Murder and Mayhem in Manayunk

by Neal Goldstein

  Ossberg took a seat on the opposite side of the conference table from Valdez.

  “Rico, Special Agent Ossberg has been assigned as liaison to the Philadelphia Regional Office of Homeland Security. Monroe, Rico has been in charge of the detail tailing Abdullah Mohamed. Rico, would you summarize the results of your team’s surveillance of Mr. Mohamed for Special Agent Ossberg?” Keel asked.

  “Certainly, our surveillance commenced on Monday morning at 0700 hours when the subject left his apartment to attend morning prayers at the mosque. We inserted visual and auditory equipment at his apartment and assigned three teams of agents to follow him.”

  “Throughout the first four days the subject adhered to a consistent pattern of behavior. He would leave his apartment and attend morning prayers, return to his apartment and read the Koran and clean his place. He would return to the mosque for afternoon prayers. In the afternoons he would either take solitary walks in Fairmount Park until evening prayers or return to his apartment.”

  “There were absolutely no contacts with any individuals outside the mosque. No drops, nothing suspicious. He appeared for all intents as a devout Muslim whose entire life revolved around his faith. However, this evening after evening prayers the subject broke his normal pattern.”

  Ossberg waited as Valdez consulted his notes.

  “Ninety minutes ago as Team One followed the subject, instead of proceeding directly to his apartment on Upsal Street he drove in the opposite direction on the Kelly Drive towards Center City. I was immediately alerted and as the closest agent on duty I joined the pursuit near the Art Museum Circle.”

  “The subject took a series of classic maneuvers to detect surveillance. When he was satisfied that no one was tailing him, he proceeded north on 16th Street. He parked his vehicle near Spring Garden Street. We followed him on foot. Once again the subject took appropriate measures to detect surveillance. At approximately 2115 hours I observed the subject enter the Homeland Security Regional Office through the service entrance in the alley behind the building. Team One saw him leave the building at 2135 and tailed him back to his apartment.”

  Valdez showed Ossberg a series of photos he and his team had taken during the assignment, including stills of the video surveillance from his apartment.

  “Monroe, have you ever seen this man at Homeland Regional Office?” Keel asked.

  Ossberg shook his head.

  “Do you have any explanation for Abdullah Mohamed’s visit to the Regional Office this evening?”

  Ossberg shook his head again.

  “Rico, would you please show Special Agent Ossberg the other photos?”

  Valdez removed six photographs from his folder and spread them across the conference table in front of Ossberg.

  The room was silent except for the sound of Ossberg’s sharp exhale of breath.

  The pictures had been taken with a telephoto lens from the roof of the apartment building across 16th Street from the Homeland building with an unobstructed view of the Regional Director’s twelfth floor office. The photos showed Regional Director Simon Conway in apparent conversation with Abdullah Mohamed.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  “Who’s there?” Saunders asked.

  “It’s me,” Chief Justice Robert Fogerty said as he walked through the door from the outer office.

  “Mickey, you look upset,” Fogerty said as he took a seat in front of Saunders’ desk. “What’s wrong?”

  Saunders hesitated, trying to decide how to proceed. He said, “Bob, Vito Coratelli…”

  “I know,” Fogerty said cutting him off. “That’s why I came to see you. He came to see me a couple days ago with some crazy story about you being involved in his son’s murder and the District Attorney getting ready to indict you and Mayor Gallo. He gave me the whole spiel.”

  “And you don’t believe him?”

  “Of course not; I mean for Christ’s sake, you knew Junior since he was a child. There’s no way you would have anything to do with any of that.” Fogerty sighed and said, “I can only imagine how hard this has been on Vito. I think he’s losing it.”

  Fogerty was following the script Coratelli had suggested to a tee. “Make Saunders believe that he’s in the clear. His ego will kick in and he’ll go to Gallo and Nooris and boast that he has you completely fooled,” Coratelli told him.

  “But what about the District Attorney?” Saunders asked.

