A Bullet for Carlos (6 page)

“Morning, boss.”

He got out of his chair and greeted me. “How’s the leg?”

“Not bad. The worst part about getting shot is thinking it might happen again. And that’s crossed my mind a few times.”

“So you’re good to go? You’re able to work?”

“They cleared me. I’m still a little gimpy, but other than that, okay.”

“I assume you’ve been watching the papers.”

“Yeah. I can’t believe it. They’ve been running with this, huh? Seems like every three or four days another article hits.” I stopped short of telling him I knew the reason why—that somebody in the newsrooms probably owed one of Uncle Dominic’s guys money—but Chambers didn’t need to know. Ignorance is bliss, and all that.

Chambers leaned forward, looked around, then whispered. “The publicity has been a good thing. IA was pushing hard for a suspension. I saved your badge, for now, but you’ll be on desk duty until the investigation is over.”

“Desk duty sucks, but I’ll take it to get them off my back.” I reached over and straightened his lampshade, then leaned forward. “Any news on the drugs?”

A frown appeared and he shook his head. “Nothing, but don’t lose faith. And don’t let your guard down. IA has got a real hard on for you. And not the good kind.”

“So where do I go?”

A serious expression crossed Chambers’ face. “First you need to see the captain. You have an appointment at 11:00.”

“Anything I should know beforehand?”

“Nothing you don’t already know. Watch your ass.”

I got up and headed toward the door. “Everybody else watches it. Guess I should too.”

I turned the knob on the door, but then shut it and faced Chambers. “Lieutenant, there’s something I need to talk about.”

His eyes narrowed. “What?”

“When IA asked about that call, the one to Dominic Mangini…that was me. I made the call on Sean’s phone.”

His palm hit hard on the desk. “Shit.”

I lowered my head. “I know. I planned on telling them, it’s just…”

He pointed his finger at me. “Don’t say a
word.
I mean it. Right now IA knows nothing. We’ll get this straightened out.”

“I hate putting you in this spot.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m already screwed. Now get out of here and go see the captain.”

Eleven o’clock came far
too early. I spent the time since leaving Chamber’s office, imagining the possible scenarios of how things would play out in the captain’s office, and each one seemed worse than the one before. I had sacrificed everything for this badge—my family, a great boyfriend, and any shot at a stable home life, not to mention having to put up with the hidden stares whenever I walked down the hall. I took a deep breath and sucked it up. There was no way I was losing what I had left.

No way.

As I approached the captain’s office, I put the cell phone—which they had given back to me—on vibrate, then stood in front of the admin’s desk. She ignored me while chatting to someone. It sounded like a personal call, which bothered the hell out of me. She could have at least nodded, or held up her hand to signal me.

When the young girl finished she looked up, a disinterested expression on her face. “May I help you?” she asked in a tone injected with forced politeness.

“Connie Gianelli. Here to see the captain.”

“Do you have an appointment?”

“I think it was for 11:00.”

She pretended to scan the page, then lifted her head and smiled. “I’ll tell the captain you’re here.”

I waited fifteen more minutes, feeling certain that was on purpose as he had no one come out of his office while I sat there. At 11:17, the admin announced that the captain would see me.

I followed her to his office. The captain stood, but never moved from behind the desk. His smile was as wide as his room—twice the size of Lieutenant Chambers’ and his voice dripped honey. He held his hand out, but didn’t lean forward to greet me.

“Connie. So good to see you. How’s the leg?” Captain Kyrokous had a heavy voice that didn’t match his small size. With the exception of dark stubble on his chin, he looked like a man who should have owned a squeaky voice.

I was glad he called me “Connie.” That put me on alert. The captain called
no one
by their first name. I doubt if he addressed his wife that way. “Great, sir. Thanks for asking.” I put as much honey in my voice as he had.

“Have a seat.”

I got into a comfortable position. “The lieutenant said you wanted to see me?”

The captain’s smile disappeared fast. Too fast. “I did, yes. It’s about your role in the department.”

My role in the department.
Instinct had me wanting to hold my breath, but I managed to get out, “Yes?”

Kyrokous twisted in his seat. Adjusted his tie. “This…incident has garnered a lot of attention, Connie. The reporters have been all over it.”

“Seems so, sir.”

“The department doesn’t think it’s healthy to focus on this, especially when we lost two officers.”

I leaned forward, then waited to make sure he was finished. “I agree, sir. It’s time to move on and get me back to work.”

The smile re-appeared as quickly as it had gone. “I’m glad you see it that way. I’d like to have a press conference now that you’re back and put this to rest.”

This was going far better than I imagined, which meant the hammer would drop soon. Uncle Dominic always said, ‘when things are going too good to be true, they
are
too good to be true.’

“Sounds good,” I said.

The captain reached into a folder, handily situated on the top of his desk. “I have the framework for a statement here that we…the department, feel would be appropriate.”

I took the paper from him and read it. “Sir, there isn’t much mention here of Sean and Jerry.” I leaned forward, resting my elbows on his desk. “This isn’t right, sir. I’m not trying to be a hero;
they
were the heroes.”

Silence sat between us for a moment, then Kyrokous spoke. “Gianelli, this is the position the department feels is appropriate. We need to heal, and there are rumors surrounding this whole affair, especially your partners. The sooner people forget that, the better it will be for everyone.”

“Captain, I’m all for healing, but this isn’t right. I can’t do this to Sean and Jerry. What will Sean’s wife think? And Jerry’s mother?”

I laid the paper on the desk and poked at the two offensive words with my finger. My voice rising with each tap. “
Questionable circumstances?
You want me to say that about my partners? How about I just go tell Sean’s kids he was dirty?” I shoved the paper toward him and sat down. “This is
bullshit.”

