The Last Crusade: A Harry Cassidy Novel Page 28

  “Thanks, Dan. Maybe you shouldn’t have praised me so much at your interview.”

  “Only told the truth.”

  “All is not lost; there is a silver lining here. I want you to be my first deputy. I think we’ll be a great team. What do you say?”

  “I say, wonderful. I’d love to work with you.”

  “Good, that’s settled. Now here’s what I need from you. I want to hit the ground running. Make a list of your recommendations for the top spots in the Department. We’ll need a new chief of department. Make that recommendation a priority. Then work on the three-star chiefs and down the line. I’d like to set all the top positions within two weeks.”

  “I’ll get on it immediately,” he said. “What about McKenna?”

  “I will handle the RFF personally.”

  Dan smiled and said, “I wish I could witness that meeting.”

  Two days before he took office, the mayor-elect had informed the present police commissioner, and his first deputy, their services would no longer be needed. He said he would appreciate it if they would clean out their offices, and be gone by the close of business, December 31. Harry took the oath of office early on the morning on January 2, in a private ceremony. There would be a press conference that afternoon with a public swearing in of him and the new fire commissioner. Harry walked from City Hall to One Police Plaza and showed his new shield to the officer on duty at the reception desk. “I’m Harry Cassidy, the new PC. Can you take my photo ID now?”

  “Yes, sir,” he said, getting to his feet. “Right away, sir.”

  With his credentials and shield in hand, Harry took the elevator up and got off at the fourteenth floor, the administrative pinnacle of power of the NYMPD. He walked down the hall past the closed doors of the chief of department and the first deputy police commissioner, and opened the door that said, “Police Commissioner Frank L. Schrader.”

  The receptionist at the desk, a female detective in uniform, asked, “Can I help you, sir?”

  He showed her his shield and ID and said, “I’m the new boss. Is my chief aide in?”

  “Yes, sir,” she said nervously.

  “What’s his name?”

  “Inspector Charles Carson.”

  Harry remembered having met him and said, “Have him come out here, please.”

  Carson came right out, and Harry re-introduced himself. He knew Carson had to be on his best behavior; after all he was the former PC’s guy. And Harry knew, if Carson were able to switch allegiances smoothly, he could be his guy, too.

  “Good to see you again, Commissioner,” Carson said.

  “Let’s go inside, Inspector. I’d like to meet the rest of my staff.”

  After Harry shook hands with the numerous secretaries and aides, he went into his office. And there it was—the famous desk used by Teddy Roosevelt when he was police commissioner. He stood in awe and silence for a moment then said to Carson. “Inspector, I want you to type up a brief order for me, but first bring me a list of all the precincts lacking an executive officer at this time.”

  “Yes, sir,” he said and returned within five minutes with the list and a memo pad. He gave the list to Harry, and stood with his pad open and pen in hand.

  “You can sit down. Relax. Is Charlie, okay?”

  “Charlie is fine, sir.”

  Harry scanned the list and smiled. Lucky on his first day. A good sign.

  When Harry finished dictating the order he said, “Charlie, I want you to personally type this order. Let no one see it, and then bring it directly to me when you’re finished.”

  “Yes, sir. It will only take me a few minutes. Can I have someone bring you coffee?”

  “Yes. Milk, no sugar.”

  A sergeant brought his coffee in within a minute, and Carson followed three minutes later with the order. Harry read it and reached for his pen. There were no mistakes to be found.

  “Nice work, Charlie. That was your first test, and you passed it fine. Your second test will be a lot tougher. Tell me, what do you think of Chief McKenna?”

  “I read and typed your order demoting him, so I’d be foolish to say I like him, even if I do. I certainly wouldn’t want to piss off my new boss on his first day on the job.”

  “I appreciate your candor, Charlie. So…?”

  “I think the red-faced fuck is a phony, pompous, asshole and has been a huge detriment to the NYMPD.”

  “Right on, Charlie. We are in total agreement. Please call him, and tell him the new PC wants to see him forthwith.”

