When Hepburg asked Buczyk how close he was to Rayford when Rayford was giving those commands, Buczyk said that Rayford had jumped right over him as he was rolling around on the sidewalk and was never more than two or three steps away from him.
When Hepburg asked what was happening before Officer Rayford arrived, Buczyk said Hornyak had been “ragging and agitating me” for almost twenty minutes.
“What about?”
“Anything. Everything. Whatever he can think of. He’s just real pissed off at me—”
“Hey!” Mrs. Remaley shouted, picking up her gavel and banging it hard on the table. “You watch your language, mister. Any more talk like that and you’ll be in a lot more trouble than you are now!”
Buczyk stared at her, his chin dropping. “What’d I say? Huh? I say somethin’? What?”
“Oh don’t you play innocent with me, you get your mouth out of the gutter and back where it belongs, mister! I’m warning you!”
Buczyk splayed his hands and looked at Hepburg, who approached him, leaned in close, and whispered for a moment. When Hepburg backed away, Buczyk was shrugging and shaking his head. “That’s profanity? I didn’t know that was profanity. Man, I heard Dave Letterman say that.”
“Well if he’s who you’re going to use for a role model it’s no wonder you don’t know what’s proper language anymore. Don’t tell me what you hear on TV, mister, because if it were up to me, all the TVs in the world would be at the bottom of the ocean, where they belong. And if that’s where they were, I have no doubt our children would know how to read. And don’t you dare pretend you don’t know what you said, and there’ll be no more of that.”
“Okay, yes, ma’am,” Buczyk said, wide-eyed. “Where was I?”
“You were saying what you and Mr. Hornyak were doing before Officer Rayford arrived. You were saying, I believe, that he was ragging you, I think that’s your word, and I asked you what about.”
“Oh. Yeah. And I was sayin’—well I can’t say that anymore. So, uh, he’s just real real, uh, mad at me. I mean, we used to be buddies. You could almost say like best friends. Not almost. We were. Then we made the mistake of goin’ into business together, and it’s been all downhill ever since.”
“What kind of business?”
Buczyk sighed. “Aw, man, do I have to? I don’t really like to think about that. It still hurts, you know? Be accused by your best friend you cheated him.”
“Briefly, Mr. Buczyk, you don’t need to go into great detail.”
“Uh, we bred our dogs—I mean we hadn’t planned to breed ’em, it just sorta happened, and then we thought well, why not, it happened, let’s make some money offa it, you know? And so I sold the pups. He was supposed to get the pick of two litters and ten percent of what I got for sellin’ the rest. And that’s what started it all, that’s when he accused me of holdin’ out on him, cheatin’ him.”
“How long ago was this?”
“Like five, maybe six years ago.”
“And have there been other incidents between you two?”
“Over every little thing, whatever you can think of, if it was possible to start somethin’ over it, he started somethin’. Where the property line was, where the tree branches grew, where the leaves fell on the ground, where the leaves fell in the gutters, whose leaves fell in whose gutters, whose dog was … uh, doin’ their business in whose yard, whose car was parkin’ in whose space on the street, where you were supposed to put your garbage cans on the sidewalk, whether the property line ran all the way out to the curb or whether it stopped at the sidewalk, and if it stopped on the sidewalk on which side of the sidewalk, the side closest to the house or the side closest to the street, you name it, man, he started somethin’ about it.”
“Any of these arguments become more than just verbal? Say like in the recent past? The past month or so?”
“You’re referring to when I got arrested, right? For assault?”
“Yes I am.”
“Well I did.”
“Explain further, please.”
“He said somethin’, I said somethin’ back, he said somethin’ else, I don’t really know what started it, it just went back and forth, he started bringin’ up everything he was … uh, he was mad about. And then finally I just lost it and popped him one, I probably shouldn’ta done it, but, uh, hey, everybody has their limits, I guess, I don’t know. Then somebody called the cops, and that cop right there, uh, Officer Rayford, he showed up, and Hornyak started hollerin’ he wanted me arrested, so he arrested me. Took me in front of a magistrate—”
“District justice, do you mean?”
