New York Chief of Detectives (7 page)

“I’m about tired of hearing about that damn rabbit.”

As Dickie pulled into One Police Plaza, he could see that the flags were at half mast in honor of Tony.  Pat felt his eyes starting to well up with tears.

“It kind of gets you seeing those flags, doesn’t it?”

“It’s kind of like the wall inside the building with all those names on it. Our job is to keep our names off of that board.”

“It’s also our job to find the perps responsible for putting them there, and I don’t feel so good about this one.” 

“I’m betting on the rabbit.”

Pat walked into the office and was met by Bryan Flannery.

“We’ll have a small crew manning the phones during the funeral to make sure we don’t miss anything, Chief, but most of the guys are in their dress blues today.”

“I understand, Bryan. I want them to be there. By the way, I have to speak at the funeral, and I haven’t written the first thing.”

“I’m not worried, boss, because whatever you say will be from the heart.” 

“Thanks, but, it’ll still be tough.”

At about 1130 Hours, Dickie Davis walked in the office.

“I’ve had the car detailed, Chief, and it’s spotless. We probably need to leave soon, because there’ll be a huge turnout.”

“I’ll be ready in five minutes. I want to hit the head, because there’s gonna be several thousand cops with no place to take a leak.” 

“Good point. I probably shouldn’t have had that last cup of coffee.”

Dickie rounded the corner in front of the cathedral. Shiny white NYPD RMP’s were already triple-parked in front of the church. Pat recognized the Police Commissioner’s car in front. He was quickly recognized by the motorcycle officer who respectfully saluted him and directed him to a spot near the front of the church. Pat returned the salute, and Dickie parked the car. Pat stepped out of the car and put his uniform hat on, with all its gold piping and scrambled eggs on the brim.   

Commissioner Longstreet motioned for Pat to come over.

“Hello, Patty, you look sharp in your uniform.”

“That’s because it’s practically new. I never wear it.”

“I’m assuming we’re still fairly empty in the lead department.”

“There’s not much to go on, but we’re working very hard. The kid, Curtis Gee, caught two slugs in the head, and we’re still waiting for some lab results in both cases.”

“This is a tough case, Commissioner.  We’re doing it by the book, and we’ll have to catch a lead soon.”

“God bless you, my friend.”

“Thanks.”

Pat heard the motorcycle engines and sirens and saw the procession turn the corner. There were hundreds of flashing red and white lights of various NYPD vehicles. The hearse stopped in front of the cathedral, and someone gave a loud command;

“All Officers Atten...Hut!”

Thousands of officers snapped their heels to attention, making a loud “click!”  The detectives from Tony’s squad, now in their dress uniforms, were serving as pall bearers. Tony’s coffin was draped with the green and white City of New York flag. The six detectives slowly received the coffin out of the back of the hearse and started to walk. A second command was given;      

“Present Arms!”

The thousands of officers snapped their white gloved hands, rendering a respectful salute. Caroline Rodriguez and some close friends walked behind the coffin. She looked worn out, and her eyes were tear-filled. The NYPD ‘Super Chiefs’ and the commissioner followed the coffin into the cathedral. The coffin was placed down front, and the NYPD Honor Guard posted officers beside the coffin.

The funeral mass began. A soloist sang “The Lord’s Prayer,” and the priest offered opening prayers and scripture quoting John 15:13 “No man hath a greater love than this, than to lay down his life for his friends.” The priest gave a brief message about service to our fellow man and then he nodded to Pat.  Pat walked up to the front of the church. He faced the cross and crossed himself, then turned to face the enormous crowd.

“Today the shields of law enforcement officers shine brighter because of the life of my friend, Detective Anthony P. Rodriguez. He has touched the lives of so many people, including my own. When I was a young man and trying to sort out my life, Tony Rodriguez began to talk to me about the NYPD. I was always interested in police work, but Tony made it real to me. He told me that it was a big blue family and that it was the most exciting job in the world. The day I received my first shield, Tony Rodriguez pinned it on me. Tony was a ‘detective’s detective,’ who was very proud of this job. He was helpful, energetic, and a very crafty and creative detective. New York City detectives are known world-wide as being the greatest detectives, and it’s because of the work of people like Tony Rodriguez. The sunburst, representing rays of hope and light, is the shield of the New York City Police Detective. It is the most famous police shield in the world. Tony’s work has made this city a safer place. He gave his own rays of hope to neighborhoods facing armed criminals, through his work with the Firearms Task Force investigations. He has helped make New York a better place to raise our children and live our lives in peace.  I promise you that Tony will never be forgotten. My thoughts go out to Caroline and to the members of Tony’s squad in our Organized Crime Control Bureau, and we will always be here for you. God bless the life of Detective Tony Rodriguez, who paid the supreme sacrifice for the citizens of this great city, and may God bless the New York City Police Department.”

Pat returned to his seat. The priest gave the final benediction and a lone NYPD bagpiper began piping down the aisle playing “Going Home” from “The New World Symphony.” The pall bearers escorted Tony’s coffin and Caroline followed them. As they exited the church, the mass assemblies of officers were once again brought to “Present Arms” as the body was carried out of the church and placed in the hearse.

Pat sat down in the car. Dickie was already behind the wheel.  

“You made me proud to be a cop, Chief.”

“Thanks, Tony deserved the best. I can’t help but feeling that we must be missing something.”

The lines of motorcycles started out in a double column followed by the hearse, and the family limo.  Dickie and Pat were four or five cars behind the hearse.

“Wow, just look at the army of flashing red lights behind us with their high beams on. It’s a beautiful sight.”

“I agree, Chief, and every one of those guys would die for each other.”

“They would, but let’s hope we don’t have any more of that.”

