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Authors: K. C. Constantine

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“Not sure about the time. Mercury light on the corner in front of Mr. Buczyk’s house hadn’t come on yet. But there’s two big
maple trees in front of his house, so maybe I just didn’t see it if it was on. But I’m sure by that time—no, I didn’t turn
on my MagLite till I saw somethin’ movin’ between the houses. I saw Nick Scavelli’s face—well I didn’t know it was him until
I—wait a second, I’m wrong. Boo showed up before that—before I saw Mr. Scavelli. Patrolman Robert Canoza showed up to back
me up, and he parked front-to-front with my MU across the street. He got out, he came toward me, asked me what was up, and
that’s when I saw Mr. Scavelli’s face. So I had to turn my flash on, and I remember runnin’ around—out in the street around
Mr. Buczyk’s minivan, his Plymouth. And uh, I, uh, shined my light on Mr. Scavelli and then I heard his wife sayin’ something,
and I shined it on her so I knew she was there too.”

“Why’re you sayin’ it that way? You knew she was there too. She had to be mere if you shined your flash on her.”

“No, I know that sounds stupid, but I, uh, I already had one incident with them. Earlier. Mostly with him, Mr. Scavelli. Nothin’
with her. And the Hlebecs. Uh, who live next door to him on Franklin Street. In fact, as I said before, I’d just finished
fillin’ out the UIR on that incident when I got called to respond to 214 Jefferson. And I’ve had way way too much, uh, well
… I have myelf taken Mr. Scavelli to Mental Health three times in the past five and a half, six years. They keep him for the
max permissible, uh, thirty days, and then he comes out, stays cool for a while, and then he, uh, he goes trippin’ off to
wherever he goes trippin’ off to.”

“This incident with Mr. Scavelli and Mr. Hlebec, would you describe that briefly? It’s been reported by numerous witnesses
you drew your service pistol and pointed it at both of them at various times, is that correct?”

“Correct. Yes. And I warned them that if they didn’t shut up and get back in their residence, I would arrest them all. Well,
I was drivin’ by Mr. Scavelli’s house. I’d just responded to an incident there the night before, April 15th. These people,
I mean, the Scavellis and the Hlebecs, they been neighbors for twenty years, maybe longer, and this guy, Mr. Scavelli, he
just goes off, starts harassin’ ’em. Not just them, everybody on that block. But he’s got it in for the Hlebecs ’cause he
thinks it’s their dog that craps in his yard.

“Comes outta his house with a hair-dryer, blow-dryer, sits in his truck, points it at cars goin’ by, then he writes ’em up
in his notebooks, wants me to arrest ’em. Points it at people walkin’, does the same stuff, wants me to arrest them. And he
does this kinda stuff to the Hlebecs couple times a week. Most of the time they ignore him, but April 15th, somebody smeared
dog crap all over their doorknobs, and they accused him. So I thought I was gonna have to arrest ’em all that night, but finally
I got ’em all cooled out, no arrests, no citations, got ’em back inside their houses, and then, April 16th, I’m drivin’ by,
routine patrol, and I see Mr. Scavelli with a shovel headin’ for the Hlebecs’ front porch. So I stopped him.

“And then Mr. Hlebec came home and they started in on one another. Then Mrs. Hlebec came home, and the only way I could get
’em cooled out and inside was to draw my piece and threaten ’em all with arrest. So apparently a lotta people came outta their
houses and called the station, said I was wavin’ my piece around. Which I wasn’t doin’. I was in control, I knew what I was
doin’, I knew what I was sayin’, but it was very, uh, frustrating, you know? Tryin’ to get so-called grown-ups to quit actin’
like kids. And Mr. Scavelli, he’s done this sorta thing with every member of the department at one time or another, well,
maybe not every member, I haven’t taken a poll or anything. But the man’s famous for this kinda stuff. Am I exaggeratin’ this?
You two been in this department way longer’n I have, am I exaggeratin’ any of this?”

“Not as far as I’m concerned,” Nowicki said. “I went to that address many times myself. Took him to Mental Health once, had
to testify at his competency hearing.”

“I never took him to Mental Health,” Carlucci said, “but I went to their address when I was a patrolman and they lived up
on the hill, in Norwood. At least twice. You’re not exaggeratin’, not from my experience. So, uh, you saw him. On the 16th
I’m talkin’ about now? Correct? You turned your flash on ’em, you knew they were both there, then what?”

“Then, the next thing I know, Boo, Patrolman Canoza, he’s standin’ next to me—but first I confronted them. I went between
the houses and told ’em get outta there, go home. Then Canoza’s there.”

“And?”

