Legacy and Redemption (31 page)

He instantly recognized Ahmed Hatif as the man with the gun in his hand as Galvin’s view was no longer obstructed. Hatif put the gun to Castillo’s head as Castillo attempted to rise. The sound of the fatal gunshot resonated instant horror with Galvin as he observed Castillo slump lifelessly back to the ground—he was seconds too late. Galvin took his center of attention off Castillo and raised his gun to eye level.

Sharon Castillo shut off the vacuum, pressed the cord retractor button, and returned the vacuum to the closet. A final inspection of the house revealed everything to be in order. A quick dash up the stairs later and she knocked on the door of Jessica’s bedroom.

“Come in.”

Sharon Castillo shook her head as her daughter’s room was a mess. “I certainly hope your dorm’s a lot neater than this. If it’s not, you must have some very unhappy roommates.”

Jessica Castillo rolled over and looked at the alarm clock on the nightstand to the left of the bed. It read 11:45. “What do you want, mom?”

“Well for starters, it would be nice if you cleaned your room before the guests arrived tonight.”

“It’s not like anyone’s coming into my room, mom,” she protested.

“I don’t care, Jess. It needs to be cleaned.”

Jessica kicked off her comforter, exposing her purple fleece pajamas and sat up in bed. She reached for her oversized black framed glasses and then for a hair tie from the desk. After placing the hair tie around her wrist, she grabbed her long black hair and made a ponytail. She captured her hair with the hair tie and got out of bed. “No problem, mom. I’ll clean now before I take a shower.”

“Thank you, sweetheart. I have to pick up grandma and grandpa at the airport at one-thirty. If you’re finished cleaning your room and showering before I have to leave, it would be nice if you came with me to greet them when they get off the plane.”

“I’ll come, mom. It’ll be worth it to see the look on Grandpa’s face when he sees how cold it is outside. He never leaves Florida in the winter time.”

Sharon laughed as she reflected on how much her father-in-law hated the cold weather. “You’re right about that, Jess.”

“Can I drive to the airport?”

“Yeah, you can drive.” Sharon swung an arm at a wide berth into the bedroom before continuing, “But you’re not coming unless this room is spotless first. We have to leave in about an hour so hurry up.”

“Don’t worry, I will.”

As Sharon turned to leave, Jess continued, “Do you think daddy knows?”

She shook her head adamantly. “He has no idea, Jess. Trust me. I’d know.”

Sharon closed the door and walked into her bedroom. She shed her sweats and tee shirt, placed them on the bed, and stepped into the master bathroom. She turned on the shower and adjusted the water to her liking. She picked up her clothes from the bed and discarded them into the wicker hamper in the tan tiled bathroom. She brushed her teeth and looked at herself hard in the mirror. She and Louie had both been aging gracefully, she concluded. When she was done brushing her teeth, she noticed a dab of the blue toothpaste standing out against the white vanity. She wiped it up with her finger and rinsed it down the drain.

Sharon stood on the white plush floor mat and stuck a hand into the shower. It was hot but not too hot. It was just the way she liked it. She stepped inside, drew the shower curtain, and let the water hit her in the face. She turned around, allowing the water to massage her back as she noticed the bathroom begin to fill with steam. It felt good. Sharon could feel the tension let loose from her body.

Sharon took the moment of solace to think about the night ahead. Picking up Louie’s parents from the airport was really the only thing that could possibly go wrong. If their flight was delayed, and Louie got home before she did with his parents, it would ruin the surprise. Other than that, everything seemed to be right according to plan.

Louie was expecting a New Year’s Eve party, so the cleaning and preparing for guests was not unusual. They went out for dinner with friends every New Year’s Eve as well. The dinner reservations were at six and on the invitations, she had asked that the guests for the surprise retirement party arrive at seven. The Castillo’s next door neighbors and close friends, Michelle and Dan, would be here by six-thirty to allow the guests in.

Sharon had told Louie that Michelle and Dan wouldn’t be able to come to the New Year’s Eve party because they were hosting a party of their own. Sharon was particularly proud of that lie because it would explain all of the extra cars on the block when they returned home from dinner. With over fifty guests, there really was no place to hide the cars without asking people to walk a long distance in sub freezing weather. The next best option was to offer a pre emptive explanation as to why they were there in the first place. She smiled to herself.