  “Bob, that’s just something he made up. Believe me, if the DA was in the process of getting indictments, I would have heard about it,” Fogerty said.

  Fogerty read the relief in Saunders’ face.

  “Mickey, even though I don’t believe Vito, it’s not a good thing for you to have him going around and spreading these rumors about you. I think you need to reason with him. Convince him that he’s wrong.”

  “Bob, that’s great advice, thank you. And thank you for your friendship,” Saunders added.

  After Fogerty left, Saunders realized that there was no way to reason with Coratelli. There was only one solution. He placed the call, “Have you heard what Coratelli is putting out on the street?”

  “Yes.”

  “It must be stopped.”

  “Agreed.”

  As soon as he walked out of Saunders’ building Fogerty placed the call.

  “It went just as you said it would. He bought it hook, line and sinker.”

  “Very good.”

  “Be careful.” “Of course.”

  Vito Coratelli hung up the phone. Saunders was such a fool. Vito assumed that Saunders had already set it in motion. They would move against him soon, very soon.

  But it would not go down as they believed. He would be ready for them.

  Ichowitz did not like Vito’s plan. He thought it was reckless, and he was concerned for Coratelli’s safety.

  “Jack, Vito told me Saunders fell for Fogerty’s set-up. But this trap Vito has set with himself as the bait, I don’t believe it’s going to work.”

  “Don’t you think Saunders is going to report his conversations with Vito and the Chief Justice to his people?” Regan asked.

  “Oh no, I fully expect him to react exactly as Coratelli suggested. I’m concerned that Vito has seriously underestimated the capabilities of the Killer or killers. I’ve known Vito a long time. I’m not buying his assurance that he’ll allow us to protect him. He’s a ‘Sidggy.’ The Sicilians always want to personally avenge their loved one’s murder.”

  “We cannot allow that to happen,” Regan said.

  “I hear you. The problem is, does Vito? Jack, is there something else bothering you?” Ichowitz asked.

  Regan paused, carefully considering his response. “I really didn’t want to bring this up. I mean, with the Larson and Vito Junior murders still open, you already have enough on your plate. You don’t need to deal with my personal problems.”

  “Jack, we’re mishpocheh,” Ichowitz replied. “Tell me what’s going on?”

  Regan filled him in on the sudden appearance of Michael Flynn, Liam’s father.

  “Izz, Katey’s very worried about him. I asked Mike O’Malley about it. He told me if he so much as sees Flynn near the Grape, he’ll blow Flynn’s brains out.”

  “So Kate grabs Liam and runs away when the guy goes to prison, and now he shows up out of the blue in Manayunk and says he just wants to check on his boy?” Ichowitz asks.

  “Yeah, it doesn’t make a whole lot of sense.”

  “Let’s check him out with Interpol and try to find out why this bird really blew into town.”

  Following the meeting with Ossberg, Howard Keel contacted the Bureau’s Assistant Director William Ross to report the events that resulted in the discovery that Abdullah Mohamed, the subject of his office’s surveillance, was an undercover agent working exclusively for the Homeland Security Mid-Atlantic Regional Director. The purpose of his call was twofold. First to obtain guidance on how the Bureau wanted to deal with Homeland, second, and perhaps more important, Keel wanted to
make sure his ass was completely covered, both in connection with the expenditure of considerable dollars for what turned out to be a complete exercise in futility in following the agent, and just in case other unanticipated events hit the fan.

  “And you believe this Conway guy was operating completely on his own without disclosing anything to our man Ossberg?” Ross asked.

  “Yes sir. Special Agent Ossberg has given me a complete rundown on the Regional Director’s almost daily acts of stupidity. According to Ossberg, Simon Conway is a greater risk to our nation’s security than Osama Bin Laden.”

  “I’ve seen some of Ossberg’s reports. He’s a good man and this assignment could be a career-killer.”

  “Sir, we need to take some action, and quickly. The Internet is abuzz that something big is going to happen here on the Fourth. Ben-Ali and his mosque are ground zero in this region. We lost a great deal of time chasing our tail on this Abdullah Mohamed fiasco. The Bureau cannot afford any more missteps.”

