New York Chief of Detectives (4 page)

Bryan Flannery walked to the front of the conference room with his Captain’s shield around his neck over a brown pin-striped suit.

“Good morning, guys and gals, we have a lot of work to do. Dennis Phillips?”

“Yes sir, Captain.”

“I want you to get on Tony Rodriguez’s computers, including laptop, desktop and home computer. Look for absolutely anything that may show us what he was working on. Do a full forensic exam on each.”

“Yes sir, I’m on it.”

“Karla Adams, I want you and Wilber to start working the phones, including cell phones, desk phone, and home phone. I want to know who he’s been talking to and when. Start with Thursday and Friday and establish the last known location of the phones. We need to talk to the people who talked to him and see if we can get a line on what he was into last night.”

“Okay, Captain. Do we have his number identified?”

“See Mike and Mary after the briefing.”

“Rosa Sanchez, find out where and by whom these bright blue tortilla chips are made, distributed, and most of all sold. They may be common, but I’ve never seen anything like them.”

“Got it, Boss. I’ve eaten a lot of chips, but I have no idea where or who distributes them. I’ve certainly never seen these bright blue ones.”

“Rosa, I would start with food distributors, looking particularly at the Mexican and Latino restaurants.”

“Thanks, Captain.”

“Andy Anderson.”

“Yes sir.”

“I want you and Alverez to go over to OCCB and go through Tony’s desk with a fine tooth comb. See if you can find any clues regarding what he may have been working on last night. Go through every piece of paper in his desk and interview all of the guys in his squad. He may have mentioned something that could help us.” 

“We’re on it, boss.”

Pat returned to the podium.

“We’ll meet again at 1700 hours and see what progress we’ve made. We have a press conference at 1000 hours that I’ll handle. Queens Anti-Crime is coming in to help us. They’ll be re-canvassing everything. We have some reward posters and flyers printed up to distribute and a tip line has been set up around the clock. Transit cops will saturate the subway line for the next couple days with the flyers, and if we have to, we’ll repeat it on Friday and Saturday. Thank you for your hard work. I assure you that we will be successful!”

Pat returned a few phone calls from commanders around the city. One of the calls was from Angela Wilson’s husband, Mike, who is the Assistant Special Agent in Charge of the FBI’s New York Office. Pat dialed Mike’s cell phone.

“Mike Wilson.”

“Hi Mike, it’s Pat O’Connor.”

“How’s the Chief of D’s?”

“I’m good, Mike, but covered up.” 

“I know. Pat. Angie has been gone all weekend, serving the real love of her life, the NYPD.” 

“Yep, and I appreciate you sharing her with us.”

“No problem, Pat. The reason I called is that I was wondering if there is anything the FBI could do to help?”

“Just getting as much information out as possible will help. We’ve still not located Tony’s car or cell phones.”

“Do you have someone to work the phones?”

“Yea, my guys on the Marshal’s Task Force are getting it done.”

“I should’ve known. I won’t hold you up, because I know you’re busy. If you need anything, please reach out to us.”

“I will, and maybe ask your guys to hit up their informants and see if anything is out there. I appreciate the call, Mike.”

“We’re in this business together, my friend.”

Pat was usually disgusted with most FBI Agents’ lack of street savvy and inexperience, but Mike Wilson was an exception, and a stand up guy to boot. 

CHAPTER 8

Sunday, April 4-Day 3

NYPD Press Room-One Police Plaza

Borough of Manhattan, New York

1000 Hours

The
press room at One Police Plaza was packed with reporters and cameras. Pat was in a conference room with Police Commissioner Longstreet and the four-star Chief of Department, Charles Abernathy. Chief Abernathy had over forty years on the job and was sharply dressed in his four-star dress blues. His silver hair made him look very distinguished in the uniform. The commissioner approached Pat.

“Patty, what do you have for me?”

“I’m afraid not a lot. We’re working fast, but we really have little more than we did yesterday morning. I’ve got a lot of irons in the fire. We’ve put together a task force, got a tip line up and are hitting the streets with flyers.”

“So, what are we going to tell the vultures in that room?”

“I’ll say exactly what I choose to say, Commissioner. I’ll give them a brief statement, get some contact information out, and we’ll leave without answering any questions.”

“You must be dreaming, Patty. They’ll run me out of town as police commissioner if we don’t give them more.” 

“No disrespect meant, but we should worry about catching the perp who did this, instead of trying to cover our political asses.”

“Now wait a minute, Patrick.” Abernathy interjected.

“Treat the commissioner with some respect!”  

Pat had a difficult relationship with Chief Abernathy at best. He was a career uniformed cop with no investigative experience, and sometimes, he just didn’t understand the finer points of conducting successful investigations. Pat fired back. “I’m not being disrespectful. But we know so little about this case that we could blow it accidentally by running off at the mouth to be politically correct. What we’ll do is have the commissioner introduce me, and I’ll release what I can and will give kudos to you guys. Then we exit stage right.”

“Charles, I trust Patty, and I’m okay with it.”

Abernathy reluctantly accepted, nodding his head.

“Then you won’t get any grief from me, Commissioner.”

The three men approached the podium in the media room, and immediately the bright lights went on, blinding everyone at the podium. Pat thought about how many of the NYPD brass he had seen cave in under the media, especially when the reporters were young, female, and good-looking. Commissioner Robert Longstreet took the podium first.

“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. I’m Robert Longstreet, Commissioner of the New York City Police Department. We’re saddened by the death of one of our own, Detective Second Grade Anthony P. Rodriguez, of the Organized Crime Control Bureau. Our hearts go out to the Rodriguez
family, and we are doing everything possible to bring the perpetrator or perpetrators of this heinous crime to justice. I’d like to call our Chief of Detectives to the microphone for an update on the investigation. Ladies and gentlemen, I thank you for your help in this matter, and introduce to you Patrick O’Connor, our Chief of Detectives.”