Sharon stepped from the shower and dried off. She wrapped a towel around her torso and selected a pair of jeans and a red fleece pullover to wear. Just as Sharon finished dressing, Jessica emerged from her bedroom. “Please don’t try to tell me that you’re done cleaning already, Jess.”

“I am.” Jessica Castillo pushed open her door for inspection.

Sharon placed her hands on her hips and tilted her head to one side. “What did you do, throw all of your clothes into the closet and force it closed?”

Jessica smiled. “No mom, I put it in the hamper. Now can I take a shower so I can come with you to pick up grandma and grandpa?”

Sharon begrudgingly agreed.

“Hey mom, where are grandma and grandpa hiding when they get here. If dad sees them, he’s going to know something’s up. He
is
a detective, you know.”

“Yes smartass, I know that your dad’s a detective. Grandma and grandpa are going to stay with Michelle and Dan next door until we leave for dinner.”

Suddenly the doorbell rang. Not expecting anybody, Sharon peeked out of the second floor bedroom of her daughter.

“Oh my God!”

A look of fright consumed Jessica Castillo as she knew there was something very wrong from her mother’s reaction. “What is it, mom? Who’s at the door?”

“Oh my God…No,” she repeated.

“Mom?” Jessica Castillo nudged her way to the window to look outside. There were two men standing there. One she recognized as her dad’s partner, Frank Balentine. The other man she did not recognize. Jessica didn’t quite understand what was going on or why her mother seemed to be so upset, but she knew enough to know something was wrong. Putting her fears aside and hoping for a simple explanation, Jessica continued to prod. “Are they here early for the party, or were they supposed to bring you something?”

In her heart, Jessica knew the answer was no, but until her mother said so, she held out hope. Sharon turned to her daughter and took her by the shoulders. “Stay here, sweetie. I’ll be right back.”

There was a tear in her mother’s eye and her false reassurance had the opposite effect on Jessica; it made her concern grow tenfold. Sharon offered a forced smile and went downstairs.

Sharon Castillo was not just a cop’s wife; she was also a retired twenty-three year veteran of the NYPD. As soon as she saw Frank Balentine and Inspector John Talbot at her front door she knew it was bad. She didn’t have the luxury of ignorance that others did. The only question in her mind was how bad it was? She wondered what she would do if it
were
the worst case scenario.

She tried to reassure herself as stood briefly at the top of the stairs.
No! Everything is okay. I just spoke to Louie about an hour ago. Everything is fine; it has to be.

But in her heart—the heart of a cop—she knew otherwise instinctively. Sharon walked slowly down the stairs trying to regain her composure. She paused at the front door and placed a hand on the door knob. Before she would open it, she drew a deep breath and unconsciously held it. When she finally opened the door, she saw the look on the two men’s faces she exhaled, knowing that it was bad—real bad.

She wanted to be a cop again for just those few minutes. The cop in her would have a thick skin and remain clinical no matter what she was told. But she was no longer a cop; right now she was a cop’s wife. From the moment that she saw the men at the door, her mind took over. She immediately pathologized their presence, knowing what other cop’s wives may not know until they were told.

In his two plus decades as a member of the New York City Police Department, this was not the first time that Inspector John Talbot had to deliver bad news to the family member of a New York City Police Officer. Still, the circumstances this time were different. He’d never before had to tell the family member of an officer that they had been killed, or seriously injured, during their final tour before retirement. There was something especially cruel about that.

Talbot stood hat in hand as Sharon Castillo searched both his eyes and Frank Balentine’s before either man had the chance to speak. Balentine, who had known Sharon Castillo almost as long as Louie Castillo did, reached out with both hands taking Sharon’s shoulders in his hands before breaking the news.

Jessica Castillo knew something was seriously wrong from her mother’s reaction to the guests. She did as instructed and waited upstairs for her mother, but she did her best to watch the encounter from the top of the staircase. She saw Frank Balentine take her mother by the shoulders and her mouth suddenly went dry. Her heart began to race as she did her best to read Balentine’s lips.

