The Romen Society

by Henry Hack

  “Terrific. Say hello to Vinny for me.”

  “What did he say?” asked Pop when Harry hung up the phone.

  “He said you’re hired. The timing of your request was pure serendipity. They desperately need an undercover operative right away.”

  “Undercover? Where?”

  “The old folks home. Seems there’s been a rash of thefts of Depends and…”

  “The old folks home? Why you…”

  “Yeah, Denzel. I gotcha again!”

  2

  At two o’clock Carson stuck his head in the door of Harry’s office and was startled to see his boss and the retired detective laughing crazily, gasping for air and wiping tears from their cheeks. “Sorry to interrupt,” he said, “but everyone is assembled in the conference room.”

  “We’ll be there as soon as we catch our breath,” Harry said. “We’re just re-hashing some old moments we had together.”

  “Must have been a hoot,” Carson said.

  “Not all the time,” Pop said, “but the few times we were able to laugh were real funny, like the time your boss here…”

  “We don’t have time to bore Charlie now, Pop. Let’s get to that meeting.”

  “Good afternoon, gentlemen,” Harry said, as he entered the conference room. “I’ve brought an old friend to say hello.”

  They had all gotten to their feet as Harry had come through the door and Walt Kobak and John McKee walked over to Pop and shook hands and embraced him. “You look great,” Walt said. “How’s retired life treating you?”

  “It sucks. That’s why I came to see Harry.”

  “You coming back on the Job?” John asked.

  “Can’t – too old. Harry got me an interview over at Sheldrake Associates tomorrow.”

  Inspector Petersen walked over and said, “Pop, I’m Carl Petersen. Let me shake your hand. You are a legend in the Task Force. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “Thanks, Inspector,” Pop said as his eyes took in the view from the large windows in the in the newly re-furbished conference room. Even in the day’s mist and gloom the Brooklyn and Manhattan Bridges seemed close enough to touch as their majestic arches rose over the gray East River and disappeared onto the mean streets of Brooklyn.

  “Nice digs Harry has here at One Police Plaza,” Walt Kobak said. “Not like our old place across the street.”

  “You’re right about that,” Pop said. “But that stinky old conference room over there sure holds a lot of memories.”

  “Pop,” Petersen said, “have you ever been told you bear a strong resemblance to…”

  “Don’t go there,” Harry interrupted. “Pop hates it when he gets compared to Denzel Washington.”

  “Denzel? I thought more…”

  “Carl?”

  “Sorry, sir,” Petersen said, finally getting the message.

  “I invited Pop to join us for this meeting because his knowledge and insight are always valuable to me. Any objections to a civilian being a part of this?”

  If there were any they were wisely kept unspoken.

  ADIC Walt Kobak said, “Let us first re-cap the list of the terror groups who have been quiet and who we believe pose no immediate threat to the country. Carl, if you would?”

  Inspector Carl Petersen, a boyish looking, forty-five year old veteran of twenty-three years on the Force, rose and said, “We monitor one hundred and six different groups who have proven terrorist leanings and who have committed at least one violent act against persons or property in the past five years.”

  “A hundred and six?” Chief O’Halloran said. “I didn’t realize there were that many crazies out there.”

  “And over two hundred more we now classify as inactive or defunct, including al-Qaida and OBL-911. But of those we do have, just a handful is of immediate concern.”

  “The white supremacists?”

  “Surprisingly, no,” Petersen said. “The Posse Comitatus, the Confederation of Aryan Organizations, the Brothers in Purity, the KKK, the Covenant of the Sword of the Lord, and the New Order were dealt a huge blow when we hit them a few of years ago – a blow from which they have not yet recovered. And the Black Supremacists, Black Liberation Army, May 19 Coalition, Republic of New Africa and Weather Underground have not made waves for the last few years.”

  “Sounds good so far,” Harry said.

  “The Puerto Rican and Cuban groups such as the FALN, Omega Seven, Venceremos Brigade, and Armed Resistance Unit seem to have accepted the current political conditions or have faded into the background,” Petersen continued.

