FORGOTTEN (12 page)

“We’re cool. I don’t think Mike had any clue what those idiots were doing.”

“He’s assured me he didn’t have a clue. Mike knows this was not your fault and accepts full responsibility.”

“Thanks, Angie, and don’t work too late.”

Chapter 28

Thursday, February 3 - Day 16

Steamboat Cafe

Borough of Manhattan, New York

1900 Hours

P
at and Maggie arrived at exactly the same time. Pat had been driving himself for the last few days, since Dickie Davis had been working on the case. It was against protocol, but he had pulled a car from the motor pool for Dickie to drive. Parking in a loading zone, he put his NYPD placard in the dash which said
NYPD Official Business
. He opened the trunk and took out his leather trumpet case. Maggie and some of the guys had given Pat a beautifully engraved gold-plated trumpet for his birthday. Maggie immediately noticed.

“That’s a nice looking case there, Pat.”

“Yep. It was given to me by the prettiest girl in New York.”

“That’s sweet, but I still think you need to get your eyes checked.”

“Hardly. I hope you’re hungry.”

“I’m starving. I haven’t had anything since my breakfast energy bar.”

Pat and Maggie walked in and were immediately greeted by Sam Spicer, the owner.

“Chief O’Connor and Miss Parker, I’m so glad you worked us into your busy lives. I’m also glad to see you have that trumpet with you.”

“Sure, Sam, and I’ll play a few tunes with the boys after we eat.”

As always, Sam seated Pat and Maggie near the bandstand. Warren Downing and the rhythm section all waved to Pat and smiled. The Steamboat Café always made him feel at home. It was the closest thing to New Orleans in the city. The Dixieland Jazz was a great atmosphere and reminded Pat of growing up in the Crescent City.

Pat and Maggie both ordered some barbecued shrimp and bowls of gumbo. Maggie credited him with developing her taste for the New Orleans cuisine.

“Have you heard anything else about our shooter in New Jersey?” Maggie asked.

“Not even a phone call. We were going to do a search warrant for his house, but when we went by to get a description, our friends at the Bureau were already searching it.”

“They didn’t let you know that either?”

“No, but Mike Wilson told me they didn’t find anything unusual. However, I still have Karla Adams checking on Harry Pittsford’s phone records and credit card receipts. You never know what you might find.”

“Or what the FBI boys might have missed.” Maggie said.

“Especially that. I’m not trying to be an FBI basher, but they can be arrogant and often aren't the greatest investigators. I blame the attitude on the nature of the organization more so than the character and abilities of the individual agents. I know there are brilliant and dedicated agents, but the organizational culture presumes that local cops are idiots.”

“You’ve said it before, Pat, and I know it’s true. Local cops have more authority than any other law enforcement officers in the country, and in most cases, they’re the most experienced.”

“Of course! A beat cop in Times Square can arrest you for anything from littering to murder and doesn’t have to ask a single person. He can decide to arrest anyone who violates the law and legally deprive that person of their freedom. There are few federal agents who have anywhere near that much discretion. It just doesn’t happen. It’s not totally their fault, but it’s a result of the cherry picking of cases by the US Attorneys. Federal agents are only allowed to arrest people for perfect cases. Big-city cops arrest people all the time for all kinds of things. It’s part of what we do almost every single day.”

The food came, and Pat and Maggie continued their conversations as they dove into the tasty and spicy food. Clarinetist Warren Downing stopped by the table and talked with Pat. “I see you brought the good horn tonight.”

“Yes, Warren, it’s like bringing out the fine China. I love this horn, but I worry about leaving it in the car.”

“I’m sure it’s well-protected.”

“Yes, but there are places I have to go where I worry about it, cop or not.”

“Pat we’re going back on in about five minutes if you want to sit in with us.”

“Thanks, Warren. I need to warm up a little.”

Pat realized he often didn’t practice as much as he would like. He stuck a mute in the horn and walked over in the corner and started playing some scales. He promised himself he would try to get back into his daily practice routine. He’d spent a fortune soundproofing one of his extra bedrooms, and it was a great escape from the NYPD. He walked onto the bandstand, and they kicked off “The Bourbon Street Parade.”

Chapter 29

Friday, February 4 - Day 17

Chief of Detectives’ Office - One Police Plaza

Borough of Manhattan, New York

0845 Hours

P
at O’Connor knew of Inspector Phillip Beck, but had never worked with him. Beck was now a uniformed Inspector, who was being considered for promotion to Assistant Chief. Pat knew Beck would be worried about anything that might hurt his chances for promotion. He also knew he had to ask Beck some tough questions about his handling of the Butelli case.

Beck was about 15 minutes early. Angie Wilson came into Pat’s office at 0845 and told him that Inspector Beck was waiting. Pat told her he would be with him in a few minutes, as he waited for Bryan Flannery to arrive. Bryan arrived in about five minutes and Pat told Angie to send the Inspector back.

Phil Beck was wearing his dress blues and presented a sharp, military-like appearance. He had a long row of commendation ribbons above his inspector’s shield. Pat and Bryan stood up and offered him a seat at the conference table. It was obvious Beck was in good physical shape and looked somewhat younger than his 52 years. Pat did most of the talking.

“Inspector, this is Captain Bryan Flannery from the Manhattan North Homicide Unit currently assigned to this office to look at an old case involving a retiree. His name was Forrest
Butelli, and he was found dead in Central Park when you were a captain in Manhattan South Homicide.”

