“To the top. She called the commissioner’s office and left a message with some lieutenant. She’s hot. She wants me to have the paper do an op-ed.”
“Ya gonna?”
“Might! Wanted to talk to you first. I called one of my spies in Detective Headquarters. She read me an entry from the Fish Bowl S and R overnight sheet.” Michelle read from her notes.
7:25 AM
Accident involving off-duty inspector.
Under Market-Frankford El
Auto v. Pillar
CIB Captain Devlin on the scene.
“All true. So what’s your question for me?”
“First, the entry seems a little skimpy for a report that goes to the PC, doesn’t it? Second, was the unknown inspector the one who hit the councilwoman’s city car? Third, can you shed any more light on the accident other than what’s on the overnight S and R?”
“I can tell you the commissioner is not happy.”
“That’s not news, Mick.”
“Be nice now.”
“Sorry, Father. I cannot tell a lie.”
“‘Cept for that one, right?”
“I had my fingers crossed. It doesn’t count.”
“Okay, Shelle. Like the S and R stated, I responded to an auto versus pillar under the Market-Frankford El.”
“Can you give up the location of that ‘auto versus pillar’ accident?”
“You’re slipping, Shelle. I don’t think it’s a big secret. Under the York-Dauphin El Station. The street was closed and buses were rerouted.”
“The councilwoman’s car was parked a few blocks south.”
“Figured as much. There were four reports of parked cars being damaged all within a few blocks and around the same time as the inspector’s accident.”
“Has anyone in the PD connected all five accidents to the same driver? That is ‘cept you, of course.”
Mickey laughs, “Not yet, Shelle. Not officially anyway.”
“So how close are you to enlightening the rest of your department?”
“At the rumored news conference that the commissioner is chewing over making me do.”
“No shit? Sorry, Mick. You still refuse to curse?”
“What can I say? I’m a good Catholic boy.”
Michelle laughs. “So was my dad. And he curses all the time.”
“Yes, but he has an excuse—you!”
“Can’t argue with that. I certainly tested my Pop’s good nature.”
“Don’t we all? That’s what kids do.”
“Now what’s this about a news conference?”
“Got a heads-up call that the commish is fuming over how the inspector’s accident was handled. And of course in turn is ticked at me.”
“Sounds like you did the righteous thing again, Mick.”
“You know this commissioner’s philosophy, Shelle. Let no good deed go unpunished.”
“Speakin’ of good deeds how ‘bout giving me something I can run on. Is somebody putting a cover-up in motion like Lazoryszak is suggesting?”
“Between me and you, it’s too late for that. And that’s why the PC is coming after me, again.”
“What’s he gonna do—transfer you to CIB? He already did that.”
“My feeling exactly. Anyway I approved arresting Inspector Fritz Kuhn for DUI.”
“Not him again. He should have been locked up when he killed that kid on Woodhaven. Everybody knew he was drunk that night.”
“It’s who ya know, Shelle. That’s life in the PPD. Here’s the rest of my good deed to you, Shelle. Kuhn was unable to perform a field sobriety test and too out of it to blow in the box. Then when they tried to take blood he—”
Michelle interjects, “Refused.”
“Bingo.”
“So do you think Kuhn is history? Or do you think the PC will go south with the whole job? You know, poke holes in the arrest?”
“My gut tells me…”
“Hold on, Mick. Let me write this down. When you start with the gut thing you’re almost never wrong.”
“Almost?”
Michelle and Mickey laugh.
“As I was saying, I believe the DA will approve the charges.”
“That’s plural, Mick. What else is Kuhn going for?”
“All five accidents, including Lazoryszak’s. Four leaving the scene and his own collision. Plus damage to two city vehicles and everything else that goes along with not cooperating in the DUI investigation. So back to your is-Kuhn-history question. Absolutely! Can’t see his pal the commish fudging too much with the facts.”
“Good, it’s about time. My dad told me stories about that guy.”
“And they’re all true, Shelle.”
“Ya know, what will stink about this whole thing is Kuhn will get hired right away by some boss whose butt he saved by burying an IA complaint.”
