Authors: Patrick Abbruzzi
Both sectors arrived at the address at the same time and as John maneuvered his RMP into a parking spot directly in fron
t
of the address he noticed that Frankie Catalano had parked his car jus
t
short of the actual address. John quickly understood that Frankie had done this deliberately, as
a
safety precaution, just in case someone did have a gun and decided to have target practice on the boys in blue as they exited their cars.
John had just learned his first valuable lesson of the day but, sadly enough, it had not come from his own partner.
Frankie Catalano greeted Frank with a salute.
“How’s your new partner working out?
”
Frankie asked in an innocent tone. Not surprisingly, Frank did not respond to the question and quickly changed the subject.
“Have you ever been to this apartment before?”
“No, but they all have guns in this shithole,” answered Frankie.
All four officers entered the building together. The lobby directory was
a
mass of broken glass and countless, glittering shards covered the floor. The letters remaining in the directory that were supposed to spell ou
t
the names of the residents had been re-arranged and used to spell ou
t
profanities of all kinds directed to one’s mother. The only reliable information was that apartments A through M were on the lef
t
elevator side and N through Z were on the right side. Naturally
,
Murphy’s Law was in effect and the elevators were both out of service.
The four cops began their trek up the flight of stairs to the sixt
h
floor. When they got there, Frank continued on and made his way up an extra flight to the 7
th
floor. John looked at Frankie Catalano as if to ask what the hell was going on.
“The guy just doesn’t talk to me,” he reluctantly admitted to Frankie.
“Go up with him, kid,” Frankie replied like a father giving advice to his son.
John followed his partner up the stairs which eventually spilled them out on the roof. A few minutes later, a black male came running up the stairwel
l
from the other side of the roof where, appropriately enough, Frank wa
s
standing with his service revolver out, cocked and at the ready. Th
e
male stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Frank with his gun out.
“Where are you going in such a hurry?
”
asked Frank.
The black dude didn’t seem threatening in any way. As a matter of fact, h
e
seemed a little bookish and nerdy. He was only about 5'8" and had shor
t
cropped hair. He didn’t even have a ‘fro,
’
which was the in thing for al
l
the young brothers of the sixties. He spoke in a quiet and reserve
d
manner.
“Good morning, Officer. I was just going to my lady’s apartment on the othe
r
side of the building,” the stranger said in a nonchalant tone of voice.
“Where are you coming from?
”
Frank asked, never taking his eyes off th
e
young dude.
“I live in Apt. 6C on this side of the building,” the man replied as a slight bead of perspiration began forming on his brow.
With this information, Frank ordered the young black to turn around and spread eagl
e
against the outside of the stairwell. John knew that as soon as the man said he lived in Apt.6C, Frank had enough information to conduct a frisk.
Frank holstered his weapon while John removed his and covered Frank as he conducted the frisk of the young turkey. He
came up with a nicke
l
bag of pot but more importantly he found a .32 caliber revolver stuffed dow
n
into the man’s waistband. Frank checked the cylinder and found one shell missing. Frank quickly rear cuffed the young dude, who was now cursing a
t
both officers.
The green metal roof door where Frank had been standing and the young black had exited from suddenly swung open and Willie Folder, Frankie Catalano’
s
partner, came through.
“Frank, we’ve got a broad down in Apt.6C who said that her common-la
w
husband fired a shot at her. She caught him fucking around with anothe
r
woman on the other side of the building and confronted him with it,” said Willie.
“We got both him and the gun,” Frank replied.
The woman was brought to the rooftop for an on the scene identificatio
n
and quickly pointed out her common-law husband.
“That be the mother-fucker. I cooks for him, I had two of his kids, and
I
fucks for him anytime he wants. He be thinking that I ain’t good ‘noug
h
for him no more, so he gotsto be fucking somebody else. Sheet, just becaus
e
I got kids with two other dudes, he be thinking that all I gotsto do i
s
spread my legs and give my pussy to the neighborhood. Sheet!
”
shesai
d
matter-of-factly.
Frank and John assured the woman that her husband would not be back tha
t
night but she would have to appear in criminal court when subpoenaed to testify. Both Frank and John also knew that within 24-4
8
hours the woman would have a change of heart and most likely hav
e
the charges dropped when she got to the complaint room at the court a
t
67 Targee Street.
Even though John and his partner had made the collar, Frank turned it over t
o
Frankie and Willie because the original job belonged to sector David. Besides, Frankie wanted the collar. If the guys in sector D had been fill-ins then Frank would have kept the collar because he, in fact, wa
s
the apprehending officer. A gun collar was a good pinch, and Frankie an
d
Willie would have done the same for sector E.
All four cops walked down the seven flights from the roof with their prisoner. Willie placed the dude in the rear seat and Frankie sat righ
t
beside him. Willie got behind the wheel and sped off to the precinct wit
h
sirens and lights all blasting on full.