She was able to lip read no more than “Sharon, it’s about Louie.”

With that, she saw her mother throw herself into Balentine’s arms for a tight embrace. Jessica Castillo erupted into tears and she charged down the stairs.

“Is daddy okay!? What happened?”

The two men sat in silence in the waiting room. Much like any other city agency’s waiting area, this one lacked the amenities or charismatic touch that smaller agencies often had. The gray industrial carpet and the commercial type black chairs were similar to what Keegan had seen in the King’s County District Attorney’s Office on the times when he’d gone to court. As the New York City Office of the Chief Medical Examiner was another city agency, the choice in décor didn’t come as a surprise to Keegan.

Keegan was the first to break the silence. “Sarge, I have a question. We were taught in the Academy that when we had to go to the morgue to identify a body, we would go to the county of occurrence. This is the second time now that I’ve had to go to the Manhattan ME’s office, yet both incidents took place in Brooklyn.”

Galvin would take the time to explain. “Tim, the overwhelming majority of the time you’ll go to Kings County Hospital in Brooklyn to make the ID, as long as you work in Brooklyn. You’re right; each county has their own office. However, in cases where a cop gets killed or a cop kills someone, the bodies are always taken to the Manhattan office so the Chief Medical Examiner can oversee things.” Galvin considered his answer and then added to it. “I guess that would apply for any high profile cases as well. Downtown doesn’t want anybody being able to second guess the results of the autopsy or the ME’s findings. The Chief Medical Examiner is the
Chief
for a reason. He’s presumably the best one in the city, so he personally oversees all of the real big cases...and they don’t get much bigger than this.”

Keegan nodded, signaling that he accepted the answer. He stood up and nervously paced the floor. Galvin sat and thumbed through a three day old newspaper left behind on a corner table. Although this was an emotional time for both men, Galvin seemed to be more detached than Keegan; perhaps his time on the job and experience were the reasons why. Galvin looked up at Keegan as he worked the floor of the small waiting room. “Are you sure you want to come in with me while I ID the body?” After a short pause where Keegan had hesitated, Galvin continued. “You really don’t have to. Procedurally, you shouldn’t even be here; you know that. After all, I was the first officer on the scene after he was shot. And in truth, this is one of those times where it hits close to home, especially for you.”

“Thanks, Sarge, but I really
want
to be here—I feel that I need to be—for closure.” Keegan sat down across from Galvin. He inched his chair forward and leaned in. “I still can’t believe that you were right across the street when the shot was fired.”

Galvin shook his head. “Neither can I; that bakery truck obstructed my view or I would’ve seen Hatif much sooner. There’s no doubt in my mind that I would have been able to kill Hatif before he would’ve been able to hurt Louie.” Galvin shook his head before he added, “I just couldn’t get across the traffic fast enough when I finally saw what was happening.”

The interior door swung open, cutting the conversation short. A tall man in his late fifties emerged. He was easily over six feet tall and on the slender side. His loosely curled gray hair was both far receding and unkempt. Under his white lab coat, he wore a light blue button down shirt accented with a yellow bow tie and a pair of navy blue Dockers. As the man drew closer, Keegan was able to read the blue scripted lettering above the left breast pocket of the man’s lab coat;

Chief Medical Examiner

Dr. George Kessel

The man paused in front of the officers and peeked through the bottom half on his bifocal lenses at the clipboard in his hand. He looked both Keegan and Galvin in the eyes before settling on Galvin. “My name is Doctor Kessel. Would you be Sergeant Galvin?”

Keegan and Galvin rose to meet the man. Galvin offered the man his hand as he introduced himself. “This is one of my rookie officers,” explained Galvin—intentionally omitting Keegan’s name. As the two men were still temporarily assigned to the Joint Terrorist Task Force, they were both dressed in business attire. There was no name tag for the ME to read and Galvin didn’t feel the need to disclose Keegan’s identity with the man. “I hope you don’t mind if he comes inside for the ID.”

“Not at all.” Keegan mentally noted the hint of a German accent as the man spoke. “Follow me.”

