Cassidy's Corner

by Henry Hack

  “What do you want?”

  “Are we still on for dinner tomorrow night?”

  “You have to be kidding. After the way you spoke to me in that interview?”

  “You have to learn to distinguish between our professional association, which you damn well know is highly adversarial, and our private association which, I hope, will be pleasant and comfortable.”

  “You’re right,” she said. “I’m sorry for the attitude. I’m stressed and I’m tired. But the answer is still no to dinner.”

  “When will the answer be yes?”

  “It may never be yes.”

  “I won’t accept that. Let me throw one last attempt at you. If Hunter and Faliani find Serenenski soon, and he tells the truth, and in so doing clears me, will you reconsider? I mean this guy is the last item to resolve, isn’t it?”

  “I believe he is, but…”

  “But nothing. I am calling you tomorrow right after my shift is over. Will you tell me then if we’re going to Mario’s together, or if I’m going to Burger King alone?”

  She sat back in her chair and looked up at him for several seconds before she answered. “Call me tomorrow.”

  ●

  When they finished up the report, Joe drove Harry back to the precinct. They stopped at a White Castle for a few burgers and fries and got back to the stationhouse at 1:45. Harry checked to see if Captain Snyder was in, but his clerk said he was still in Mineola at an unscheduled Boro Patrol meeting. He walked down to the squad room. Hunter and Faliani had just come in and removed their top coats.

  “Any luck in finding Serenenski?” Harry asked them.

  “Not yet,” Nick said. “He doesn’t live at the Ditmars Boulevard address anymore, but the super says he sees him around the neighborhood. Says he’s got a job on weekdays, but on Saturday we should be able to locate him in the local OTB parlor.”

  “Good. I think if she’s satisfied with this guy’s story she may close the case out and get off my back.”

  “How’s it looking over there?” Pop asked.

  “I don’t know, but I know they don’t believe me about not choking Richie. They’ll probably zing me on that. Pop, can I have a minute alone with you? I need some advice only a father figure can give. Do you mind, Nick?”

  “I’ll go get some coffee.”

  “What’s up, Hoppy?”

  Harry related the interview with Susan and said, “She knows we are close, and she suspects you showed me the first letter. I think my story about picking it up from the desk satisfied her, but I’m not sure. We have to stick with that story.”

  “No problem, but you just said she knows we’re close. Are we? I’m not so sure anymore.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Vera and I don’t hear from you. We talk to your ex-wife more than we talk to you, and she’s a thousand miles away.”

  “I’m sorry, Pop, but I’m under a tremendous strain. The divorce blind-sided me and knocked me for a loop. I’m still dizzy over it. I crawled into my cave with my bottles of beer and scotch, and just as I started to come out, this Winston thing smacked me right between the eyes. That’s why I’m pushing you to get Serenenski, to wrap this case up. I’m ready to crack. Don’t you desert me, too.”

  Pop grabbed Harry in a hug and said, “I would never run out on you – never. But I have to be honest. I have the feeling something’s eating inside you that you’re not ready to let out. This guy Serenenski isn’t going to throw a curveball at me, is he?”

  “I don’t think so. Squeeze him hard. I’ll trust your conclusions.”

  “I’ll get him tomorrow for you. I promise.”

  ●

  On Saturday, December 31, the morning dawned with dark gray clouds, and the wind blew raw and damp from the northeast. Snow was on the way from the mid-west with the threat of a new low pressure area developing off the coast of Virginia and barreling up the coast later in the day. Maybe, Harry thought, it will keep the jerks that go to Times Square home and give those cops on the detail a break.

  When Harry rang in, the desk sergeant said, “I have a message here from Detective Faliani. It says, ‘We have our man. En route to Mineola. He didn’t come easy, but we made him an offer he couldn’t refuse.’ You know what that means?”

  “I sure do, Sarge. Thanks a lot.”

  John Serenenski sat in the interview room flanked by Hunter and Faliani. Susan Goldman sat across from him. He did not look happy. Susan began, “Mr. Serenenski…”

  He interrupted. “Like I told these two, it’s pronounced Srenski. That’s the way I say it. Get it?”

