by Henry Hack
“Are you certain?”
“Believe it or not, yes. Despite what she just put me through – when I hated what she tried to do to me – I still love her. Rita, I need her now more than ever. I hope she still feels the same way about me, but this whole thing with the polygraph and the questioning – please tell me just what the hell is going on here?”
“It’s not complicated. Susan believes she is in love with you, but before she is willing to commit she has to resolve her doubts over you concerning the Winston case.”
“She doesn’t believe me? If she loved me, wouldn’t she believe me?”
“That’s one way to look at it. The other way, from her point of view, is if you truly love her, you should tell the truth.”
“She’s assuming I’m not telling the truth then?”
“Harry, let me be candid here. No one involved in this case believes you.”
“You don’t believe me?”
“No. Come on now, why did you fight the polygraph so desperately? Please give us some credit for being able to detect a lie without the goddamned machine.”
“So everyone’s pissed off because they all believe I’m a liar, but they can’t prove it. The polygraph was your last shot at me and that’s gone now, so you’re all now super pissed at me.”
“That’s right, Harry. You beat us.”
“Then the only way to do me in now is if I were to admit it?”
“Correct.”
“Rita, I don’t have much in life any more. I have the Job. I have, or maybe had, Susan. I have two daughters two hundred miles away who are forgetting what their father looks like. Let’s say, hypothetically of course, you are right. Let’s say in that interview room a few minutes ago, I answered those questions quite differently. What would have happened?”
“I guess Gregorovich would have had you suspended without pay pending the filing of formal charges.”
“Which, with a high likelihood, would result in my termination.”
“Or you could resign.”
“In either case, I lose my job.”
“Yes.”
“Now for the important thing – the big question. Does Susan throw her arms around me with love and respect for finally ‘fessing up? Or does she look at me with disgust, and decides she wants no further involvement with a Judas – a betrayer of his shield – who left an injured man to die on Christmas Day?”
“That’s a tough one.”
“You know her very well. Is she capable of forgiving me for what I did? Can she accept my sin and still love me?”
“I truly do not know.”
“That answer means I probably lose her, too. I lose my job, and Susan. That’s why I can’t confess – assuming I did what you all think I did.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Talk to Susan. Tell her I still love her and I still want to see her. I need some more time. I’m not ready to jump on my sword just yet. I can’t bear the thought of losing Susan and my job. But I will resolve this, I promise you that.”
“I hope you do. I wish you well in your internal battle with your conscience, and for what it’s worth, I believe you are a decent human being and a good cop, despite the Richie Winston chapter in your life.”
“Thanks, that means a lot coming from you. Rita, if it were you instead of Susan, would you forgive me?”
“That’s too hypothetical. After all, we’re not in love, are we? Go home. I’ll talk to her for you.”
“Thanks for listening. Sorry you couldn’t hook me up and fry me today.”
“I was so looking forward to making you sweat. You disappointed me.”
●
Rita walked the short distance to Susan’s office and went in. Susan said, “I went down to see you awhile back, but you were behind closed doors.”
“Yeah, Harry was in with me.”
“He was? I’m surprised you’d even speak with him after that session today – that lying excuse for a cop.”
“Are you and the handsome prince through? And your torrid affair will fade from your memory by tomorrow?”
“How could I continue a relationship with a liar, but also with someone who did what he did? I didn’t want to believe it, but there’s no doubt now.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Don’t tell me you believe him?”
“No, I don’t. But he didn’t admit to it, so there has to be one tiny bit of doubt, doesn’t there?”
“Not as far as I’m concerned.”
“I could see the Russian saying that, but not you. After all, you are supposed to be in love with him. Can’t you give him a break?”
“I do not believe I am in love with Officer Cassidy anymore,” she said, as the tears began to flow.
“Susan, listen to me. He asked me to tell you he still loves you – even after the way you just raked him through the hot coals of hell. He doesn’t want you to give up on him just yet.”
Susan wiped the tears from her eyes and cheeks with the back of her hand and said, “What do you mean?”
“Let me ask you something. Suppose today Harry had come to you in your office before the polygraph test. Suppose the stay had not been granted and Harry got down on his knees and said, ‘Susan, the polygraph test will prove me a liar, so I want to confess to you now and I know it’s going to cost me my job. If I resign and admit what I did, would you still love me? I can give up my job, but I cannot lose you.’”
“But he could have done that anyway, and at any time during the investigation.”
“Yes, he could have, but he didn’t have the guts to do it. But I think he’s getting the guts. He’s coming to a decision soon. Don’t give up on this guy. He’s worthy of salvation. He needs you to help him get through this. He loves you. For God’s sake, give him a chance. Love him back.”
“Just what did Officer Harold T. Cassidy tell you, Sergeant Becker?”
“Nothing on the record, Sergeant Goldman. Nothing at all.”
