by Saurav Dutt
“You know in my experience” Dzunda grinned “a cop who sits behind a desk with the years of experience he has, always has something to hide.”
“I think after the third psych evaluation, we just gave up reading this guy’s record” Russo piped up “he’s been shuffled through precinct to precinct like a virus; frankly Captain, if you two didn’t have any history, he would struggle getting traffic duty in this city wouldn’t he?”
Dzunda guffawed as he dug into his pocket to slip out a wad of bubblegum which he threw back into his mouth, looking at the picture on the wall with contempt. “If you’d bother to read John’s file” Durning sighed “you’d know he’s had a rough patch; he lived with his mother, she died after an intruder broke into the apartment and killed her during a robbery…he fought through prostate cancer 5 years ago..the chemo almost knocked him out of the park..that’s why he does a desk job not because he’s drawing a psycho pension..”
“Well that’s a real sad story there” Dzunda grimaced “but it doesn’t take away the fact that…he’s well….fuckin’ nuts Captain.”
“I think the reality here is” Russo smiled “that you’ve decided the safest place for the department as a whole is for John to remain behind a desk..wouldn’t it be easier to just move him on, he can draw an early pension and we can be done with it…these allegations are worrying Captain..nothing is in his favour, he’s in debt, his state of mind is questionable, he’s got a well documented drink problem and he seems to have no care for the law he’s sworn to uphold.”
“If I let John just go home” Durning shot back “I wouldn’t be responsible for what would happen to him…if you both bothered to read his file closer-”
“-yeah he’s been through AA, he had a divorce, our hearts bleed for him” Dzunda interrupted as he and Russo exchanged glances.
“But the fact is he does his job brilliantly.” Durning replied.
“Yeah” Dzunda grunted “shuffling papers behind a desk..”
“The problem is Captain” Russo shook his head “we don’t really care much for sob stories from three, five, even ten years ago..we care about what’s happening now; his current activities alarm us, his associations are deeply concerning..if he’s been living with Gina Rossi, he’s been in contact with suitcases full of laundered money not to mention a known felon..who knows what their plans were? Skip the country? Skip the state? With the assistance of a well decorated police officer, no wonder she was able to mull around Manhattan with all that loot and evade the FBI.”
“Well they let her slip off their radar” Durning growled “and if you two are just gonna stand here and pull apart the reputation of one of the finest officers I’ve worked with, then you can both get the hell out of my office right now.”
“We’re gonna recommend his indefinite suspension” Dzunda smiled as he motioned for Russo to leave “until we get to the bottom of this, these kind of cans of worms usually open from the inside…he’ll lead us to her and Romeo and Juliet will both go down in flames.”
“I don’t blame your Detective though” Russo chuckled “that Gina Rossi is one hell of a looker for her age..I believe they call them cougars now, ain’t that right?”
The pair of them grinned at each other and closed the door behind them. Durning slumped back into his seat and let out a resounding sigh. Yanking the telephone receiver he began dialling John’s home telephone number. It rang endlessly, the third time he had tried in the past hour. As he placed the receiver down, and contemplated a home visit or getting an officer to do a drive by to check up on him, a loud knock on his door startled him out of his thoughts.
Lucy Ziyi stood at the door, 29, attractive with her spectacles perfectly positioned half way down the bridge of her nose. She still had her laboratory jacket on and clutched a clipboard under her right arm, the fingers of her other hand rapping loudly across it. “Hi Captain” she smiled, stifling a yawn, “we’ve run all our tests now.”
“Good” Durning replied, beckoning her to sit. “I’d prefer to stand sir” she replied. “Long night?” Durning asked, rearranging John’s file as she placed her clipboard down onto the table. “You could say that” she sighed “Captain, we’ve analysed pretty much all the samples and fibres we can from the mystery woman your department picked up.”
“Well there’s no mystery about it, we don’t need a badge to tell us she’s Gina Rossi” Durning insisted “so what do you have for me?”
