Absolution

by Henry Hack

  . . .

  All the troops, including two sergeants and a lieutenant from IAB, more or less converged on the apartment simultaneously. After I identified myself and the members of my team, I said, “We came here to arrest Ismael Rosario for the murder of Mordechai Stern. We have arrest and search warrants. We broke down the bedroom door and Rosario went for a gun. Detective Paul put two into him, witnessed by me and Detective Micena.”

  The lieutenant from IAB identified himself as Steven Rubino and said, “Where was the gun when he went for it?”

  “Lieutenant, that is all I’m going to say for now. I, and all the members of my team, wish to invoke the 48 hour rule. Call us to schedule an interview after that time has passed. None of us have been drinking alcohol or doing drugs. I suggest you have us blow in the tube so we can complete our job here.”

  Rubino’s face reddened and he said, “Don’t tell me how to do my job, Lieutenant, and I suggest you speak with us now. It certainly will not look good for a homicide squad commander to stonewall us. It could mean the loss of your command.”

  “Is that so? Forty-eight hours,” I said. “Call me after that.”

  I turned my back to him and watched as the crime scene guys went to work in the bedroom. The Duty Captain winked at me, and I figured he was no fan of Internal Affairs either. The ADA, Seth Grimes, said, “Forget forty-eight hours. Nobody will talk to any officer present here until they have testified before a grand jury. I’ll advise you when that will happen.”

  . . .

  Crime scene bagged and tagged Rosario’s gun, and after the deputy ME gave the approval, his body was removed for the trip to the morgue. I asked the ME if he could do the post in the afternoon so Micena and Paul could get some shut eye. “No problem,” he said. “Will three o’clock be good?”

  “Fine,” Micena said. “We’ll see you then.”

  Crime Scene technicians went into action and their search uncovered 600 decks of heroin, all stamped in red with the HHC logo and $2,445 in cash, mostly in small bills. Then they found a key piece of evidence which could definitely put Rosario at the murder scene – a dark-blue flannel hoodie with bits of sawdust in one of the pockets.

  After the crime scene unit finished up I said to Evans and Monroe, “Any idea who’s the big supplier of this HHC brand of dope?”

  “Not yet,” Monroe said, “but the information is starting to come in now.”

  “When you bust him, see if he can tell us more about Rosario. I’m wondering if using junkies like DeGiglio to set up robberies happened more than once.”

  “Will do, Mike,” Charlie Evans said. “You be needin’ your two favorite slaves anymore?”

  I looked at my watch, 6:47 a.m., and I guessed the sun was already up outside this dingy basement pad. I said, “Go home. And thanks a lot for all the help.”

  Evans had to have the last word as he began to walk out backwards, bowing and scraping. He said, “Yassa, Massa, sees you around the plantation.”

  There were a few smiles, but we were all too tired to laugh. “It’s a wrap,” I said. “Sergeant Gadjewski, will you and your guys secure the door as best as you can and cover it in crime scene tape?”

  “You got it, Loot,” he said, fondly cradling his power hacksaw in his arms. “Happy to have been of service.”

  We walked outside blinking back the bright morning sun. Micena said, “When do you want us in the office, Boss?”

  “Not today. Wait, don’t go to Rosario’s autopsy. I’ll assign Sergeant Seich to attend. That would be better, anyway.”

  “How so?” Richie Paul asked.

  “We are going to retrieve the two bullets you put into his body. Better that they be handed to a supervisor than to you or John. Who knows which way IAB would twist it?”

  “Speaking of IAB,” Micena said. “You were tough on that Lieutenant Rubino. I hope it doesn’t hurt you.”

  “Ask me if I give a shit. Meet me in my office, all of you, at nine tomorrow morning. Get as much sleep as you can. We’ll plan our grand jury testimony and interview strategy with IAB then.”

  As the team started to drift away toward their cars I said, “Hold up a minute. You did a helluva job today. Thank you all. And I know Mordechai Stern’s family will thank you as well. That’s a phone call I look forward to making.”

  ELEVEN

  The seven of us sat around a table in a small conference room loaned to us by the boro commander. There was a notepad and pens, a water pitcher and tall glasses, and mugs of steaming coffee. I looked around and was happy to see everyone looking well rested and spruced up. I said, “I have some information to tell you before we get down to business. First, Rosario’s gun was the weapon used to murder Mort Stern. Ballistics said with 100% certainty the slug removed from Mort matched those test-fired from Rosario’s gun.”

  “Too bad Ballistics won’t get a chance to testify,” Detective Nitzky said with a slight grin on his face. “Ismael Rosario has already been convicted – by us.”

  There were a few small smiles and nods of heads and I said, “Second, Mort’s son, Robert, and his wife, Debbie, want me to convey their thanks and appreciation for the job this team did. They needed closure, and they got it. And, as they told me to pass on to you, ‘A big thank you to all of you fine police officers and detectives who worked so hard on this case.’”

  I began to applaud and they all joined in. They deserved it.

