Dublin Odyssey
Page 5
“Jerry Drum, you say?”
“That’s right, sir.”
“Of course we have our share of Drums over here. But for some reason your Philadelphia Jerry Drum with his dual citizenship sounds very familiar to me. And let’s not be so proper. Please call me Kevin or Kev.”
“Sounds grand. I’m Mickey or Mick.”
“Mickey, give me a minute. I’m running your Jerry Drum through our system.”
“Take your time, Kevin. I appreciate any light you can shine on the guy.”
Mickey can hear Kevin working at a computer keyboard.
“Still with me, Mickey?”
“Yes. I’m here.”
“I knew Jerry Drum sounded recognizable. Our Intel Unit has been working with Belfast Intel exploring the relationship Jerry and his brother Patrick have with the IRA.”
“IRA? That’s interesting. I was informed recently that our Jerry Drum was interviewed by local FBI and the Secret Service in ‘91. My understanding is they wanted to talk to him because of his assignment during the president’s visit on Constitution Day that same year. Now I’m not sure that was the only reason.”
“According to what I’m reading here, Jerry and Patrick Drum own a sheep ranch and a bog farm just outside of Dublin in a little town called Castleknock. I’m told it’s really Patrick who does the heavy lifting. Although Jerry does seem to make the trip back here on a pretty regular basis. Last time he came back was two weeks ago.”
“Sounds like Ireland’s law enforcement community is serious about shadowing the Drum brothers.”
“And about fifteen hundred other Irishmen holding dual citizenship. A good number of them now call America home.”
“Really? Then I guess me and my brudder could be on that list. Our Da was born in Ireland. County Mayo to be exact.”
The superintendent doesn’t confirm or deny Mickey’s probing question. That doesn’t sit well for him.
“Lots of the Devlin Clan still living over there. What was your Da’s name?”
“Lewis Michael Devlin.”
“A grand Irish name, isn’t it?”
“Grand, indeed.”
“Have you been back to the motherland recently?”
Mickey figured what the heck. He probed some more. “Sounds like I’m not in your dual-citizen computer base, Kevin.”
“Excuse me.”
“If me and my brudder were on the Garda list, you’d already know my visiting profile.”
“That’s one way to look at it, Mickey.”
“Of course you could be updating your records, too, Kevin.”
“You’re one proper investigator, aren’t you?”
Mickey laughs. “I have my moments.”
“Me too. No! You and your brudder aren’t on any list.”
“I know. And you can rest assured you’re not on mine either.”
Both seasoned cops have a laugh over their point, counterpoint moment.
“To answer your question, I’ve been to Ireland twice. Once in ‘85 and again in ‘90. My wife and I and my partner from Homicide and his wife were supposed to go back in ‘93. But Seamus, that’s my partner, had a bout with cancer so that trip was postponed. But depending on the number of dots you and Michael O’Leary can help me connect, I could be catching a flight back in the next couple of days. Solo!”
“All right then. Let’s connect some of those dots, Mickey.”
“Connect away.”
The superintendent begins reading from the computer reports displayed in front of him. “We’ve interviewed Patrick Drum at least a dozen times over the years. Once in January, after a National Liberation Army leader was assassinated while standing in a cinema line.
“In February, he became a person of interest after a bomb exploded in London’s Canary Wharf District. In that case, two died and there was eighty-five million pounds of damage. Again in February, when three of the Drums’ sheep handlers were killed after they set off a duffle bag bomb in the west end of London. Then in June, when one of our own was murdered in County Limerick. In July, we brought him in when a bomb exploded at a wedding reception in Northern Ireland.”
“Man, what a list.”
“There’s more. I’ll fax the list to you.”
“And every time Patrick walked?”
“So far, yes.”
“What was the common denominator in all those jobs? Why Drum?”
