back. I knew they had taken the files and were starting to carry the ball on the corruption charges that my Uncle Joe had been fighting to institute these last few years but without success. The case had enough dead bodies to start a tidal wave of protest from...
I got up early that Sunday morning with a determination to put in a run along Central Park West all the way from one end to the other. I actually made it up to eighty-second street before I decided to quit and save it for another day. Saturday night was a bit of a blur but it wasn’t from the booze. I had that under control these days. No, I had gotten a touch of the virus that was floating around the city making working mothers crazy with figuring out what to do with their sneezing,...
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The shock of the gangland style assassinations of the cops sort of turned the city on its ear and a sense of fear and shame could be an indicator of better days ahead. The pushback from the general public was well covered by the fickle media which suddenly pivoted from blaming the cops for everything from blackouts to enforcement of collecting the fares on the mass transit system to praising them for reach-outs to the local populace using things like the Police Athletic League to win the...
Early the next morning, I picked up two coffees and a pair of doughnuts for Gloria and me to pig out on up on the roof of the Federal building downtown. She was frowning at the doughnut but I noticed she didn’t hesitate to shove it in her pretty little mouth and wash it down with a big swallow of Java. The tough FBI Special Agent had been making noises lately about her putting on some extra pounds around the hips and I took it all with a grain of salt because I was so used to most of the...
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The days of the trial were becoming more routine now. I would rather be in a totally different atmosphere but the light at the end of the tunnel was becoming more focused with each passing day. I had to admit it was far better than being in a combat zone or getting shot at on the job, but I really missed the freedom of choosing my own clothes and going to a ball game and taking a day off if I wanted a bit of variety in my life. I made it up with Julie by having her visit me on a conjugal...
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It was a surprise decision made by those above my paygrade to have a joint task force meeting at the Attorney General’s office early Monday morning to discuss the plan of attack and to share intelligence on the current status of the case. Somehow, my Uncle had decided I would be the one to represent his office and our contribution to the evidence against the cartel running the Dirty Cop project. For the first time, I was unsure of my Uncle’s motivation in selecting me because I knew I was on...
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