Breaking Rank (54 page)

EXT. CITY STREET—NIGHT

Recently elected Mayor Rudolph W. Giuliani has just stepped from his chauffeur-driven SUV. Across the street, his police commissioner, William J. Bratton, has just stepped from
his
chauffeur-driven SUV. They're wearing identical Burberry trench coats. Neither expected to see the other.

Giuliani

Hey, Commish! Nice coat. What the hell are you doing out this late? Look at this shit. Can you believe it? You see why we gotta get my new crime plan up and running?

A TV truck shows up out of nowhere. A NEWSWOMAN steps out, approaches, MICROPHONE in hand. The mayor turns to her, smiles. A bright light shines in his face, a CAMERA rolls. Giuliani, his comb-over fluffing in the wind, looks directly into the camera then back at the NEWSWOMAN.

Hey, Julie. Nice to see you this evening. Just look at this mess. Hey, this is a good opportunity to show your viewers I'm coming after every two-bit thug on these streets—the panhandlers, the squeegee men, the dealers. If they won't behave like decent human beings I'm going to round 'em up, write 'em up, and clear 'em off the streets.

Reporter

Good evening, Mr. Mayor. We just finished a piece on homicides, a couple of blocks over. I'm glad we caught you. Any chance I can have a word with our new police commissioner?

The camera scans over to the commissioner.

Giuliani

Zero tolerance, my friend. That's our philosophy.
Zero
tolerance of lawbreakers, scofflaws, miscreants . . .

The camera switches back to the mayor. The reporter ignores him, addresses herself to the commissioner. The camera switches back to the commissioner.

Reporter

Mr. Commissioner, can you tell our viewers: What exactly is your strategy for dealing with crime and . . .

The mayor interrupts. The camera swings back to him.

Giuliani

Well, as I've explained, our strategy for dealing with crime is to tolerate
no
violations of the law. Tolerance of lawlessness, no matter how seemingly trivial, subtracts from our quality of life. It makes our streets fearsome and foreboding. We're going to
drastically
improve the quality of life of every law-abiding New Yorker by refusing to tolerate what you see here tonight. The prostitution, the illegal gambling, the urinating in public, the . . .

The reporter interrupts the mayor. The camera switches over to the commissioner.

Reporter

And, Mr. Commissioner, how do you propose to . . .

The mayor interrupts. The camera switches back to the mayor.

Giuliani

Did I mention zero tolerance? No law too small, no offense too petty. We're going to enforce all infractions. And I've got just the commissioner to do it. Best damn police commissioner in the country. Anyway, that's my crime plan. Right, Commissioner?

The mayor puts his arm around Bratton, pulls him into the picture. Bratton addresses Giuliani, the camera has them both in the picture for a moment then focuses on Bratton.

Bratton

That's right, your honor. “Broken windows.” Take care of the small stuff, repair those broken windows, get those abandoned beaters off the road, pinch the misdemeanants, give the physical reality of the city a safe feeling. If the streets
look
safe and
feel
safe, New Yorkers will . . .

Giuliani, obviously agitated, interrupts. The camera swings back to him.

Giuliani

See why I picked Mr. Bratton, here? He's a thinker, a doer. What'd we have before I was elected, Commissioner? Twenty-five hundred, 3,000 killings a year? In a
single year?

Camera switches rapidly from mayor to commissioner.

Bratton

Two thousand two hundred and ninety, your honor. In 1990.

Camera back on the mayor.

Giuliani

Speaking directly into the camera.

See what I mean? Unacceptable. Totally unacceptable. You watch. We're going to cut the murder rate in half. Better than that, actually. Mark my words. We're taking this city
back!
Now, if you'll excuse us. The commissioner and I have some crime-busting business
to discuss. Did I mention he's the best police commissioner this city has ever seen? First-rate. Doing a terrific job with my crime plan. Thanks for your time, Julie. Good to see you out here.

The TV reporter thanks the mayor and the commissioner, says a few words to the folks back in the studio. Lights and camera are cut. Reporter and cameraman head back to their truck. Giuliani and Bratton stroll down the block to a deserted ALCOVE.

Giuliani

Okay, Bratton. What the fuck was that all about?

The commissioner squints, shakes his head, obviously puzzled.

Bratton

What do you mean?

Giuliani

You know goddamn well what I mean. What the hell are you calling the press for?

Bratton

I didn't call any . . . Didn't she just say they were in the neighborhood?

Giuliani

Look. Let's get one thing straight.
I'm
the capo here. This is
my
city. No one elected you anything. Got that?
You
work for
me.
Capiche?

Bratton

Of course, your honor . . .

