As captain, Mickey has been ordered to chair the PBI Board twice since being promoted. For him, being on steady night work, this means working a “double-bubble,” two eight-hour shifts. The PBI only hears cases during the day-work tour of duty. Since captains and above don’t receive overtime, Mickey gets “Comp Time.”
Most striking to him is the incompetence of most IA investigators. The investigation and the conclusion often read like conflicting accounts of the alleged infraction. But that’s to be expected when the PC fills Internal Affairs with his closest allies, usually with no investigative experience. Which is why a high percentage of the cases heard and sustained, are later dismissed or overturned in arbitration. All of which leads to the public’s never-ending pessimism, “Cops can’t police other cops.”
Mickey turns on his cell and punches in the lieutenant’s room at CDD. After two rings Sergeant Ritchey picks up.
“Central. Ritchey.”
“Hey, Gunter. Mickey. You paged me?”
“Hi, Cap. I got something for ya on Jerry Drum.”
“Shoot.”
“Jerry Drum, DOB 6-6-38. Born in Castleknock, Ireland. Moved to the US in ‘53 when he was fifteen. Graduated from North Catholic then went to a trade school. Jerry has dual citizenship. Here and in Ireland. He’s lived in our fair city for over thirty years. He also lived in Georgia for a couple of years. Sold heavy equipment. How am I doing so far, Cap?”
“You got my interest. But you wouldn’t be asking me that unless you’re about to hit me with the really good stuff.”
“You know me better than my wife.”
“I’ve spent more time with you, Gunt.”
“Man! Low blow.”
“All’s fair—”
“So here it goes. For twenty-five years good old Jerry worked for the PD.”
“Don’t tell me he was a cop.”
“Oh, hell no. He was a mechanic and tow truck driver.”
“Really.”
“He worked out of 26th and Master, 11th and Wharton and Macalester Street. Now here’s the part that may interest you more, Cap. On Constitution Day, 1991, Jerry and his tow truck were assigned to Independence Mall during the president’s planned visit. And he was also the driver of the flatbed truck that transported what was left of the rent-a-truck that exploded with the four cops inside in front of the radio repeater towers in Roxborough.”
“Let me guess. Jerry got his walking orders that day from Chief Michael Odysseus, ‘The Greek,’ right?”
“The Greek?”
“That’s what people started calling him after he walked away from federal prison. Guess it sounded more mysterious. Now you know why I was so interested in Jerry’s drunken rantings. ‘The Greek is coming?’ My gut tells me good old Jerry may lead me to Michael Odysseus. How’d you get Drum’s assignment sheet from five years ago, Gunt?”
“I’m getting to that. I asked Big Jack when things slowed down in the Fish Bowl to walk over to Police Personnel and pull Jerry’s folder.”
“Sounds like Big Jack came through. Anything else?”
“Seems Jerry was an ideal employee. Great attendance record. Never fronted. His yearly performance reports were all outstanding. Didn’t have a lot of time on the books when he retired though. Seems he liked using all his accrued vacation and holiday time.”
“You’re killing me, Gunt. What’s the punch line?”
“The lieutenant faxed me two memos from Drum’s file. Both marked confidential. Jerry wrote to his boss after being interviewed by the FBI and the president’s Secret Service Detail. That’s where the info on his Constitution Day detail surfaced.”
“What’s the date of those memos?”
“Let’s see. The FBI memo is dated 9-18-91. And the Secret Service memo is also dated 9-18-91.”
“He wrote both memos the day after the Constitution Day debacle. He retired a couple of months later.”
“The Feds must have thought he knew something or seen something. I don’t suppose there was anything back from the Feds in his folder.”
“Big Jack would have faxed that to me if there was anything.”
“I agree. Thanks, Gunt. And thank Big Jack for me, will ya?”
“Done.”
“One more thing. You said Drum has lived in Philly for over thirty years do—”
Before Mickey can finish, Sergeant Gunter says, “2505 Olive Street. That’s in Fairmount. Home phone, 766-1292. He has a ‘92 Ford 150, PA tag, BLAT-HACH. I’ve seen a lot of vanity plates, but that makes no sense to me at all.”
