by Tony Bertot
Nick reached the walkway along the East River and started heading north, still running at a good pace. Tyler, reaching the walkway, now had a clear shot at Nick. Tyler shouted again. This time Nick heard him and turned raising his gun. Tyler stumbled forward, tripping over himself, as Nick aimed but did not fire at him; instead, Nick turned and continued running. Tyler aimed and fired, hitting Nick squarely in the back. Nick stumbled forward, grabbing the railing on his right, which ran along the walkway. Turning once again, he raised his gun as Tyler got closer.
Tyler stared at Nick, thinking about what his captain had told him: This man killed the men who killed my mother.
Tyler fired again. Nick raised his gun as he took in this sight in the slowest of motion. He smiled as Tyler’s bullet ripped through him with a force that sent Nick plummeting over the guardrail and into the East River.
Tyler reached the guardrail as Nick hit the river, life drawing out of him. It was over.
Seconds later, Tyler was joined by O’Malley and Sam. They stood there together, staring into the river as if expecting to see Nick resurface and wave good-bye. Though O’Malley would have the river dragged for Nick’s body, he would never be found.
Tyler returned to duty the very next Monday though O’Malley told him he could have a couple of weeks off. He immediately wanted to be brought up to date on what was happening with the Johnson kid, and O’Malley, though reluctantly, obliged. The two detectives assigned to the case told Tyler that though there were witnesses, no one was willing to testify against the Spades. They were simply scared for their lives. Tyler got the name of the witnesses and had a chat with them. They confirmed to Tyler that the Spades were in fact the assailants, that they saw them in broad daylight shoot Jimmy in the back as he returned from the grocery store. Next, Tyler visited Mrs. Johnson and told her what the police had found out.
“People simply are afraid,” he told her.
She stared up at Tyler, with tears in her eyes and nodded, saying, “I understand, son. It’s all right.”
“No, it’s not,” Tyler responded. “I’m going to make it right. I promise you that.”
“Tyler, let it go. I have and so must you,” she told him.
Tyler stared into her eyes and nodded. Gave her the hug a mother receives from a long-lost son and walked away.
That night Tyler drove home, made some coffee, and then knocked on his neighbor’s door. The Hispanic couple living next door was pleased to have a New York City detective living in their complex. Though Tyler kept to himself, they would see him occasionally and simply nod, and Tyler would give a faint smile and nod back.
“Excuse me, folks. Do you have any sugar I could borrow?” he asked the young couple.
“Sure, man. No problem,” the man answered, returning a short while later with half a cup of sugar. “Oh shit, Maria, he talked to us,” Tyler heard him say to his wife after the door was closed. A few minutes later Tyler was in his car headed to Manhattan.
A Day of Reckoning
July 17, 1984
Lamont and four members of his gang were sitting at their normal hang out on 127th Street and St. Nicholas when they noticed a car on the other side drive slowly by. They couldn’t see the driver, but they could tell he was white.
“Hey, man! What you looking at?” they shouted to the driver. The driver picked up speed and drove away. “Shit, man I think we scared him,” one of the gang bangers said. They all laughed as they watch the car disappear in the distance.
A few minutes later the car was back; this time it was coming down on their side of the street. Approaching slowly, he gave them a chance to see him coming as they reached for weapons hidden in the nearby bushes above the bench where they were sitting. “What does this motherfucker want?” Lamont said as he got up. The gang now moved toward the street to meet the oncoming car.
The car stopped about a quarter of a block away. They still could not see the driver as he stepped out of the car. “Police!” Tyler shouted, showing his badge as he walked on the street toward them. “You better not have any weapons.” They quickly discarded their weapons on the sidewalk away from his view.
As Tyler approached, he raised his gun and fired, hitting the nearest gang member in the head. As they scrambled for their discarded weapons, Tyler fired again instantly hitting another member in the back. Tyler ran onto the sidewalk and fired again, hitting another one in the side of the head. One of the gang members took off running as Lamont scrambled for his weapon.
Down on all fours, reaching his weapon, he was confronted with Tyler staring down at him. “You . . . You’re a fuckin’ cop,” he said, looking up at Tyler.
“And you, asshole, are dead!” Tyler said as he fired into Lamont’s head. He then calmly turned around, walked away, got into his car, and went home.
Very early the next morning, O’Malley called Eric and asked him to come in. He sat with Eric for a few hours before Tyler was scheduled to be in, discussing the incident that occurred up on 127th street and St. Nicholas. “I don’t know, Captain. I can’t believe that he would do that. I simply can’t believe that he would really do something like that,” Eric kept saying to O’Malley.
