The Blue Executions (38 page)

*

George Lambert returned to the precinct from the district surgeon’s office shortly after noon.  The rumor was that transfers to the detective squad were to come down today.  Having been out sick for nearly
two months with a broken eye socket and a concussion at the hands of the Black Panthers, today’s visit to the department doctor had been of paramount importance to Lambert.  Department policy dictated that any member of the service out on sick leave, or limited duty could not be transferred to the detective squad.  It hadn’t been a tough sell to get put back to full duty.  The surgeons often seemed to rush cops back to full duty status even before they were medically ready, no doubt at the department’s urging to help solve the dwindling numbers of cops on patrol. 

Before even stepping outside of the Medical Division, Lambert had called the lieutenant in charge of career path transfers and faxed over his change in duty status form.  Lambert knew
that there was nothing more that he could do other than wait and hope.  He knew his old Anti-Crime partner, Tommy Galvin, had put in a good word for him with the precinct squad commander, Lieutenant Thompson.

Thompson had even assured both he and Galvin that he would do everything in his power to request Lambert be transferred upstairs to the detective squad.  Unfortunately, Lambert also knew how the job worked.  It wasn’t always the hardest working, or most deserving cop who got promoted—it was often the one who had the biggest
hook. 
A phone call made from a high rank in someone favors often
out hooked
even the most deserving cop.

The reality of the situation was the most frustrating for Lambert.  In his heart, he knew that he deserved the spot more than anyone else in the precinct.  But if he did get passed over it would be a long time before he’d have another shot.  The department sometimes goes years at a time without transferring
white shields
up to the squad.  Most transfers to detective squads come from other detective squads where those transferred in, already has the gold shield of a detective.

As Lambert was reporting back to the desk officer for his post change back from medical division, Eddie Dwyer walked in from court.  Lambert
knew Dwyer had a lot riding on the transfer as well.  The precinct’s commanding officer had assigned Dwyer temporarily to the Anti-Crime team while Lambert was out sick.  The assignment was promised to be made permanent if Lambert went upstairs.

Dwyer seemed genuinely pleased when he saw Lambert.  “Hey George, how are you feeling?”

“Much better Eddie, thanks.”

Lambert offered an open right hand.  Dwyer’s own hand came in like a windmill; the sound of the two hands echoed
; a loud clap.  Dwyer held the clasp tightly and pulled Lambert in for a hug.

“I saw on the roll call this morning that you were reporting direct to the surgeon.  What’d he say?”

Lambert knew Dwyer had a vested interest and decided to mess with him.  “Two weeks of limited duty.”

Dwyer’s face went pale, void of expression.  Lambert burst into laughter.  “I’m only messing with you dude.  I’m back to full duty.”

Dwyer laughed as well and gave Lambert a playful shove.  “Jackass!”

Both men began to walk towards the stairwell leading to the police officers lounge when Lambert felt a vibration on his belt.  Removing his cell phone from its holder, he read the text message sent by Tommy Galvin.

Hey Georgie, I hope everything went well at the surgeon’s this morning.  I was at the precinct earlier and Lieutenant Thompson thinks you are definitely going to get the spot if the surgeon puts you back to full duty.  Oh and by the way, look for me on the six o’clock news tonight.  I’m on my way to lock up the Blue Executioner. 

He handed his phone to Eddie Dwyer so
that he too could read the text message.  Dwyer paraphrased the message.  “Oh and by the way I’m going to lock up a serial killer?  Is he kidding?”

Lambert shook his head.  “I doubt it Eddie.  One thing about Tommy is
that he takes his police work very seriously.  In all the years that I’ve worked with him, I’ve never seen him make a joke of something so serious.  Especially since this guy was after him, I can’t see it being a joke.  He must know who the guy is.”

Dwyer shook his head incredulity.  “He said it like he was going to pick up a quart of milk or something.  I’d be calling everyone I know.”

“Not only is Tommy the best cop I’ve ever seen Eddie, but he is also about the most humble guy you’d ever want to work with.  I’ve never seen a guy to do so much and yet say so little.”

Just as they started to ascend the stairs, the
SP9 operator
called out.  “George, a Finest message just came down.”

Lambert and Dwyer stopped dead in their tracks.  They looked at each other momentarily.
  Lambert tilted his head slightly, “Wish me luck.”

The cop assigned to be the SP9 computer operator for the day tour was standing
, holding out a computer print out in Lambert’s direction.  Trying to read the cop’s expression, Lambert was unable to sense whether it was good news or bad.  He could feel his heart begin to race a bit faster as he accepted the printout; Dwyer reading over his shoulder, probably just as anxious.  Lambert scanned the report until he came towards the bottom of the printout.

Effective 0001 hrs Monday Aug 19, 2013 PO George Lambert from 113 pct to 113 PDU

Eddie Dwyer slapped Lambert on the back.  “Congrats George!”

The Sp9 operator now had a
mischievous grin on his face as well and offered his hand.  The word spread quickly to the other officers currently in the precinct as they all came by to offer their best wishes.  Lambert was elated.  As soon as he had the opportunity, he called his wife to give her the good news.  The next phone call he would make would be as promised, to his longtime partner, Tommy Galvin.

*

Dempsey’s warning had come too late —Tommy Galvin was less than a foot away from Underhill.  Galvin raised a closed fist above his head when he first saw the revolver in Underhill’s hand.  A feeling of panic flashed over him as there was little time to do anything; other than react.  The revolver swung in his direction as he did his best to fend it off.  Then the shot was fired and then there was nothing…total darkness. 