“Okay. Now you gotta bear with me a minute. Patrick and Jerry have a sheep ranch in Castleknock. They’re famous for their very sturdy wool harvests. The wool’s robustness is supposedly due to the unique feed they give their flock. They make the blend themselves. So…”
“Let me guess. At all the crime scenes, traces of the Drums’ special blend were found on remnants of the bomb mechanisms and/or the doers. So good police work dictates a face-to-face with Patrick Drum.”
“Makes sense, don’t it?”
“Absolutely! What were Patrick’s thoughts on the trace evidence?”
“Oh he was ready. Smart fellow he is, Patrick was able to present a copy of a letter he wrote to our Department of Agriculture describing the so-called special sheep feed formula. The letter was actually sent in response to a DOA request. His point with the letter was that the Drum feed recipe was a matter of record.”
“So anyone with access to a computer who wanted to ‘set up’ Paddy could hack into the Department of Agriculture’s system and get the formula and use it.”
“Plus he had solid alibis for every time period in question.”
“Was he lawyered up?”
“Lawyered up?”
“Did he bring a lawyer with him when you interviewed him?”
“After the second or third time, he did. And on the recommendation of our legal department, my boss issued a letter of apology to Drum.”
“Sounds like something the PPD would do. Liability issues have changed the way we do business, forever. Nobody makes a move or a decision without first running it by legal.”
“That and political correctness are paralyzing law enforcement. We’re swamped with lawsuits from our ever-expanding Muslim community alleging Garda harassment and an assortment of discrimination complaints naming several Irish officials.”
“Another dilemma our countries share. It’s caused everyone a great deal of frustration. And it’s only going to get worse before it gets better.”
Mickey resists going into the PD’s culture of racial corruption. He doesn’t know O’Clooney well enough.
“If it ever gets better. Our government officials are already talking about limiting immigration and banning certain pieces of clothing worn by most Muslim women. It’s getting ugly over here. Our ancestors wouldn’t recognize the Erin Isle.”
Maybe I will share the PD’s history with Kevin, later.
“That’s sad. And I’m sure our Founding Fathers are turning over in their graves. We’re quickly becoming a welfare state. Our politicians think that the ‘haves’ are morally obligated to take care, cradle to grave, of the ‘have-nots.’ Not sure how it is over there, Kev. But the new buzzwords here in the US are ‘redistribution of the wealth.’”
“It’ll be the death of our great nations.”
“We ain’t dead yet, Kevin. People over here are already talking about it being time for another Boston tea party.”
“Oh my! I haven’t heard that one yet.”
Mickey gets back on point.
“Do you know if Jerry Drum was ever interviewed by the Garda?”
“In 1992, we did a phone interview in connection with an investigation about his brother, Patrick. According to our records his alibi for his whereabouts was confirmed by a supervisor and his wife.”
“Interesting on a couple levels. In 1992, Jerry had already retired. And according to his personal data form at the time of his retirement, he never married.”
“So much for long-distance phone interviews, right Mickey?”
“That’s probably why I’ll be taking
my third trip to the motherland real soon. Nothing better for getting at the truth than an eyeball-to-eyeball sit-down, Kev.”
“Here! Here! Mick if you decide to make the trip, you have an open invitation to stay with me and my family. Love to have ya. Bring some patches and pins with ya. The guys like trading stuff with other departments. Back in late ‘85, a couple of the guys from Traffic got hold of some MOVE pins from a guy from your department.”
Mickey doesn’t advertise it but he was that guy. “I know exactly what you’re talking about. And they weren’t department issue. They’re long gone. But I’ll bring some other stuff for sure. And thanks for the open invite, Kevin, but I’ve already accepted an invite from Mike O’Leary to stay with him. Our families go back to the Great Famine. But I’m certain we’ll be seeing a lot of each other when I’m in the country.”
“That should be enlightening.”
“For both of us.”
“Now what can you tell me about the man you call Michael Collins, Trinity College professor?”
“Oh yes. You mean your Greek?”
“The one and only.”
