EQMM, May 2011

by Dell Magazine Authors

  "Try me,” she said, and handed him one of her own cards.

  * * * *

  Back in his car, Manley used his cell phone to call FBI agent Fred Summar and give him a report on the Kane girl's condition. “What's new on your end?” he asked.

  "I talked to Platt over at DEA. He likes what we're setting up and has agreed to come in with us. He's going to exercise Drug Enforcement Agency jurisdiction over the case with a backdated file pegging the Pilsen girl as a possible trafficker in pills. So we can count on her being removed from arraignment status in the county."

  "Sounds good. You vouch for this guy Platt?"

  "Yeah. We've pulled a few shortcuts together in the past to make cases. He'll play ball for a piece of the action."

  "Okay. Where do we go from here?"

  "We need to ring in somebody from DOJ. It's imperative that we have Justice Department participation arranged before you move on Pilsen. You on anybody's attaboy list over there?"

  "When I was in vice, I worked with a pretty sharp gal named Angela Domini on some interstate prostitution task-force cases."

  "How'd she seem?"

  "Amiable. Why don't you contact her. Use my name. Tell her I'm setting this thing up with you. See if it interests her."

  "Copy that,” said Summar. “When are you planning to move on Pilsen?"

  "Tonight."

  * * * *

  At the Pilsen home that evening, Dan Manley sat down in the breakfast room with Leo and Diane Pilsen. Diane had a coffee service set up, and Leo had a bottle of Napoleon brandy for a bracer.

  "I wish I had better news for you two,” Manley said. “But I don't. Katie is in big trouble. Serious trouble."

  "Oh my God.” Diane's hands began to tremble. Leo reached over to calm her.

  "How serious, Danny?” Pilsen asked.

  Manley ran down the medicine-cabinet scavenger hunt, the traffic stop, all of the ensuing events, and outlined what the consequences might be.

  "Katie was driving the van. She was the only adult among the group—"

  "Danny, she's just a kid,” Pilsen objected.

  "Put that out of your head, Leo. She's an adult, as of last week when she turned eighteen. Get used to that. She can be held responsible for what happens to the other five who were in the vehicle with her—all of whom are juveniles. She can be charged with contributing to the delinquency of minors, conspiring with minors to obtain alcoholic beverages, conspiring with minors to obtain controlled substances, burglary of residences for every home medicine cabinet they raided—"

  "This is her first offense,” Leo ventured. “She can get off with probation. I know some county judges—"

  "You know any federal judges?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "Late today the DEA lassoed the case. Katie will be transferred to federal custody."

  "Oh my God, no!” Diane Pilsen gasped.

  "And that's not the worst of it,” Manley said evenly. “The Kane girl is in a coma. I checked out her condition a little while ago. The doctor treating her thinks she may have brain damage. She may even die."

  Leo Pilsen turned ashen gray. He reached for the brandy bottle, bobbing his chin at Manley, who nodded okay. Pilsen spiked all their coffees with a liberal shot.

  "How—how is she right now, Danny?” Diane Pilsen asked. Her voice trembled in concert with her hands.

  "She's sick, but not seriously sick. I had her put in an isolation cell away from the other detainees. She's got a cot and a toilet and some privacy, and she's being given anti-nausea medicine.” He was making it up as he went along. “But that's just for tonight; tomorrow the feds will take over her custody."

  "Do they know who she is?” Leo asked.

  Manley shrugged. “If they don't, they soon will."

  "She can't tell them anything, you know. About my business, I mean—"

  Manley sat back from the table and locked eyes with Pilsen. “Will Frank Carpenter believe that, Leo?” he asked quietly.

  Pilsen stared at his old boyhood friend, and his wife stared at Pilsen the same way. “Leo—” she said tearfully, pleadingly.

  "What can I do, Danny?” the gangster asked helplessly.

  "It's a federal matter, Leo,” Manley told him evenly. “You know what you can do."

  * * * *

  The next morning, Dan Manley accompanied Leo Pilsen to an apartment on Lake Shore Drive that was an FBI safe house. They were met by FBI Agent Fred Summar, DEA Agent Leon Platt, and a woman named Angela Domini, who was an assistant United States attorney with the Department of Justice. After an exchange of introductions, Angela Domini opened the conversation.

