The Squad Room (35 page)

Seeking out the nurse who’d helped them, Morrison took a moment to tell her how grateful he was for her and her staff’s help when they’d arrived. He handed her his card, and told her that if she or they ever needed anything, they could call him. It wasn’t the most common offer
from Bill Morrison, but he meant it sincerely.

Now, returning to the hallway with the others, he heard a faint voice from inside.

“Cap, are you there?”

At a nod from the nurse, Morrison entered and slid the curtain aside. Koreski, pale and weak-looking but none the worse for wear, burst into tears as he, McNamara, Simmons, and Garriga all moved in to hug her at once.

“I’m sorry I’m crying, guys,” she said, smiling through her tears. “It must be the drugs.”

“Not at all, Tina,” Morrison said. “We’re just glad you’re all right.”

“Incredible job tonight, Koreski,” Simmons said. “We’re all really impressed.”

“Still, man,” Garriga said, “I don’t think Pat and me ever want to listen to an operation like that again! Had us on the edge of our seat.”

Koreski laughed. “Where’s Kasak and Marchioni?” she asked.

“They’re back at the stationhouse with Galipoli,” Morrison told her. “Rivera and O’Dell are there too.”

“Right. Alex having a crack at him?”

“Yeah.” Morrison smiled, though still concerned. “Listen, Tina, seriously: are you okay?”

She nodded. “Cap, I’m better than okay,” she said. “I was a little nervous for a minute there that you guys might let me down, but I’m glad to have had the fear, just to have it proven so wrong. For the first time in a long time, I’m feeling trust again—thanks to you and all the guys, especially Leo and Mike. I owe them a big hug when I see them.”

“They’ll be glad to see you,” Morrison said.

“Well, look,” she said, “I really appreciate having you all here, but shouldn’t you guys get going? This is too important to have you guys sitting around the hospital with me.”

“Are you sure?” Simmons asked.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Get back to work and make sure that piece of shit doesn’t see the light of day again.”

Morrison smiled at her proudly.

“When she’s right, she’s right,” he said to the others. “And I promise we will,” he added, letting go of her hand. “Still, we don’t leave our own alone. Pat, I’m going to have you stay with her; I’ll ride back to the house with Garriga and Simmons.”

“Sure thing, Cap,” McNamara said.

“Rest up, Tina,” Morrison said, rising to go. “You take as long as you need to feel better—there’s no rush. Hell,” he laughed, “for all we know, Alex might still be working on the guy when you get back.”

40

It had been three hours already.

It wasn’t a long time to listen by anyone’s interview standards, especially Medveded’s—it seemed no time was too long for him. But it was pretty unbelievable that Galipoli had been able to talk about himself for so long. He was his own favorite subject, far and away. Anyone listening might have thought he was being interviewed for the Nobel Prize—
if
they could stand to listen to him for that long. It was a big if; Morrison and the others listening out in the hallway had long since taken to standing shifts.

Still, Medveded, who knew Galipoli was just an ego for whom no audience was enough, kept his patience as he played Galipoli piece by piece, gradually breaking down his defense of the king. Slowly but surely, it was working. Under his careful ministrations, the conversation had developed into the friendly banter of two old friends.

“I mean, it’s got to be tough,” he was saying now, “having that much attention all the time. Especially from women—I can’t even get a fucking woman to look my way.”

“A lot of guys can’t,” Galipoli said dismissively. “Women are bitches, that’s why.”

“That they are,” Medveded agreed, “but still, you’ve got to have
them eating out of your hand. You’re tall, you’ve got good looks—hell, you’re a goddamn war hero!”

“Yeah, well,” Galipoli said, with mock humility.

“They’ve got to be throwing it at you,” Medveded went on. “That type of shit is exactly what women want. It’s what men want, for that matter.”

“What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?” Galipoli snapped suddenly, his expression ugly. “I ain’t into guys.”

“That’s not what I mean,” Medveded backtracked. “I just mean, guys must be jealous of you. Again, something I don’t envy you for. I’m not a jealous type, so other guys’ stuff doesn’t bother me—I know I’ve got things going on for me too. But—”

“Well, why do you think the rest of this shit task force hates me so much?” Galipoli burst out. “They couldn’t shine my shoes, and they know it. Just look at tonight! These assholes think I need to
force
women to do the things they do with me. It’s bullshit! They all beg me for more.”