“Well..” Lucy began, flicking through the sheets of paper with her fingertips “the blood on the bowler hat is definitely hers cross matched with the hospital blood samples..there’s a combination of dry blood and fairly recent blood-both hers. It would seem to suggest she’s tried wearing the hat to cover up the wound…that’s all I can hazard. The dry blood is over six months old, I can’t pinpoint when exactly before that I’m afraid just yet without further testing. The hair fibres within the rim of the hat are all hers, there’s a mix of blonde and darker dye which suggests she’s had this hat for a while..before the dye job and after…I don’t know why she would even wear a bowler hat..”
“Gina Rossi used to run a casino out of Jersey and Atlantic City for Dennis” Durning interrupted “maybe it’s from one of the showgirls there…I’m guessing of course.”
“Well” Lucy shrugged “the suitcases aren’t cheap, high quality though the surfaces have eroded probably through wear and tear and being dragged around..the money well there’s a ton of fingerprints over them, including hers…they’re very high quality counterfeits..I’ve been in touch with Lee in forensics and looking at prints we already have on file..one of the prints is definitely Dennis Rossi’s..”
“Right….” Durning sat back in his chair, his chin cupped in his hand “so now we’re not guessing, we know whose money this is, and we know who she is..”
“That’s not all.” Lucy hesitated.
“What is it?” Durning demanded, noting the sour expression that had fallen over her face.
“Well that mink coat she was wearing..” Lucy replied as she swallowed hard “in one of the pockets is a key to the cases…it fits perfectly in the lock. Now there are different sets of fingerprints....there’s hers, another unidentified one and…”
“And?” Durning leant forward.
“Detective Cassini’s….” Lucy trailed off “and not just that…his prints are over the money as well.”
“What are you telling me?” Durning shook his head in dismay.
“I can’t ..I can’t…come to any conclusions..” Lucy stammered.
“What do you mean?” Durning snapped, rising from his seat, slapping the leather upholstery of his chair angrily as he stared off into the distance.
“I mean only she knows the truth about all of this” she replied “if it’s any consolation Detective Cassini’s prints are new…he obviously found this key and opened the case and..well…went through the money..that’s all I can assume.”
“I’ve spoken to the doctor who treated her” Durning cut in “she’s on her way to becoming a vegetable as far as her head goes, amnesia..I believe him when he says she probably can’t remember where that money came from, how it got there, how she hurt herself, where the fuck that bowler hat is from…” he trailed off.
“All the ID, all the forensics, all the data..” Lucy sighed “…points to this woman not being an imposter..she really is Gina Rossi.”
“Then there’s no way I can spin this” Durning shook his head “a good cop, a good man..my friend..is aiding and abetting a known felon..whatever the truth of it is, that’s how everybody will see it.”
“I’m sorry Captain” she sighed “I like Detective Cassini, I don’t think anybody saw this coming.”
“Y’know what Pascal once said Lucy?” Durning frowned as he opened the door for her.
“No, what?” she replied, standing before him.
““We are only falsehood, duplicity, contradiction; we both conceal and disguise ourselves from ourselves.” Durning smi
led to himself “I guess some of us are better at doing it than others..”
* *
John hurried forward, motioning for Andie to stay behind him as he approached the door to his apartment, instinctively feeling for his gun, cursing under his breath as he realised he was unarmed. The chain was ripped, the panelling of the door buckled in as if a fist had been driven through it. He stood up against the frame and squinted through the gap, scanning the room desperately and could see tables upturned and broken glass scattered across the carpet.
“What is it?” Andie whispered as she moved closer. “Stay where you are.” John hissed, taking a breath as he gently pushed the door inward. The hinges squealed as he did so and as he moved in, he saw that trinkets, magazines and broken shards of glass were scattered all across the floor.
“It’s John…” he muttered, carefully making his way in. He had barely taken another step before he could see a solitary hand, jutting out of the entranceway to the kitchen. He froze, his heart thumping as his eyes darted around the room.