  “Sure, Mr. Srenski,” she said. “No problem.”

  “No, the problem is I’m here. I told these guys when they picked me up in Queens I got nothing to say. I don’t know nothing about no letters. Who are you anyway?”

  To the surprise of the two detectives, Susan sprang from her chair and shouted, “Listen to me you low-life scumbag. I’m in charge here, that’s who I am, and I’m asking the questions, not you. Now if you value your freedom and if you want to be back at OTB in a few hours, you’ll goddamn tell us what we want to know. Am I clear?”

  “Yeah,” he said in a low voice, “but I didn’t do nuthin.’”

  “Yes, you did Mr. Srenski. You wrote these two letters to the District Attorney and that’s why you’re in Internal Affairs because I’m investigating your allegations against Cassidy. Be straight with us and you’re outta here. Lie to me and you’re locked up for hindering prosecution, obstructing justice and criminal facilitation. Got me?”

  “Yeah.”

  Hunter and Faliani were impressed. Those charges were real, but none of them were applicable here. But they sure sounded scary, and it looked like they scared Johnny boy pretty good.

  “You wrote these letters, correct?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I think Cassidy’s the guy who stabbed Richie. He’s a no good cop.”

  “Do you believe that? Or did you just want to get Cassidy in trouble?”

  “Both.”

  “Then give us your story.”

  Srenski related the first encounter pretty much as the other four already had, including the definite fact Cassidy had choked Richie, not just grabbed his shirt. Srenski was about through with the second encounter when Susan interrupted and said, “Did Officer Cassidy put his hands on Winston again? Choke him or hit him?”

  “No, but I think he was working up to it. That’s when I got scared and left.”

  “About what time was that?” Pop asked.

  “I think around 3:30. Richie wanted to close up and Cassidy didn’t seem ready to leave.”

  “When you left the bar, did you go straight back to Queens?”

  “No, I hung around across the street in a doorway. I smoked a couple of cigarettes. I had a good view into the bar.”

  “And what happened in there? What did you observe?” Susan asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “When did you leave?” Nick asked.

  “I was just going to light up another smoke when Cassidy came out of the bar and walked up to his car and got in.”

  “And then?” Susan asked.

  “I got out of there and took the subway home.”

  “What makes you think Cassidy stabbed Winston?”

  “He coulda waited for him to come out and followed Richie back where they found him.”

  “Do you believe that, Mr. Srenski? Or are you just still pissed off at Cassidy for arresting your brother, and now it’s payback time?” Pop asked.

  “That prick tuned my brother up. He didn’t have to do that, and nothing happened to him then.”

  “Nothing happened to him because no evidence existed to back up a brutality charge,” Susan said. “Did you know your brother and his friend came at Cassidy with hammers? They were lucky he didn’t shoot them dead, Mr. Srenski.”

  “I still think he’s a prick.”

  “Your opinion doe
sn’t matter,” she said. “Only facts matter. I am asking you if you have any facts to back up the allegations in your letters. Did you see Officer Cassidy attack Richard Winston?”

  “No.”

  “Did you see Officer Cassidy leave his vehicle to follow Richard Winston?”

  “No.”

  “Are these allegations in the letters your conclusions based on your opinion of how things happened?”

  “Yes.”

  “But not based on any facts whatsoever?”

  “Correct.”

  She looked over at Hunter and Faliani. They shook their heads. She said, “Okay, we’re done here. Give your statement to the detectives, and then they’ll drive you back to Queens. Detective Hunter, before you begin, may I see you in my office?”

  She closed the door, motioned for Hunter to sit down and said, “What do you think?”

  “Pretty much as we thought. We figured he was the letter writer and had an axe to grind.”

  “Do you think he was truthful?”

  “Yes.”

  “That makes five out five say Cassidy choked Winston.”

  “Afraid so.”

  “Is there anything else we have to do? Any more interviews?”

  “We could catch the real perp, but the only loose ends on your case with Cassidy are the two bar patrons wintering in Florida.”