“Yes sir, Chief. It was a suicide, if I remember correctly. He blew his brains out in a car.”

“It was classified as a suicide. Please tell me why you felt it was a suicide, Inspector.”

“I think he left a note, didn’t he?”

“Yes. There was a note, but what part of the investigation led you to conclude this was a suicide?”

“I really didn’t have much to do with it, Chief. It was some gumshoe retired off the job, who couldn’t take it anymore. It’s not like that doesn’t happen after you pull the pin. Some guys just can’t cope with the changes.”

“Allow me to read something to you, Inspector.
‘Dear Mrs. Butelli, I have received your recent letter and numerous phone calls to this office. I am sorry that you are not satisfied with the work of my detectives in the investigation of the death of your husband. We have discussed this case with the office of the Chief Medical Examiner of the City of New York, and the case has been ruled a suicide. After a careful personal review of this case, I have found no issues to support any other logical conclusion.’ It was signed Captain Phillip Beck, Commanding Officer Manhattan South Homicide.”

“Well, you know, Chief, you can’t get these families to accept that the old man whacked himself, and they’re a pain in the ass. You try to do something to shut them up and just get them out of your hair. You know how busy Manhattan South Homicide can be.”

“Yes. I’m sure you know that I was also once the Manhattan South Homicide Commander.” Pat reminded him.

“Yes sir, Chief.”

“So let me ask you this, Inspector. Did you review the case at all?”

“Absolutely. You know I made sure all the key bases were covered.”

“What would you call key bases, Inspector?” Pat asked.

“You know, the suicide note, ME’s report and the usual stuff.”

“Did the case have any ballistics work completed on the alleged suicide weapon?”

“I’m sure that would’ve been done.”

“It was not!” Pat said emphatically.

“This was a retired cop. Was there an autopsy done?”

“I really don’t remember, Chief.”

“There was not!”

“Did the slug recovered from the car match Butelli’s revolver?”

“Tell me it did.” Beck said with obvious frustration.

“It did not!”

“We had lots of cases in the unit and we just couldn’t spend much time on the suicides, because we had real homicide cases to work.  Come on, Chief, this was a long time ago. I hate to bring this up, but I’m up for promotion to Assistant Chief, and I really don’t need this right now. I’m sorry I didn’t give
Butelli’s old lady more attention, but I’ve heard it so many times before. Can’t we just let this one slide? I promise you, I’m loyal to this department.”

“In all likelihood, Inspector, you let a homicide slip through the cracks. Not only that, you lied to
Butelli’s family and told them you had personally reviewed this case. You had them and Butelli’s friends snowed, because they believed in the integrity and abilities of the New York City Police Department. They accepted it, because they’re also loyal to this department. It went away, just like you wanted. However, it has reared its ugly head, and this falls in my lap now. I’m disgusted by the way you handled this case, and I feel it’s nothing short of incompetence, if not out and out dereliction of duty.”

“Please, Chief! It’s been over 10 years.”

“Tell that to Margaret Butelli and her two daughters, who were led to believe by the NYPD that her husband and their father was mentally ill. Forrest Butelli was a fine detective. He was respected by many people in this department. This department, under your command, let him down by the way this investigation was handled.”

“Captain Flannery, please, can you ask the Chief to cut me some slack? This is ridiculous.”

“I’m just as disappointed as the Chief of Detectives.” Bryan responded.

Pat was silent for a few minutes.

“I’m ordering you not to discuss this investigation with anyone. Don’t try any damage control. I can’t tell you how this will come out, but you should take a look at your options. It’s not my desire or intention to embarrass or humiliate you over this, but I have a job to do. Thank you for your time, Inspector.”

Phil Beck walked out of the office as white as a sheet. He didn’t say a word. Bryan Flannery remained silent and expressionless. Finally after about 30 seconds, he spoke.

“You busted his balls, Chief.”

“He let us down big time on this one, Bryan. I just hope there aren’t more cases out there like this one.”

“Sometimes, guys take shortcuts. It happens every day, Chief.”

“I hope not, at least not in these death cases. The NYPD can’t support that.”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong. I agree 100 percent, but we get numbers-driven and some commanders just don’t always play by the same rules.”

“I’m not about numbers, Bryan. I’m about justice!”

Chapter 30

Friday, February 4 - Day 17

Chief of Detectives’ Office - One Police Plaza

Borough of Manhattan, New York

1030 Hours

P
at completed some of the endless administrative paperwork, signing transfer requests and approving some training requests from senior detective commanders. It was always a challenge to keep up with the paperwork. Along with endless meetings, this was the hardest part of the job. He had delegated many meetings to subordinates and tried to attend only the required meetings or ones he needed to attend. He was interrupted by his desk phone ringing.

“Pat O’Connor.”

“Good morning, Chief. This is Ed Cooper in Washington.”

“Good morning, Doc. How are you?”

“I’m fine, and I’ve completed my analysis of the instruments Detective Davis sent me.”

“Great. I’m very interested in your opinion.”

“It’s important to understand how this instrument was developed, Chief. I studied over 1,000 confirmed suicide cases and looked for common traits and behavioral patterns of the victims. My desire was to use these dynamics to create a psychological profile of people who have taken their own life. It’s not perfect or exact, but looks at things such as underlying emotional triggers, financial and physical health issues, and mental health issues. These factors are given numerical value based on the frequency of occurrence in the cases studied. We end up with a 100 point scale of likelihood a person committed suicide. I’m still tweaking it, but it seems helpful.”