*

Dempsey reached the altercation a split second after the shot rang out.  He leapt forward over a slouched Tommy Galvin with his two hands leading the way.  He grabbed the gun by the cylinder, making it incapable of firing a second time as the bodies of the three men tumbled and crashed against the wall of the apartment.  Some items from the shelf above—including an empty soda can—rained down on top of the struggling men.

As Galvin lay across Underhill’s body pinning him down, Dempsey took both hands, smashing Underhill’s hand against the hard wood floor.  He repeated this four times until the gun sprang from Underhill’s grip, skidding a good five feet from the pile
across the wooden floor.

“Tommy, are you okay?”

It was then when Dempsey first saw Tommy Galvin’s blood on the floor.  “Tommy!?”

He didn’t respond.

*

The gunshot had resonated like a shockwave through Galvin’s body.  He had been temporarily blinded by the muzzle flash as the gun was fired when it was only inches from his face.  The shock of the situation and the chaos of the last few seconds blinded not only Galvin’s sight but also his sense of pain as he hadn’t even realized
that he had been grazed in the forehead by the bullet.

He heard the muffled sound—almost as if he were under water—of Dempsey calling his name.  Galvin’s first priority was to make sure
that he gained control over Underhill, which he did.  Once Underhill had been disarmed, he no longer struggled.  Underhill remained still and then began to weep.

“I’m fine Uncle Pat.”

Galvin looked down to see the small pool of blood which began to form on the floor.  He began to once again become aware of his senses.  He felt the semi-steady flow of blood trickle down the side of his face before pooling on the floor; his left ear was ringing something awful and he could now feel a bit of pain to his forehead.  “You okay?”

Dempsey assured him that he was also okay.  Galvin looked down at the broken man and hated him.  He had yet to be cuffed and Galvin really wanted him to pay for what he had done.  He needed to pay for
Daniel Long.  He needed to pay for Chris Tatum.  He needed to pay for Frank Garrett.  But most of all, he needed to pay for Laurie.  Galvin seriously wanted to beat the man unconscious but he couldn’t do that.  He would not act above the law.  Underhill would pay for his actions, just not at the hands of Galvin; he would answer his crimes to a judge and jury.

*

Pat Dempsey recognized the pained look on Galvin’s face.  He knew Galvin’s emotions were conflicting within him and he was proud to see him roll Underhill over on his stomach and reach for his handcuffs rather than an object to strike Underhill with.  Dempsey took a step closer to Galvin and reached at his rear waist band; dangling from his belt was a familiar sight.  Dempsey saw the handcuffs, adorned with a shamrock which he had personally etched into them over two decades earlier.  With a slight yank, Dempsey withdrew them and presented them to Galvin.  “This is a collar worthy of your dad’s cuffs Tommy.” 

Galvin looked up with an approving nod and placed the cuffs on Underhill’s wrists as Dempsey retrieved the gun from the floor.  Holding it up for Galvin’s inspection, “the barrel’s been sawed off.  That’s why they never had any ballistic fingerprints.”

Dempsey laughed.  “I bet this drove Chief Courtney crazy.”

Once Underhill was secure and the gun was recovered, Dempsey handed Galvin a towel that he retrieved from the bathroom.  “Here, hold this against your head, see if we can’t stop the bleeding until we can get you patched up.”

Galvin complied.  Underhill sat on the floor of his apartment in what could only be described as stunned silence.  Galvin’s phone rang.  Dempsey looked at Galvin as he held the phone to his right ear.  “Hello.”

After a brief pause, “That’s great George.  I told you that you’d get the spot.  I’m proud of you.”

Galvin was nodding his head as he walked around Underhill’s apartment.  He looked down at the killer who sat rear cuffed against the wall.  His head rest on his knees, which were tucked against his body.  Underhill was motionless; completely void of expression.  Galvin glanced around the apartment.  It was immaculate—everything in its proper place, save for a single piece of paper on the kitchen table.  Galvin picked up the handwritten note and motioned for Dempsey to came and take a look.  Underhill looked up at Galvin as he picked the letter up.  Their eyes met briefly before Underhill disengaged and hung his head back on his knees.

“Listen George, I’m so proud of you.  Congrats!  I have to cut you short though I’m sort of in the middle of something.”

Galvin hung up the phone.  He was so happy for his partner that he decided not to tell him what was going on for fear that it would take away from Lambert’s excitement regarding his promotion.

Dempsey walked over and glanced at the letter. 
“This is better than a confession.”

Dempsey pointed to Galvin’s phone.  “I guess you didn’t think to tell your old partner that you were just shot and apprehended a serial killer huh?”

Galvin shrugged his shoulders and offered half a smile.  “I’ll tell him later.”

Dempsey laughed.  “That reminds me, I have to call the office.”

Dempsey took his cell phone from his pocket and placed the call.  “Hey Lieu, it’s Dempsey.  I wanted to see if you had someone take that lunch order.”

Dempsey smiled at Galvin.  “Good…you’re buying.  Here’s what I need.”

##########################

Chapter 21

Galvin was a bit surprised that he hadn’t needed any stitches—he knew
that the forehead tended to bleed a lot from all of the small capillaries —but he thought his wound had been a bit more serious than just requiring a butterfly bandage.  Still an inch to the left could have been fatal.  Having been assured his ruptured eardrum would heal within a few weeks, Galvin was relieved.  Things could have been far worse.

All in all
, it was a good day.

The two men returned
to the Blue Execution Task Force base from the hospital to a hero’s welcome.  Upon receiving the accolades and handshakes from their co-workers, they were directed to report to the Chief of Department’s office where Chief’s Santoro and Courtney awaited their arrival.

Courtney was the first to speak.  “First off, great work to you both.  How are you feeling Tommy?”

Galvin was not one for self promotion and almost felt awkward at being the center of attention.  “I’m fine Chief, just a scratch.”