“Funny you should say that, Shelle. I heard he had a visitor at the Police Detention Unit, a recently retired, or should I say ‘booted out the door,’ Deputy Commissioner. Who happens to be the new Director of Security, thanks to his Godfather and Senator Nardina, with the PHA.”
“I know exactly who you’re talking about. Ya think he offered Kuhn a job?”
“My spies say he offered it and Kuhn accepted it gladly. But it ain’t gonna fly.”
“Why do you say that, Mick? Enlighten me.”
“The dopey deputy should know that his people are certified by the same state commission that covers the PD. It’s that whole Act 120 thing. So—”
“So when Kuhn loses his PPD credentials he can’t just pick up and move to some other cop shop like nothing happened. Right?”
“Exactly.”
“Good stuff, Mick. I’ll get one of my guys to run on that angle and have another find out where he was drinking. So ya gonna get AID to link all the Kuhn jobs together?”
“As soon as I get off the phone with you, Shelle. But before you hang up and write your Kuhn Op, I want to tell you I got a couple of solid leads on Michael Odysseus. So hopefully soon you’ll be able to write the final chapter on the ‘91, We the People Trials exposé.”
“No shit? You know where the bastard is? Where? Tell me, Mick. Where?”
“Slow down. I will tell you this. I got a couple of loose ends to tie up and then I’m headed for Europe.”
“Where, Mick? I’m available to go with you.”
“Not this time, Shelle. Hopefully I’ll be going on official business if the PC buys into my reasoning. That’s unless he’s gonna mess with me over having his favorite gink locked up. And in that case I’m going on holiday.”
“I wish you’d reconsider my offer. I should be there. I helped you guys get him. And besides, I’m the one he keeps writing those damn letters to.”
“Believe me, I know how you feel about the guy. But…”
“Still trying to protect me, ain’t ya, Mick?”
Mickey doesn’t respond. “How’s your Pop anyway, Shelle? Did he ever finish his second book? I loved The Girl in the Red Beret. I show off my signed copy to everyone. He definitely has a way with words. Guess it runs in the family.”
“Okay, Mick. I know what you’re doing. You win. But you will give me the exclusive, right?”
“Of course, you earned it, Shelle. Look, I gotta get on my horse. I’ll call ya, all right?”
“All right, Mick. Be safe.”
“You too, kiddo.”
Mickey hangs up. Michelle sits at her desk with the phone still pressed against her right ear.
He’s gotta stop protecting me. I’m a big girl now. But I still love the guy.
Michelle hangs up the phone and yells, “Frankie. Got something for your Councilwoman Lazoryszak story. Bring Dottie with you. I have something for her, too”
“On my way, Boss.”
CHAPTER 8
“Death does not come without reason.”
Irish Proverb
Mickey has given up on sleeping for now. He’ll try to grab a couple of hours
later tonight before he has to be back at work. His adrenaline is pumping way too quickly for any downtime. He still needs to call Captain Perino at AID to move him in the direction of stringing together all five of this morning’s accidents in East Division. Starting with Councilwoman Lazoryszak and ending with Kuhn’s “come to rest location” under the York and Dauphin El stop. He also wants to get the captain ready to counter Lazoryszak’s contention that somebody in the PD is fudging the investigation.
Once that’s in the works, Mickey will be better prepared if the PC still wants him to handle a press conference on the Kuhn DUI arrest. A conference that can either make or break the PC’s public persona as a no-nonsense manager.
Mickey guesses that Kuhn will find himself under the bus on this one. In the Philly PD, friendships come and go. It’s image and individual survival that really count. So it looks like there will be an opening for an inspector at IA real soon. Mickey is also hoping to redeem himself just enough for the commissioner to approve him for an “on official business” trip to Ireland based on new intel. If not, he’ll have his chief approve some vacation time. Either way, before long, Mickey’s headed across the Atlantic.