“What the hell’s going on?” Andie complained behind him. She brushed past John into the apartment and looked around her. “Someone has been here..I had left her alone, told her not to answer the door..” John halted, gingerly stepping towards the kitchen as he motioned with his hand for Andie to remain where she was.
He knelt down to pick up a small decorative glass that had fallen from the cabinet and which lay against the wall. Careful to step forward as quietly as he could, he lobbed the small glass so that it fell against the limp outstretched hand. The glass shattered into pieces and snagged into the bare flesh. “Who the hell is that?” Andie panted, frozen to the spot as John marched toward his kitchen, pausing for a moment at the entranceway, stunned at what lay before him.
At his feet lay a bear of a man, slumped there in a foetal position. Suited, with the collars of his blood stained white shirt wide open and his face contorted in pain, the man had his one hand lying outside the door and the other clutching his neck. His stone cold blue eyes stared up and a blood soaked knife lay across his chest. Pots, pans and smashed plates were strewn all around him. John knelt down, placing his fingers across the intruders throat and realised he was dead but the blood was still warm. “Lord…” John shook his head “what the hell has been going on here…”
Andie stopped in her tracks as she stood at the doorway, cupping her mouth as she held back a shriek. It was only after her eyes digested the grisly sight that she recognised Madsen’s face. “I know this man…” she hesitated, leaning against the doorframe as her pulse quickened. “What?” John exclaimed, rifling through the dead body’s pockets for a wallet. All he found was a chrome Zippo lighter with ‘M.M’ emblazoned across it. It was then that he noticed the gun holster, but could not find a weapon.
John rose quickly to his feet, glancing around him as he rushed through the rooms of his apartment. “Hey!” he yelled as he ran, opening and slamming the doors of the bedroom and bathroom “it’s John, where the hell are you? Are you here??”
Andie leant against the wall, noticing that her hand was trembling. “What is going on here?” she asked as her bottom lip quivered. John stopped in his tracks, realising now that Gina had fled the apartment. “She was just here..” he replied, out of breath “..how do you know this guy? Who the hell is he?”
Before she could answer, both of them realised Agent Pearce was standing at the entranceway of the apartment. He moved carefully forward, zoning in on Madsen’s outstretched hand and stood in between them, shaking his head in bemusement. “Every dog has his day..” he smirked as he locked in on Andie’s face and glared at her “you have your father’s eyes..” he smiled.
“Andie” John interrupted “this is Agent Pearce from the FBI, he’s been helping with…”
“I don’t need to know anything about what he is or isn’t doing” Andie shot back “these are the same people who said my mother died of a drug overdose, and now according to what you said on the way here, they relocated her, without telling me she was actually alive.”
“You see this..” Agent Pearce cut in as he pointed towards Madsen’s lifeless body “this is what we were protecting you-and her-from..if they have the daughter, the family…they have something to get at your mother with. That’s why it was important to clean the slate-to avoid the risk of it happening.”
“Fuck your goddamn slate..” Andie spat “who the hell gave you the right to play God?”
“How do you know this guy?” John asked her, moving out of the way as Agent Pearce knelt down to examine the body. “He came to my house once…” Andie sighed “..I knew he was a heavy from my father’s people, he was leaning on me, the way these goons always do…veiled threats.”
“What did he want? What did he try to find out from you?” Pearce piped up, stepping away from the oozing pool of blood spread out underneath his shoes.
“He was asking about my mother..” Andie shook her head “..I don’t believe this is happening, I don’t know what the hell to make of all of this…”
“Where would she go?” Pearce turned to John, reaching for his cell phone before John snatched it from him.
“What the hell are you doing? You calling this in?” John demanded.
“Look around you, this piece of shit here has found her already, who knows how many other people Dennis has got running around Manhattan? She might have been ahead of them, but now they’ve caught up to her.” Pearce shot back.