Tyler walked into the precinct at around 8:00 a.m. and was told O’Malley wanted to see him. He walked in and was surprised to see Eric there. “What’s going on, Captain?” he asked, nodding at Eric.
“Tyler, someone offed the Spades last night up at 127th and St. Nicholas. Do you know anything about this?” he asked him.
“Why should I?” Tyler responded.
“Where were you last night?” the captain asked him.
“Home, where else would I be?” he responded.
“Can anyone verify that?” he asked Tyler.
“Sure, my neighbors. They shared some sugar with me,” he responded. “Why? You don’t think I had anything to do with this, do you?”
“Actually, there is a witness who says it was a white male. Also says he can identify him in a lineup,” O’Malley told Tyler.
“Really, and who is this witness?” asked Tyler.
“He’s a member of their gang. He said he heard the shots, and when he got there, several of their gang members were dead,” the captain finished.
“And he says he can identify the assailant?” Tyler asked.
“As a matter of fact this guy says the shooter identified himself as a cop,” the captain added.
“Wow. Why would a law-abiding officer go around shooting scum like that?” Tyler asked the captain. “So let me get this straight. Some gang member, responsible for drug trafficking and probably murder, identified a cop as a shooter of his beloved friends?”
The captain stared back at Tyler and realized what Tyler was saying, realizing that there was no turning back for Tyler. That, though he might not be able to prove it, Tyler had killed in cold blood. It pained the captain, as well as Eric, as they stared at Tyler.
“Until this is settled and you are cleared, you are hereby confined to desk duty,” ordered the captain. Tyler stared at the captain for a few seconds. He turned to Eric and smiled. Got up, walked out of the office and over to his desk, and began working.
After several weeks, the charges against Tyler were dropped as the witness could not identify Tyler as the shooter as he first claimed. It was proven that it was too dark and that the witness had lied about the incident. He was running away from the scene when the shooting occurred and not toward it. This put his testimony and integrity at risk. With no testimony and no shell casings or bullets, the case had been dropped due to insufficient evidence.
O’Malley was pleased with the results, but knew in his heart that justice had not been served. Tyler had gotten away with murder. This did not sit well with O’Malley, and after several days following the verdict, he called Tyler into his office.“Tyler, you are like a son to me. I promised your uncle that I would look after you. So I must hear it from you, for my own sake. Did you have anything to do with the execution of those three men?” he
asked Tyler, staring into his eyes.
Tyler stared back at him and smiled. “Of course, I did,” Tyler answered in a matter-of-fact way. O’Malley stared at him and froze at Tyler’s words. How could I not have known him after all these years, thought O’Malley.
Tyler got up and meticulously removed his badge and his gun and placed them on the captain’s desk. “I am sorry I disappointed you. But those bastards did not deserve to live after the suffering they caused Mrs. Johnson. It’s as simple as that. Good¬bye, Captain. It was an honor serving under you,” Tyler said as he exited his office.
The captain stood up and watched Tyler leave. What will become of you, son, O’Malley thought as he watched him leave.
A New Beginning
August 14, 1984
The morning sun lit up Tyler’s room, causing him to place the pillow over his head to try blocking the blinding light. It had now been several weeks since Tyler walked out of the precinct.
Looks like it’s going to be another hot day in the city, Tyler thought to himself.
After a minute or so, Tyler sat up in bed and looked around as if he didn’t know where he was. He got up, walked into the kitchen, started the coffee brewing, and went into the bathroom where he relieved himself. He walked back into the bedroom, grabbed a change of clothes, then back into the bathroom to shave and take a shower. A few minutes later, he was in the kitchen drinking his morning coffee. On the table was the mail he had picked up the night before. Tyler seldom got mail, and when he did, it was either a bill or someone trying to sell him something he didn’t need. As he sifted through the mail, he came upon a letter from a lawyer. Uh-oh, thought Tyler. Is someone suing me? Tyler opened the letter and read:
- - - - - - - - -- -- - - --
Dear Mr. Santiago,
We have been instructed to contact you in the event our client has not contacted us in over a month. As such is the case, we are obligated to advise you that you are to take possession of all of our client’s worldly goods.
Included in the envelope is a one-way ticket to California where a representative of our firm will meet you at the airport, and provide you with transportation and information regarding this transaction. So that there is no misunderstanding, you are required to bring proof of identification
If you wish to contact us, you may reach us at the number provided.
Respectfully yours.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - --
“What the hell is this all about?” Tyler muttered to himself.
Tyler stared at the letter for a couple of minutes while he drank his coffee. After a minute or so, he got up and made himself some scrambled eggs and a piece of ham. He sat back down and reread the letter.
The time was now 10:00 a.m. here, so it would only be around 7:00 a.m. in California. Guess I’ll go for my morning run and call later, Tyler thought to himself.