“Spell it out for me.”
Mickey writes it down on his left palm and then mouths, “b-l-a-t-h-a-c-h, blathach. It’s one word. It’s Irish for buttermilk. My Da used to say blathach, buttermilk, is the only real cure for a hangover.”
“I’ll have to remember that, Cap. You want his Social?”
Gunter can hear Mickey laugh. “Sure. Why not?”
The sergeant recites Jerry Drum’s nine-digit social security number to Mickey who adds it to the list on his palm.
“Have you decided what you’re gonna do with Drum?”
“Well, we ran him through the system every which way from Sunday and he came up clean. We’re about to street him. Like I said, he’s pure as the driven snow. Being interviewed by the Feds ain’t a crime. Shit! For some of us it’s a rite of passage. Right, El Capitan?”
“I hear that. Can’t make something out of nothing, Gunter. Thanks again. I know you’re busy out there. I appreciate your legwork on this one. Guess I owe you.”
“Glad to help. Don’t be a stranger.”
“Okay. Don’t forget to keep me in mind for the next reunion.”
“Will do. So where you going next on this Drum thing, Cap?”
“I’m gonna run with what I got so far and see where it takes me. Later, I’ll follow up with the Garda in Dublin and see what they can tell me about Jerry Drum. Being a citizen of Ireland and all.”
“Sounds like you’re starting to connect some of those proverbial dots.”
“With a little help from my friends.”
“I’d love to be there when you finally nail your man, ‘The Greek.’ And I know you will.”
“You know I won’t stop until I do. It’s an Irish thing.”
“It’s a Mickey Devlin thing.”
“Be safe, Mick.”
“You too, Gunter.”
Mickey pushed the end button on his cell phone.
CHAPTER 5
“Wine is sweet in the drinking but bitter in the paying.”
Irish Proverb
Mickey makes his way back to the CIB room where Bennett is on the phone with one of the Patrol Divisions, taking a report about an off-duty Internal Affairs Inspector involved in an auto accident under the Market-Frankford Elevated Train Line. The inspector is the second in command at IA and a close friend of the commissioner.
Bennett ends his phone conversation with, “Okay, Lieutenant. I got you covered. We only have one street captain working tonight so hold the scene until his arrival. I’ll contact Accident Investigation for you. Stay off the air until Captain Devlin shows up.” Bennett listens a few seconds. “You’re welcome.” The desk captain hangs up the phone.
“Sorry, Mick. Got a late one for ya. Inspector Fritz Kuhn hit the trestle under the York and Dauphin El station.”
“Was he alone?”
“Yes.”
“That’s a plus anyway. Is he injured?”
“Minor bumps and bruises. The district lieutenant wants to lock up Kuhn for DUI. The inspector is givin’ him the ‘do you know who I am routine.’ That’s why the lieutenant wants a higher authority to make the final call.”
“Maybe he should be calling the IA Chief. Sounds like a bag job to me.”
“The lieutenant thinks one IA boss on the scene is one too many.”
“Point taken. What’s the lieutenant’s name?”
“Klephard. Scott Klephard.”
“Good kid. I worke
d with his pop back in the day. Heck of a detective. Saw him get the name of an assailant from a five-year-old hearing-impaired vic using alphabet soup. The little girl was in the hospital. She wouldn’t talk to anybody. Parents were MIA.”
“No shit?”
“Klephard had hospital security video the whole thing so the DA would approve a warrant and present it in court.”
“So if it weren’t for Campbell Soup who knows, right?”
“And a sharp detective.”
“Look at the bright side, Mick. At least it’s on your way home. Stop by the scene. Make the call and head for the Devlin castle.”
Mickey looks at his watch. “As long as the job doesn’t end up being a real hummer. The last thing I need this morning is to lock up another boss. Especially one with as big a dime as Kuhn has.”
“Maybe it’s not as bad as it sounds.”