Chapter Nineteen
Harry patrolled his post along Hempstead Avenue. He had escaped the clutches of Internal Affairs, but that was an illusion. He would give them what they wanted, what they tried to wring from him, but he would do so on his own terms. And what about Susan? He loved her so much, but what did she feel now? Did Rita speak to her yet? What did she say? Susan, Susan, Susan, please don’t leave me. Stand by me. I need you now more than ever.
That night he called her after dinner, but got her machine. Of course, she would be in school. “Susan, it’s Harry. I know you’re in class, but I just called to say hello. Call me when you get a chance. I love you, bye.”
She did not return the call that night or the next day. Harry called her at the office and was told she was in conference and a message would be left for her. This weekend was supposed to be their weekend with each other, finally together. Come on Susan, please call me. He was back in his apartment by 4:15. There were no messages on the machine. He waited, watching the television news and called Susan’s home number at six. The machine answered. “Susan?” Are you home, Susan? Please pick up. I have to speak with you. Please call me. I’ll be home all night.”
He called the following morning at ten and this time she picked up the phone.
“Susan, will you see me? Can we get together this weekend like we were supposed to? Maybe for dinner tonight?”
“No, I don’t think so. I need more time. I need time to think.”
“How long?” How much time do you need?”
“I don’t know. I just don’t know.”
“Susan,” he said with an edge of desperation in his voice, “I need you, I love you. Don’t desert me now, please.”
“I’ll…I’ll…call you. I promise. But until I do, please don’t call me anymore. Good-bye, Harry.”
●
Harry’s phone rang at 11:30 Monday morning and he breathed a sigh of relief until the voice at the other end of the line said, “Harry, it’s Captain Snyder.”
“Listen, I know it’s your day off, but I need to speak with you right away.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Can you come in to my office now? Don’t suit up, civvies will be fine.”
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes, twenty-five if I shave.”
“Don’t shave. I don’t plan on kissing that mug of yours.”
Harry did not ask why Snyder wanted to see him. It was obviously something he didn’t want to communicate on the phone, that was for sure. A sudden fear gripped him as he wondered if Internal Affairs had found another way to come after him. He found the rosary beads and clutched them tightly.
Harry reported in and Snyder said, “I just received a call from the chief of patrol and he informed me you are going to be transferred.”
“Transferred? Why?”
“The Department is taking retribution on all those who refused to take the polygraph voluntarily. Of course, I didn’t tell you that.”
“I see. They had to get their pound of flesh, didn’t they? I’ve been in the Nine-Five my whole career, except for temporary assignments. Where am I going, Captain?”
“I don’t know yet. The order will be out in a few days. I hate to see you go. You are one of my best cops, but I can’t fight the lousy system. And that’s why I dragged you in here instead of telling you on the phone. I wanted to thank you for all the good police work you’ve done for me. I wanted to say good-bye in person. Good luck in your new assignment, wherever it may be.”
Snyder reached across the desk and grasped Harry’s hand and then stood up and hugged him and patted him on the back.
“Thanks, Captain, for standing by me through all of this. I won’t forget you.”
Harry walked down the hall to the detective squad and found Nick and Pop in a small office going over a map. “Hey guys,” he said, “What’s happening?”
Pop looked up over his half glasses and said, “I’ll be damned. Speak of the devil and he walks through the door.”
“We were just going to reach out for you,” Nick said. “A little while ago we got a call from a couple of anti-crime patrol cops in Queens who swear they saw our suspect on the street this morning. By the time they were able to make a u-turn on Roosevelt Avenue and come back he was gone.”
“Where on Roosevelt Avenue?” Harry asked.
“Near 75th Street, in the Seven-Six precinct,” Pop said.
A thought crossed Harry’s mind and he said, “I just came from the Captain’s office and he told me I’m getting transferred in a few days, but I don’t yet know where.”
“What happened?” Pop asked.
“It’s payback for me and all the other cops who refused to voluntarily submit to a polygraph exam after the stay came down. Wouldn’t it be in the best interests of the Department to transfer me to the Seven-Six? After all, I witnessed our suspect up close and personal and I will most certainly recognize him if I see him again.”
“It wouldn’t be because the Seven-Six is in nearby Queens and a short drive or subway ride from your apartment?” Nick asked with a chuckle.
“Queens is a lot better than Staten Island or the north Bronx, I must admit, but I’d go anywhere in the metro area to find our guy. Pop, do you have the juice to swing it?”
“I seriously doubt it. If you are leaving here for disciplinary reasons, real or imagined, this vindictive Job will not listen to reason. They will gleefully send you to the furthest location from your home in a heartbeat. Why not go see Captain Snyder and see if he can make it happen?”
Harry went back down the hall and told the Captain about the sighting in Queens. Snyder picked up the phone and called his boss, the two-star chief in charge of Patrol Boro Nassau. He explained the situation and then listened for a full minute before saying, “Yes, chief, I understand.”
“That didn’t sound promising,” Harry said.