After his morning run, Tyler stopped by a local café, had another cup of coffee while he sat and read the morning paper. It was a beautiful day, and he so enjoyed just watching how the city came to life. Across the street, he watched as some kids were playing stickball, and his mind wandered back to his childhood when stickball was part of a daily routine, when there were no cares in the world.
Suddenly, the quietness was interrupted with the sound of several teenagers driving by with their car radio blaring, honking their horns while screaming out obscenities to a rather attractive girl walking down the sidewalk. “Oye chica. You want me, baby?” he heard them shout out. Tyler stared at them for a few seconds as they faded into the distance. Someday someone is going to throw a grenade into one of those cars, Tyler thought to himself.
A couple of hours later, Tyler was back in his apartment. He decided to make the call to California. After a couple of rings, someone answered. “Yes, may I help you?”
“Yeah, my name is Tyler Santiago, and I rec . . .”
The voice on the other side immediately interrupted Tyler.“Yes, Mr. Santiago, we have been expecting your call. Everything will be explained to you upon your arrival. Let me assure you this is not a scam of any sort, and we are looking forward to meeting and, hopefully, doing business with you. Just let us know your arrival date, and as promised, we will be there to greet you.”
Tyler listened intently and after a few minutes responded, “Okay. I’ll let you know when I’ll be arriving.” What the hell. It isn’t as if I have any real plans, he thought to himself.
A Blast from the Past
August 18, 1984
Carrying an overnight bag, Tyler was greeted at the San Francisco International Airport by a man dressed up like a chauffeur holding up a sign with his name on it. “Mr. Santiago?” asked the greeter as Tyler approached.
“Yes, but call me Tyler.”
Without any response to what Tyler had just asked of him, he went on. “I am here to take you to the firm. May I take your bag?” he asked Tyler.
“No. I can carry it myself,” Tyler responded.
“Of course, please follow me.” He indicated to Tyler the direction he was taking.
Tyler was immediately hit with the hot summer air as he exited the airport. “Man, it’s hot here,” he commented to the chauffeur. Never responding or acting as if he had heard Tyler, he walked to the back of a nearby limousine and opened the back door for Tyler. Tyler stepped into a nicely air-conditioned and spacious limo. Man, this is the life, Tyler thought to himself.
As the driver took his place, he advised Tyler to enjoy any of the beverages in the cooler in front of him. Tyler opened the cooler to find a bottle of champagne, a couple of beers, and several soda cans of different flavors. He grabbed a can of root beer and sat back to enjoy the scenery.
Approximately half an hour later, they arrived at their destination. Tyler stepped out of the limousine and found himself in front of a small office building where another gentleman walked down the few steps to greet him with an extended hand. After introducing himself, he led Tyler into the building and into a small conference room where, after formally identifying Tyler, he provided him with the details of his client’s instructions, which took approximately twenty minutes.
As the lawyer stood up, he handed Tyler a set of keys, one for a car that belonged to his client and was parked outside, and the other to his client’s house. The lawyer also provided Tyler with instructions on how to get to the house as well as one thousand dollars in cash.
Tyler was overwhelmed. Though he never heard of the client, Tyler never let on. Best to wait till all the cards have been played before showing your hand, Tyler thought to himself.
“I hope you enjoy your stay in California, and if we can be of any service, please do not hesitate to call. You have our number,” the lawyer concluded as he rose and showed Tyler out to where his car was waiting; a black GLX 1983 Ford Mustang convertible. Tyler shook the lawyer’s hand once more, got into the GLX, and drove off. Man, this is like a fuckin’ dream, Tyler thought to himself.
A mile down the road, Tyler pulled over and looked at the instructions on how to get to the guy’s house. Who was this guy? Obviously, he has me mixed up with someone else, Tyler thought to himself.
A few minutes later, Tyler arrived at the address. It was a nice-looking house. Tyler was surprised that the key to the front door actually worked.
Walking in, he was overwhelmed by the ocean view from the living room. Man, what a place, he thought to himself. Still no clue to what was going on, he began to explore the various rooms. Then he saw it. There on the nightstand next to the bed was a picture.
Holding the picture, Tyler sat there staring at it. The picture slipped through his fingers as the realization and grief enveloped him. It was a picture of his mom holding a baby, and next to his mom was a younger version of the man Tyler met over twenty years ago. The same man who killed Judge Samual Livingston. The man who had been known by many as Nick Costello and was later found to be Theodosio Gresco. The same man Tyler shot and watched fall to his death.
&
nbsp; To be continued . . .
Follow the life of Tyler Santiago in the exciting conclusion; The Legacy of the Assassin.
See how it all started in the exciting prequel; The Birth of an Assassin.