They did. Keegan could feel coldness as they left the waiting room and entered the area where the ID was to be made. The coldness was not just in actual temperature, but in feeling as well. The drab tan walls and stainless steel equipment all around them seemed unsettling to Keegan. There was an offensive smell in the air; it was somewhat metallic in nature and Keegan guessed it to be formaldehyde. He wondered how many times he’d have to come to the morgue before he’d get used to it. Even the sound of his Sergeant’s dress shoes echoing off the beige tiled floors reminded Keegan of a bad horror movie.

How can anyone work in a place like this? It’s creepy.

As they walked deeper into the room, Keegan stole a look into the window of the door into the adjacent room. There was row upon row of stainless steel drawers, presumably to Keegan, where the dead were stored until they were claimed by family or otherwise disposed of. Keegan momentarily wondered if those who remained unclaimed were buried in a potter’s field or simply cremated.

His speculation was short lived as he could see the body waiting to be identified as it lay on a stainless steel gurney. It was covered by a white sheet except for the feet which were exposed. He noted a toe tag—or a
95 tag
—as it was known in the NYPD, fastened around the big toe on the left foot. At the head end of the gurney was a stainless steel sink and wash basin. Next to the gurney was a matching stainless steel rolling table with an assortment of tools on top. Keegan observed a small hand held circular saw which momentarily galvanized him as he contemplated its use.

The Medical Examiner reached into a white box of rubber gloves that lay on the rolling cart. He yanked out a pair of blue gloves and stretched them over his hands; he wiggled his fingers as he did, ensuring a proper fit. Dr. Kessel grabbed the end of the sheet and slowly pulled it down exposing the violent death the man had endured.

A sudden wave of emotions crashed over Keegan’s body. He felt his heart beat a bit faster against his chest and a feeling of anxiety which he’d never before experienced had become evident to him. Galvin looked down at the body and then over at Keegan. Galvin placed a comforting hand on Keegan’s shoulder and was quick to announce, “Yeah, that’s him.”

Dr. Kessel was clearly satisfied and began to once again cover the body when Keegan spoke. “No, wait.” Keegan held a hand out towards Kessel who looked first at Keegan and then Galvin in confusion.

Kessel lowered the sheet and settled it on the corpse’s chest. “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” seeming to suddenly understand Keegan’s request.

Keegan didn’t dispute the identification, but he wasn’t done looking. The first thing that caught Keegan’s eye was the dark coagulated blood throughout the hair. The large caliber bullet had shattered the skull. Keegan could see both skull fragments and brain matter mixing in with the hair. The skull fragments somewhat blended, but the light grey brain matter clashed with the jet black hair. Keegan fixated on the bullet hole on the back left side of the head. He stared at the wound, not even knowing himself the reason why it had captivated him.

Keegan felt a little queasy. It wasn’t so much at the site of the dead body, but Keegan began to speculate on how many autopsies there would have been around the country had they not stopped the terrorists. Even at the scene of the shooting, things could have been much worse. Aside from Castillo, Balentine and an entire team of Crime Scene Detectives were present. It was a minor miracle that nobody other than Louie had been killed or hurt by the terrorist.

Keegan began to think about Louie Castillo. Castillo had been a police officer serving New York City for nearly three decades. By his own words, Castillo had even crossed paths with Keegan’s dad many years ago. To have something like this happen on your last day before retirement was unimaginable. Yet, this was exactly the reason why it had been explained to Keegan that cops routinely didn’t go out on patrol on their last night. Staying inside a precinct, or another police facility, took away tragic ironies from happening altogether. Still, Keegan realized that in this instance, the detective…and the case, were anything but routine. The good news, of course, was that the terrorists were now all accounted for and all of the explosives were recovered. Unfortunately, the successful close to the case came with a price. One that Detective First Grade Louis Castillo had to pay.

Keegan realized that he must have looked sick to his stomach. Galvin inquired, “Are you okay, Tim?”

Keegan looked back at Galvin and after a deep breath, “Yeah, I’m fine Sarge.”

Keegan grabbed the sheet and slowly drew them up over the head. He drew another deep breath and looked at his supervisor. “I’m ready to go back to the office, Sarge.”