  "I know how concerned you must be about your daughter, Mr. Pilsen,” she began. “Let me assure you that she is now in federal custody and receiving the best of medical care in a nearby suburban hospital—"

  "When can I see her?” Pilsen interrupted.

  "Soon. Meanwhile, there's a telephone over there with a secure line; if you'd like to make a quick call to your wife to assure her that your daughter is being well cared for, please help yourself."

  As Pilsen made the call, the four law-enforcement officers made small talk among themselves, as if the matter being dealt with was no more than a local PTA meeting.

  After Pilsen's call had been made, Angela Domini resumed her conversation with him. “You have come to us, Mr. Pilsen,” she pointed out the obvious. “What can we do for you?"

  "I want to help my daughter,” Pilsen said. “I want to get her out of the mess she's in."

  "All right. I think that can be arranged.” Angela Domini was an attractive brunette, impeccably dressed in a St. John knit, wearing pearls. Her attitude as she spoke was cool and impassive. “What are you prepared to do for us, Mr. Pilsen?"

  Pilsen shrugged. “Whatever it takes."

  "Well, what it will take, Mr. Pilsen,” she said quietly, evenly, “is full and complete disclosure by you of all your ongoing criminal activities, and all of the people with whom you are associated in those activities. Do you understand what that entails?"

  "Yeah—I do."

  "We will, of course, provide you and your family with full government security in our Federal Witness Protection Program. That will begin immediately after our first debriefing with you. Is that agreeable?"

  After a nervous glance at Dan Manley, Pilsen swallowed dryly and answered, “Y-yes."

  "All right.” Angela Domini removed a set of formal-looking documents from her briefcase and placed them side by side on a table. Handing Pilsen a pen, she said, “These are formal contracts you are making with the United States government to cooperate fully in the investigation of any criminal matter put forth to you. Sign each set of papers on the lines with a blue star next to them, please."

  After again glancing nervously at Manley, Leo Pilsen signed the documents.

  "Thank you,” Angela Domini said. ‘'Now come with me, please.” She accompanied Pilsen to another room, where three more Justice Department agents waited. “These agents will conduct your preliminary debriefing, Mr. Pilsen. It will probably take about three hours. After that, we will accompany you to your home and attend to your family."

  Leo Pilsen sat down to cooperate with law enforcement officials for the first time in his life.

  * * * *

  Late that afternoon, four dark gray unmarked sedans, traveling in convoy, drove from the Lake Shore Drive apartment to Leo Pilsen's home in Northridge. Three of the vehicles were driven by Department of Justice plainclothes agents, all armed. In the lead car passenger seat was FBI Special Agent Fred Summar, with two agents in the rear seat. In the second car passenger seat rode Assistant U.S. Attorney Angela Domini, with Leo Pilsen and Dan Manley in the rear seat. In the third car passenger seat was Drug Enforcement Agent Leon Platt, with two DEA agents in the rear. The fourth car carried only FBI agents.

  At the Pilsen residence, two of the vehicles blocked off the circular drive in front of the house, and armed agents cleared and secure
d its perimeter. The two lead agents, with Angela Domini and Dan Manley, escorted Leo Pilsen inside. Three DOJ agents followed. Pilsen was met by his wife, Diane, and their younger daughter, Barbara.

  "We have to leave,” Pilsen said.

  "Leave?” Diane spread her hands out in bewilderment. “What do you mean, leave?"

  "We have to go with these federal agents, Diane. Don't ask questions. Just do as they say—"

  The three junior agents stepped forward and handed Diane and Barbara each two large black plastic Hefty trash bags. “You've got one hour, ma'am,” one of them said. “You can take whatever you can stuff in these bags, but no cell phones or other electronic devices. Nothing else except what you can put in these bags. Everything else stays."