  “Yes, sir,” Carson said with a broad smile on his face. “Right away, sir.”

  Carson had not told Chief McKenna who the new commissioner was despite his threats. “I’m under orders from the new PC, Chief,” he said. “I’m sure you understand.”

  Carson knocked on Harry’s door and poked his head in. “He’s on his way, sir, and I refused to tell him your name. He might have a heart attack when he sees you seated behind that desk. I hope I wasn’t out of bounds, sir.”

  “Goddamn, Charlie, I like your style. I should have thought of that myself. Good call.”

  Carson shut the door and Harry waited—waited for the moment he never thought would ever, could ever, arrive. Four minutes passed, and there was a knock on his door.

  “Come in,” he said.

  The door opened and McKenna walked in, chest puffed out, jacket buttoned, the four stars of his rank gleaming on each shoulder. He recognized Harry immediately, and the color drained from his normally florid face. “Cassidy! What are you doing…?”

  “Sit down and shut up, Francis. It’s Commissioner Cassidy now. I’m your new boss.”

  “I don’t believe it.”

  “Here’s my shield and ID,” he said, pushing them to within an inch of McKenna’s face. “I was sworn in by Mayor MacDonald two hours ago. Believe it now?”

  McKenna said nothing, so Harry continued. “As of nine o’clock you are no longer the chief of department. You are now Captain McKenna. Here’s a copy of my order demoting you, and assigning you as the executive officer of the One-Oh-Three precinct in Staten Island. I’m sure you know how to find it—you were excellent with directions to Staten Island.”

  “I’ll get you for this,” McKenna said, the color rising back into his face. “I’ll…”

  “No, Francis you won’t get me, or anyone else, ever again. Your reign of terror is over. You’re through, you piece of shit.”

  Harry pressed a button on his phone and Carson came into the office. “Inspector, I’d like you to personally escort Captain McKenna to the Property Bureau so he can obtain the appropriate shield and insignia for his new rank. Then assign someone to drive him home and return his departmental vehicle back here. And if the newly demoted captain wishes to stop at the Pension Bureau, please escort him there also.”

  “Yes, Commissioner,” Carson said.

  “You’re dismissed, Captain, but there’s one more thing I’d like you to take with you as you leave here. If you hadn’t been such a rotten son-of-a-bitch, I’d still be wearing eagles, and you could have been sitting here at this desk right now. Think about that. Think about that often. Think about that for the rest of your miserable life. Get him out of here, Charlie.”

  Susan was already at city hall when Harry arrived, and she said, “I’m starting to believe it’s true.”

  “It’s true, all right. I’ve already performed two official acts—promoted Dan Snyder to be my first deputy, and banished Captain McKenna into oblivion.”

  “The RFF is history?”

  “Ancient history, my dear.”

  After the swearing in session Harry spoke to the assembled reporters. He introduced Susan and Dan, and took several soft ball questions. In response to a question from a Daily News reporter concerning how many of the top brass would be forced out, he said, “All top commanders will be thoroughly evaluated, and then those decisions will be made. The current Chief of Department, Francis X. McKenna, has informed me of his decisio
n to retire, and I hope to have a replacement named for him shortly.”

  Harry told Dan to go celebrate with his family and to be ready to roll on Monday morning. Susan asked if she could return with him and see his new office. “I’ve always wanted to see Roosevelt’s desk,” she said.

  “Sure,” he said, “let’s go.”

  After she inspected the spacious office, she hugged him and kissed him and said, “Now, Commissioner, I finally believe it.”

  By the end of that first week the new chief of department and all the top three-star positions had been decided, and Harry was sitting in Dan’s office late Friday afternoon. “We accomplished a lot this week,” he said.

  “Yes, we did. What’s next on the agenda?”

  “I want to set up a meeting with Walt Kobak. He called me yesterday and told me he is not happy with the guy McKenna assigned to him.”

  “Surprise, surprise.”