Kyrokous was quiet, giving this
way
too much thought. The hammer was coming.

“Perhaps it would be best for all involved if you retired,” he said. “With full pension, of course, due to your leg injury.” A smile appeared on his face, but it was a manufactured one. “The alternative might be messy. Internal Affairs is convinced there is a lot they haven’t uncovered, and with Sean and Jerry dead…”

I wanted to jump across the desk and hit him, but Uncle Dominic taught me to never speak when I was angry. I had forgotten that momentarily, but I was in control now. I took a few calming breaths, then said, “I’ll take the promotion, Captain, but I’m staying on the force.”

Kyrokous got out of his seat, face flushed. “You might not like what the investigation turns up, Gianelli. Everyone’s dead but you. And we still don’t know where the drugs are.”

I was getting to him. I knew because we were back to
Gianelli.
I resisted the urge to smile. “There weren’t any drugs.”

“We only have your word on that,” the captain said. “I might have to consider Internal Affair’s recommendation.”

My chest shook. I took four deep breaths. No way I was giving up. This was my
life
. More of Uncle Dominic’s wisdom came to mind.

Believe your bluff and it will work.

“You can’t do this, Captain. I’m a good cop. Besides, what do you think the media will do with this? I can see the headlines now—captain fires hero cop.”

The captain approached with a threatening posture. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“I didn’t mean it as a threat, Captain, but you know how the papers are. Look what they’ve done with this story already. I’m only thinking of how it would look for the department.”

His body tensed before he calmed down, then his smile returned. The same tight smile he used earlier. “You might have a point. But I think you should move to a new precinct. I’ll send paperwork to Lieutenant Chambers. As of tomorrow you’ll be reporting to Lieutenant Morreau.”

I had heard of Morreau. That assignment meant homicide. “I’ll be there bright and early.”

I wondered why he changed so suddenly. Something was up. I closed the door a little harder than necessary, and sneered as I passed by the admin. “Captain will probably need some attention about now, dear. You better hurry on in.”

And take your clothes off.

Chapter 7

Family Advice

I
parked the car and walked half a block down the brick sidewalk under the protective arms of old oaks and sycamores. The trees had been big even when I was a little girl. I used to hang out with the boys, playing stick ball while the girls played hopscotch and jumped rope. Never did like hopscotch.

Dominic’s house was in the middle of the block. I walked past it, stepped over a piece of sidewalk that an old oak’s roots had pushed up, and climbed the few steps leading to a house near the end of the block. My stomach tightened. It was the same house it had always been, three stories of brick sandwiched between others like it. Only the curtains had changed since I’d been here last, or for that matter since I was twelve—the year my mother had her stroke.

I had lived in this house since I was born, and Dominic made sure I could continue to live there even after Mom died. He was not one to move to new things. The last I checked, he hadn’t even fixed his front door. Thirty years ago someone tried to kill him, and the bullet was still lodged in the wood. Uncle Dominic said he kept it there as a reminder not to get complacent.

I took a few deep breaths, closed my eyes and focused. Nerves were eating at me. As I reached to knock, the door opened.

“
Buongiorno, Concetta. Come va?
”

Mr. Gallo’s voice was strong, but he looked frail.

“
Buongiorno, Signor Gallo.
”

Mr. Gallo gave me a hug, but I knew he was scanning the street to see if anyone was watching. “Come in, Connie. It’s been a long time.”

I walked into the foyer, tense. A feeling like a small electric shock ran up my arm. I shivered. Eighteen years ago I found my mother lying on this very floor when I came home from school.

Mr. Gallo must have sensed my anxiety. He took hold of my arm, as if
I
were the old one, and led me through the house to the basement door. He flicked on the light and pushed a buzzer near the top of the stairs.

“If you don’t mind going alone, Connie. I don’t like to walk the steps anymore.”

“Of course, Mr. Gallo.” I gave him a peck on the cheek. “Thanks.”

As I started down the steps, he said, “Someone will meet you,” and then he said, “Good to see you again. We’re proud of you.”

“Thanks again, Mr. Gallo.”

I took my time going down the stairs, taking time to savor every memory: playing hide and seek with Timmy Regan; hiding from Mom when she got really upset with me; and sneaking to Dominic’s house to get candy late at night, after Mom went to sleep.

‘Sneaking to Dominic’s house’
meant going through the passageway he built. It went from his house all the way to the end of the block. It was only three feet wide, but it allowed him to have visitors from people who might not want to be seen entering the house of Dominic Mangini.

People like me.

None of the neighbors minded. Dominic paid them well for the slight inconvenience, and, more importantly, he said he was
indebted
to them. Who wouldn’t jump at the chance?

I could have risked going straight to his house. I might have even gotten away with it, but why try? It was one thing to have whispers about me in the NYPD; quite another to flaunt those suspicions in front of the FBI or OCU, and there was always a chance that one of those organizations had a surveillance team with cameras focused on his front door.

I entered the passageway at the rear of Gallo’s cellar. It was concrete on one side and cinder blocks on the other. A lot of work for most people, but Dominic controlled enough of the construction business that a job like this was a small favor. The floor of the passageway was carpeted, and the walls insulated for sound. I grew nervous as I approached Dominic’s house. The buzzer would have alerted him that someone was coming.

I took a few more steps and saw a crack of light from a door opening. Then I heard Uncle Zeppe.

“Concetta!”

At the sound of his voice, all tension disappeared. My shoulders relaxed, I breathed easier. But that’s how Dominic and Zeppe were—no matter what had happened—mistakes were forgiven and forgotten—with family.