  “Now for my third, and last, thing. Seth Grimes scheduled us to appear before a special grand jury at ten o’clock Tuesday morning. I’m hopeful it will be completed by day’s end, and I bet IAB will be scheduling our interviews for the day after that.”

  “Lieutenant?” Cindy asked, “I’m sure the grand jury will find the shooting of Rosario was justified, so why do we have to be interviewed by IAB?”

  Before I could answer, Detective Catalano said, “Because no cop is ever innocent in their eyes, regardless of the facts.”

  “Tom is right about that,” I said, “but let’s get through the grand jury first. John, will you go through the procedure for the benefit of our two patrol officers here?”

  As we all knew, Detective Micena had been to more than a few of them and he said, “We will be asked to waive immunity, and we will comply. We will answer the ADA’s questions courteously, and completely, and truthfully.”

  “Uh, Detective Micena?” Officer Ferrand said. “I thought you automatically receive immunity when you testify at a grand jury proceeding and all you could be charged with was perjury if you failed to tell the truth.”

  “In normal cases where the DA is looking for an indictment, that is correct. Not here. We’re all good guys, including Seth Grimes, so that’s the way we will proceed in this case.”

  “John’s absolutely correct,” I said. “Any more questions on the grand jury?”

  “Should we wear our uniforms?” Cindy asked.

  “Yes, our investigation is over. Also, wear them for your IAB interviews. Richie, tell them what to expect from the headhunters.”

  “Their chief tactic is to divide and conquer. By that I mean they will tell you lies to obtain what they are looking for – a cop to hang out to dry.”

  “I don’t understand,” Artie said.

  “If we stick to our stories and tell the truth,” Richie said, “they will have to exonerate us. Our case is simple. Three of us were in that small bedroom where I shot Rosario. The boss excluded the other four of you for two main reasons. One, the room wasn’t big enough, and we’d be stumbling all over ourselves and probably shooting each other. Two, since you have no direct knowledge of what went on in the bedroom you can only testify to the fact you heard shots. But
that will not be good enough for those rats, right John?”

  Detective Micena motioned for Artie Ferrand to pull his chair out from the table and he also did, bringing it around to sit face to face with him. In a loud voice he said, “But those shots were not all you heard, was it, Officer?”

  “I don’t know what you mean, sir,” Ferrand said, playing along.

  “I mean you heard Detective Paul say, ‘I shot that murdering bastard just as we planned it, Loot.’ And then you heard Lieutenant Simon say, ‘Great job, Richie, no trial for this scum bag.’”

  “I heard no such thing, and Detective Paul did not say that, or anything like that.”

  I liked the way Ferrand was doing so far. Then Micena, much louder now, said, “Then why did Officer Jamison say she heard exactly those words. Why do we have that on tape? Why is she now writing out her statement explaining how your whole team, led by Lieutenant Simon, plotted and planned the execution of Ismael Rosario?”

  Pulling his chair closer, so his face was only a few inches from Ferrand’s, Micena screamed, “Tell me, Officer, why? Why is your partner spilling out the truth? Why are you lying? Why are you holding back? Tell me now or your career is over. Now!”

  Ferrand was in shock. “I…I…”

  “Enough, John,” I said.

  Micena pulled away and patted Artie on the shoulder. I said, “The way to answer that question is calmly and coolly. ‘Sir, I have no idea why Officer Jamison would say something like that, because that did not happen.’”

  “Never lose your cool,” John Micena said. “Never call them liars. Never say I don’t believe you.”

  “How long do you think they’ll grill us?” Cindy asked.

  “All day,” I said, “and more if they think they can get away with it.”

  “Let me sum up the situation,” Micena said. “Their prize target here is the boss. It doesn’t matter who pulled the trigger. They are going to try to make the case that he planned and orchestrated the murder of Ismael Rosario and we were all in on it.”

  “And from their perspective, they could easily come to that conclusion,” I said, “to give the devils their due. I refused to allow ESB to effect the take down, doing it myself with my two homicide detectives. Mort Stern was a personal long time friend, so I had motive, chiefly revenge. They are going to hammer me the hardest, then Richie and John. But they will also hammer you two young officers as hard, or harder, than me, because they will consider you the weakest links. Let’s do some more role-playing.”

  . . .

  We put the two rookies through the grinder and by the time I was satisfied they had absorbed it all it was 12:30. “Let’s adjourn for lunch,” I said. “My treat, then back here for a final wrap-up.”

  The lunch was subdued as we ate our burgers and Reuben’s, mulling over what lay ahead. We were back in the office by 1:30 and I said, “Tell me Officer Jamison, what will you immediately do after IAB notifies you of the time and place of your interview?”

  “Call the PBA office and have them assign a delegate to represent me at the interview.”

  “Correct. And then?”

  “Call you with that information.”

  “Correct again. Got that, Artie?”

  “Got it, sir.”

  “And without having to say it, our four detectives here will have a delegate from their union, the DEA, and I will have one from the LBA. The delegates have limited power, mostly observation and witnessing, but they can suggest the IAB interviewer give you your Miranda rights, if they feel they might be accusing you of a crime.”