  “And speaking of Walt, I want to set up a little party—a reception—for all the guys who were responsible for putting me in this seat. That means you, Don Campbell, John McKee, Pop Hunter, Nick Faliani—all the JTTF guys and gals—a lot of cops in the Six-Four, the Nine-Five and Midtown South; a lot of dicks in the DA’s squad, and the guys from Sheldrake.”

  “That will be a sizable crowd.”

  “I’ll have Carson set it up for next Friday afternoon, and we’ll have it here and catered. No public money—I’m picking up the tab personally.”

  “A grand party to celebrate the new commissioner. I like that.”

  “Not a celebration for me, Dan. I just want to let these guys know how much I owe them, I haven’t forgotten them, and I will never forget them.”

  “I like that better,” he said.

  Harry and Dan met with Walt Kobak on Tuesday, and they promised to find an inspector to his liking to replace McKenna’s appointee. “He kept sending me these flunky administrative types. I need a guy with street smarts and balls, as you were,” Walt said.

  “Were?”

  “Now that you’re sitting up here in your ivory tower at One Police Plaza, you may be a little out of touch with what the hell is going on out there.”

  “That’s why I invited you over here, Mr. Kobak. Please enlighten us with the real world situation, if you would be so kind.”

  Walt finished his recitation and Harry shook his head. “You sure know how to ruin a person’s day. Now we have eco-terrorists groups slinking around and starting to make threats of violence. Do they have designs on our fair city?”

  “Most likely, and maybe the whole country—and things may happen soon.”

  “Do you have sufficient time to attend my little reunion this Friday? You and the guys are coming over, aren’t you?”

  “We wouldn’t miss it for the world. The environmental wackos can wait until Saturday.”

  The party went off as scheduled, and Harry was delighted to see all his old friends who had meant so much to him and his career. The food was excellent, and the liquor flowed freely. After two hours, a demand arose for the new PC to say a few words. Harry protested, but the raucous group would not be put off. He stood up and said, “I didn’t invite you all here to listen to a speech, but to thank you for all the good things you did for me, and taught me, over the years. As I mentioned to Dan Snyder last week, I wanted you to know I haven’t forgotten you, nor will I ever forget you. Let me raise my glass and drink to you, my friends. To you all—thanks for being there when I needed you.”

  When the party broke up it was after ten, and Harry said to Dan, “You know I’ve been thinking about what Walt said and I always had an idea in the back of my head.”

  “About what?”

  “About staying in touch with the guys on the street. I think a lot of us in the ivory tower here at One Police Plaza need to get off our asses, and get out there and talk to the cops and dicks that do the street work. Find out what’s going on, and what the problems are.”

  “I agree. Do you want to bring that up at our next staff meeting?”

  “Yes, but first I’m going to make a visit myself, so I can tell the staff my impressions. Monday, I’m going to tour the Nine-Five precinct.”

  “Your first precinct, and my first uniformed command. I’d like to go with you.”

  “I’d love to have you. Let’s meet here at eight, and we’ll head out there.”

  “Do you want the precinct CO to know we’re coming?”

  “Sure, we’ll call him on the way. We don’t want him to have a heart attack if we show up unannounced. Hey, we can have a cheeseburger at the Viceroy Diner, and say hello to Teddy Stavros.”

  “Just like old times,” Dan said.

  They got to the Nine-Five precinct before nine, and decided to stop for coffee at the Viceroy. Teddy spotted them immediately and congratulated them on their appointments. “I read it in the papers,” he said. “We are all proud of both of you. What brings you to my humble restaurant?”

  “Just a visit to our old precinct,” Harry said, “and a visit to an old friend. You know you now have friends in high places.”

  “I’m flattered, Commissioners. What can I get you?”

  “I’ll just have coffee and a bagel,” Dan said.

  “Me, too,” Harry said, “but we’ll be back for lunch, and you know what I want then.”

  “Surely, now you’re the police commissioner, surely you’re going to eat something better than a cheeseburger?”

  “Officer Cassidy will have the bacon cheeseburger with fries and slaw, just as I did in the good old days,” Harry said as Teddy shook his head in dismay.

