by F. P. Lione
“I can understand that,” I said.
“Did it work? Do you feel connected to him?” Joe asked. “No. The funny thing was when I came here, it was nothing like I thought it would be.” He laughed cynically. “I thought people would like me, you know, appreciate that I was out there protecting the streets, like my father before me. But no one cared about me—they hated me. I think I could have taken that if the cops accepted me, but until you guys,” he looked at Joe and me, “nobody did.”
“Everyone goes through that, Nick. That’s how the oldtimers are. You have to prove yourself. I’m not saying it’s right, but that’s just the way it is,” I said. “Do you think that’ll change at FD? It’s like Rooney told you—you’ll still be the new guy.”
“I know that, but I’ll have the time on the job behind me that the other probees won’t have. And the way I look at it, with FD you can only be a hero. If I go down, it’ll be saving someone’s life in a fire, and it’ll mean something. The only people it mattered to when my father died was my family, and it destroyed them.”
“Don’t kid yourself, Nick. If your father had died in a fire, it wouldn’t have made it any easier on you and your family. And your father dying mattered to other people too, Nick. It mattered to the cops he worked with, his partner, and to all the cops that came after him,” Joe said.
“I feel like I’m letting him down by not staying,” he said.
“You can’t do that to yourself. A lot of cops go over to FD. Let’s be honest, it’s a better gig,” I said.
“But I feel like I didn’t finish, like maybe he wouldn’t be proud of me for leaving.”
“Nick, I’m sure he would just want you to be happy,” Joe said. “And he wouldn’t want you to spend twenty years in a job you hate because of him.”
“The funny thing is I was starting to get used to it, and at times I liked it,” he said with a half smile. “The other half of the time I hated it, but I’m starting to figure it out. Now I won’t be a cop, I’ll be a fireman.”
“Nick, no matter what you do with your life, you were a New York City cop. And you’ll remember it, and you’ll be proud of it,” Joe said.
He thought about that for a second and said, “Yeah, I will.”
Two nights later, when Joe and I went back on patrol for the first time without Romano, I felt sad. There was no one to toss out of the car for coffee when we stopped at the deli on 9th Avenue. I was surprised at the empty feeling I had that he was gone and wouldn’t be back. I drove over to 34th and went up 8th Avenue. I rolled down my window and pulled over at the corner of 37th Street, where I saw Bruno Galotti walking up toward 42nd Street.
“Hey, Bruno,” I called to him. “You need a ride to post?”
Acknowledgments
The authors would like to thank the following people:
Mike Valentino for taking us on in the first place and for his continued wisdom and support, but we still think Schilling’s bloody sock was a sham.
Lonnie Hull Dupont for understanding Tony and always laughing right before she says, “Take it out.” Bada bing, baby.
Kelley Meyne for her great editing and for letting us know what willy means.
Cheryl VanAndel for her great covers.
Sheila Ingram, Twila Bennett, Karen Steele, Aaron Carriere, and everyone else at Baker Publishing Group for this awesome opportunity and for putting up with all our questions.
Tom Wilgus for his friendship and expertise in police work.
Joe Amendola, Scott Hennessy, and Vinny Benevenuto, New York’s Finest, hands down. Thank you for your memories, insight, and friendship.
Sal Ventimiglia for all his help on FDNY. You’re a great friend.
Al O’Leary, who knows everybody and introduces us to them. Thanks, Al, you’re the best.
Ben Lauro and Pure Publicity for all their hard work.
Georgie and Frankie, our amazing sons. We’re so thankful that God blessed us with you. Thanks for sharing this with us.
F. P. Lione is actually two people—a married couple by the name of Frank and Pam Lione. They are both Italian-American and the offspring of NYPD detectives. Frank Lione is a veteran of the NYPD, and Pam was a medical sonographer in vascular ultrasound until she decided to stay home full time with their two sons. Frank and Pam divide their time between New York City and Pennsylvania. They are the authors of the Midtown Blue series and Clear Blue Sky. To contact the authors, log on to their website at www.midtownblue.com.