  “Yeah, and that would most likely raise the choke total to seven.”

  Pop did not reply and Susan said, “How is the investigation on the perp going?”

  “Nowhere. Where do you go from here with Harry?”

  “What’s your schedule?”

  “Nick and I are off tomorrow and Monday.”

  “So am I, and the office is essentially closed Monday for the New Year’s Holiday. How about we set up a meeting for Tuesday morning and run everything by the inspector. Maybe we can wrap it up then?”

  “That’s fine with me. Let me know the time and Nick and I will be there.”

  “Great. Thanks for all your help in there.”

  “You did most of the work, Sergeant, and you did a good job. You shocked me a little when you went at him hard.”

  “I was surprised when I went at him he didn’t ask for a lawyer.”

  “Nick and I convinced him on the ride out from Queens a lawyer was not in his best interests.”

  “I’d like to hear how you did that.” she said with a slight smile.

  “I don’t think so, Sergeant,” he said with a huge smile.

  ●

  Susan went down to the cafeteria for a sandwich. When she returned she saw Rita was back in her office from her scheduled interviews. She walked in and said, “How’s it going?”

  “Not bad. How’s the Cassidy case progressing?”

  Susan filled Rita in and said, “Can you think of anything I left out?”

  “No, I think you got all the bases covered for Gregorovich. Your guy Cassidy is going to get zinged for the choke, though. I’m convinced he did it, despite his denials.”

  “So am I, but I understand it. Winston is a true scumbag.”

  “Be that as it may, the rules have been violated and the Department must get its revenge. How’s your personal situation with him?”

  “He wants to take me to dinner tonight.”

  “On New Year’s Eve?”

  “He’s been asking the last couple of days, and I’ve been refusing, but I left a slight opening. I told him if I wrapped up my inquisition – as he calls it – by today, I would consider it.”

  “And?”

  “And he’s going to call me here at four for my answer.”

  “And just what will your answer be, my dear?”

  “I don’t know. I’m not doing anything. I have an invitation to a party out East on the Island, but I’m concerned about the snow coming. What are your plans?”

  “Plans? I haven’t had any plans since I dumped that jerk, Andy, four months ago. If you don’t go out with Cassidy tonight, ask him if he’ll take me. Even an Irisher about to get zinged for brutality is better than New Year’s Eve all alone by the telephone.”

  Susan laughed and said, “Seriously, what should I do?”

  “Susan, it’s only a dinner. It’s New Year’s Eve. Enjoy it and relax. But remember, when dinner’s over go straight home. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200. Don’t let that Irisher charm your panties off.”

  “I’m surprised you’re advising me to go.”

  “Look, one way or the other you have to get straight with your feelings over this guy. I’m hoping after two hours in a restaurant with him, he’ll prove to be dull and boring, and you’ll walk away, never to see him again. But you’ve got the itch and you have to scratch it. Get it over with. Then get over him. Remember, he is career poison.”

  “Thanks, Rita, as always.”

  “Hey, I have a Master’s Degree in Psychology plus a good dose of Yiddish common sense. Maybe I should write an advice column for the lovelorn.”

  “I’ll see you later before we leave, but just in case I don’t, have a happy and healthy New Year.”

  “Same to you. Let’s hope next year is a hell of a lot better than this one was.”

  Chapter Eleven

  When Harry made his 2:15 call-in, Sergeant Miller said Pop Hunter wanted to talk to him. “I’ll switch you upstairs. Hold on.”

  “Hoppy?”

  “How did it go, Pop?”

  Pop filled him in, emphasizing the five for five chokes and also emphasizing the fact this current conversation did not take place.

  “Thanks for the info. So it looks like Tuesday is decision day on me?”

  “Yes, and before you ask, I’ll try to clue you in as soon as I can after the meeting.”

  “Thanks again, Pop. I’m glad this is over.”

  “It ain’t over till the fat lady sings, and the fat lady’s name is Inspector Peter Gregorovich. Don’t be too relieved yet. Don’t let your guard down.”