“The Intel I have on Michael Collins or Michael Odysseus is at another location. But as I initially told you, I have a staff meeting scheduled to begin soon and I still need to prep.”
“I understand, Kevin. What would be a good time for me to call you back?”
“These staff meetings sometimes take on a life of their own. So let’s schedule your callback for some time late tomorrow. Here’s my cell phone number.”
Mickey writes down Kevin’s number, and then repeats it back to him.
“Correct. I’d rather we have our next conversation away from my office. Let’s say 1800 hours Ireland time. That will also give me time to access the Intel on your Greek. Does that sound all right for you, Mickey?”
“That’s good for me, Kevin. Thanks for your time. And I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Grand! Till then, Mickey.”
Mickey waits for the superintendent to hang up first. He hangs up the phone in its wall-hung cradle and takes a look at the clock on the microwave.
9:35. Let me grab a few hours of shut-eye and then I’ll pay a visit to Jerry Drum in Fairmount.
CHAPTER 7
“Rarely is a fight continued when the chief has fallen.”
Irish Proverb
At 10:30 AM Mickey is awakened by the bedside phone. By ring three he answers in a semi-conscious voice.
“Hello!”
“Captain Devlin?”
Still a bit groggy Mickey responds, “Yes. Who’s this?”
“It’s Tom Bennett. Sorry to bother you. Just wanted to give you a heads-up.”
“For?”
“I just got a call from Lieutenant Simon from the Deputy’s Office.”
Mickey does not respond.
“Mickey? You still there?”
“I’m here, Tom. Heads-up for what?”
“The Commissioner is on the warpath behind his asshole buddy, Inspector Kuhn, hitting the books this morning.”
“What did you tell him?”
“Exactly what you told me from the scene. That Kuhn was so drunk that neither the first cop on the scene nor the lieutenant was able to perform a field sobriety test. You know, all the stuff we talked about this morning.”
“All true. Did Simon say what Kuhn blew with the breathalyzer down at the PDU?”
“He did not. But I just got off the phone with AID. I talked to Captain Perino. Off the record, he told me his officer was unable to administer the test because Kuhn was so out of it. He requested a supervisor to have a doc draw blood. Long story short. Kuhn refused. AID got a warrant to draw blood, took his license, and started the process of suspending his driving privileges.”
“That pretty much covers it. Right?”
“You’d think so. But according to Simon, the PC is under the impression that you forced the district lieutenant to DUI Kuhn. Simon said you two have a history.”
“Guess I forced his boy to drink too much, drive drunk, and run his command vehicle halfway up the York and Dauphin El stop, too.”
“I hear ya, Mick. But all he sees is one of his top ginks got locked up, had his driver’s license taken, will lose his certification, and the PC will now have to fire him.”
“He’s the only one in the department who will see that as a bad thing.”
Bennett laughs. “Sad to say you’re probably right on with that observation, Mick.”
“Simon also said the Boss is getting hounded by the media and he’s threatening to offer you up.”
“So be it. At least the PC knew the deal before the media started hounding him. This isn’t my first rodeo. I’ll make sure I look pretty for the cameras. Look, Tom. Thanks for the heads-up. But like you said last night, ‘We’re covered.’ Until the proverbial crap hits the fan, no need to duck. Get some sleep. Talk to you tonight.”
“Okay, Mick.”
Thirty minutes later Mickey’s phone rings again. This time he lets his answering machine kick in. Still half asleep he monitors the lengthy call from his warm bed.
“Hey, Mickey. Michelle Cunay here. I just got a fax from one of my field reporters. The fax outlined a story ‘bout an accident early this morning. He said a councilwoman’s city car was sideswiped by a drunken cop. She was parked on Front Street under the El Train. The commissioner hasn’t returned her calls. She’s asking for an outside investigation. She hinted the PD is trying to cover up the incident. Call me.”
And the plot thickens.
Mickey unsuccessfully tries to go back to sleep. Michelle’s message has him thinking that Kuhn’s and the councilwoman’s accidents could be all connected.
