by Henry Hack
When I got back to Nassau Homicide, I caught another big case – two murdered and mutilated men found on a golf course. It was a real whodunit, and with the help of my partner Detective Virgil Webb, nicknamed Spider by Manny Perez because “we don’t need no Virgil’s around here,” we solved it to the praise of all. Oh, this time I did not enter into a love affair to screw things up. However, Spider, my tall, handsome, medium-brown skinned partner, almost did despite my warnings and despite his complete knowledge of my disastrous affair with Niki Wells. He fell, like the clichéd ton of bricks, for the gorgeous newspaper reporter, Beyoncé look-a-like, Tiffany Adams-Kim, who fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on your point of view, turned up dead on the very same golf course as had my two victims. We solved that one, too, and no one ever discovered Spider’s brief romance with Tiffany, thereby preserving his marriage and family, while my first one still remains in ruins.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
A month after Commissioner Cassidy re-instated me, I was settled into the daily routine of the homicide squad and Tara and I decided the time was right to get married. The wedding was a low-key affair with less than fifty attendees, most of whom were fellow NYMPD cops and detectives. Willy Edwards and his wife, Edna, had flown up from Atlanta and Willy stood up for me as my best man. Tara had Queenie Pearson, a fellow homicide detective, as her matron of honor.
With an imminent decision pending on my visitation petition, Tara and I chose a one-week hiking honeymoon in the Virginia mountains to be near Roanoke when the decision came down. We were in a small motel near the Skyline Drive, and after a short hike and a terrific meal at the adjoining restaurant, we made love slowly and tenderly.
The next day we were hiking on the trail toward a waterfall when my cell phone rang. I checked the digital readout before answering. It was Miles Hoffman, my attorney.
“Danny, I have some news.”
“What’s up?”
“Where are you now?”
“I just happen to be in the Commonwealth of Virginia on the way to Dark Hollow Falls in my hiking boots.”
“Can you hike your way to Roanoke tomorrow? Judge Conyers has scheduled our visitation hearing for ten o’clock.”
“I’ll be there,” I said.
The trip down to the falls was easy. Coming back up the steep trail had us both panting and sweating when we reached the top at the parking area.
“Whew,” I said, “I’m more out of shape than I thought.”
“Anything hurt?”
“If you mean my bullet wounds from the Dragon Lady – no. If you mean my thighs and calves – oh yeah.”
“Let’s eat our sandwiches and relax a bit,” she said. “Then I want to climb Hawksbill Mountain.”
“I’m glad I’ll be sitting in a courtroom tomorrow,” I said.
“But we’ll be back here the day after that, and we got a few more days after that.”
“You’re punishing me, but I’m very happy to be here with beautiful you on this beautiful spring day, and it’s comforting you’ll be there with me tomorrow, too.”
“Worried?”
“Yeah, Jean’s lawyer is a real bitch on wheels.”
“Well, don’t be. We took care of one Dragon Lady, and we’ll take care of the nasty Lila Milgram-Haines, too.”
Tara and I got to Miles Hoffman’s office a half hour before the hearing the following morning after a solid night’s sleep. “What’s going to happen?” I asked him.
“Judge Conyers has all the background information on the case already. I even called him personally to fill him in on the recent demise of Nicole Wells and faxed him the newspaper articles. All I have to do is plead our case for reasonable visitation and wait for his decision.”
“What’s reasonable visitation?”
“You tell me. You live several hundred miles away. How often can you get here?”
I’d like to try for a weekend each month and an occasional holiday when they’re off from school, and a week during summer vacation.”
“Sounds very reasonable to me. Let’s mosey on over to the courthouse.”
We arrived a few minutes before ten and Judge Conyers promptly took the bench at ten on the button. He looked over his half-glasses and asked, “Where’s the respondent and respondent’s counsel?”