“Yeah. District whatever. Justice. And he went along.”
“Who? Mr. Hornyak?”
“Yeah. And soon as the officer said everything he had to say, he was in that magistrate’s face. Hornyak, you know, sayin’ he wanted me locked up, practically screamin’ I was a nutcase, I was a danger to the community, I was this, I was that, all kindsa nonsense. It was really humiliating. Next thing I know, I’m in the county jail ’cause I can’t pay the cash bond, and I was goin’ through that humiliation. Body cavity search, man. Talk about humiliation, lemme tell ya, there it is. Make you take your clothes off, and man, they, uh, they look everywhere—”
“You watch it, mister,” Mrs. Remaley said.
“What? What’d I say, I didn’t say anything wrong—did I?”
“Well forget about that search business and get on with it!”
“Yes, ma’am. Well, uh, the next day when I met my public defender, I found out why the bond was set so high. ’Cause it turned out Hornyak worked in that magistrate’s election campaign. I never knew that. Anyway, had to put my house up to get out, property bond. For some reason I don’t show up when I’m supposed to I could lose my house.”
“You planning not to show up?”
“No no, I’ll show up believe me, I’m just sayin’, I could, you know? It could happen. All ’cause I popped him one. Didn’t break nothin’, his nose, or his jaw, didn’t even loosen any teeth. Just cut the inside of his mouth a little bit, that’s all, Jesus—uh, sorry. Sorry, ma’am. Won’t slip again, promise.”
“Slip, yeah. Last warning, mister. One more slip like that, it’s going to cost you big. I have the authority to fine you, don’t think I don’t. And don’t think I won’t use it.”
“Promise I won’t, ma’am,” Buczyk said, trying to remember what he’d been saying. “Oh. He didn’t even need stitches. Is ’at worth somebody’s house? Just ’cause you worked in somebody’s election campaign, you can do that to somebody? Man!”
“When did this incident happen?” Mrs. Remaley interrupted Hepburg.
“Friday, April 2nd, two weeks to the day before the last one. The one where he got shot.”
“And are you now awaiting trial on those charges?” Hepburg said before Mrs. Remaley could interrupt him again.
“Yes—well no, not anymore. I mean I was, but I pleaded guilty, so there’s not gonna be any trial. Just a sentencing hearing, that’s all.”
“Uh, Mr. Buczyk, I have only one thing further to ask you, and that is, for some time in the early part of our inquiry, you were, uh, to say the least, uh, reluctant to testify, do you recall that?”
“Yes I do.”
“And yet here you are now, testifying. Were you given some inducement to testify?”
“Yes I was.”
“Would you explain that to the committee, please?”
“I was wondering if you were going to get around to that, Counselor,” Mrs. Remaley said. “I was beginning to think maybe you weren’t. Because I’m very anxious to hear this myself. Let’s hear it, mister. I want to know exactly who you talked to and what they promised you.”
“Uh, ma’am, I don’t know why you keep talkin’ to me like that, I don’t think I ever did anything to you—”
“Mister, quit your sniveling and answer the question.”
“Whew, wow. Uh, well, uh, the advice I got was, uh, I knew s
ome things maybe certain people might wanna know. So I held back. I didn’t say anything until, uh, you know, my lawyer said it was okay to say it. He said I say it to the right person I could probably get one of the charges thrown out.”
“I knew it!” Mrs. Remaley said, throwing back her shoulders and lifting her chin. “I knew that’s what happened. The curse of American justice—plea bargaining!”
Valcanas covered his laughter with phony coughing.
Hepburg cleared his throat several times before asking, “And is that in fact what happened?”
“Yeah. The cops brought it up first—”
“The cops?! I knew it!” Mrs. Remaley said.
“Madam Chairperson, I beg your pardon, but would you please let the witness finish his answer?”
“Well tell him to talk faster! I want to hear this as much as anybody in this room! More!”
“Talkin’ as fast as I can, ma’am. Uh, where was I? Oh. And then I, uh, I talked with an assistant district attorney, and then I signed a plea agreement.”