  “You seem to have covered all the bases, Carl. Who’s left?” First Deputy Commissioner Dan Snyder asked.

  “Those that are left,” Petersen said “are the reason for this meeting. They are the eco-terrorists – the save-the-worlders, the environmental wackos, as one talk-radio host calls them.”

  “You mean groups such as Greenpeace and PETA?” Harry asked.

  “Yes, sir. And ALF and ELF.”

  “But those groups are mostly non-violent, aren’t they?”

  “For the most part, yes, but things are changing – for the worse.”

  Petersen passed out to each person a pamphlet of some twenty pages. As he handed it to Pop Hunter, he whispered, “I’ll need that back after the meeting.”

  Just a reminder, Pop realized – he was no longer one of them.

  “Gentlemen, the information in the briefing I just distributed is top-secret, and for your eyes only at this time. I will not go into the details it contains, but will summarize the situation in the interests of time. There are four major groups that address their concerns to protecting the environment and animals. The first, Greenpeace, claims they exist because ‘the fragile earth deserves a voice.’ They campaign to stop global warming, to save the oceans and to protect ancient forests. They oppose whaling, genetic engineering, nuclear proliferation and toxic chemicals, and conduct themselves in a nonviolent manner.”

  “Sounds reasonable to me,” O’Halloran said.

  “No argument,” Petersen said. “One of their banners which reads, ‘When the last tree is cut, the last river poisoned, and the last fish is dead, we will discover we can’t eat money…’ kind of sums up their feelings, and does strike a sympathetic chord with many people.”

  “Have they changed recently?” Harry asked.

  “Not exactly, Commissioner, but things will become clearer in a few minutes. The second organization, People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals, PETA, believes animals, as do humans, have rights. They operate under the principle animals are not ours to eat, wear, experiment on or use for entertainment.”

  “Is this the group that throws blood on people wearing fur coats?” Dan Snyder asked.

  “Yes, and that is probably the most aggressive they have gotten. They also espouse non-violence to further their cause.”

  “I think they’re off-the-wall in claiming animals have rights.”

  “If some liberal judge says they do,” Pop said, “the goddamn lawyers’ll have a whole new area of litigation to make money on.”

  “You’ll probably get sued for eating a burger and paying for it with money out of a leather wallet,” John McKee said.

  “The third group is ALF, the Animal Liberation Front,” Petersen said. “Although they also claim to be non-violent, they support property destruction by attempting to eliminate the tools used to torture, mutilate and murder animals. Their guidelines include liberating animals from any place in which they are confined and inflicting economic damage to those who profit from the exploitation of animals. They do stress, however, that in all of their twenty plus years of operation, with hundreds of actions under their belt, no person has ever been injured or killed.”

  “Is that changing now?” Harry asked.

  “Perhaps, Commissioner. The fourth, and last, group under discussion is ELF, the Earth Liberation Front. Their issues are global warming, excessive oil and gasoline consumption, pollution caused by oil
runoff, over-fishing and deforestation. ELF is currently the most violent of the groups, often using arson to target their enemies. They will also target individuals as well as large businesses.”

  “How so?”

  “If you wake up some night and your SUV is burning brightly in your driveway, look for the letters ELF spray painted in red on the front of your house. However, they still maintain their intent is to never harm people, and they have not yet done so. Their biggest action was in San Diego several years ago where they burned down a two hundred-unit condo complex that was under construction. They hung up a huge banner stating, If You Build It, We Will Burn It. It was signed, The Elves Are Mad.”

  “At least no one has been killed by these people,” Charlie Carson said.

  “Not until last night.”

  “Uh-oh,” Pop said. “Here comes the bad news.”