That’s it. Can’t sleep. Let me call East Division to check on other reported accidents around the time of Kuhn’s.
“25th. Corporal Dean, how can I help you?”
“Good morning, Corp. Captain Devlin here.”
“Morning, Cap. Want the captain’s office?”
“Actually, no. I’m sure you can help me.”
“Shoot, Boss.”
“An inspector hit the books this morning around eight o’clock.”
“You’re the fourth call I got on that job. Inspector Kuhn from IA, right?”
“That’s the one. What I’d like to know is—were there any reported ‘leaving the scenes’ handled in the same area around the same time as Kuhn’s mishap?”
“Hold on. Let me check the sheet, Boss.”
Mickey can hear the corporal turning pages and counting out loud.
“Captain Devlin?”
“Yes, Corp.”
“Four. All reported and handled around the same time as Kuhn’s job.”
“Interconnected!”
“What’s that, Boss?”
“My gut tells me that Inspector Fritz Kuhn was a little more involved this morning than just trying to take out the El stop.”
“I heard ‘bout the Captain Devlin gut. Rumor is it’s never wrong.”
Mickey laughs out loud. “Somebody’s been telling tales out of school again, Corp.”
“I’ll tell my cousin, Jim Wilson, you said hey.”
“Iron Jim Wilson is your cousin? How the heck is he doing? Still living in North Wildwood?”
“He’s doing good. He’s bartending at a private club in Anglesea. He loves it down there. The wife and I were just at his place. Went down for the Jazz and Barbeque weekend in Anglesea. He always has nice things to say ‘bout you.”
“We were Academy classmates many moons ago.”
“He told me, Boss. He said you’re the only guy he actually misses from the PD.”
“Must be a year since I talked to him. Gotta get down to see Jim.”
“He would like that. Every time I go down to see him he shows me that newspaper clipping showing you two when ya graduated from the Academy.”
“That the one where he has his uniform hat on upside down?”
“Exactly.”
“I know.”
“Well. Okay, Corporal Dean. Yes. Tell Iron Jim I said hey.”
“Will do. Anything else I can help you with, Boss?”
“Nope! That’s it. Thanks.”
“Have a good day then, Cap.”
“You too.”
Mickey and Corporal Dean hang up simultaneously. Mickey then calls Michelle Cunay.
Michelle is the daughter of retired PD Chief Inspector Cunay. Because of that relationship, Mickey and Michelle have been friends for over a decade. Actually, Michelle sees Mickey more as a mentor. And Mickey readily accepts that role.
Michelle worked her way up from the mailroom to editor at the city’s largest daily newspaper. When Mickey was a detective in Central Division and later in Homicide, Michelle was his go-to investigative reporter. During that period she was the paper’s premier reporter and for her efforts received two Pulitzers. Both exposés revolved around high-profile investigations spearheaded by Mickey Devlin. She and Mickey’s old partner co-authored a bestselling whodunit based on Seamus McCarthy’s decorated career in Philly Homicide Division. Michelle is the only reporter Mickey trusts. And Mickey’s trust doesn’t come easy.
“Cunay.”
“Good morning, Madame Editor.”
“Hey, Mickey. Did I wake ya earlier?”
“No, I had to get up to answer the phone anyway.”
“Hey, that’s my line.”
“Great minds think alike. So tell me all about the councilwoman’s predicament.”
“I’m with ya on that great mind thing, Mick.”
“I’m not surprised, Shelle.”
“So after I called you, I called Councilwoman Lazoryszak. She said when she went to her car this morning she noticed the driver’s side quarter panel was hanging off. She called 911, identified herself and a sergeant responded to the scene. According to her, the sergeant told her that her car might have been hit by a drunken cop. With that information she called her district captain who told her the sergeant misspoke. She feels she’s getting the runaround and that it’s just another case of cops protecting cops.”
“So where’s she going with her complaint?”