Broken Force, page 23
Deputy Inspector Zakowsky spoke for the first time. “With this cloud of suspicion hanging over him, we should request a court for a wiretap order on his home phone.”
“I’d like to try that,” the captain answered, “as well as put a tail on him. I’m willing to wager he will run right to whomever he’s in league with to warn them about today, that would include Baylor and Tenety.”
Reno made a comment: “If those two guys panic, they’re liable to become more dangerous than they already are. We have to keep our own confidential informant under tight wraps, tighter now than we already have. Detective O’Shea is assigned to stay with him when he’s out of the office or not at home, at least until this case is concluded.”
D.I. Zakowsky said: “Our man Ricardo is somewhat of a loose cannon. He’s liable to go off on his own, hates being penned up.”
“Haven’t the suspects we’re asking about already tried to do him in?” the Internal Affairs captain inquired.
“They’ve gone after him more than once as far as we know, but he’s managed to elude them. He got the better of them in a brawl when they followed him into a men’s room, that’s why they arrested him,” Clara pointed out.
The Deputy added: “Our theory is they’re trying to eliminate him as a witness, if only by discrediting him. Hard man to keep track of though, from all I hear.” He cast a knowing glance at Clara and Reno. “Let’s bring our suspicions to a US Attorney and ask for a wiretap order.” He looked at the IAD supervisor, “We’ll need an affidavit from your office that outlines the background of Vito Penza to help support our request. We want to act before anyone else gets hurt.”
Captain DiRoma said: “We’ll get on that affidavit. Meanwhile we’ll let these jokers run and see where they lead us.”
The group reassembled in the conference room. Penza sat, hands folded on the table, a morose aspect to his demeanor.
The captain restarted the tape recorder, noting the time the questioning resumed.
“Does anyone have further questions of Detective Penza?” He cast his eyes around the table. “There being none, you are free to leave, Detective. Bear in mind you are still under the supervision of the Internal Affairs Division for the time being. We expect a full report of all your activities. Consider carefully whom you meet and obtain official permission before you have further contact with Detectives Baylor and Tenety. In the event they ask to speak to you, notify me immediately. I am concluding this session and turning off the tape recorder.”
At the next court appearance for his assault case, Dante’s Legal Aid attorney, with the acquiescence of the District Attorney, requested an adjournment on the grounds of needing additional time to prepare a defense. The judge granted a one-month delay with an admonition to select a firm date for trial within the near future. Dante gave the lawyer a sketchy outline of the background to his encounter with the two complainants and added that he needed official consent to divulge the exact extent of his role with law enforcement.
“We’ll have to move this soon,” the attorney said. “We don’t want this judge to get impatient with you. Whatever this secret information might be, we’ll have to bring it to the Assistant DA soon.”
Clara accompanied Dante to court, but any conversation between them remained strained. Each bore their own embarrassment in silence and their regret at starting a relationship hovered in the background like a chill haze. When they returned to the Rebound office Reno sensed the estrangement between them but chose not to comment lest he exacerbate the atmosphere of unspoken hostility.
Later in the day, after a brief telephone conversation, Reno called over to Dante, “Put your jacket on, we have a meeting with AUSA McCaffrey. He wants to hear from you concerning your observations of Vito Penza.”
A coordinated effort began to determine the involvement of the suspect detectives and the IAD informant. Reno contacted the local DEA office and requested help in keeping track of the movements of Tenety and Baylor. Since the stolen contraband belonged to a Federal Court case, the Drug Enforcement people agreed to follow the two detectives with teams of agents. Internal Affairs, using a squad of their undercover detectives, began a round-the-clock clandestine surveillance of their field associate. A Federal judge signed an order authorizing electronic scrutiny of the detective-turned-informant but limited its scope to any intercepted conversations that bore directly on the current investigation.
For security reasons, Clara picked Dante up every morning to deliver him to the office and drove him home each evening. Both chafed at the burden of close association imposed on them. Clara suppressed her annoyance at having to act as bodyguard for Dante. Dante in turn, rankled at needing a female protector hovering over him.
Their previous emotional attachment to one another only served to add to their mutual irritation. Each understood, however, that any other arrangement could jeopardize not only Dante’s safety, but the entire investigation as well. Now nearing its closing stages, unless the team achieved some success, Operation Rebound would close without any discernible results. Reno busied himself gathering the intelligence produced by the surveillances on Penza, Baylor and Tenety and trusted Clara to maintain a close rein on Dante.
Some days later, Clara pulled into a parking space near Dante’s brownstone. “I’ll pick you up in the morning, same time as usual.”
Dante reached for the door handle and paused. Screwing up his courage, he turned to Clara.
“I know we’re at odds with each other and I feel terrible about it. I acknowledge that it was my fault. This sitting home by myself every night is killing me. Wouldn’t you just come up for a little while? We could have a drink and something to eat. I promise no monkey business. I could just use the company.”
Clara stared fixedly through the windshield pondering Dante’s request. Her hands gripped the steering wheel. “I’m going home to an empty apartment as well. I’ll consider it on one condition: if you put one finger on me, so help me, I’ll put a bullet in your ear.”