“How the hell did he even find my house?” Andie asked “there’s no way my father knew where I moved to.”
“The warden at Rikers would have told your old man” Pearce answered “but that’s the official version, he already knew where you lived by then…”
“What?” Andie cried “how?”
“The FBI was already tapping your home line number” Pearce explained “we monitored the conversation with your husband..how that information got to Dennis, I have no idea…”
“You mean to tell me you jeopardised my life and my son’s life…and you have no idea how this happened?” Andie scowled, her face reddening with anger.
“Your father knows a lot of influential people” Pearce shook his head “if there was a leak, I promise you we’ll find out how it happened…but the important thing is that we look for your mother now, and to protect you.”
“Look” John interrupted “I know where she might be; but we have to move quickly before she gets in any more trouble.”
“What kind of trouble exactly?” Pearce interjected before he noticed John was pointing down at Madsen’s lifeless body and held his breath.
“Yeah…” John replied “look at his holster…she’s taken his gun…”
Chapter Seventeen
Sean savoured the last few drops of Jack and Coke easing down his throat, stifling a yawn as he placed the tumbler down on the bar counter with a resounding thud, joining the row of four lined up neatly in front of him. His eyes turned towards the door, blinking as a gust of cold wind swirled into the bar. He rose to his feet and threw unfurled dollar bills across the counter and nodded at the barman as he staggered towards the door. Stepping out into the cold, he lit a cigarette as he made his way slowly across the street, following the road up a half mile to the entrance of Peter’s school.
He walked slowly, kicking at the scattered leaves across the sidewalk as the gateway to the school drew nearer, the rising sound of the bustling playground spreading to his ears as he approached the metal fence encircling the playground, pausing to stare at the kids playing, the joy splashed across their faces. He took a deep drag of his cigarette, and then flicked it aside as he approached the double door entranceway to the school premises, standing there in the hallway, the smell of afternoon meals wafting around him.
He moved cautiously down the corridor, spotting the entrance to the playground at the foot of the corridor but before he could move any closer, he felt a hand on his shoulder. “Hi there, can I help you?” queried a warm, tend
er female voice. He turned his head around, taken aback by the busty attractive lady speaking to him. Her hazel hair was brushed back behind her ears, the gloss on her lips sparkling under the shallow lighting of the corridor. She must have been in her early 30’s, but her full cheeks, warm smile and short height made her look much younger.
“Um yeah…” Sean hesitated “..I believe my son is a student here…I’ve come to see him.”
“Right…” the lady nodded “well the kids are on their lunch break at the moment..they have about twenty minutes to go before returning to their classes-what’s your son’s name?”
“Yes..” Sean grunted as he stifled a hiccup “that’s why I’m here, to take my kid to lunch…”
“His name?” she queried as she noticed the unmistakable smell of whisky under his breath.
“Petey…er Peter...” Sean replied as his eyes darted around nervously.
“You’re Peter’s father?” the lady remarked, her expression softening as she studied Sean’s face carefully.
“Yes…” Sean cleared his throat “…can I see my son?”
“Um yes..well let me first see where he might be.” she answered, asking Sean to take a seat while she slipped down the corridor towards the playground.
He looked across at the wall adorned with children’s paintings, wondering to himself if one of his son’s pictures was there. He then heard footsteps echoing down the corridor, turning his head he smiled as he saw Peter approaching. “Hey dad..” he called out, his beaming smile clearly visible from thirty feet away. Sean came nearer, scooping Peter up in his arms as he embraced him as tightly as he could. “Oh I missed you…” he sighed, kissing him on both cheeks.
“He does need to be back for class.” the lady smiled as she caught up to them. “Sure thing.” Sean replied, already having turned his back on her as he quickly led his son down the corridor, his hand clasped within his own.
“I’ll need to know if you’re just going out for a short while or whether or not Petey will be missing class this afternoon…” the lady trailed off as she realised Sean had walked away, oblivious to anything she was saying.