“Assistant district attorney? Which one? I want his name!”
“Madam, please?”
“Which one?”
“Ma’am, I don’t know his name, I’m terrible at rememberin’ names. All I know is, he said, uh, in return for my testimony about what happened that night, I would, uh, I mean they would throw out the one charge of aggravated assault and they would guarantee I would be placed in ARD. And I’d get no jail time for the other charge, uh, the simple assault.”
“Nothing further, Madam Chairperson.”
“Well I have something further,” Mrs. Remaley said.
Hepburg, who’d resumed his seat, stood again and said, “Uh, excuse me, Madam Chairperson, but I think it’s Mr. Valcanas’s turn.”
“He can wait, I’m not going to sit around while he pours sugar all over this thing—”
“Objection as to tone and diction, Madam.”
“Overruled. Sit down.”
Valcanas sat back down and once again covered his face with his hands to hide his laughter.
“So you made a deal to testify here, is that right, mister?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“So what’s this AR whatever you said? AR what?”
Hepburg stood and started to explain it,
“I wasn’t asking you, I was asking him.”
“I think I can explain it better than he can.”
“Says you. Sit down. I want him to explain it. I want to know why every time one of our investigators tried to talk to you, mister, you had nothing to say, and now all of a sudden you can’t stop talking—I want to know exactly how that happened?”
“I told you. The detective told me—”
“Which detective? From the city? Or from the county?”
“The city, I guess. Yeah, it was the city. We were here, this is City Hall, right? This is where we were. He had an Italian name, Carlotti or somethin’ like that.”
“A city detective? Are you absolutely certain? Do you know what you are saying?”
“Yeah. I think. Why?”
“A city detective? The first time anybody mentioned a deal to you, it was a city detective? In City Hall, in this building we’re in now? He’s the first one who offered you a deal?”
“Yeah. He’s the first one I remember.”
“Officer? You in the back? Go find this detective, this Carlotti.”
Fischetti had been daydreaming. He stiffened and said, “What? Excuse me?”
“Wake up! Go find this detective, this Carlotti whoever.”
Councilman Figulli barely lifted his chin off his fist and piped up, “It’s Carlucci, Anna Mae, Carlucci, it ain’t Carlotti.rdquo;
“Well I don’t see his name on our witness list. Either one of those names. Why isn’t it? Does somebody want to explain that to me? And when you’re through explaining that—whoever wants to try—would somebody please explain why a city detective is investigating a city patrolman? I was told distinctly by the first assistant district attorney—and by the mayor—that county detectives were the ones going to do the investigation into this. It’s ridiculous to have a city detective investigating this shooting, it’s a gross conflict of interest, my God, can’t anybody else here see that? We’re going to be a laughingstock. I can see the headlines now, for God’s sake. This is worse than embarrassing, it’s infuriating!”
“Aw calm down, Anna Mae, Mother a God, you’re hysterical, for Christ sake.”
“How dare you talk to me that way! You of all people, you think you can use that kind of language with me?!”
“That ain’t profanity, Anna Mae, that’s me prayin’. You know, like Jesus, please make her calm down.”
“Don’t you get snotty with me, Egidio. You of all people. And furthermore, you—you’re on the Safety Committee, are you telling me you knew this investigation was being conducted by a city detective? And I suppose that little fact just slipped your mind, is that it?”
“Relax, will ya? Will you relax? The county guys didn’t wanna have nothin’ to do with it. It’s a city matter, the city should investigate it, whattaya think. If you had a TV, you might learn somethin’. If you watched NYPD Blue, you’d know that every time their cops do somethin’ wrong, you think they have somebody else come in and do the investigatin’? They have guys from, uh, whatta they call it, IAD, Internal Affairs Division, that’s New York cops, Anna Mae, they come in, they don’t bring outsiders in. County detectives, Mother a God, what’sa matter with you? Matter with you, what’sa matter with me—what was I thinkin’?”
“This is not a TV show, you moron! Why Julie ever married you is one thing; how she stayed married to you after she actually heard you talk is something Jesus himself couldn’t explain.”