Since the bailiff and the stenographer were the only ones in the courtroom, Miles rose to his feet and said, “I don’t know, your honor. Ms. Haines is aware of the hearing. I spoke with her late yesterday afternoon.”
“Bailiff,” he said, “get me Ms. Haines office number.”
As the bailiff arose, Lila Milgram-Haines hurriedly entered the courtroom. “Pardon me for my lateness, your honor,” she said, gulping for air.
“Where is your client?”
“She just informed me she does not wish to attend this proceeding.”
“Why is that?” he asked, the color rising in his face.
“She does not wish to see her ex-husband. She…uh, never wants to see her ex-husband.”
“Before I order her arrest and have her dragged in here, please tell me that you are empowered to act fully on her behalf.”
“I am, your honor.”
“Wonderful. Let’s proceed. Mr. Hoffman?”
Miles briefly and professionally made the case for reasonable visitation, emphasizing that I had been cleared of all criminal charges and departmental charges and had been retroactively reinstated to the New York Metropolitan Police Department. Lila’s position was that I had willfully abandoned my family for an extra-marital affair causing them irreparable harm, and to now allow me to interact with my children would re-kindle the sordid affair and damage them further. She said in her most venomous voice, “The children, as their mother, have expressed their desire to never see their father again.”
That gave me a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach and a feeling of light-headedness. I grabbed Tara’s arm for balance and she whispered, “Easy, now.”
“Where are the children now?” the judge asked.
“At home with their mother.”
“I want them produced. I want them here in this courtroom for an interview in my chambers with both attorneys present.”
“Yes, sir,” Lila said. “I’ll try…”
“No, Ms. Haines, you will have them here within the hour. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Your honor. I’ll call right now.”
“Good. Mr. Hoffman, you may remain. Mr. Boyland, why don’t you come back at two o’clock? By that time I will have interviewed your children and should be in a position to render my decision. Court’s adjourned until then.”
Tara and I returned to the courtroom at 1:45 and waited. We had eaten a light lunch and even that small amount of food – a cup of soup and a half a sandwich – did not go down easily into my stomach. Ten minutes later the judge entered from his chambers with Miles and Lila following. When everyone was seated in their proper place the bailiff called the court to order and Judge Conyers said, “Does either attorney have anything further to add before I render my decision?”
They both said, “No, your honor.”
“Fine. I rule in favor of the plaintiff. Daniel Boyland will have the visitation requested commencing immediately. Can you two attorneys work together to draft this agreement in an expeditious manner?”
They both answered in the affirmative.
“Then this case is closed except for my following remarks, which I want on the record. You have won your quest to see your children, Mr. Boyland, but the road going forward may be more difficult than the one you’ve already traveled. Your children – Kelly and Patrick – do not wish to see you. Their mother has poisoned their minds beyond my ability to reason with them. They believe you are a monster, a murderer, a betrayer, and evil on a par with the devil himself. I believe only intensive therapy with a competent child psychologist could get them to believe otherwise. I truly hope, Ms. Haines, that you had no part in this process of twisting their minds.”
“No, your honor, of course not.”
“Good, because I am giving you the task of convincing your client of the error of her ways. But first I will speak to her privately in my chambers tomorrow morning. If she fails to appear, I will issue a warrant for her arrest. Is that clear, Ms. Haines?”
“Yes, your honor.”
“Mr. Boyland, I have made a room available for you to see your children. I would like both attorneys to be present at this first meeting. I might also suggest that it might not be a good idea to have your new wife present this first time.”
“He’s right,” Tara whispered.
“Yes, your honor,” I said. “I agree with all your suggestions.”
“Good. Proceed to room 317, and I’ll also see you tomorrow morning, Ms. Haines – with your client.”
I arose on shaky legs as Tara grabbed my hand and said, “Good luck. I’ll be waiting here for you or outside in the hall.”