“An understatement if there ever was one. The transfer orders are being prepared by Chief Kelly, the head of all IAD. Any attempts by anyone to try to influence his choices will be severely frowned upon. Even my boss is afraid to call him. Unless you know someone with a lot more juice than me, forget about the Seven-Six.”
“Thanks for trying, Captain,” said Harry thinking, Oh, but I do know someone with the juice to reach Kelly. Now was the time to give Uncle Mike that call.
Harry left the office, went down the stairs and walked slowly past the front desk. He waved at the desk sergeant who was trying to calm down an irate citizen. He went down the front steps into the cold February afternoon and turned back to face the front of the stationhouse. It had been his only home for over ten years. He began here as a slick-sleeved rookie and now he was leaving. He wondered if he would ever return.
●
Susan had not called since they last spoke on Saturday. She was in school every weeknight except Friday. He hoped she would call him then. He wanted to hold her once more, make love, see her beautiful smile and plan a life together. He missed her greatly, but did she miss him? Or was she so upset at not cracking him on the Winston case she was through with him? How would she react when the truth finally came out and his career as a cop was over? He longed for a scotch, but settled for a beer, only his second one since the weekend. He put the bottle down when it was still half-full and reached for his rosary.
Susan’s week had also been nerve wracking. One minute she was sure she loved Harry, the next certain she despised him and wanted him out of her life. She called Rita hoping for some definite answers, but she wasn’t getting any. “You’re not much help, Rita. Come on, you have all the psychological degrees and theories. What do I do?”
“Do you love him?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you hate him?”
“I don’t know.”
“What courses in psychology do you think deal with those answers?”
“I don’t know.”
“We’ve been through this several times. I believe this is one of those situations that cannot be reasoned through to a logical conclusion. This is strictly a matter of the heart, and only your heart can resolve it.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning you have to see him again. How long has it been now?”
“Over a week.”
“And you promised to call him, correct?”
“Yes.”
“When are you going to do it?”
“I don’t know. I hoped he’d call me.”
“You don’t know men, do you?”
“What?”
“Sue, you specifically told him not to call you, so he won’t. Men take things literally. They don’t search for hidden meanings. He’ll wait forever.”
“I’ll call him tomorrow.”
She called on Saturday morning and got his machine. She hung up. She tried again at three. Same response. Where was he? She called Saturday night and this time he answered. “How have you been, Harry?”
“Pretty good, and you?”
“Still hectic with school, but the investigations are slowing down somewhat.”
He suppressed a comment about how sorry he was she didn’t have a lot of cop’s balls to twist, but just said, “That’s good. I miss you terribly.”
“I miss you, too.”
“Can we get together again?”
“How about tomorrow night?”
“That would be great. What time should I pick you up?”
“How about we meet somewhere?”
“Any place in mind?”
“Somewhere where we can talk a little in private, and then have a bite of supper?”
“Let me think a minute. Yeah, do you know Barrister’s in Hicksville?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“They have a nice quiet piano lounge and decent food.”
“Sounds fine. Exactly where is it?”
“In the shopping center on the northwe
st corner of Old Country Road and Newbridge Road. Near the middle of the strip.”
“I’m sure I’ll find it. Is seven good?”
“Seven it is. See you then.”
Both of them took note the other had not said, “I love you.”
●
Harry arrived at Barrister’s at 6:55 and was able to locate a small table away from those occupied by the other couples and groups of four. Fortunately, the lounge was not overly crowded. People were finishing their drinks and leaving for the dining room as the cocktail hour wound down. The waitress came over and set down a bowl of mixed nuts and a small napkin.
“What can I get for you, sir?”
“Nothing now. I’m waiting for someone. We’ll order when she arrives.”
“Very good, sir,” she said, placing a second napkin on the table.
Harry glanced at his watch and nervously chewed on a few nuts. It was 7:08. Was this the usual Susan lateness? Or had she decided to not show up? A few minutes later he caught sight of her at the lounge entrance. The waitress pointed to the table and she walked over to him. She had removed her coat and had it over her arm as she came to him, tall and graceful, wearing that dark-green pantsuit that closely matched the green of her eyes. She smiled as she drew nearer and Harry’s heart jumped as it always did when he saw her. She sat down across from him and said, “Hi.”
“Hi. It’s good to see you.”
The waitress appeared and they ordered drinks – a glass of pinot grigio for her and a glass of cabernet sauvignon for him.
“Wine?” she said. “I would have predicted scotch on the rocks.”
“I guess I am predictable, but sometimes things do change. Tell me, how are things going with your life?”
She spoke about the rigors of night school and the routine inquisitions at Internal Affairs.
“How’s the Russian doing?”
“He’s been calm lately, but you should have seen him when the stay came down from the Supreme Court Justice.”
“I can imagine. He probably had visions of charging up the steps of the court on a horse, brandishing a Cossack sword and screaming for the head of Billingham.”
She laughed and said, “And how about you? How are you coping?”