  "But—but—I don't understand—” Diane blurted. Leo Pilsen stepped forward, took her by the shoulders, and shook her smartly. “Do as you're told, Diane! We've got to leave this place now—or we could be killed!” He turned to his younger daughter. “Fill one bag with your things and the other with your sister's things,” he instructed in a calmer voice. “Go ahead, honey. One of these young men will go with you.” Then he took one of the bags his wife held. “Come on, babe. I'll help you. Collect your jewelry first—"

  * * * *

  Two hours later, with several agents remaining in the house, Leo Pilsen, his wife, and his daughter were in the rear seat of one of the government cars, with Dan Manley in the passenger seat, and FBI Agent Fred Summar driving. There were only three cars now, moving in a loose convoy north on Interstate 94, through the Chicago suburbs of Evanston, Highland Park, and the outskirts of the city of Waukegan, then across the state line into Wisconsin.

  After riding in silence for a while, Leo Pilsen finally asked through dry lips, “Am I allowed to know where we're going?"

  "I can tell you that right now you're on your way to General Mitchell Airport south of Milwaukee,” Agent Summar told him. “You'll be turned over to a Witness Protection team there. That's as much as I know. My guess is that you'll be flown from there to a safe house in another city for your in-depth debriefing, which will take a month or so. Afterwards, you'll all be taken to your new permanent home somewhere."

  "What about our other daughter?” Diane Pilsen asked anxiously.

  "My understanding is that she is already at the airport. She was transferred there with a nurse and two agent escorts while we were at your home."

  "Thank God.” Diane put a protective arm around her younger daughter, who was crying softly beside her.

  After another period of silence, Pilsen reached forward and placed a hand on Dan Manley's shoulder. “Did I do the right thing, Danny?” he asked quietly.

  "You did the only thing, Leo. The only thing that would protect you and your family. Frank Carpenter wouldn't have let you live a month. Too risky. You know what a careful man he is."

  Sitting back, Leo Pilsen quietly nodded his head in agreement.

  When they reached the airport, agents from the two backup cars circulated into the main terminal for security, while the Pilsens were taken to a private Transportation Security Administration lounge and reunited with their elder daughter, Kate. There, Angela Domini and the Witness Protection team lead agent signed and exchanged documents to formally transfer custody of the family to WitPro.

  Dan Manley and Leo Pilsen took a moment to say goodbye. Despite the circumstances, Pilsen was able to force a tight smile.

  "Long way from West End Avenue, Danny."

  "Yeah. Long way, Leo."

  "We went through a lot of risky times as kids."

  "Yeah. It was a nervous way to live.” Manley extended his hand. “Make a new life for yourself and your family, Leo. This is your one chance to do it."

  "I'll try, Danny.” He shook Manley's hand.

  Then the two parted.

  * * * *

  One month after the turning of Leo Pilsen, a private luncheon hosted by the United States Department of Justice was held at the Peninsula Hotel just off the Chicago Loop. Attending were high-level representatives of the Chicago Police Department, the Federal Bureau of Investigation, the United States Drug Enforcement Agency, and several divisions of the Department of Justice itself. The speaker was a Deputy Assistant Attorney General of the United States.

  "Ladies and gentlemen,” the Deputy A.G. addressed the group, “welcome to this multi-agency awards luncheon, which has been convened to recognize an extraordinary example of cooperation among law enforcement personnel of various groups, which resulted in the resettling of a major organized crime figure, the identity of whom you all know.

  "During the past four weeks, at a safe house in Omaha, this subject has been thoroughly debriefed by the Department of Justice, numerous depositions have been taken from him, and a significant amount of intelligence obtained from those depositions has been distributed to interested departments in all participating agencies. I am able to tell you at this time that the debriefing of this subject has now been completed, and he and his family relocated to their new permanent home, with new identities, in another part of the country.

  "I am also able to tell you now that on the basis of the intelligence gathered, thirty-seven arrest warrants have been served on organized crime members in the Greater Chicago area, including a warrant on one Frank Carpenter, one of the commissioners of the Chicago Outfit, who, as I speak, has been taken into custody this morning and appeared before a federal magistrate where he was ordered held without bail on numerous charges, including nine counts of conspiracy to commit murder."

  A wave of applause flowed through the audience, after which the deputy called to the podium various representatives of the agencies involved in the operation, who in turn called up their agents and officers to receive recognition.