“Aw that’s it, I’m outta here,” Figulli said, jumping up and heading for the back door. “You wanna play big-shot crusader, fine. You can just go right ahead and play without me, I ain’t puttin’ up with another second of your crap, see you later, alligator mouth.”
“This meeting’s still in session, you can’t walk out! You come back here! Come back here, Egidio, you’re out of order! Stop him, Officer! Stop him!”
Fischetti shook his head as though to clear webs of confusion away. Before Fischetti could react, Figulli was by him and out the door.
Valcanas leaned close to Rayford and whispered, “I’ve been practicin’ law so long, God, I honestly can’t remember when I started. But this? I’ve never seen anything remotely like this. Gilbert and Sullivan couldn’t’ve written this.”
“Who?”
“Guess I’m not gonna make happy hour at Mr. P’s after all.”
“Who’d you say before? Gilbert and who?”
“Never mind. Coupla dead white guys. Probably wouldn’t think this was funny at all. Probably just me. And the more I think about it, the more unfunny it gets—oh God, there she goes, stompin“’ out again. See, if we were in Jerusalem, Palestine, the West Bank, someplace like that, at least when we left here today we could leave with some hope that somebody might think she was important enough to assassinate. Where are all the terrorists when you really need one?”
VALCANAS WAVED Hepburg over and led him off to a corner of the room.
“Hep, we gotta do something.”
“You’re telling me? Jesus, I knew it was gonna be bad after my first meeting with her, but I didn’t know how bad.”
“Well, listen, how would you feel if I called the DA, got him to explain the facts of life to her?”
“Oh hell, do it, I’ll dial the number for you, except it’s not gonna work. Woman’s a fanatic. Absolutely, positively, irrevocably convinced plea bargaining is a plague, the curse of the system, it’s what’s destroying all our judicial values, you name it, whatever cockamamie theory anybody ever had about our courts, she’s got it all boiled down to no more plea bargains, that’s what’ll fix it. What’s the matter, Mo, you look like you don’t remember who she is.”
“I
don’t. Should I? Who is she?”
“Hell, man, she’s the head case who ran against Failan for DA three, four elections ago—can’t remember which one myself—you remember now?”
“I must’ve had a couple thousand too many martinis, no, I don’t remember her—oh wait. She the one ran against him and isn’t an attorney?”
“Now you got her.”
“Oh for Christ sake. Well hell, it doesn’t matter, we’ve still gotta do something about her. Hep, I’m open for suggestions—I may as well be pro bono here, but I don’t wanna go broke over this nonsense. I thought one morning, two witnesses, once Buczyk got through we could wrap it up in the afternoon with the forensics.”
“Silly you. Anybody needs to go behind the woodshed for this, it’s Figulli. She was his idea.”
“Well what the hell’s he think he’s accompiishin’, walkin’ out? Just multiplied the misery. Listen, unless you got a better idea, I’m callin’ Failan. He owes me a couple. And I’m gonna suggest to him as strongly as I can that he and Bellotti and you and I sit her down and explain the facts of life, I mean, Christ, this keeps goin’ the way it’s goin’, there’s no tellin’ how long she’ll drag this out, now that she thinks she’s got a soapbox. I’m surprised she agreed to keep the doors closed.”
“Didn’t. She lost, two to one.”
“Should’ve known,” Valcanas said, patting all his pockets. “Now where the hell’d I put my cell phone?”
“Here,” Hepburg said, pulling his out. “Use mine.”
“Thanks. Wait, what kinda lever we got? If she’s not gonna listen to reason, we gotta have somethin’. What’s she got on Figulli?”
Hepburg shrugged. “If I knew, believe me, I would’ve used it before now.”
“Gotta be somethin’ ugly or he’d’ve never gone for it. Think Failan knows?”
“Anybody knows, it’s Bellotti,” Hepburg said. “Way he works, he wouldn’t have played along without knowin’. Tried to pump him after that first meeting, he just smiled and waved me off.”
Saving Room for Dessert Page 27
