CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

"Well, Marcus, it's been a few days, and I've hit nothing but walls trying to tiptoe around my case over here. You guys come up with anything else that you can tell me about?"

"Not much," Marcus said. "We did get a match on Martinez's blood from the failed home invasion over in Queens. But nothing else so far, nothing that ties any of them together."

"Just to play the devil's advocate here," Jimmy said. "Is it possible that they acted independent of each other? That there were two separate attacks on drug dealers, etc., and that neither knew what the other was up to?"

"Sure, it's possible," Marcus replied. "But highly unlikely. Nevertheless, we have a team that is isolated from our main investigation, researching things on their own, and their only objective is to prove our collusion theory wrong."

"Jesus! You guys really put the Investigation in FBI , don't you?"

"That's what they pay us for," Marcus noted.

"Well," Jimmy said. "I have to update the brass at some point today on where I am in the investigation. I swear, I have to report to everyone from the Chief of Police on down."

"Shit," Marcus said. "Maybe there's something else I should tell you."

"I'm not sure if I can take much more good news, Marcus. I've been seriously thinking about looking for a new job in Tahiti or the Bahamas, or anywhere with a beach. So, be careful with anything too explosive."

"Jimmy," Marcus said. "We've got indications that your Assistant Chief of Police may be involved with the same activities as the Bronx detectives. He may be supporting them."

"Whoa," Jimmy asked. "Are you sure? Cause that is a pretty big fucking leap."

"We don't have anything concrete, yet," Marcus said. "But we do have records of multiple phone calls between him and Detective Sergeant Ortiz in the Bronx. Also, the thing that really stood out to us was buried in Martinez's service record. A few months back he submitted an incident report to have a bullet-proof vest replaced."

"Sure," Jimmy said. "Standard operating procedure. Your commanding officer signs off on a report and you take it to the Quartermaster to have it replaced. Sadly, it's a pretty common thing these days."

"Well, Jimmy," Marcus said. "The incident report that Martinez turned in was not signed by his commanding officer. It was signed by the Assistant Chief. And, he turned it in the day after the dealer in Harlem was killed. The two witnesses in that incident said that they thought one of the suspects might have gotten shot in the gunfire exchange with the dealer."

"What the hell, it's like I'm living in an old episode of the Twilight Zone."

"Well, brother," Marcus said. "It gets worse. The Assistant Chief may have been feeding them information about your case. It would explain a great deal, such as how and why Sully Preston was used against you guys so effectively. Jimmy, these guys might have been a step ahead of you the whole time thanks to your Assistant Chief."

"Marcus," Jimmy said slowly. "Tell me that none of this had anything to do with Eva…"

"No, no, no," Marcus quickly said. "That was just a terrible mix of events, brother. I personally tore that whole thing apart, including visiting the scene. I know you don't want to hear it, but she was careless that day. There are no other connections."

"This has been a great conversation, Marcus. Now I don't know who I can trust in the department. Every rock I turn over seems to have a clue that points to other cops doing this shit. And now you tell me that one of the chiefs might be involved. Jesus."

"Easy, pal," Marcus said. "We might be able to take all the pressure off of your back. If we step in, you'll be relieved from the investigation, and then you can go back to chasing bad guys without all of this political bullshit."

"I don't know," Jimmy said. "I just don't know if I can keep going after this. This shield, this job, they mean everything to me. I don't know how much more I can take, how many more people I can deal with that think they're above the law."

"Hang in there, Jimmy. The people who are abusing their power are very close to seeing the real meaning of law enforcement."

It was the lawyer, again. He told Ortiz that they had filed for an injunction with the court to prevent his ex-wife from taking their son out of state. That would keep her here for a little while. But, according to the lawyer, Ortiz was going to have to come up with more funds over the next few weeks if he wanted his case to be successful. They finally had a court date, but they still needed to hire and prepare a few expert witnesses before the court date. And those expert witnesses did not come cheap.

"Rome, look, I need to get some cash," Ortiz said. "Maria is trying to move to California with my son. So, I hired a lawyer to stop her from being able to do that. But, this shit gets expensive. Way more expensive than I ever thought it would be. And that's the reason I asked you to meet me here by yourself."

"That explains some shit," Roman said. "You've been acting kind of funny over the last few weeks. But, now that I know why, things make more sense."

"Rome, I'm hurting here," Ortiz replied. "I got no other way to pay this greedy fucking shark, and now I need him more than ever."

"Look," Roman said. "I got no problem with us, you and me, going out to do a few things on our own. But it's still got to be for the right reason. I don't want to start selling fucking drugs. Tell me we're not going down that road, boss."

"No," Ortiz said. "We're still cops, and we're still working against drugs. But, if I can raise some cash by doing what we were already doing, then I can also take care of this legal shit and get it behind me."

"Boss, I don't care about the money, I just like being able to do my job and seeing some actual results. You can do whatever you want with the cash."

"I really appreciate it, brother," Ortiz said.

"Have you said anything to Hodges about this," Roman asked. "I'm just curious why we're talking alone."

"No, I haven't said anything to him," Ortiz replied. "It's not that I don't trust him. I just think smaller is better for right now."

"That makes sense, boss," Roman agreed. "We can move faster, leave a smaller footprint, and it's harder for two of us to get caught."

"Exactly," Ortiz said. "So, for my next question, is tonight too soon?"

"Too loud, sweetie," Erin asked from across the room. She was curled up on the couch with Mr. Purdles. They were watching Julia Roberts adorably fumble her way through some sort of romantic comedy movie.