”And I said what’re you doin’ here? To Canoza. Who’s watchin’ them? Meanin’ Mr. Hornyak and Mr. Buczyk. And he said somethin’
about they weren’t doin’ anything, and I turned around and went hustlin’ back out to the sidewalk where they were. And just
as I get there, Mr. Hornyak is kickin’ Mr. Buczyk in the leg. The right one. And then he kicked him in the other leg.”

“Which leg was he kickin’ with?”

“His right one. And Mr. Buczyk goes down, and I jumped over him and swung my MagLite with both hands and, uh, I hit Mr. Hornyak
in the left shoulder, not sure exactly where.”

“Thought last time you said he went runnin’ backwards to the other side of his house.”

“Yeah. He did. And I was right after him. That’s when I hit him.”

“So he’s now between his house and the Buczyks’ house—is that what you’re sayin’? Between 214 and 212?”

“Yeah. Correct.”

“And what happened then?”

“I was tellin’ him get down, get on the ground, and he was just hoppin’ around, holdin’ his shoulder, cussin’ me out, sayin’I
broke his shoulder, or collarbone. And then I heard Boo scream, Patrolman Canoza, and I’m tellin’ Mr. Hornyak to get on the
ground, and he’s still hoppin’ around, shufflin’ around in, like, uh, half-circles, and the next thing I see, uh, I see Patrolman
Canoza, he’s carryin’ Mrs. Scavelli over his shoulder to his MU.”

“How’s he carryin’ her? Describe it exactly as you remember it.”

“Uh, he’s got his arm, his right arm around her knees and she’s kinda slung over his right shoulder.”

“Was she moving?”

“No. She … I’m not sure. She looked kinda limp.”

“Was she saying anything?”

“No. Definitely no. She was not sayin’ anything.”

“But you’re not sure whether she was movin’, huh?”

“No. I mean her arms were movin’, but I think that was from how Patrolman Canoza, was, uh, well, he was sorta staggerin’,
and her arms were, uh, they were sorta swingin’. Limp.”

“And then what?”

“Well you gotta remember I was tryin’ to watch him and watch those other two, so my head was goin’ back and forth real fast,
and then I see Patrolman Canoza set her down on the trunk of his MU, and she falls back and I hear her head hit the trunk,
you know, with this hollow kinda whump noise. And that’s when I see this thing stickin’ outta his, uh, like right below his
neck and to the right a little bit. Had this kinda greenish handle, but it was in a, uh, a goofy angle.”

“Goofy how?”

“I don’t know how to explain it exactly—I mean I didn’t see it till later when I was holdin’ him, but then was when I stuck
my flash under my right armpit—no no, before that I’d drawn my piece. Oh wait a second, no—shit, before that I already fired
the first shot I think. See this happened so fast I’m almost … it’s like it was all hap-penin’ together.”

“Take your time, take your time, we ain’t goin’ anyplace here,” Carlucci said. “I know it happened fast. Try to break it down,
close your eyes, visualize it in slow motion if you can.”

“Yeah. Well. I don’t know if I can do that,” Rayford said, closing his eyes, licking his lips, inhaling deeply, and sighing.
“Okay. Lemme try. I had my piece in my right hand. Had my light in my left. Hornyak was back on the grass between his house
and 212. He wouldn’t get down. I kept shoutin’ at him get down, get down. He just kept cussin’ me. He was holdin’ his shoulder.
His left shoulder. And it looked to me like he was comin’ closer. So I fired. Fired into the grass. On purpose. Missed him
by a foot to the left of his right knee. He called me a nigger bastard. Right then, that’s when I heard Boo scream, and I
started shoutin’ at him, you know, Boo, what happened, what happened, say somethin’, and then he came out from between 216
and 214 with her over his shoulder, Mrs. Scavelli. Over his right shoulder he had her. No. His left.

“And after he set her down on his trunk, and I saw the thing stickin’ in the top of his back, that’s when I put my flash under
my right armpit to turn on my radio and call 10–47, officer needs assistance, officer down, I don’t remember what I said exactly—”

“You said all of that,” Nowicki said. “It’s on the tape.”

“Yeah. Well when I was doin’ that, and my flash was under my right armpit, I lost sight of Mr. Hornyak. I mean my flash, the
beam was kinda goin’ off to the left, and by this time it was dark and for just a split second there, I didn’t know for sure
where he was. So when I got the flash in my left hand again, it looked to me like he was way closer to me. And he was definitely
movin’ toward me. So I didn’t hesitate. I fired. Leveled on his knee and fired.”

“Then what?”

“Uh, well, he started hoppin’ on his other leg, he was screamin’, he was hoppin’ backwards, and, uh, then he fell back, straight
down on his, uh, his butt, his tailbone. His head bounced.”

“He says it didn’t happen that way.”

“Hey. He can say whatever he wants. That’s the way I remember it.”