Next on Mickey’s agenda is an unannounced visit to Jerry Drum’s brick row home in the Fairmount section of the city. An area he knows well. It’s where he spent his adolescence, attended Saint Francis Elementary, and met his wife. It’ll be a surprise if Mickey doesn’t run into someone from “the old neighborhood” while he’s tracking down the retired PD employee and sheep ranch proprietor, Jerry Drum.
Mickey calls AID and successfully makes his case to Captain Perino. Then waits for a call from the PC’s office. When he doesn’t receive his “you’re a bad boy for having my favorite inspector locked up” call, Mickey’s guessing Captain Perino got to the PC and shared his new insights on the Kuhn incident. He’s also thinking the councilwoman finally got through to him.
Mickey looks at his watch. Something should have broken by now. Guess the boss has called off the dogs. Hurray for my side.
Mickey splashes some cold water on his face and makes a quick change to street clothes. He’ll use his private vehicle for the trip to Fairmount because he’s officially off duty. Although any cop will tell you they’re never really off duty. If something goes down in front of a cop, he or she is going to react. At least the good ones do. And sometimes that action ends in injury or loss of life. But if the Department thinks that action may cause “liability problems,” the big bosses will parrot the PD’s “guidelines” for off-duty action, “Call 911 and become a good witness.”
Mickey straps on his black nylon, padded holster and snaps his new Glock 26 in place. He checks his Timex again, a watch that belonged to his Da, the original Officer Devlin.
Mickey takes the Roosevelt Boulevard south to Kelly Drive past Boat House Row on the east side of the Schuylkill River. At the newly re-bronzed statue of Joan of Arc he takes a left up 25th Street to Olive Street. Jerry Drum’s house is one of only three homes left standing on the odd-numbered side of the street. The rest of the homes were raised thirty years ago and replaced with a huge employee parking lot behind the 1927 Art Deco–styled Fidelity Mutual Life Insurance Company Building. The Insurance Company owned the entire two-acre site.
The parking lot covers both sides of Olive Street, secured at either end with a ten-foot cyclone fence and gate. There are rumors at the highest levels that in the future the building with its stunning twin cathedral-like front entrance will be sold and used as an annex for the city’s world-famous Museum of Art. Until that time, Drum’s two-story house anchors the west end of the 2500 block of Olive Street. A three-story corner property occupied by a family-owned plumbing and heating supply business anchors the east end. The business, a father and son venture, has been a mainstay in the neighborhood for as long as Mickey can remember. In fact, Mickey ran into the son, Tom, a history professor at Temple University, a few years ago when he was taking an evening class.
Mickey parks his classic ‘69 Mustang on 25th Street and walks a short distance to Jerry Drum’s nicely maintained row house. The bricks on the front of the house have been steam-cleaned and newly pointed. There’s a wide bay window on the first floor and green shutters on all the windows. As he walks toward 2505 Mickey sees Drum’s 1992 Ford 150 pickup parked two homes away. Out of habit, he feels the shiny black hood with his left palm. The one with Drum’s vanity tag, BLAT-HACH, written on it in blue ink. Good! It’s cold. Mickey makes a mental note of the rest of the area. It’s another one of those cop things.
Always cautious, Mickey resists walking up the four brownstone steps to Drum’s fancy white aluminum storm door. It goes back to his rookie year when he mistakenly did just that at a suspect’s home in the 35th District, and ended up, as he put it, “on his Irish arse.” Instead, Mickey stands next to the steps and knocks forcefully on the bottom of Drum’s storm door. He waits, in legal jargon, “a reasonable amount of time” for a response. No one answers. He tries a second time, still no answer.
Before he can knock a third time, the rhythmic pop, pop-pop sound of an automatic fills the air. Mickey instinctively draws his weapon and takes cover behind the yellow VW bug directly in front of 2503. Fortunately for Mickey, he left his cell on after he called Central Detectives earlier in the morning. He punches in 911.
“Operator 153. What’s your emergency?”
“C Charlie 32.”
“Charlie.”
“Ninth District. Shots fired inside 2-5-0-5 Olive Street.”
“All cars stand-by. From Charlie 32. In the Ninth District gunshots coming from inside 2-5-0-5 Olive.”