“Good. Let’s get back so I can
bang out
the paperwork.

The two men walked back towards the door when Doctor Kessel called out. “Sergeant Galvin, may I have a word with you in my office?”

“Sure.” Galvin reached his hands into his pants pocket and produced a set of keys for the department auto parked along First Avenue in front of the Medical Examiner’s Office. He handed them to Keegan. “I’ll meet you in the car.”

Galvin gave Keegan a pat on the back as they parted ways.

Keegan recognized that as a young police officer, he was lucky to have a supervisor such as Sergeant Galvin to teach and mentor him. He got the sense from Galvin that he had taken a special interest in his career. Not to say that Galvin didn’t care about all of his rookies, but Keegan felt that there seemed to be some sort of bond between the two of them. Maybe it was the notorious incidents in which they shared; most notably the suicide bomber and the taking down of the terrorist cell. Whatever the reason, Keegan knew he was indeed lucky.

Keegan stepped outside on the brisk New Year’s Day morning. He glanced up to see the sun low in the sky over a beautiful Manhattan skyline. Keegan understood that his transfer back to Brooklyn’s
Six-Seven
precinct would be coming down any day. He also realized that the JTTF was almost certain to retain Galvin. While he knew that he would be sad to have lost his mentor after such a short period of time, he was grateful for the time that Galvin had taken to start molding Keegan into the cop that he was becoming.

Doctor Kessel was waiting for Galvin at the entrance of his office. He was red in the face and Tommy Galvin already knew why. Kessel motioned Galvin inside the office and then closed the door. Kessel spoke in a voice just above a whisper. “That was Officer Keegan in there with you, wasn’t it?”

In Galvin’s mind there was no sense in denying it. “Yes, it was.”

Kessel flung his clipboard down on top of his desk. It skidded to a halt crossing the edge. He began the lecture. “Sergeant, I’m sure you know better than that. Keegan shouldn’t have been in there with you.” Kessel moved behind his desk and had a seat. The lack of invitation for Galvin to take a seat was not coincidental nor did it go unnoticed by Galvin. “I’m not going to have you, or anyone else, jeopardize the integrity of my cases by clearly violating policy. Sergeant Galvin, as the…”

Galvin held out a hand to settle the Medical Examiner down before he interrupted. “Doctor Kessel, with all due respect, Keegan being present can’t jeopardize the case. There is no case to case to jeopardize; the perp is dead.”

“Obviously!” Kessel shot back. “That still doesn’t give you the right to undermine the system.”

Galvin nodded. “Look, I’m sorry.” He motioned toward the empty chairs in front of Kessel’s desk. “Do you mind if I take a seat?”

Kessel shook his head. “No, go ahead.” Galvin could sense that the man’s disposition had softened just a bit after the apology; now for the explanation.

“Doc, Tim’s gone through a lot over the last few months…”

It was now Kessel’s turn to interrupt. “Yes, I
do
read the newspapers Sergeant.”

“Well then you know that since the week of Thanksgiving, Officer Keegan has been involved in a couple of very high profile cases. The press keeps comparing him to his father. It hasn’t been easy on him. They even wrote about him before he ever walked his first foot post; the pressure to follow in the giant footsteps of his father is quite encumbering. It’s taking a toll on him, but so far he’s living up to expectations—if not exceeding them. If there ever was such thing as a true legacy in the New York City Police Department, Timothy Keegan is it.”

Kessel seemed to be taking in what Galvin was saying. They sat momentarily in silence as Kessel relocated a pile of folders from one side of his desk to the other. Galvin scanned the doctor’s many degrees as they hung on the wall during the void in the conversation. He learned Kessel had graduated from Johns Hopkins medical school back in 1981—the same year that Galvin was born.

Galvin pressed on. “Honestly, Doctor Kessel, I didn’t mean to put you in a bad position. That’s why I never introduced you to him. I would never do such a thing on a case that had a chance of seeing the inside of a courtroom. It’s just that Keegan has gone through so much in such a short period of time that I didn’t think it would be a big deal. He really wanted to be here, so in my judgment, I didn’t feel it would be an issue. I shouldn’t have brought Keegan here with me without asking your permission first.”