I nodded and followed Miles and Lila to room 317. We entered to find Patrick and Kelly seated glumly in spoke-backed wooden chairs. The last time I had seen them had been the day before my arrest almost three years ago. Patrick had just turned eleven in April and Kelly was now eight. And, of course, they had changed dramatically in those three years, both in size and appearance. The lump in my throat almost prevented me from speaking. I choked out, “Hi, Pat. Hi, Kelly.”
They glanced at me then looked down without saying a word. I pulled up a chair close to them and said, “I know you are not happy to have to see me, but I am very happy to see you. I plan to visit with you as often as I can get down from New York.”
Patrick looked up with defiance in his eyes and said, “I don’t ever want to see you again. Why do you want to see us?”
“I am your father and I love the both of you very much, and I miss you both – that’s why.”
“You’re not our father anymore. You left us and mom. And you’re a murderer – an evil man.”
“Yes, I did leave you and that was the greatest mistake I ever made in my life. But I am not a murderer, and I am not evil. I’m just a regular guy who screwed up big time. Now I want to set things straight and be a small part of your lives.”
Patrick looked over at Lila and said, “Can we go home now, Ms. Haines?”
Lila looked at me and I nodded. “Sure, children,” she said, “we can go now.”
They went out the door, Lila first followed by Patrick then by my golden-haired little girl. She turned and there was a tear in her eye. She said softly, “Bye, Daddy.”
That broke my heart. I sank back into my chair and wept for several minutes before I began to calm down. Miles patted me on the shoulder and said, “The worst is over. Things will get better from here on.”
When I had returned to the courtroom from the meeting with my children I must have looked awful. Seeing my red-rimmed eyes and red nose Tara knew I had been crying – a lot. “Let’s get out of here,” I said. “I’ll tell you about it on the drive back north.” But, so far, as Tara drove north on I-81, I had told her nothing.
Tara finally broke the silence saying, “It’s getting near six o’clock. You want to stop and get something to eat and look for a motel?”
“Whatever. I’m not hungry.”
I knew Tara wanted to snap me out of my mood, but she wisely kept quiet and continued driving. She exited at Staunton and pulled up to a Best Western that had an attached restaurant. “I’ll be right back,” she said leaving the car parked near the lobby. She was back in five minutes with a key and drove the car around to the side of the building. “Let’s go,” she said. “We’re in room 142.”
We carried our bags in and washed up. “I’m hungry,” she said. “Let’s walk over to the restaurant.”
“Let’s stop in the bar first,” I said.
“Sure, I could use a drink myself.”
We sat at a small table in the lounge area of the bar and I took a large swallow of my Jamison’s on the rocks. “They hate me. My kids hate me.”
“Tell me about it.”
I did and when I finished I said, “Oh, on the way out Kelly said ‘Bye, Daddy.’ It damn near broke my heart.”
“Then why are you so down? Those two words show that Jeanie didn’t completely twist that little girl’s brains. She called you Daddy, after all.”
I straightened up a bit and looked Tara in the eyes. “Yes, I guess she did.”
“You aren’t beaten in this fight. We’ve only begun to fight that bitch.”
“We?”
“You bet. I’m in this with you all the way.”
For the first time since yesterday, I smiled. “Thanks, that helps a lot. Hey, I’m a little hungry myself.”
We stayed four more days in Virginia hiking, sightseeing, making love and eating in fine local restaurants. I had forced myself to snap out of my misery for Tara’s sake. She needed this little vacation as much as I did. I pushed Jeanie and Lila Milgram-Haines into a far corner of my mind.
It was time to leave the green hills of Virginia and head back to the grit and grime of the City of New York. The squad would be waiting for me, but Patrick and Kelly would not. Tara noticed the gloom descending on me the closer we got to the city. When we pulled up to our apartment late Monday night she said, “We have one more day off before we go back to work. Let’s enjoy it while we can.”
It was a several months after this crushing visit with my kids that I got a call from Frankie – long distance from California. He said he had just mustered out of the Navy and decided to start a life in the land of fruits and nuts – a term he used, and which we both had a good laugh over.