  “One ELF spokesman has previously stated, While innocent life will never be harmed in any action we undertake, where it is necessary we will no longer hesitate to pick up the gun to implement justice and provide the needed protection for our planet that decades of legal battles, pleading, protest and economic sabotage have failed so drastically to achieve. We now believe several of the most violence prone members of ELF who adhere to this new philosophy have split off to form their own organization. We also believe they have recruited the most extreme members of the other groups to join them and this new organization will use murder, arson, bombings and other terrorist tactics in order to reach their goals.”

  “Does this new group have a name?” O’Halloran asked.

  “Yes – a name or an acronym – The Romens, with an e,” Petersen said. “We do not yet know what it means, but a cardboard placard with those words written on it was found around the neck of U.S. Senator Edward Millard this morning at eight, Pacific Time. Millard was shot twice in the head by a .357 caliber weapon in the kitchen of his Eugene, Oregon home. As some of you may know he is…was…the leading proponent in congress of expanding oil drilling in Alaska and the Gulf of Mexico.”

  “Curious spelling,” Dan Snyder said. “I’m thinking it should be the Romans, but I’m sure they’re not that stupid.”

  “Let’s hope they are stupid, Dan,” Harry said. “Smart terrorists we don’t need.”

  “I didn’t hear about this on the news,” Pop said.

  “It’s the three hour time difference,” Petersen said, “and a lid was kept on it for awhile until the scene was thoroughly processed.”

  “Are you going to try to keep the message on that placard out of the hands of the media?” Harry asked.

  “As long as we can,” Walt Kobak said, “but the Romens will be looking to take credit and publicize their demands. It’s an all too familiar pattern.”

  “Shades of OBL-911,” Pop said.

  “Any idea of the size of this group or the identity of the leaders?” O’Halloran asked.

  “No,” Petersen said.

  “Is that it?” Harry asked.

  “Yes, sir, except for your assistance in the manpower department.”

  “You want to beef up your team?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Why? We have what appears to be an isolated incident 3,000 miles away. What’s the threat here in New York?”

  “We don’t know,” Walt said, “but I’d think you’d want to be prepared. Although I suppose your perspective changes when you’re up here in the ivory tower.”

  Although Walt smiled when he said these words, the mild rebuke struck home.

  “What are you looking for?”

  Petersen responded to the commissioner’s question. “I’m only working with John and Agent Joe Ramos. I’d like to get Nick Faliani back. I’ll add another agent to form two teams for a start. I won’t ask for more unless things heat up around here”

  “I’ll give you Nick, but I want John McKee back.”

  “John?” Walt asked. “But Harry, he’s been here since almost day one. He and I were original partners, you know that.”

  “I know, but you are now the man in charge and Lieutenant McKee will shortly be Captain McKee. You have an inspector of mine there. I cannot justify a captain also.”

  “I’m going to be a captain?” John asked.

  “Next promotion order,” Harry said, “and you’ve been there too long. It’s time for a change. And speaking of changes, Charlie Carson here will soon be Deputy Chief Carson. You’re his replacement, John.”

  “You mean I’m going to be your chief aide?”

  “Yeah, for as long as it takes me to wash the FBI clutter out of your mind and teach you to be a real New York cop once more.”

  “You’re the boss here, of course,” Walt said, “but I still think John has more value on the Task Force than in your office.”

  The awkward silence of the moment was broken when Pop voiced his congratulations to John and Charlie on their upcoming promotions.

  “I have a good detective to send over there in lieu of John,” Harry said. “Danny Boyland from Nassau Homicide, a top-notch investigator.”

  After Pop and Harry returned to Harry’s office Pop said, “God, I miss the Job so much. When you and Walt were putting the teams back together I wanted to shout, ‘Hey, what about me? You forgot me!’”

  “If it’s any consolation, I had the same thoughts myself. Bet we could still kick ass out there,” Harry said.

  “You damn well know it, partner. We could kick major ass out there – if only they would goddamn let us.”

  Harry arrived home at his apartment a few minutes after seven that evening and by the looks of it – the bathroom door was closed – Susan had not beaten him home by more than a couple of minutes. “Is that you?” she called out.

  “Were you expecting someone else?” he said. “Perhaps Brad Pitt?”