“Knowing Fritz ‘hit and run’ Kuhn as I do, fat chance of that being the case.”
“Oh. It’s that Kuhn. I better call the Fish Bowl to make sure they put something on the Commissioner’s Overnight Sheet.”
The Fish Bowl is a small room on the second floor of Police Headquarters supposedly manned 24/7 by a captain or above. However, Detective Headquarters Captains have an aversion to working after dark. So most of the time the last-out lieutenant from Central Division is forced to fill in on the overnight shift.
“Give me a half hour to get up to the scene before you call the Fish Bowl. I don’t want one of those ‘news whore detectives’ running down to the press room. I don’t think the PC would appreciate the media knowing what happened with one of his favorite inspectors, God knows why, before he does. And I definitely don’t want to show up and be assaulted by a pack of sleep-deprived rookies from the media.”
“Good point.”
“I’ll wait to call the Fish Bowl until you call me from the scene.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“But remember, I finish at eight, Mick.”
“It’s only 6:30. That’s plenty of time.”
Mickey walks out of CIB to the back double doors and to the rear lot. He drives out the 7th Street driveway and heads for I-95 North. With the bulk of traffic heading the other way, toward Center City, Mickey makes good time. At 6:55 he pulls opposite the ground level entrance to the overhead York and Dauphin El stop.
“Charlie 32 to East Band.”
“Charlie?”
“Put me on location York and Dauphin with 25 Command. Auto versus fixed object.”
“Got anything else for me, Charlie 32?”
“Not at this time. I’ll call your operation with details.”
“Receive, Charlie 32. KGF 5-87 the time is 06:56 hours.”
The district lieutenant walks up to Mickey, salutes and begins to recap what the first officer on the scene told him about the inspector’s accident. The lieutenant adds, “He smells like a freakin’ brewery. I had to help him out of his car and into the back of my command car. He’s sleeping. Do you know this guy, Boss?”
“I know of him. He does have a reputation. Most of it revolves around booze and collecting badges.”
“Is this the same guy that ran over that young girl on Woodhaven Road a few years ago?”
“The same. She died the next day.”
“How the hell did he keep his job after that?”
“He was a lieutenant working for one of the deputies at the time. Need I say more?”
“Was he drunk at the time?”
“We’ll never know. No field sobriety test was done and a breathalyzer wasn’t ordered. The Deputy was called and he drove Kuhn home. No one else was called until eight hours later.”
“Holy shit!”
Mickey shrugs. “I understand he pulled his ‘do you know who I am crap’ on you.”
“Yes, sir. First, on my cop, then, on me. If you’re thinkin’ about giving this guy a break…”
Mickey holds up his hand, “Stop right there. I call them as I see them. End of story! Too many bosses have gone out of their way to give bums in this department a break. And it always comes back to bite them in the butt.”
“I agree a hundred percent, Cap.”
“Thought you might. That’s what your dad would do.”
“Ya know my dad?”
“That I do. Come with me while I talk to this guy, Lieutenant.”
Mickey opens the back door of the lieutenant’s marked car and is immediately hit with a swell of aromas, most noticeably alcohol and urine.
“Hey, Inspector Kuhn. You injured? Can you tell me what happened?”
Through slurred speech and spittle showers Kuhn answers, “Take me the fuck home. I gotta take a piss.”
“Little late for that, my man. So where were you coming from, Inspector?”
“Who the fuck are you? Where I been ain’t none of your fuckin’ business, Lieutenant. I already told you that.”
“Captain.”
“What?”
“I’m Captain Devlin, from CIB.”
“Who’d you pis—pissss off, Dev—a—lin?”
“The list is too long. And I don’t have the time or inclination to get into it with you. You’re drunk. You drove your city car halfway up the El trestle. You’re lucky you’re not dead.”
“Fuck you dead. Get som—one of your people to fix my car and…” The inspector slouches back on the bench seat and falls asleep momentarily. A few seconds later he tries to finish his thought. “Take me—my—me the fuck home. Where’s my—my keys. I’ll dri—drive meself the fuck home. I’m…”
Disgusted, Mickey turns to the lieutenant who was standing close by listening to what was being said.