“He’s sayin’ you never told him to get on the ground—”

“Oh that’s bullshit. And I don’t care whether the people goin’ hear this tape like swearin’ or not. There’s only one word
for him sayin’ that, and that’s bullshit. I told him get down six, eight times at least. Told him get on the ground. Fired
that warnin’ shot. Told him he didn’t get down I was goin’ put the next one in his knee. There’s maybe nobody saw me fire
that second one, but Buczyk was there. He heard me. He had to hear me. I know he heard me, ’cause he wasn’t layin’ three,
four, five steps at the most away from me—and I was yellin’. So what’s he sayin’, Buczyk? He sayin’ I didn’t tell Hornyak
get down? And those other people, the ones ran inside after the first shot, they sayin’ they didn’t hear me yellin’ get down?
Before the first shot? Or before the second one? I ain’t buyin’ that, no way.”

“Just tellin’ you what he said, Patrolman,” Nowicki said. “Didn’t say anything about what they said.”

“Well you said you both interviewed everybody twice, so what’s Buczyk sayin’? One thing I know—if I don’t know anything else—is
he didn’t run inside after the first shot. He was on his back, he was facin’ the other way, away from me, but the man wasn’t
three, four steps away from me at the most. And I know he can hear. ’Cause after the first 47 came, and Patrolman Reseta and
me was goin’ go grab up Mr. Scavelli, I told him turn over and I cuffed him. He didn’t have any trouble hearin’ me then, and
I wasn’t shoutin’ when I told him turn over. So what’d he say?”

“We’ll get to that later.”

“Wait wait wait, what do you mean we’ll get to that later? You sayin’ he’s sayin’ somethin’ else? Different from what I’m
sayin’?”

“I’m not sayin’ that, William,” Nowicki said, “I just think we got other things to cover here.”

“Hey, I’m sure you do. But every so often here, I’m startin’ to get the feelin’ there’s some bad vibes goin’ around, like
maybe I didn’t do a righteous shooting. Just remember I had a backup, I wasn’t there by my lonesome. Boo was there. You tellin’
me Boo’s sayin’ something else?”

“Well, see, Canoza’s got his own problem.”

“Wait. What’s that mean, got his own problem?”

Nowicki motioned for Carlucci to turn his recorder off again, which Carlucci did.

“You were the one reported her to Detective Carlucci. You said, uh, she—she bein’ Mrs. Scavelli—she had no pulse, no respiration,
and had emptied her bowels was I think how you put it, am I right, Detective?”

“Right.”

“So I talked with the coroner this morning, and all he can determine is she died of a cerebral hemorrhage, but she’s got this
bump on the back of her head, and you’re the one said you heard her head hit the trunk after you saw Boo set her down, right?”

“Right. That’s what I said. So Boo got a problem from that?”

“We all got a problem from that. Coroner says it’s chicken and egg, he can’t tell whether the bump caused the hemorrhage or
whether she had the hemorrhage before she got the bump. Plus, remember that reporter and that photographer you told to stay
away from the scene?”

“Yeah. From the
Gazette
. But I didn’t tell ’em stay away from the scene, I told ’em they couldn’t talk to anybody until they cleared it with Rugs.
He just got through tellin’ me it was a crime scene, told me get the tape up, secure the scene, and that’s what I did.”

“Well maybe he didn’t like the way you said it, I don’t know. But apparently, after the first story, when Canoza’s mug shot
was on page one, he got some calls from a couple old ladies, this reporter. One in particular, who had what she considered
was a very nasty encounter with Boo when he was poppin’ a lock on her car. So since then he’s been playin’ this angle, you
know, Mrs, Scavelli was an old lady and Boo was the officer involved, insinuatin’ and implyin’ that Boo maybe got some kinda
head problem with old ladies—”

“Aw that’s just bullshit.”

“I know it’s bullshit,” Nowicki said. “But the DA called me and said he got called by the president of the local chapter of
the AARP. They wanna make sure he isn’t blowin’ this off. They want him investigatin’ Boo for these other complaints, and
they want a full and complete investigation into the death of you know who.”

“Full and complete,” Rugs snorted. “Like they would know.”

“Hey, Rugs, don’t be takin’ that attitude. We don’t take this shit seriously, we’re in trouble, I’m tellin’ ya. Far as I’m
concerned, the coroner could not’ve come back with a worse ruling. Now nobody’s gonna be able to say what happened. And these
geezers, hey, they think somebody’s fuckin’ with ’em, they start makin’ calls, writin’ letters, showin’ up at the council
meetings, they’ll start bustin’ everybody’s balls. And the DA, don’t think he doesn’t know who votes. I guarantee every time
a geezer calls him about this and wants to bitch, he’ll take the call, don’t think he won’t.”

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