  Special Agent Fred Summar of the FBI received the bureau's Special Merit Award.

  Agent Leon Platt of the DEA was given the agency's Outstanding Enforcement Achievement Award.

  Assistant U.S. Attorney Angela Domini was presented with the Attorney General's High Esteem Award.

  And Chicago Police Lieutenant Daniel Manley, recently appointed to the Organized Crime Division of the Chicago P.D., was given the department's Outstanding Merit Award.

  Additionally, Special Achievement Scrolls were presented to Detectives Ralph Kenmare and Ned Garvan, Records Officer Grace Murphy, Laboratory Technician Patricia Woo, and Patrol Officers Dale Ives and John Provo.

  All in all, it was a convivial and enjoyable luncheon overflowing with the camaraderie of law-enforcement personnel celebrating a job of crime-stopping well done.

  When the luncheon was over, Dan Manley and FBI Agent Fred Summar walked to an underground parking lot together.

  "Who collared Frank Carpenter this morning?” Manley asked.

  "FBI,” said Summar. “Got him while he was eating breakfast with his wife in their home out in Elk Grove. Word I got just before I left the office was that he claimed he never heard of anybody named Leo Pilsen."

  "Gee,” said Manley, “you don't suppose you arrested an innocent man, do you, Fred?"

  "He's about as innocent as Al Capone was,” Summar said. “Say, what's the word on the young Kane girl?"

  "Fully recovered and back home. Dr. Duran says no permanent damage to her system in any way. I think she's learned her lesson too, as have all the other kids. They're all on probation, of course."

  The two men shook hands and parted. Before Manley got to his car, he ran into Grace Murphy going to hers.

  "Thanks for the kudos in there, Danny,” she said. “My name's been moved to the top of the promotion list."

  "Well deserved,” Manley said.

  She gave him a little peck on the cheek. “I'm glad we decided not to get together. Glenn and I are working out our differences. I think we're going to make it work."

  "That's good news, Gracie. I'm happy for you."

  * * * *

  Manley drove out to the West Side and parked his car for a few minutes at the edge o
f Garfield Park where West End Avenue began. The neighborhood had not changed much, except that most of the faces were black now. He thought of Leo Pilsen and the three other boys he had run with in the Dukes gang. As he had told Leo when they said goodbye, it had been a nervous way to live. Chicago was a hard city for street kids. Not too many survived. Dan Manley knew he was one of the lucky ones. Or maybe, as Leo had once said, one of the smart ones.

  Using his cell phone, he called a nurses’ station at Cook County Medical Center and got Dr. Luz Duran.

  "Dr. Duran, this is Lieutenant Manley, Chicago P.D. I have a physical problem I wonder if you could help me with."

  "Is it the same problem you've had for the past three weeks?” she asked in a low, smoky voice.

  "Yes. It seems to go away, then every time I think of you it comes back."

  "I see. It sounds to me like you need another treatment. How about a house call at eight tonight?"

  "Copy that,” Manley said. He was going to have to stop seeing so much of Fred Summar.

  After he and Luz Duran rang off, he started the car, tossed a final glance down West End Avenue, and drove away.

  Copyright © 2011 by Clark Howard

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  Fiction: SOMEONE LIKE YOU by Meenakshi Gigi Durham

  Meenakshi Gigi Durham says that her mystery fiction blends her Indian and American cultural experiences; and in this story, she also probes the emotional currents underlying aca-demic life. She is a former journalist who teaches journalism at the University of Iowa. She got her start as a fiction writer in our Department of First Stories in December of 2004, with the story “The Drum,” and appeared again in 2008 with a story about New Orleans, her husband's hometown, in the aftermath of Katrina.

  After it was all over—after the blood lay in brilliant crimson daubs on the new-fallen snow, after the crime-scene tape and the police and the inquest and the jostling reporters—Bernard would remember, with a pang, that it was he who had set the wheels in motion, inadvertently, yet inexorably, that miserable midwinter night. Perhaps he was really the one to blame for that hideous death. He kept this to himself, of course, but he thought about it every now and then for years afterward, wondering if things might have been different, if death would not have been the vile outcome, had he never called Callie that night.