  “Howard, I’ll discuss this with the director and get back to you.”

  TWENTY-SIX

  The Director of the FBI and the Secretary of Homeland Security agreed that Homeland Mid-Atlantic Regional Director Simon Conway was an unmitigated disaster and had to be removed. The problem was Conway’s considerable political connections, primarily the fact that he had married the daughter of the chairman of the House Appropriations Committee, made Conway’s removal a matter of significant sensitivity. The Director and the Secretary delegated the responsibility to plan and execute Conway’s “exit strategy” to the Philadelphia Bureau office. That way, if there was any political fallout over the incident, neither the Bureau nor Homeland would suffer the consequences. Only the poor bastards at the Regional level would be blamed.

  So much for covering my ass, Keel thought upon learning that he had been tasked with the responsibility of relieving the Homeland Security Regional Director of his position.

  “Howard, you have the complete backing and support of the Director,” Assistant Director Ross told him. “There’s no need for you to file a written report.”

  “Sir, can I anticipate written confirmation of my authority?” Keel asked.

  “Howard, off the record, you got the shitty end of the stick on this. Both the director and I realize that. We’ll help you anyway we can, but you and your people need to pull this off and make it look like Conway resigned of his own accord.”

  Two hours later, Keel, Monroe Ossberg, the Bureau’s liaison to the Homeland Regional Office, and Rico Valdez were meeting at Ralph’s Italian Restaurant on 9th Street near the Italian Market to evaluate their options. According to the menu, Ralph’s had been in continuous operation since 1900. A long line of notables and celebrities, among them Theodore Roosevelt, Frank Sinatra, Tony Bennett and Jimmy Durante had frequented the establishment throughout the past century.

  Ralph’s was also a favorite meeting place for the Philadelphia chapter of La Cosa Nostra. Angelo Bruno, the former head of the “Family,” had declared the restaurant neutral turf at which rival factions could dine without fear of attack. Unfortunately, the sidewalk outside Ralph’s was not protected, and Bruno’s consigliore suffered a fatal case of indigestion when he was shot in the head upon leaving Ralph’s one fateful evening. His obituary did mention how much he enjoyed the veal piccante, one of Ralph’s classic dishes, as his final meal.

  Keel had secured the private dining room on the third floor for this off-the-record meeting with Ossberg and Valdez. “Gentlemen, we have been delegated a sensitive mission by the director,” Keel began the business portion of the meeting as the three men enjoyed their espresso and cannoli. In truth, only Keel had been delegated this responsibility; however, he had decided that it was unacceptable that he was the only individual designated and therefore he was not going to suffer the consequences on his own.

  “The director agrees with our conclusion that Simon Conway must be removed before he does any further damage. Unfortunately, Conway’s political connections eliminate his direct termination by the Secretary of Homeland Security as a viable option. We need to figure out a way to convince Conway that his resignation is the most attractive way for him to move on, any suggestions?”

  “Howard, in the six months since his appointment, Conway has been a royal pain in my ass. He fancies himself as a super spy, you know like James Bond or that character on TV who is saving the country from nuclear attack in twenty-four hours. He’s always running around town with armed escorts. Conway disappears for days at a time, claiming he’s doing special assignments for the Secretary. It’s all bullshit,” Ossberg ranted.

  “What about his personal life? Is there anything there?” Keel asked.

  “Well, there was an incident with one of the female agents, a potential sexual harassment matter. She was transferred to DC and the issue was resolved quietly.”

  “Has he moved his family from Washington, DC?” Keel asked.

  “No, he’s staying at the Ritz on the region’s dime. He told me he doesn’t expect to be a Regional Director for too much longer. According to him, something big is in the works, again all bullshit.”

  “Special Agent Ossberg, so Director Conway considers himself a lady’s man,” Valdez asked.

  “Oh yes.”

  “Boss, since we already have three teams of agents available with nothing much to do, why don’t we tail Conway for a few days? Who knows, maybe we’ll come up with something.”