"It's fine," Jimmy said from the kitchen table. "You know what, Marcus? It might not be a huge secret within the department. I mean, everyone but me seemed to know that the Chief's wife liked to fool around with younger guys. But how did it take you guys so long to find out that he had a daughter die from an overdose?"

"Because both daughters were from his wife's previous marriage. That's not listed in as many places as you might think. We found it by running a search through old newspaper articles related to the Assistant Chief. Apparently, the wife took his last name at the wedding, but the daughters kept their last name. It was something that we barely caught."

"Well, it's not damning evidence of anything but tragedy," Jimmy said. "However, it certainly explains his obsession with anti-drug programs, drug arrests, etc. And why he might have something to do with those detectives in the Bronx."

"That's another interesting thing," Marcus said. "All four of those detectives served in combat roles before joining the NYPD. Sound familiar? Plus, they've all lost a close family member to some sort of drug related incident."

"Sure, I can relate to being in combat," Jimmy said. "And it sucks that they all lost someone to drugs. But suffering a tragic loss does not give someone a license to turn the fucking law upside down."

"Hey, brother," Marcus said. "I'm not defending them. But from a detached point of view, the military experience fits with some previous crime scenes. And the loss of family members could explain their motivation for murder."

"Look, if you guys are building such a case against them, then why haven't you moved in, yet," Jimmy asked. "I mean, on the one hand, if they pull some more bullshit, that's not on you guys at all. But on the other hand, the sooner you guys move in, the more shit you might be able to prevent. Though, if they have just half of a brain between them, they're going to sit tight right now."

"Well," Marcus said. "We haven't moved yet because we haven't got a solid case. When we move against someone, we want enough of a case that it feels like Mount Everest just fell on top of them. And, especially now, that's the case we want here. No way for them to wriggle out of this shit. But, more importantly, why do you think they should sit tight?"

"Because," Jimmy said. "Eva's death pissed off a lot of people besides us. But it was quickly solved. All that anger and energy had to get turned in other directions. Now, the death of that Bronx detective is currently unsolved so it's at the top of everyone's to-do list. If they look like anything but pissed-off cops who are doing their normal job, then they will start drawing attention real quick."

"Shit, Jimmy, that's brilliant," Marcus said. "I don't think anyone gives a damn about what those guys are NOT doing right now. We need to get some people on that, to see if they're acting like anything except pissed-off cops."

Jimmy thought Marcus was mocking him. That changed when he saw Marcus pull out his phone and get up from the table. Then Jimmy just sat there with his mouth hanging open as he heard Marcus talking to his supervisor.

"Yes, sir," Marcus said into his phone. "We need to put eyes on them now. If they are doing anything except trying to figure out who killed their fellow detective, then it's probably because they're doing something that we can use against them. No, sir, I don't ask for these resources lightly. But I believe real-time monitoring is justified at this point. Yes, sir. Immediately. I'm headed into the office right now. Yes, sir. Thank you."

Suddenly, Marcus was pulling his jacket on and patting his pockets as he looked around to see if he was forgetting anything.

"Jesus, Marcus. Was it something that I said?"

"We have budget issues, like anyone else. So, real-time surveillance of targets is not something we turn to unless we can justify an immediate need. And you just gave us an immediate need. We'll know within minutes which direction things are going. Thanks, Jimmy."

"Sure. Any time," Jimmy said, half-amused and half-confused.

"I don't know, boss," Roman said. "We've hit two of these chumps tonight and barely have anything to show for it. Of course, that could have something to do with the fact that they were barely street-level guys."

"Yeah," Ortiz said grimly. "I'm not even close to what I need for that damn lawyer."

"Boss, what the fuck are we doing," Roman asked. "We're not even going to disrupt a phone call, much less disrupt any drug supplies by going after guys like this."

"I don't get it, either," Ortiz said. "There should have been a lot more cash on at least one of them."

"Boss, what in the fuck are you talking about," Roman demanded. "Are we targeting these guys tonight just for cash? I thought we had a mission, thought we were still trying to shut this shit down. Instead, we're just a couple more gangbangers out here robbing the competition."

"Rome, what in the hell do you think we've been all along," Ortiz asked. "We look like fucking criminals tonight because that's all we've been since day one. These might have been small fish tonight, but at least these small fish are serving a bigger purpose, like keeping my kid where he should be."

"Sergeant," Roman pleaded. "We started the other operations in order to stop drugs from coming into the city. But this… This is way the fuck off course, man. What are we accomplishing out here tonight besides killing people for money?"

"What world are you living in, Rome," Ortiz asked. "That's all we've been doing since day one. And we can't have it both ways. We can't say that one level of dealer is right and the other is wrong."

Roman felt the anger rising in him and was just about to reply when the obnoxious disco song began blaring out from the side pocket of his pants. Both men just stood there for a few moments staring at each other.

Ortiz quietly asked Roman, "Are you fucking kidding me?"

Roman's skin was turning cold and clammy even though sweat had started to appear.

"Shit, boss," Roman slowly said. "I completely forgot to leave it at the office tonight. I was so focused on getting back out here and taking care of business that it slipped my mind. Oh, fuck. What do I do now?"

"Throw that fucking thing off the bridge over there and get your ass back to the office. Fill out a fucking form for lost or stolen property and date the fucking thing yesterday. Wait… Did you get any calls today?"

"Yeah, Hodges called me this afternoon. No other calls in or out."

"Great," Ortiz said. "What about text messages?"

"Shit, I've been texting with different people all day."

"Fuck me," Ortiz said. "Well, don't toss the phone now. No way we can explain those messages if your phone was stolen. I guess we just get out of here and hope for the best."