  After they left the diner, they drove to Harry’s former foot post and they saw the beat cop on Hempstead Avenue near 18th Street. “Drop me off here, Dan. I’m going to walk the beat with this officer for awhile. Go find a couple of radio car cops to ride around with and get the lowdown from them.”

  Harry approached the officer and said, after noting his nameplate, “Good morning, Officer Kaminski.”

  “Good morning. May I help you with something?”

  “Yes, I’d like to get your opinion on a few things. I’m the new commissioner.”

  Kaminski’s eyes narrowed and he said, “Commissioner of what?”

  “The NYMPD. I’m Police Commissioner Harry Cassidy.”

  “No kidding? I thought Donaldson was the PC, or was it Schrader?”

  “No, they’re both gone,” Harry said realizing Kaminski seemed unaware Frank Schrader came after Donaldson.

  “You got some identification? A shield?”

  Harry handed his shield case to Kaminski who inspected it and said, “I guess you’re for real, but why are you here talking to me?”

  “Do you know the name of your commanding officer?”

  “Sure, Captain Middleton.”

  “How about his boss, the boro commander?”

  “No, I don’t know him.”

  “That’s one reason I’m here. That’s going to change. I plan to have the brass out here to find out what’s going on, and how they can help make your job easier.”

  “That’ll be a first. Oh, I’m sorry, sir.”

  “Relax, Kaminski. Let’s take a walk.”

  They turned down the street and walked past the Bird’s Nest Bar. “That place ever give you any trouble?” Harry asked.

  “Nah, just a quiet local joint.”

  “It wasn’t always that way.”

  “How do you know that? Did you live around here?”

  “No, this was my beat. For over ten years this was my corner of the world.”

  “You were a beat cop for ten years?”

  “Best job I ever had. Now, beat cop to beat cop, I want some information…”

  After he finished with Kaminski and met up with Snyder, they drove to the south side of the precinct and split up again. By one o’clock, they had spoken to a dozen cops, and it was time for lunch back at the Viceroy. Harry finally let Teddy serve him his special Roumanian steak with potatoes au gra
tin, and a generous side of coleslaw. Dan Snyder had the meatloaf special, and they both ate with gusto under the watchful eye of the proud owner. “Tell me, Harry,” Teddy said, “wasn’t that much better than your usual cheeseburger?”

  “It was delicious,” Harry said, not wanting to tell his old friend nothing was better than his good old standard, medium-rare, bacon cheeseburger.

  “Just as I have been telling you all these years. You have made me a happy man today.”

  “I’m happy you’re finally happy, Teddy. We have to get going now.”

  “Goodbye, Commissioners—and come back soon.”

  They spoke at length with Captain Middleton about what they had found, and what their plans were. He heartily agreed with their assessment. After they left the captain’s office, they decided to stop in at the detective squad to say hello. An ancient gray-haired detective sat at the reception desk working at a computer terminal. “Can I help you gents?” he asked.

  “I’m Harry Cassidy, and this is Dan Snyder. We used to work here.”

  The detective thought for a moment and said, “Sure, Snyder, you were the boss here a long time ago. I’m Jack Stenson. Been up here in the squad over twenty years now. What did you say your name was?” he asked, looking at Harry.

  “Cassidy. Harry Cassidy. I walked the beat in Elmont, near the Queens border. You used to drive a radio car in Valley Stream.”

  “Sure, now I remember you. Where are you guys working now?” he asked as he stood up and tucked a New York Post under his arm.

  “I’m the new PC, and Dan is my first deputy.”

  “Ha-ha, very funny,” he said. “That’s a good one. Stop breaking my balls. I got more important things to do, like take a good shit. Commissioners! You guys are something else.”

  With that, Detective Stenson, shaking his head and laughing loudly, walked down the hall toward the bathroom.

  “That old hair-bag sure puts things in perspective,” Dan said.

  “He definitely let us know what’s important to him. Let’s get out of here while the getting’s good, and compare notes on the way home. But if you heard what I heard, we have a long, tough road ahead.”