Dante grinned in relief. “A promise is a promise, just friends, okay?”
Clara switched off the ignition and they started up the block toward the brownstone building. Neither one saw the car with two occupants parked further down the block, lights off, engine idling.
Dante began to prepare a light supper while Clara looked around the kitchen as if examining it. “I must say, you keep your place spotless, not bad for a man living alone.”
“Not much else to do now, is there?” Dante replied. “Care for a drink?”
“Thanks, but not when I’m driving.”
“Mind if I have one?”
”Knock yourself out,” she said. “I mean that figuratively, of course.”
“Of course,” Dante said, picking up the spirit of the banter.
Pouring himself a half juice glass of his favorite Scotch, he set out the plates with ham omelets and whole-wheat toast he had prepared. When they began to eat, Dante glanced across the table at her. “I’m having a brainstorm, an idea to perhaps move Rebound off the dime.”
“What brainstorm is that?” Clara asked.
“Those two detectives that arrested me…”
“Baylor and Tenety, you mean?”
“They don’t know what you look like, do they?”
“No, I don’t suppose they do.”
Dante swallowed another mouthful of omelet and continued: “Suppose we feed them a false lead about a drug dealer in from out of town with a kilo of smack to sell.”
“You mean me?”
“Yes, you,” Dante answered.
“How would we feed them this information?”
Dante responded quickly: “How about our friend Penza? We figure out a way to tip him off. I’ll bet he goes right to that team. We’ll make it sound alluring. Drop a hint that the dealer is a hot babe from Chicago.”
“I’m supposed to be the hot babe?”
“I don’t mean to be flip, but you can see where a clandestine tip from a street informant…”
“Excuse me for interrupting,” Clara said. “But wouldn’t that assume that Penza doesn’t play it straight but gives it directly to his supervisor for assignment? Don’t forget, he’s a scared rabbit right now. We’d have to funnel a story like that directly to our two suspects, see if they bite.”
“Yes, you’re right. We’re assuming Penza is in league with the two creeps. He may be too shaky to step out of line and might give the lead to a boss for proper action.”
“It’s a thought, though,” Clara mused.
Dante smiled, “You’ve been undercover before, you’d be a natural.”
“Yeah and almost took a bullet for it, too.”
“You could wear a strategically placed transmitter. They wouldn’t dare try to find out if you were wired. If they did, it would be a reason for immediate and decisive action on your part, if you get my meaning.”
“You’ve got it all planned, haven’t you,” Clara said with a sardonic grin.
Dante ignored the jibe. “You’d need back-up. It couldn’t be me, I’d be unarmed,” he said, keeping his possession of a firearm a closely guarded secret.
“Maybe we could borrow a few DEA people. This would take a lot of planning,” Clara mused.
“We’d better run the idea past Reno. He’d have to take it up with D.I. Zakowsky.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Reno brought the plan devised by Dante to ensnare the two rogue detectives to his commanding officer. D.I. Zakowsky approved the idea. He made contact with Drug Enforcement to provide back-up and technical assistance to fit Clara with a small microphone that they could monitor from their bakery van. A DEA supervisor suggested using one of their own informants to make contact with Baylor and Tenety to tell them that an out-of-town drug trafficker had sent a courier to New York to establish a new market for his narcotics. The informant could give as a reason for the tip-off to the police, his bosses anger at an attempt to muscle in on territory he considered his sole province.
The informant found the two suspects at O’Malley’s bar and provided the time, date and location of a planned sale to take place, together with a description of the courier: an attractive woman, mid-thirties, with dark blond hair. According to the informant, the two detectives could expect her to carry a substantial quantity of heroin in a shoulder bag. He’ll say that he heard that a buyer had scheduled the time and place to meet her and purchase the contraband. To make his story sound convincing, the informant would ask the two detectives for a share of the heroin that they seized as compensation for his tip-off.
The two targets of the investigation became immediately suspicious, “We want to know how you found us and why you came to us in the first place.”
“I’m from Paulie Di DiGiorgo’s crew. I heard you guys did some good business with him before. Paulie don’t want no outsiders musclin’ on his turf.”
“Paulie sent you?” Baylor asked, still not convinced of the tipster’s bona fides.
“He didn’t exactly send me, you know. I just heard about you two and thought I could score some of the dope you get if all this pans out the right way. Besides, Paulie would appreciate this was handled without too much upset.”
“He doesn’t know you’re here?” Baylor pressed.
“Well, not exactly…”
“If this is straight info, how do we get in touch after?” Tenety asked.
“No, I’ll get in contact wit’ you, after it goes down the way I said. I know where to find you.”
After a brief meeting with D.I. Zakowsky, the Federal Drug Agency agreed to a plan that might solve the disappearance of the huge amount of contraband stolen from the Police Department. Although evidence in a Federal prosecution, the Police Property Clerk’s Office had the appropriate storage space to house the 100 kilos seized by the Narcotics detectives some months earlier. Since it remained Federal evidence, the DEA had a keen interest in either recovering the heroin or arresting the thieves. Working together, the Police Commissioner’s Squad, led by the Rebound team, and the Federal agents devised a joint operation.