“Thank you, Commissioner Longstreet. I echo your kind words. Yesterday morning the body of NYPD Detective, Anthony Rodriguez, was found in Queens in a vacant lot at 3312 Plaza Terrace, near the subway overpass. The medical examiner has ruled the death a homicide. We have formed a task force to work this investigation and are making considerable progress. However, we are still in the early stages of the investigation and cannot release much information. We are pursuing leads and conducting forensic examinations of significant evidence. We are using the 1-800-COP-SHOT tip line, which is being manned twenty-four hours a day. If anyone has information regarding this case, we will pay a reward of up to $30,000 for information leading to the arrest of the person or persons responsible for this horrific act. We will not be taking questions at this time, but will release more information when we can do so without compromising our on-going criminal investigation. I want to thank you ladies and gentlemen for your understanding and help in this investigation. Commissioner Longstreet and Chief Abernathy have committed the resources of the entire NYPD to solving this case.”

Pat turned and walked off the stage with the reporters screaming and calling his name. “Chief O’Connor? Chief O’Connor.” Pat ignored them and walked back into the conference room followed by Commissioner Longstreet and Chief Abernathy.

“What do you mean considerable progress, leads, and significant evidence? Pat, you told us you didn’t have squat!”

“Commissioner, they want us to lay our case out, and I’m not going to do that. Somewhere out there, the ‘skell’ that is responsible for this crime is going to see our comments. I don’t want him to hear us say that we have nothing. When he hears that we’re pursuing leads and examining significant evidence, he might just shit in his pants and make a mistake. I want us to be there to nail him.   I’ve spent my career doing this job, and I know we’ve just turned up the heat.”

Pat walked out of the conference room with no further comments from Commissioner Longstreet or Chief Abernathy.    He discussed more options with Bryan Flannery, and the two of them went over the entire case again. After an hour, Pat walked back into his office to find his phone ringing.

“Pat O’Connor.”

“Andy Anderson here, boss. I’m sorry to bother you Chief, but we have a sort of stand-off here over at OCCB.”

“What kind of stand-off?”

“Sanchez and I are at OCCB to look at Rodriguez’s desk. There are two goons from IAB that have camped out to keep us from looking at it. They say that they have orders from ‘Harry the Hatchet.’”

“Put me on the speaker phone.”

“Yes sir.”

“Gentlemen, this is Patrick O’Connor, Chief of Detectives. I need your names and shield numbers.”

“Simmons 2318 and Harris 6112.”

“Very well, may I ask why you’re interfering with my detectives looking at Detective Rodriguez’s desk?”

“Chief, we were directed not to let anyone near it by Chief Doogin.”

“Okay, boys, I want you to listen very carefully. Detective Anderson and his partner are going to search the desk for leads. You’ll be welcome to observe. If you interfere in any way, I’ll give
Detective Anderson a direct order to place you both under arrest and lock you up. This is a homicide investigation, and that takes priority over any IAB witch hunt. Do you understand me gentlemen?”

“We’re just doing what we were told.”

“Noted, and I’ll let your boss know of my actions.”

“Yes sir, Chief.”

Pat was steaming and dialed Harry Doogin’s cell number.

“Doogin here.”

“Harry, this is Pat O’Connor. I just called off your two goons over at OCCB, and I’m up to my eyes with your IAB bullshit. You don’t have one single thing to even suggest that Tony Rodriguez was anything but a stellar detective and I refuse to allow your amateur detectives to cast doubts. If we find anything that looks out of line, you’ll be the first to know.”

“Pat, I have a job to do.”

“That’s where we disagree, Harry, because I haven’t seen anything that points to that.”

“Wait a minute!”

“No, Harry, you wait a minute. This is the murder of an NYPD Detective, and it is the job of the Detective Bureau to solve it. It’s my job, not yours! If your IAB guys start nosing around you could screw up the entire case. When an IAB rat asks a cop a question, they know they have to answer it or get fired. If one of those cops were to say something incriminating to one of your guys, they would laugh us out of the courtroom. You know that administrative statements required by the department to be given to IAB are not admissible in court. Harry, you better put your hatchet up before you cut yourself. I can promise you that the commissioner and chief will back me up on this, Harry. If you want me to get them on the line, I’ll do it!”

“No need to do that, Pat. I’m a patient man. But if you find anything…”

“Don’t worry.  You’ll be the first to know.”

When Pat O’Connor had to deal with ‘Harry the Hatchet,’ he often thought of the old Louis Armstrong song “I’ll be Glad When You’re Dead, You Rascal, You.”

At 1700 hours Pat returned to the conference room. Only about half of the members of the task force were there. Bryan Flannery was in the room, and stood up when the Chief of Detectives walked in. 

“Afternoon, Chief, several of the teams are still out working leads. I told them to stay on the trail and they could update us in the morning, unless they got a major break.”

“That’s okay with me, Bryan. Keep their feet to the fire.”  

“I’ll go first, Chief.” Rosa Sanchez offered.

“Sure, Rosa, what did you find out?”

“Unfortunately, not too much. The food distributors are all closed on Sunday, but I went to a few Mexican food stores. I could find no bright blue chips. They have plenty of plain chips, red chips, black chips, and even dark blue chips, but no bright blue chips. One of the grocers was really helpful and told me that it’s likely from a restaurant or bar that makes their own, which is common. Tomorrow morning I’ll hit them hard.”

“Thanks, Rosa.”

“Andy Anderson, what did we find out after we came to an understanding with our IAB friends?”