“Guess you already tried to get him out of the car and walk the line?”
“Twice. He fell against his car both times. He also refused to submit to a field breathalyzer test. I did manage to secure his wallet and his weapon though.”
“Good move.”
“Ya know, he told me that he needs to get some sleep because he has to get to IA at nine o’clock to lock up a narcotics cop.”
Mickey shakes his head. “That’s one badge he’s not gonna be able to add to his dossier. ‘Cause this disgrace of an inspector is gonna hit the books. Have the first officer on the scene secure it for AID. And make sure he knows the car doesn’t get moved until after AID does their thing. I want this done by the numbers, Lieutenant. You okay with being the arresting officer? Ya know, if he hits the books as a DUI, he’ll lose his state certification as a cop.”
“Oh well. That’s on him, Boss.”
“I’m with you on that one. Put me down as responding and confirming the DUI call. Let’s get this guy off the street and under wraps before the media gets wind of what happened here. And if your inside crew gives you static over locking up a boss, call me.”
“Thanks, Cap. I appreciate you having my back on this one. And I doubt the guys inside will have a problem bookin’ an IA boss.”
“You’re welcome. Just remember, by the numbers.”
“Yes, sir. By the numbers.”
Mickey turns his cell phone back on. He calls Tom Bennett and has him call the Fish Bowl now that the job is over.
Mickey watches the lieutenant give the sector cop his walking orders. Then, the lieutenant drives off with one very drunk IAD inspector sleeping like a log on his backseat.
Then Mickey gets back in his car and goes over the air with the job to Police Radio.
“Charlie 32 to Radio.”
“32.”
“Give 25 Command numbers for a DUI arrest. Make me available. I’ll call your operations desk with additional details.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“And can I have a time check please?”
“KGF 5-87 the time is 07:23 hours.”
Mickey smiles after recognizing his longtime friend, Jeane Cohen’s radio voice. Then, using his cell phone, he calls in the details of Inspector Kuhn’s arrest to the administrative supervisor at Radio, details
never appropriate to be transmitted over police radio, he decides to spend the rest of his time in Northeast Division, close to home.
CHAPTER 6
“People of the same stock are friendly.”
Irish Proverb
When Mickey walks through the door of his Northeast single Tudor-style home, he checks the Waterford crystal clock sitting on top of the bookcase in the living room.
9:05 in the morning here means it’s 2:05 in the afternoon there.
Mickey grabs the phone and punches in the private phone number Michael O’Leary gave him for Superintendent Kevin O’Clooney at Dublin’s Garda Headquarters. After two short rings, a distinguished-sounding man with a pleasant Irish brogue answers.
“Superintendent O’Clooney.”
“Good afternoon, Superintendent. I’m Captain Mickey Devlin with the Philly PD. I…”
“Good afternoon, Captain Devlin. Mike O’Leary told me you would be dialing me up.”
“Yes, sir. Got a few minutes for me?”
“I do. But at 1500 hours I have a staff meeting.”
“Then let me jump right to the point. Since I talked to Mike, a couple of additional concerns have crossed my radar.”
“Radar? Oh! You mean you have more questions about the two Americans on the surveillance tape?”
“That and more. But recently I interviewed a man arrested for taking a sledgehammer to our Liberty Bell Pavilion in downtown Philadelphia.”
“Oh my! He didn’t damage your historic Liberty Bell, I hope.”
“No. One of our uniform guys caught him trying to break the glass enclosure that houses the Bell. That’s pretty strong stuff. So his efforts were all for naught.”
“Thank the Good Lord for that.”
“And the aggressive patrol habits of the cop. Anyway, the man I interviewed, Mr. Jerry Drum, has dual citizenship. He was born in Ireland but has lived in the US for most of his adult life. For twenty-five of those years he worked for the Philly Police Department.”
Dublin Odyssey Page 4