Immediately, ninth district officers and supervisors start to respond.
“Charlie 32 number of injuries?”
“Unknown at this time. Have a supervisor meet me at 2-5 and Olive.”
Police Radio continues transmitting Mickey’s call for assistance over Central Band and the citywide J-John Band.
“Charlie 32.”
“Charlie.”
“Give me a unit at the east end of the alley on the 2-5 side. Have them use the 2400 block of Perrot Street to approach. Give me another unit at 2-6 and Meredith to secure the other end.”
Police radio continues to transmit and send cars and wagons to the requested areas.
“32. Notify Stakeout and have them meet me at the corner of 2-5 and Olive. I’m in soft clothes. Point of information. The property is owned by a retired civilian PD employee. Run the address for registered weapons. And have Fire Rescue stand-by. I’ll leave my cell on until district personnel arrive.”
“On it, Charlie. Stand by one.”
Mickey can visualize exactly what Operator 153 is doing. Within seconds, he can hear the comforting wail of police sirens. Within minutes, 9th District officers have already started to secure both ends of the alley behind the Drum house. From his new position he can see the sergeant, 9B, arrive, and block traffic at 2-5 and Fairmount, then double time to his location.
“Radio. Reinforcements have arrived. I’m gonna hang up.”
“Roger that Charlie 32. We have 9B on the air, sir.”
“Got him. Thanks.”
Mickey puts his cell back in its leather holder on his left hip.
“Hey, Saarg. Nice move to block traffic.”
“Hey, Cap. What we got?”
Mickey gives the sergeant the condensed version of the Jerry Drum saga and finishes with the pop, pop-pop.
“How do you want to proceed, sir?”
“Once we’ve secured the area, I want to get in 2505 and have a look-see. Can you make that happen?”
“Piece of cake, Boss.”
The sergeant raises Police Radio and begins to “make things happen.”
“We’re good, Cap. I got two cops at each end of the alley. A couple of my guys are diverting foot traffic at the outer perimeter. And 9A has two of his people ready to evacuate the neighbors around the target house if necessary. Plus I got a pair of eyes gain
ing access to the second-floor rear of 2506 Meredith across from Drum’s.”
“Excellent! Let’s at least get the folks in 2503 and 2501 at a safe distance.”
“Already working on it, Boss. Got Radio checking the Coles Directory for phone numbers.”
The sergeant grabs and holds the earpiece in his right ear.
“Radio got hold of 2501. And they’re coming out the side door on 25th. They said that 03 is up for sale and vacant.”
“Good! Did you hear if Stakeout is responding?”
“Got Sam 5 at 2-4 and Olive already. They’re suiting up. I sent 9-7 car to secure their truck. Should be at this location in…”
Just then two Stakeout officers dressed in black Kevlar vests and helmets arrive on a dead run, salute Mickey, take a knee, and place the butts of their M16s on the ground.
Mickey returns the salute to the well-equipped officers.
“Hey, guys.”
“Captain.”
Mickey brings the team up to snuff on the Drum house.
“What do you want us to do?”
“We need to get into that house.” Mickey points to 2505.
“The sergeant’s guys have the back secured. You got the heavy armor and the expertise so the entry is yours. The sergeant and I got your back.”
The older of the two Stakeout officers speaks up. “No disrespect, Cap. But the entry will go a lot smoother and safer if me and my partner take the door, secure the interior, and get you inside when it’s cool.”
Mickey turns to the 9th District Sergeant. “Inform Radio we’re switching this job to J John Band. Give it a minute, then raise all your guys and confirm their status. Also tell Radio I need that firearms history. I’m not gonna send these nice gentlemen in there without it.”
“Yes, sir.”
The sergeant moves a few yards away, squats down behind a compact American car to make the status change, and check on the firearms history for 2505 while Mickey directs the Stakeout officers.
“As soon as the sergeant gets all of us on the same page, I’ll release you to do your thing. When you’re in position give me the thumbs-up and I’ll let the district cops know you’re on the move.”
Dublin Odyssey Page 6