  “No,” she replied. “Antonio Banderas.”

  “He’s not available, my dear. You’re stuck with your same old husband.”

  “You’ll look more like Antonio if you have a cold cocktail waiting for me when I come out. I had a bear of a day.”

  “Wait until you hear about my day if you think yours was bad. Ice cold drinks are coming right up.”

  They relaxed on the sofa and sipped their martinis. “I’ve been in court all day,” she said.

  “That’s unusual for a full partner isn’t it?”

  “Yes, but this is an unusual case and a big case, maybe the biggest product liability case we’ve ever been retained to coordinate and defend.”

  “I’m listening,” Harry said, putting his drink down on the table. “What drug is killing people now?”

  “No drug this time. But I guess it’s like a drug – fluoride.”

  “The stuff in toothpaste?”

  “Yes, in toothpaste and in many municipal water supplies and in dental treatments and a lot of other places.”

  “Hasn’t the stuff been around a long time?”

  “Yes, but now a scientific study that followed a large group of people for over twenty years is alleging that fluoride directly causes impotence in men.”

  “You mean brushing your teeth keeps you from getting a hard-on?”

  “Don’t be crude, Harry. No, that’s not what I mean. The conclusion of the study is that fluoride use in a statistically relevant sample of adult males reduces their sperm count to a level that prevents normal procreation.”

  “Who are your clients?”

  “Named in the class-action suit so far are ninety-two municipal water systems, over two thousand dentists, the Dental Association, fifteen toothpaste manufacturers, and twelve huge, well-known chemical manufacturers.”

  “Wow. You are going to be one busy legal lady.”

  “That’s not all,” she said. “I’m supposed to be coordinating the defense of the big three tobacco companies against a new slew of lawsuits.”

  “Wait a minute; I thought that was all over. Weren’t all those suits settled years ago?”

  “We thought so, but new scie
nce has allegedly surfaced and new inside information has been uncovered, particularly in regard to the advertising claims of so-called light cigarettes. And that gives grounds for new actions against big tobacco.”

  “Goddamn lawyers just keep digging for more bucks is the way I see it.”

  “They may have something this time,” she said.

  “And which big case will you take on? Certainly you can’t do both.”

  “No, I can’t. We’ll see how it goes. I’m more familiar with the tobacco industry though, so I’m leaning that way.”

  “I don’t know. The impotence caper sounds like more fun to me,” he said.

  “I figured you’d say that. Now, tell me how did your bad day stack up against mine?”

  “The only good part is Pop Hunter came in to see me. He’s bored with retirement and wanted to come back on the Job.”

  “Can you do that for him?”

  “No, besides having Vera kill me, he’s over the age limit. But I got him a job at Sheldrake. Hey, do I look old to you?”

  “Were you and Pop needling each other like in the old days?”

  “You got it. Damn old geezer says I’m worn and getting gray.”

  Susan smiled and put her arms around him. She said,” You will always be my Sean Connery, albeit now a mature Sean Connery.”

  “I guess I’ll settle for that,” he said. “And of course you will always be my mature Catherine Zeta Jones. Now let me refresh our drinks and I will tell you all about the Romens.”

  3

  Lawrence Chalmers beamed as the six new Grand Rangers rolled off the transport carrier onto the lot of his dealership. Five of them already had deposits on them based on the promotional advertising. The sixth, a glossy candy-apple red color would be kept as a demo and driven home this weekend by Lawrence himself to show off to his family and friends.

  He walked around the 6,000 pound machine looking for blemishes on its shiny surface and then stopped to read the window sticker detailing the vehicles specifications “Horsepower – 452; Capacity – 8 adults; Super 4-wheel drive; V-8 engine w/5-speed automatic transmission.” Those were the basics. Then came the trim package – and this baby had all the modern bells and whistles indeed. Finally the list price: “$67,889” and the EPA mileage estimates: “9.0 city/ 13.2 highway” and, in small letters, “use only premium grade unleaded gasoline.”