  “My God,” Cindy said. “My rights? I’m no criminal –”

  “If they do that,” I said, interrupting her, “do not say another word. Call a PBA attorney and be guided by his advice.”

  “Hey,” Catalano said. “Don’t look so glum. This is life in the NYPD. Get used to it.”

  “We didn’t sign up for this crap,” Ferrand said.

  “None of us did,” I said. “You’ll get through this fine, and you’ll gain good experience for your next visit with the headhunters.”

  “Next time?”

  “You plan on quitting or doing zero police work for the rest of your career?” Catalano asked.

  “Uh, no.”

  Catalano smiled and said, “Then there will certainly be a next time. And a next time…”

  Jamison and Ferrand shook their heads and I said, “Let’s wrap this up. You two can get out of here. You detectives know what you have to do so hit the typewriters. The paperwork on this case must be done.”

  There were no groans from them. They knew their jobs well and got right to it. We all had a long Memorial Day weekend to look forward to. On Tuesday the intensity would begin. “Oh, one more thing. Cindy, Artie?”

  They stopped walking to the door and said, “Yes, Lieutenant?”

  “They can question you for one hour uninterrupted, and then you’re entitled to a ten- minute break. Your PBA rep will make sure they keep to that schedule and you’ll have a chance to talk things over. And when you’re done for the day, your interrogators will warn you – order you – not to speak with anyone concerning your statements. Feel free to disregard that order. It is illegal, and they know it. Even Internal Affairs is not above the First Amendment to the US Constitution. We will meet back here at the end of the day, and we will discuss everything.”

  “Thanks, Lieutenant,” Ferrand said.

  “Yes sir, thank you,” Jamison said. “See you all Tuesday morning.”

  . . .

  The first witness, me, went into the grand jury box at 9:20 a.m. By 3:30 it was all over. Twelve witnesses, my team of six, the three from ESB, and Evans and Monroe from Narcotics, all testified. At 3:40, Seth Grimes came out of the jury room and smiled. “No true bill,” he said. “They were pleased with your actions and asked me to congratulate you for your excellent police work in solving this case.”

  Not that we didn’t expect that result, but it was a relief to all of us we were not charged with a crime. Then Seth put a damper on our mood when he said, “I have to call the CO of IAB in Queens. He wanted to know the minute the grand jury gave their decision. Sorry.”

  “We understand, Seth,” I said. “We’re prepared for them – and thanks for being on our side.”

  “My pleasure. Keep up the good work.”

  By the time we got back to the squad my deputy, Sergeant Harry Megara, had already been notified of our appearances. “You all have to be over there tomorrow morning at nine sharp,” he said. “Sorry to be the bearer of this shitty news.”

  Harry, who had been running the everyday business of the squad while I was concentrating on the Stern murder, was my right arm. I said, “It was expected, Harry. Thanks for keeping things together the last few days. One more day and I’ll be back.”

  “Yeah, Boss,” he said, “unless IAB keeps you under house arrest for an extended period.”

  “One day, Harry. For all of us. Period.”

  I noticed a few looks of surprise from my team, but Micena and Paul merely smiled. They knew I had a rabbi, a friend in a high place. They just didn’t know who he was.

  PART THREE

  THE PRIEST

  (1966 – 2000)

  TWELVE

  After ordination I was first assigned to a large parish in Brooklyn, Holy Family, on Flatlands Ave. I was twenty-seven years old and the youngest of the three priests assigned there. I was broken into my pastoral duties by Father Tom Reynolds who was thirty-four years old, and by the parish’s Pastor, Father Edward McGrail, a stern leader, who was not easy to confide in. After a few weeks I too
k Tom aside after dinner and said, “Uh, Tom, did any of our female members of the congregation ever uh, you know, make advances to you?”

  “You mean like, ‘Hey, handsome priest, wanna get laid?”

  I felt myself blushing and he smiled and said, “It happens all the time, and I guess it’s happened to you or you wouldn’t have asked me that question.”

  “It has, Tom. More than once. I don’t understand it.”

  “What’s not to understand?”

  “I am a Priest, sworn to celibacy, for God’s sake.”

  “Oh, they know that, and they view it as a challenge. Like a young guy wanting to be the first to bang a virgin. And the priestly uniform doesn’t hurt either, even though it’s plain black most of the time.”

  “Yeah, when I was in the Marines the uniform certainly attracted the ladies,” I said.

  “I’m glad you’re here, Francis. So young and handsome. You’ll be the star with the sweet, young drooling beauties in the parish, and a lot of the heat will be taken off of me.”

  “This is bizarre, Tom.”

  “It is. Celibacy is unnatural, and Holy Mother Church knows it. We have a long history of married priests from its inception to about 1100. That’s when the reigning Pope decided we must be celibate. It had more to do with property rights being passed down to priest’s heirs than to the church.”

  “They kind of glossed over that in the seminary,” I said.

  “I bet they did. They are loosening up with the recent rulings coming out of the Vatican councils, but they have a long way to go. Speaking of the seminary, did you ever notice any strange goings on among your fellow classmates?”