It was an obvious opening, but Medveded let it slide. Every bread crumb Galipoli dropped would lead him to the truth eventually.

“Speaking of which,” he said, “where the hell are those guys? I told them I’d stick around until they got back, but I wasn’t planning on being here all night. Do you want anything to eat? I’m starving.”

“Yeah, that’d be good,” Galipoli said. “I could go for a burger.”

“Sounds good to me,” Medveded said.
Anything to keep you in the chair, and not asking for an attorney,
he thought. He found a menu and put in the call, making sure to get Galipoli whatever he wanted. Some perps talked more easily when they were fed, and Medveded had a feeling Galipoli was one of them.

As they were finishing up, Medveded made his first move toward the king.

“I want to be honest with you about something,” he said, “but I need you to keep it to yourself.”

“Course,” Galipoli said, barely concealing his interest. “What’s up?” Medveded cleared his throat. “I can’t
stand
that fuck Morrison,” he
said quietly.

Galipoli almost choked on his food.

“Come on!” he said loudly, laughing in disbelief. “Don’t bullshit me—”

“Hey, shut the fuck up,” Medveded hissed, glancing at the door again. “I’m not telling you so you can send it around.”

“Sorry, man,” Galipoli said, his smile still wide. “It’s just, I thought you two were tight.”

“Everyone
does,” Medveded said. “Especially him. And I’d prefer it to stay that way, if you don’t fucking mind.”

“Sure, sure,” Galipoli said. “Sort of a friends close, enemies closer kind of thing?”

“Exactly,”
Medveded said, nodding profoundly. “Exactly. I’m not a stupid man; I have ambitions like anyone else. I’m not planning on sticking around this phony operation forever. You got to play the game, you know? That’s why Morrison’s stuck here—he can’t keep his act down long enough to move on. The way he talks to Chief Arndt—”

“I know what you mean,” Galipoli interrupted, leaping at the bait. “Arndt might be a punk, but he’s up top, and he recognizes a good thing when he sees it.”

“I’ve never really talked to him much; he a good guy to know?”

“Definitely—definitely.” Galipoli looked at Medveded with a sideways smile. “I mean, I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for him.”

“What do you mean?”

Galipoli laughed. “You don’t think one of these other assholes would have recommended me for a shield, do you? They wouldn’t know good policing if it walked up and kicked their ass for them.”

“No no, I see what you mean,” Medveded said. “Still, you didn’t have to grease the wheels on that? I mean, most guys, that’s how they end up getting it these days,” he added casually, as though bribery were a natural part of the job. “I remember I had to pay a fortune for mine.”

“Oh, I kicked him a
little
something,” Galipoli sniffed. “That’s just the industry—even the high-ups who recognize talent have to get
something out of it for themselves. But it wasn’t much, in the long run. So yeah, he’s a good guy to know. Him and Dave Cook—he’s another guy who keeps his friends close.”

Medveded hadn’t been expecting a reference to the City Councilman, but he was smarter than to let it show. “Cook, out of Brooklyn?” he asked, playing dumb.

“Yeah, District 43 in Bay Ridge,” Galipoli said. “Where I grew up.”

“How’d
he
help you?”

“Well, honestly, the war hero thing has its perks,” Galipoli smiled. “When I first got on the job, Arndt took me under his wing. He’s kind of looked out for me since then, sort of treated me as his project. Anyway, he had me get involved with all these fundraisers for politicians over the last few years. I never had any money to donate—you know, on a cop’s salary—but I’d go with him a lot, and he introduced me to a lot of people. Most of them are phony fucks, as you’d guess. Real snooty motherfuckers. Once they knew I wasn’t a donor, most of them wouldn’t even talk to me.”

“So why was Cook different?”

“Well, so Chief Arndt takes me to his office one day, last year. He was up for reelection. Real nice guy, for a change. Once he hears I’m from his district, he couldn’t be nicer. Tells me he’d love to have a war hero on his campaign committee, you know, start showing up to events and so forth—”

“What’d he pay you?” Medveded asked bluntly. Galipoli looked surprised. Medveded rolled his eyes. “Come on, man,” he said. “I’ve been doing this for a while. Just haven’t found any opportunities lately. What’d he give you, a couple hundred per appearance?”