  “I won’t. I hope you and Vera have a great New Year. Tell her I said hello and ask her forgiveness for my rudeness. I promise to be a better friend to both of you as soon as this is officially over.”

  “Happy New Year to you, too. Vera will be glad to see you again.”

  Harry took a final tour of his beat, stopping to wish a Happy New Year to several of the shop owners. He went in to Mario’s restaurant. Mario was not yet dressed in his tuxedo. The bar would open at five o’clock and they would start serving dinner at six.

  “Is that famous red sauce simmering already, Mario? It smells great in here.”

  “Your lady friend likes red sauce? Is she Italian?”

  “No, she’s Jewish, but she said she loves Italian food. That’s why I’m bringing her here, my friend.”

  “I promise you I won’t disappoint her. Is seven still the time?”

  “Yes, and will that little romantic table for two be ready for us?”

  “Of course. And Harry, it is good to see you will be with a woman instead of alone all the time. I worry about you.”

  “Yeah, I worry about me, too. See you at seven.”

  Harry walked back to the callbox and signed off duty, wishing Sergeant Miller a Happy New Year.

  “Same to you, Harry. Tomorrow we have a very short roll call for the holiday. In fact, Jasper and Coppola are both on personal days off, so you’re gonna have to drive Sector Baker alone.”

  “No problem, Sarge. It’s a Sunday. Nobody’ll wake up till early afternoon, except the church goers. Should be a quiet one.”

  Harry replaced the receiver and drove home. He dialed Internal Affairs and asked Miss Livermore for Sergeant Goldman, first wishing her a happy New Year. He had spent so much time over there recently she was already like an old friend. When Susan picked up he said, “Officer Cassidy, calling in as promised, Sergeant.”

  “What’s on your mind, Officer? I’m busy here.”

  “Busy, Sergeant?”

  “Yes, I’m deciding what to wear to dinner tonight.
It’s my first time out with this new guy, and I want to impress him.”

  “Sergeant, I guarantee you whatever you wear will impress the hell out of him. Where is he taking you?”

  “Some joint called Mario’s in Elmont. I hope he made a reservation – it’s New Year’s Eve, you know. You wouldn’t know how to get there from Carle Place, would you?”

  Harry gave her directions and said, “Reservation is for seven. See you then.”

  “By the way, just when did you make that reservation?”

  “Three days ago.”

  “Pretty confident I would accept, weren’t you?”

  “Hey, it’s not me. I knew the red sauce was an offer you just couldn’t refuse.”

  “See you at seven,” she said.

  He smiled a big smile and headed for the shower.

  ●

  Harry arrived at Mario’s at 6:45 and checked in. The small dining area was already half-filled, and Harry’s table was nicely set with candles and flowers. “I’m going to wait outside and have a smoke, Mario. Susan should be here soon.”

  He went outside and lit up, scanning the avenue and side street for a sign of her. He began to worry she would not come, and a few minutes later he was convinced of it. Then he spotted her pulling up to an empty spot down the street. She walked up to him and said, “Hi, Harry. Hope you haven’t been waiting long out in this cold. You should have been inside.”

  “I’m used to the weather, you know. C’mon, let’s go in and get a drink.”

  Harry noticed she had not apologized for her lateness, but then he thought he was being too critical. This was not police time where reporting to the exact minute was important. This was social time, and he should relax and lighten up. He helped her take her coat off, a long black one, trimmed with dark brown fur. He handed it to Mario and he raised his eyebrows as both he and Harry looked with approval at Susan. She was dressed in a plain black dress, cut just above the knee. It had two thin spaghetti straps, and the neckline was just low enough to barely reveal the tops of her breasts and that slight indentation where they joined. Her dress was complemented with black high heels with traces of silver sparkles. Her shiny auburn hair brushed the tops of her bare shoulders and her green eyes flashed as she smiled at Mario. She was drop-dead gorgeous, no doubt about it. Harry removed his topcoat and handed it to Mario. He had on his best suit, a navy pin stripe, with a light blue shirt and maroon tie.