Sixteen
Charlie looked at the lieutenant and frowned.
“Lou, are you telling me that even after the drive to the hospital an
d
that gun run on ParkhillAvenue, your partner still ha
d
not spoken to you?
”
“That’s what I’m saying, Charlie. I started to believe that perhaps I shoul
d
go back to the squad as a footman and was afraid I would have to accept the fact that I would be a fill-in for the rest o
f
my career in the 120
th
,” Lt. A. replied.
“Did he ever speak to you, Lou? I mean, I know he eventually did but when and how did it happen?”
“I’m just about to get to that part. It’s really amazing how it all came about,” said Lt. A.
When we resumed patrol, Frank notified Central that we were available for assignment.
“120-Eddie to Central.”
“Proceed, Eddie,” Central answered back.
“120-Eddie is 10-98, K,” Frank said.
I began driving back to the confines of the sector Eddie and decided to drive down Vanderbilt Avenue and make the turn northward along Tompkins Avenue, passing Public School 14 and the home for female mariners of the sea. The home was for women only who had served proudl
y
in the Merchant Marines and was an offshoot of the fame
d
Sailor Snug Harbor which housed the male mariners who had retired.
It was getting close to 11:00 A.M. and was time for our sector to have our meal hour. We had originally been assigned a meal time of 8:00 A.M. bu
t
had it changed because we had been assigned a job at that time. Radio ca
r
teams did not get to eat at their assigned time if it was busy. As a result, meal times had to be rescheduled. When this happened, the meal hours were staggere
d
because a certain percentage of cars always had to be available fo
r
patrol.
Depending on the shift they were working, cops had special places they frequented. I knew sector Eddie was a good sector fo
r
eating and most places were good to us cops. We either got food on the arm or huge discounts.
Frank still had not spoken a word to me yet, so I asked him if there was any place special he wanted to go.
I realized Frank did not really know me yet and his issues with me might be as simple a
s
a question of trust.
“Go down to Mama Rosie’s on Canal Street,” Frank directed.
I acknowledged then drove us down Canal Street and parked directl
y
in front of Mama Rosie’s place.
“Do you want me to go in, Frank?
”
I asked.
“Stay in the car and monitor the radio. When I come out, then you can g
o
in,” he replied.
I nodded my ascent and he went in. After a few minutes Frank came back ou
t
carrying a paper bag. When he got to the car, although he did not say a word, he looked at me as if to say, “Get off your ass and go in.”
I made my way into Mama Rosie’s to order my food and buy
a
pack of Kent Kingscigarettes. As I browsed the shelves inside the small store I couldn’t help but notice they carrie
d
Twinkies, which were my favorite, so I bought a package. Tun
a
salad on white with lettuce with mayonnaise was another one of my favorites so that is what I ordered. To top it off, I bought a container of Nestle’s Quick chocolate milk.The lunch was free but I left a fifty cent tip and made my way out of the store. When I got back into the RMP, I placed the bag on the front sea
t
between myself and Frank then closed the door.
“Drive down to pier three. We’ll eat there,” Frank said. I hid my surprise that I didn’t have to ask him where we should go to ea
t
our lunch.
I drove down Canal Street to Front Street then slowly pulle
d
into the old pier. Although this particular pier was abandoned, its location was convenient for us. Before turning off the engine, I maneuvered the car so it was facing out just in case we got a call for a heavy job.
I watched quietly while Frank took his lunch from the paper bag. He had
a
pack of Kent Kings cigarettes, a package of Twinkies and a Tuna salad o
n
white with mayonnaise. He also had a container of Nestle’s Quick chocolate milk, which was exactly what I had purchased for my lunch.
“What are you, a fucking wise ass?
”
Frank asked me.
“What do you mean?
”
“What did you do? You asked Rosie what I ordered and you got the sam
e
fucking thing!
”
growled Frank without trying to hide his irritation.
“I ordered what I like and what I wanted,” I replied angrily. “I don’t have to order what you get.”
“I’ve never had anyone order the same as me. Is that your brand, too?” Frank asked, pointing at the pack of cigarettes.
“Yeah, and believe it or not, I like Twinkies, too,” I said with the hint of a smile twitching the corner of my mouth.
It was an incredulous conversation for two grown men to have. Imagine this – two cops sitting in a patrol car, talking abou
t
food and cigarettes. Yet this dialogue, after having worked only a few hours together as partners, was the beginning catalyst for a relationship and partnershi
p
that would span twelve years in the same busy precinct and sector.
Although neither of us knew it yet, together we would deliver twelve babies, two of which would be named after us. We would set a precinct record for the most stolen car arrests in a single month’s time. We would also rush into burning buildings and pull people t
o
safety and we would garnish Cop of the Month honors multiple times. Finally, we would both be recognized and honored as NYC Police Officer of the year.