INT. MAYOR'S OFFICE—DAY

Sitting behind a massive DESK, U.S. and STATE OF NEW YORK FLAGS behind him, the mayor gets up, walks around the desk, shakes hands with his police commissioner who's just walked into the office, his trench coat draped over his left arm.

Giuliani

Bill, Bill, Bill. Good to see you. I just wanted to remind you why I selected you. You listen, and you take directions well. I like that. I like what you're doing with that Comstat thing, putting my program for precinct accountability into action. And hiring that guy, what's his name? The crazy guy with the crazy shoes. And that crazy hat. What kind of a hat is that, anyway?

Bratton

A homburg, I think.

Giuliani

Right, right. A homburg. What's the guy's name?

Bratton

Maple. Jack Maple.

Giuliani

Like the syrup?

Bratton

Like the syrup.

Giuliani

Well, he's a colorful one, he is. Seems to know his stuff, though. I'll give him that.

The mayor pauses, shakes his head, continues.

I don't know . . . Maybe he's a little too, what,
too
colorful? If you catch my drift.

Bratton

Your drift?

Giuliani

Publicity, Commish, publicity. The press. Your man Maple seems to need a lot of ink. A lot of ink, indeed. I'm beginning to think maybe he's even taking a little credit that might belong to certain others. If you catch my drift.

Bratton

But, he . . .

INT. MAYOR'S OFFICE—DAY

Nine months later. The press, academics, and voters have noticed a positive change in the environment around Times Square. The mayor sits behind his DESK, does not get up. The police commissioner walks into the mayor's office, GLOVES in hand. Starts to remove his COAT. Giuliani waves him off.

No. No need to sit down. I'll cut to the chase: You, my friend, are skating on thin ice. You know damn well that what's happening in this city, this, this . . .
transformation
, is my doing. Not yours, not your syrupy friend, not your academic “broken windows” pals. This is
mine. My
strategy.
My
tactics.
My
police department.
My
success! You got that?

Bratton

But, sir, I . . . My commanders, and the men and women of the . . .

Giuliani

I said, you got that? Good. Then let's act accordingly, goddammit. And, what's this shit about you holding press conferences and entertaining reporters in your office? What's with these late-night sessions at Elaine's, for chrissakes! What's that about?

Bratton

I don't have a big press office, like . . .

Giuliani

Hey, don't get smart-mouthed with me! I hear you're even planning a freaking “police parade” up Broadway? Right? On your freaking birthday! Is a pattern starting to emerge here for you? Or are you just a clueless fuck?

Bratton

I hear what you're . . .

Eighteen months later. Crime is down, dramatically. The streets are clean. Visitors are flocking back to New York. Giuliani has claimed credit for it. He's appeared on TV, on “Saturday Night Live” (in drag). He's become a celebrity. Bratton's had his share of publicity too. He's not been on SNL, he's not pulled the plug on artists' works, nor carried on a highly public affair with a woman not his wife. But he has energized his department, and he's talked about the success of NYPD's crime-fighting efforts. He tells the nation's chiefs that the police
can
cut crime, even as he cautions them to be ready for an increase in citizen complaints about “overly aggressive practices.” Tensions have been escalating steadily between the mayor and the commissioner. Then Bratton appears on the
cover of
Time
magazine. The article attributes New York's turnaround to the new commissioner. Giuliani summons him.

INT. MAYOR'S OFFICE—DAY

Bratton walks in to find Giuliani behind his desk, his jaw set, his eyes reduced to a reptilian slit.

Giuliani

Shut the door, asshole.

Bratton

Who you calling an asshole?

Giuliani

There's only two of us in this office.

Bratton

That doesn't clear up a thing.

Giuliani

Nice article in
Time.

Bratton

Why, thank you, your honor. I was a little worried that you'd . . .

Giuliani

Get out. You're fired.

FADE TO BLACK

THE END

Okay, so it's make-believe. But it can't be too far from the way it really happened. Much has been written about the relationship between New York City's former mayor and his police commissioner of 1994–96: Giuliani and Bratton's celebrated “he said/he said” battles, their struggle for media supremacy, their competing claims to the credit for the remarkable turnaround in the city's fortunes. Each man has written a book, each crowing about his success in office. I had drinks with Bratton toward the end of his all-too-brief tenure at a hotel bar in Albuquerque. We were attending the Major Cities Police Chiefs conference. I sensed that he believed the end was near, that neither he nor Giuliani was going to budge. Which meant the victory would by default go to the mayor. I was sad about that. I admired the “Commish,” still do. He's cocky and brash, and he can be flippant at times. But he's the real deal, and he knows how to make cities safer.