“Why California?” I asked.
“I spent some time here in the Navy and I really like it,” he said.
“San Diego?” I asked.
“Mostly, but I’m going to stay in Los Angeles. More education opportunity there. I took your advice about school and I saved a lot of my pay.”
“Good for you. I wish you all the best. Put the past behind you and go for it.”
“I will, Detective…er, Danny.”
Then I remembered something – Los Angeles – the last place Angela Chandler’s car had turned up. Was Frankie’s settling down there just a coincidence? “Okay,” I said, “when you get settled in give me a call and let me now where you are living. And, of course, if you ever come back to New York, be sure to look me up.”
“I sure will,” he said. “Well, so long for now. And thanks for being a friend.”
“Good-bye Frankie,” I said wondering as I hung up the phone if I would ever see or hear from him again. A pang of guilt spread through my body as I recalled his words of thanks to me – thanks for being a friend – not much of a friend, I thought. I sure could have done more for him than keep his bicycle, his only possession from his past life, in my garage. That was for damn sure.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
On occasion I think of Frankie Chandler, especially when I notice his old bike parked in a dusty area of my small garage. He never called me again from California to tell me his address and phone number and I guess he never will. The Chandlers were now all relegated to “the cases of my past,” but I always wondered if Frankie had put any effort into finding his mother out in Los Angeles. And if he ever found her, I would have loved to have been a fly on the wall for that confrontation.
Now things have seemed to calm down for me and Spider and we handle our cases professionally and routinely. No super whodunits have come our way in a long time and things are actually a bit boring. Spider and I were catching up on paperwork and waiting for the phone to ring when he said, “Hey, partner, now that it’s quiet it seems like a good time to tell me about your first homicide case here.”
“Huh? You already know all there is to know about the Dragon Lady.”
“No, the one before that. The one you seemed embarrassed about and said it was a story you’d tell me when you got to know me better.”
“Oh,” I said shaking my head and sm
iling. “That one. Yeah, I guess I can tell you now. But you’d better not laugh at me, or I’ll smack you upside your head.”
“Why would I laugh at you, Danny?”
“Here’s why. I was brand new in the squad and it was my first night alone to catch cases and I was terrified. I was afraid I’d catch a real bad one and not know what to do. My time started at midnight and a bunch of us were having a drink in Mulvaney’s on the four-to-twelve tour. I was sitting with Tara and Denny Chin and was just finishing my second beer, which was all I was going to have. I certainly didn’t want to respond to my first homicide in a drunken state.”
“I can understand that,” Spider said. “I didn’t have a drop of alcohol at all. So what happened?”
Tara said to me, “So, Danny, tonight’s the night. Catching cases all alone on the midnight shift. Nervous?”
“A bit. How did yours go?”
“Nice and quiet. I left the office at one a.m., went home to bed and the phone never rang all night.”
“I wasn’t so lucky,” Denny Chin said. “I caught a murder/suicide at 2:30 a.m., but I was done with it by noon.”
“I just hope I don’t catch a real complicated mystery,” I said. “I don’t know if I’m ready for it yet.”
“Sure you are,” Tara said, “you’ve come along very quickly. You’ll be fine.”
“Thanks, I’m leaving here right after this beer. I’ll go keep Lana company back in the office.”
I left Mulvaney’s fifteen minutes later and was back in the office by eight. Lana Pearson, whose nickname was Queenie based on her resemblance to Queen Latifah, was catching cases on the four-to-twelve, and therefore not allowed to join the meeting at Mulvaney’s. The two other detectives working four-to-twelve with me and Lana were Rube Wilson and Fred Fritzi Lange. Lana had had a quiet evening thus far, and we put on a pot of coffee and quietly caught up with our paperwork. Around 9:45 or so, Lana got up from her chair, stretched, yawned and said, “I feel it in my bones, I do.”