  Keel nodded. “Monroe, in the meantime please advise Mr. Conway that you have direct orders from the director to assume operational authority over Agent Salvatore DePalma, aka Abdullah Mohamed. If he balks give him my number and I’ll ream him a new one.”

  “Rico, have your guy from Baltimore put his equipment in Conway’s suite at the Ritz and in his Mercedes too. Let’s stay on him 24/7.”

  “Boss, do we have a warrant?” Valdez asked.

  “Rico, we only need a warrant if we intend to use our surveillance as evidence in court. I have no intention of going through the judicial process. I have a feeling Regional Director Conway left his wife in DC for reasons other than his hoped-for early promotion.”

  “You think he can’t keep little Simon in his pants?” Valdez asked.

  “Have you seen any photographs of Mrs. Conway?”

  Valdez shook his head.

  “Check them out, and maybe you’ll get a better idea of what makes him tick.”

  “Imam, one of your men has apparently decided to abandon the mission,” Alawaite told Ben-Ali as they walked along the Kelly Drive.

  “No, that is not possible. These soldiers have been carefully prepared for their journeys.”

  “Nevertheless, Aaban did not show up today. Bashir advises me that his apartment is empty, and no one has any information concerning his whereabouts.”

  “Can he compromise the mission?” Ben-Ali asked.

  Alawaite considered his response and said, “No, he doesn’t have enough of the details. But I would appreciate your security finding him and addressing the matter.”

  “Do you need a replacement?”

  “I assumed that the five men were all of the sleepers,” Alawaite replied.

  “Yes that is true; however, there is a young man who has been with us for several months now. He is passionate in his beliefs and lives his life in strict accord with our Muslim traditions. Would you like to meet him and decide for yourself?”

  “What is his name?”

  “Abdullah Mohamed.”

  Ossberg’s meeting with Simon Conway was one of the high points of the FBI agent’s liaison assignment to Homeland since the Regional Director blew into town. Ossberg walked into Conway’s office unannounced, closed the door and sat down in the leather chair in front of Conway’s desk without saying a word. Conway scowled at him and said, “What do you think you’re doing, barging in here without an appointment? I thought I made it clear to you that you would no longer have unlimited access.”

  “You
did.”

  “Then have you lost your mind?”

  “No.”

  “Then I suggest you get out of that chair and get the fuck out of my office,” Conway said.

  “No, I don’t think I’ll leave just yet.”

  “I’ll have security remove you,” Conway said and reached for the phone.

  “I don’t think that would be a good move on your part,” Ossberg remarked.

  Conway stared at him. There was something in Ossberg’s manner, the calmness with which he responded to his rants that made Conway pause.

  Ossberg waited for Conway to put down the phone and said, “The Bureau has found out about your agent at the New Age Mosque. Your unauthorized insertion of an agent there, along with your failure to share the information with the Bureau constitutes a felony. It may well have compromised national security. The Director and the Secretary of Homeland have authorized me to oversee operations of the Regional Office while they evaluate the situation.”

  “Oh they have, have they? We’ll see what the Congressman has to say about that!”

  “Well, you can call your father-in-law, but that will only bring attention to the situation.”

  Conway paused again, evaluating the consequences of such a course of action.

  “Here’s what I suggest,” Ossberg continued. “After we speak with your man, why don’t you take some time off? Go down to DC, see your wife. Perhaps after the Director and the Secretary have a chance to cool down, they’ll reconsider bringing charges against you. Who knows, maybe I’ll be able to turn this thing around and make you out to be a hero,” Ossberg smiled.

  Conway needed to buy some time. If what Ossberg told him was true, he had fucked up. He had already needed his father-in-law’s help to avoid the sexual harassment charge. He realized that going to the Congressman again so soon would be a problem.

  “Look, maybe I was wrong, being overly protective of my agent. But, I was concerned that sharing the information prematurely would put him in danger. I’m sure that if you present this to your director he’ll agree.”