As the procession entered the cemetery, the lines of blue NYPD uniforms almost went out of sight. City transit buses had brought in hundreds of officers. There were also the grey uniforms of New York State Troopers and blue, black, brown, and green uniforms representing other officers from around the country.

“Dickie, this is a fine turnout for Tony’s Inspector’s Funeral.”

“We do great in tragedies. It’s the day-to-day work where we keep our backstabbing knives sharp.” 

“You’re right, and it’s a shame that we have to put up with so much crap. I hate to admit it, but most of the trouble starts with the wannabe pencil pushers at One PP, who would sell out their mothers for another star on their shield.”

The procession stopped, and Pat got out of the Chrysler to proceed to the graveside with the other chiefs. The rifle team was in place. The NYPD Band started playing the strains of “Abide with Me.”

The pall bearers brought the flag draped coffin to the graveside as the thousands of officers saluted. The priest said the final prayer. The pipers played “Amazing Grace” with its hauntingly beautiful sound. A command was given;

“All Officers, Atten... Hut!”

The rifle team leader gave the commands; “Ready, Aim, Fire!”

There was a sharp report of the seven man rifle team firing simultaneously. The sequence was repeated two more times to complete the full twenty-one gun salute. Then a loud “Present Arms” was given as a bugler on a nearby hillside sounded “Taps.” With each mournful note, Pat O’Connor vowed he would catch Tony’s killer. After a final “Order Arms!” the officers were dismissed.

Pat walked over to Caroline and hugged her.

“Your words were beautiful, Pat. Tony would’ve been so honored.”

“Thank you, but I’m the one who was honored to talk about my friend.”

“Thank you, Pat.”

Many people were waiting to get to Caroline. Pat walked away.

Someone caught his eye and he stopped in his tracks and walked over.

“Well, if it isn’t Maggie Parker, the prettiest girl in the Secret Service.”

“And I believe it’s my favorite Chief of D’s.”

“Maggie, it’s so nice of you and your guys to be here.”

“We owe you guys, and I know that you and Tony were close. I’m sorry that I haven’t called, but I knew you would be busy and of course we had the Vice President in town last week, so we were busy too. I know it’s short notice, but why don’t you come over for dinner tonight? I’d love to spend some time with the best cop in New York.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere!”

“I would love it. Is 7:00 okay?”

“7:00 will work. I look forward to it, Pat. It’s been too long.”

Maggie Parker was the closest thing to romance that Pat O’Connor had in his life. Maggie was quite attractive. She was tall with shoulder length brown hair, deep brown eyes, and kept herself in top physical shape. She spoke with a slight Texas drawl. Pat had known Maggie since she was a street agent in New York when he was a detective lieutenant. She had since been transferred to DC for protection and supervisory assignments, but had been back in New York for a couple of years as the Special Agent in Charge of the New York Field Office. Pat and Maggie were very different, but they totally trusted each other. Maggie was the consummate executive, while Pat tended to operate closer to the street.

When Pat got in the car, Dickie Davis was smiling.

“Looks like you’re making progress in our relationship with the Secret Service.”

“Maggie’s a great gal, Dickie.”

“Absolutely, and she’s a fourteen on a one to ten scale.”

“Actually, I’d say a fifteen.”

“You definitely like her, don’t you, boss?”

“Sure, we’re old friends, and she’s invited me to dinner tonight.”

“Hopefully, this crazy city won’t interrupt it.”

CHAPTER 14

Tuesday, April 6-Day 5

Maggie Parker’s Residence

Borough of Manhattan, New York

1900 Hours

Maggie
Parker only lived a few blocks from Pat’s high-rise. Pat had his driver drop him off to change from his uniform into a sport shirt and a blazer. He put his guns on and walked across the street to the House of Flowers and picked up some yellow roses. When Maggie was assigned to the Dallas Field Office, he used to call her “The Yellow Rose of Texas,” because she loved yellow roses. Pat grabbed a cab for the five minute drive to Maggie’s luxury apartment. He walked into the lobby and was immediately recognized by the doorman.

“Chief O’Connor, it’s good to see you. It’s been a while.”

“Thanks, it’s good to see you too.”

“I’ll buzz you in. I know Miss Parker will be glad to see you.” 

Pat got off the elevator on the ninth floor and walked to the door of Maggie’s apartment. He rang the bell, being well aware that Maggie had a pin-hole surveillance camera so she could see clearly who was at her door.

The door opened and Maggie was wearing a beautiful casual red, button-down shirt and khaki slacks. Pat gave her the yellow roses.

“Hello, Gorgeous, it’s good to be here.”

“Thanks. The roses are beautiful, Pat. Dinner’s almost ready. Just make yourself at home.”

Pat loved Maggie’s apartment. It was decorated in rustic, southwestern antiques and accented with lots of treasures from her Secret Service career.  Pat loved the presidential photographs and had a few of his own from working presidential visits.

“Can you find us some nice dinner music?  We’re just about ready.”

“Do I smell what I think I smell?”

“You’ve got it, filet mignon from Mario, your favorite butcher.”

“I thought maybe you had them flown in from the White House Chef.”

“No, I’ve had the filets at the White House, and Mario’s are much better!”

“Wow, I can’t wait.”

Pat had largely built Maggie’s CD collection. Music was an ambience for her and a passion for him. She preferred it soft and subtle, while Pat liked it to sound like the performer was in the room with you. He selected jazz pianist Oscar Peterson’s tribute to Frank Sinatra. He set the volume at Maggie’s level.   

Maggie had candles lit and they sat down, facing each other. Pat always felt like a teenager when he looked at Maggie. It reminded him of the high school crushes he had on a few cheerleaders. Pat took his first bite.

“Oh, my goodness, Maggie, this is the best ever.”