Galipoli laughed, his pride getting the better of his discretion once again. “A couple hundred? That’s chump change,” he said. “He gave me a G every time, sometimes more.”

Medveded whistled low, as though impressed. “You weren’t worried about it blowing up on you?”

“Fuck no,” Galipoli said. “It’s what I deserved. Besides, Arndt told
me Dave could be trusted. I could put you guys in touch, if you want—it couldn’t hurt to talk to him.”

Medveded feigned interest. “I mean, the extra money must’ve been nice.”

“Damn right it was. Down payment for my car, right there.”

Medveded’s mind raced. Corruption in the department was rare nowadays, but where it did exist, it almost always went up the ladder. He decided to test the extent of Galipoli’s knowledge.

“Even so, I guess your envelopes weren’t as good as Arndt’s,” he said.

“Are you kidding?” Galipoli laughed. “No way.
No way.
Say you’re a politician, and you’re in a situation—imagine the kind of help the Chief of Detectives can give you.”

“Sure, but—”

“Look at it this way, man. Sometimes Cook would ask me to deliver Arndt’s to him, so one time I opened it up. I wasn’t doing anything with it—just looking. There was ten grand in there.
Ten fucking grand.
Cash. Tax-free. Think I’d say no to
that
every couple of months?”

“No, I guess not,” Medveded laughed.

“No is right, my Russian friend,” Galipoli said grandly. “I’d jump at the opportunity.”

Medveded jumped at his, to bring the conversation back around to the homicides.

“Man,” he said. “I’m learning something today. I haven’t had the balls to take that kind of chance in my career.”

“You want the reward, you gotta take the risk,” Galipoli pontificated.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Medveded agreed sheepishly. “But look—women are a different story, right? You have a natural ability there. You got a secret, or what?”

“Like you said, it’s natural.”

“I mean, it must be. I’ve seen Tina staring at you when you were at your desk—”

“Tell that to those motherfuckers!” Galipoli exploded, gesturing towards the door.

“I’m sure she’ll tell them herself,” Medveded said calmly. “I mean, it was pretty obvious. She didn’t think anyone saw her, but I did. Girl eyed you like a ham sandwich. I swear, half the time I caught her looking at you, she looked like she was about to start touching herself under the desk.”

This got a rise out of Galipoli. He leaned forward, suddenly interested.

“I
knew
that bitch was into me,” he hissed under his breath. “It’s the same with all of them. They all act high and mighty when other people are around, but deep down they’re all just bitches in heat. I get them alone, I can’t keep them off of me.”

“Yeah?” Medveded asked, hesitant to commit more in case Galipoli was baiting him.

“Oh yeah,” Galipoli said with a faraway look.
No baiting there,
Medveded thought.
It’s chest-thumping time.
“You should have seen Tina tonight,” Galipoli went on. “Little fucking minx.”

“What happened?”

“Well, consummate gentleman that I am, I pick her up from the salon,” Galipoli said, eager to tell his side of the story. “Once she gets in my car, she can’t keep her hands off me. I’d brought a couple of drinks along so we could get started early, so we drank those, and man, that chick was ready to go. She didn’t even want to wait ’til we got to her apartment. She’s got her head on my shoulder, you know, kind of distracting me while I’m driving—I was like,
Slow down, honey,
but she couldn’t hold herself back. She wanted to blow me right in the car.”

“Unbelievable,” Medveded said, and meant it. “I would never have known that about her.”

“Oh yeah, she was pretty freaky,” Galipoli said. “She wanted me to slap her, so I did; she liked that, man. She wanted more. I told her to wait until we got to her place, and I’d give her what she was asking for.”

It was obvious even from Galipoli’s facial expression that this was simply his fantasy version of what had happened, but Medveded took it for what it was: a way in.

“Most women just reject me,” he said absently, as though changing
the subject. “I usually just end up going home to jerk off.”

“That’s bullshit,” Galipoli said, looking almost pityingly at him. “I never let them get away with that kind of crap. A bitch rejects me, she gets what’s coming to her.”

“How do you mean?”

“You know, just—they get their comeuppance, that’s all.”

Medveded saw that he’d have to put a line out. “I mean, I think I know what you mean,” he said, quickly thinking up a story. “I pulled this rich girl over once for driving drunk, back in my patrol days, and—”