Detective O’Shea became the designated operative to pose as the courier the rogue detectives would try to victimize. They gave Clara a cellophane bag of a white powder to simulate a quantity of heroin and some random amount of cash close to $5,000 as bait to ensnare the suspects. If they confiscated the money and the phony narcotics without attempting to make an arrest, the agents would take them into custody.
The DEA supervising agent selected a restaurant on 23rd Street that had a back room used for private dinners. The owner owed the government agents a favor for keeping him out of a drug bust that had taken place in his premises. The alley behind the restaurant provided a place to park the bakery van close enough to pick up transmissions from the Kel microphone a female agent secreted in Clara’s bra. The agents could achieve quick access through a rear door should the confrontation with the two detectives became threatening to Clara’s safety. A second team stationed themselves in front in an unmarked car to make the arrest when, if the plan went as hoped, the detectives would seize Clara’s shoulder bag with the planted evidence and try to leave the restaurant. Reno awaited the outcome in the back seat of the Federal agents’ automobile.
Because Dante could positively identify the suspect detectives, the team asked the restaurant manager to provide a vantage point from which he could observe the transaction. The manager suggested using the small window on the kitchen door. Restaurant wait staff moved briskly through the area with trays of food for patrons and back to the kitchen with dirty dishes. The agents in the bakery van tested Clara’s Kel transmitter for audibility. She then occupied a seat in a booth easily observable from the kitchen from which Dante could see her. Everyone awaited the arrival of the two targets of the sting operation.
They arrived fifteen minutes late for the scheduled rendezvous. Heading directly for the small reception room where Clara waited. The manager asked them if he could assist them. When they said they had arranged a meeting with someone in the back, he directed them to Clara’s booth.
Baylor slid into the booth opposite the woman detective while his partner stood apart glancing cautiously over his shoulder. Baylor’s close-cropped hair, coarsened face and crooked nose gave him an unsavory appearance. Tenety, tall and gaunt, his hair an unruly tangle, stood over Clara, his attitude exuding menace.
“I’m waiting for someone,” Clara snapped. “Is there something you want?”
“Who’re you waiting for?” Baylor snarled.
“None of your business,” Clara replied with a brusque edge to her voice.
“Maybe we’ll make it our business, sis. You got any ID? What’s your name and where are you from?”
“It’s still none of your business, smart ass.” Clara’s voice became a hostile growl.
Baylor extracted his detective’s shield from his pants pocket and flashed it at the woman.
Clara, still acting the part, said: “What’s that supposed to mean? Whaddya want? I’m here on business.”
“We’re from the Narcotics Squad, what’s in your bag there?” Baylor asked.
“How many times I gotta tell you two, nothin’ here is any of your concern,” Clara replied.
Tenety took a short step back from the booth and looked at Clara with narrowed eyes. Baylor leaned across the table and reached for Clara’s shoulder bag that she had placed on the seat next to her. She clutched at the bag as the detective tried to pull it from her grasp.
“Wait, I think I recognize this broad. Hold everything,” Tenety said to his partner, alarm sounding in his voice.
Baylor thrust his head forward and scrutinized Clara’ face. “Yeah Bobby, I think you’re right. Where have we seen her before?”
“I’ll betcha she was with that slimy foreigner we just busted for the assault on us,” Tenety conjectured, “What’s your game anyway,” he demanded.
Baylor sunk back in is seat. “Are you on the job? You try’na set us up?”
Tenety backed away further from the booth. “Let’s get outta here, Sid. This ain’t right. Somethin’ fishy’s goin’ on.”
Baylor slid from his seat and stood glaring at the woman.
Clara scrambled to her feet and flashed her shield. “Hold it right there, you two. What are you up to? Planning to rip somebody off?”
“You skank,” Baylor fumed, “you’re in here try’na trap us.”
Hearing the tense exchange over the Kel receiver in the van, two Federal agents rushed into the restaurant through the back entrance to the reception room. They showed their identification to the two detectives. “DEA,” one of them said, “Why are you harassing this woman?”
“She ain’t no civilian, I’m sure she’s from the rat squad, some sort of entrapment game,” Tenety rasped.
Baylor took his partner by the arm, “C’mon Bobby, let’s go before they try to frame us for something.”
“We haven’t done anything wrong,” Tenety protested. “Just get out of our way and we’ll leave.”
One of the agents addressed Clara. “You okay, Detective?”
“I’m fine,” she answered. “They think they recognise me.”
“Some slimy trick you tried to pull. You call yourself a cop, oughta be ashamed, doin’ stuff like this to other cops,” Baylor shouted at Clara. “Ya know what, you stink.”
Both suspects brushed past the drug agents and stalked out the door. After they left, Dante emerged from his hiding place in the kitchen.
“They must have seen us together sometime just in the past few days,” he said. “That shouldn’t have happened. The DEA is supposed to have had those two under surveillance.”
“We’ll check back in the office logs, see if the team following them reported losing sight of their car. Could happen, with the Manhattan traffic being what it is,” the second agent offered.
When the two suspects left the restaurant unescorted. Reno and the team from the car in front rushed inside. “What just happened?” he asked. “Why are they leaving like that?”
