“Saved room for what?”
“How ’bout a nice pecan ball? Piece a pie maybe, huh?”
“He know what he’s sayin’, you think? Or this just part of his act?”
“Right now I don’t care. Turn him around and I’ll cuff him. Listen to me, Mr. Scavelli. You listenin’? You make a wrong move here, you’re gonna get hurt, you hear me? You stabbed a friend of mine. That makes me really angry. So you don’t wanna get hurt, just turn around and put your hands behind you.”
“Don’t eat too much … save room for dessert … got all kindsa pie … banana cream, chocolate cream, apple, cherry, rhubarb.”
“He’s not gonna move, pull his ankles out and turn him around.”
Rayford reached down and pulled Scavelli’s ankles until the old man’s back slid down his storm door.
It sounded to Rayford as though every dog on two blocks was barking and howling. So was Scavelli. He was barking. Like a dog.
“Now listen to him, Jesus Christ.”
“Hey, Mr. Scavelli? Stop that and listen. You’re under arrest for assault, aggravated assault, assault with a prohibited offensive weapon, assault on a police office, aggravated assault on a police officer, assault with a prohibited offensive weapon on a police officer, attempted homicide on a police officer. You have the right to remain silent—”
Scavelli interrupted his barking to say, “I fell down. I, uh, broke my ankle. Needa go to the hospital.”
“If your ankles broke, how come you didn’t holler when I grabbed it just now?”
“Your ankle’s not broken, you just scraped your shin. Hope you fell in somebody’s dog shit.”
“Speakin’ of which, one of y’all’s really stinkin’, man.”
Reseta blew out a sigh as he pulled Scavelli around, cuffed him, and continued advising him of his rights. “You have the right to an attorney. If you can’t afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. You understand what I just said to you?”
“Gonna have any dessert today? Piece a pie maybe?”
“This ol’ fart ain’t goin’ do a day, is he?”
“He will waitin’ for his trial. After that, who knows? You stay with him, I’ll go get my car.”
“Hey, you got any plastic cuffs on you?”
“What for? Where’s yours?”
“I didn’t cuff the one I shot, he’s—”
“Wait wait! You shot somebody? Who? When?”
“Hornyak. He was comin’ at me—”
“You shot him?!”
“Yeah. What’s wrong with you? Told you twice already, you didn’t hear him moanin’ and groanin’ back there?”
“You shot him? Where?”
“On the sidewalk between his house and Buczyk’s.”
“No I mean where’d you shoot him, where on his body?”
“Hey! My ankle hurts. It’s busted. I needa go—”
“Shuddup! Nothin’ wrong with your ankle—where’d you shoot him?”
“In the knee. He was comin’ at me. Wouldn’t get on the ground.”
“Oh man, why’d you do that—you just walked into a shit storm.”
“Huh? Walked into what? Whatchu talkin’ about?”
“Better pray he doesn’t die. Get back there and make sure he’s still alive. And get a wagon.”
“I requested three already. Probably there now. Think I heard one right before I heard him moanin’. I know I did.”
“Get back there, man, go on. I’ll stay here. Go on, get goin’.”
“Why you soundin’ like that, man, you scarin’ me.”
“Rayf, I shot a guy in Nam. I’ll tell you about it sometime.”
“Thought you shot lotsa people over there.”
“Uh-uh. This one was on our side. Get goin’, man, show some concern.”
“What? Show concern?! Fucker’da got up, next one was goin’ in his heart. He started for me right after Boo got stabbed.”
“Go show some concern, I’m tellin’ you! It’ll go a long way, believe me, EMTs see you. Don’t argue with me, Rayf, just do it.”
“I don’t b’lieve this,” Rayford said, but he didn’t argue any more. He took off trotting on the sidewalk around the Scavellis’ house, on Bryan Avenue. He wasn’t going to risk slipping and failing in dog crap by going through the Buczyks’ backyard.
When he got around to the front of the Buczyks’ house, Bucyzk’s wife and dogs were out on the sidewalk hovering over him. The dogs were licking his face and whimpering and whining. Rayford went out into the street to avoid them.
Another ambulance, its light bar going, was in the middle of the street, its back doors open. This crew of EMTs was preparing to lift Hornyak onto a gurney. Hornyak was hissing, moaning, and cursing Buczyk, his wife, the EMTs, and Rayford.
Rayford hurried to the foot of the gurney and asked how Hornyak was doing.
“That’s the one shot me, the sonofabitch. Just standin’ there, front of my own house, mindin’ my own business, he shoots me. No reason, nothin’. No warnin’, no nothin’. Just shoots me.”
“How’s he doin’?”
“Oh like you care?”
“I’m not talkin’ to you, Mr. Hornyak, okay?”
“Oh listen to him now, now its Mis-ter Hornyak. ’Fore he shoots me, it’s hey, hunky, shuddup. Then he shoots me. I wasn’t sayin’ nothin’. Only one on the force, you ain’t gonna be hard to find. And my lawyer’s gonna find you, bet your ass on that!”
“Who’s the crew chief here?”
“I am.”
“You wanna step over here and tell me how he is?” Rayford stepped out into the street just as a minivan was pulling up. A teenage girl got out and ran to Joe Buczyks side, calling out, “OhmyGod, ohmyGod, what’s goin’ on? What happened? Daddy?!”
The two dogs who’d been hovering around Joe Buczyk left him and ran to her, jumping on their hind legs, barking, wagging their tails. She stumbled over them and almost fell. “What’s goin’ on? What’s happening? Mom? Daddy? Why you—why you got handcuffs on?
“It’s alright, everything’s alright, don’t get excited,” Joe Buczyk said.
“You too, Buczyk,” Pete Hornyak called out as he was being lifted into the wagon. “Lawyers gonna find you too. Real easy!”
“Soon as we get him in, Officer, I’ll tell you,” the crew chief said to Rayford.
A city-owned unmarked Chevy tried to pull around the minivan, backed up, and then pulled onto the Bryan Avenue side of the Buczyk house. A moment later, Detective Sergeant Ruggiero Carlucci came walking around the corner and up to Rayford.
“Whatta we got here, William?”
“Big mess is what we got.”
“Okay,” the crew chief said, after his crew had loaded Hornyak. “I can give you about thirty seconds.”
“How’s he doin’, that’s all I wanna know.”
“Well, barring unforeseen complications, he’s not gonna die, if that’s what you’re worried about. Course he’s not gonna be walkin’ real good from now on either. Went right through his kneecap, the patella.”
“No artery bleedin’?” Carlucci said.
“Not that I could see, no. Guess it just missed the femoral. Gotta go, okay?”
“Yeah, get goin’,” Rayford said.
“You shot him, right?” Carlucci said.
Rayford nodded.
“Any witnesses besides you?”
“Haven’t asked anybody yet.”
“What’s his story?” Carlucci said, pointing with his thumb over his shoulder at Joe Buczyk. One of Buczyk’s dogs came bounding out to where they were standing and jumped against Carlucci’s leg, pushing him slightly off balance.
Carlucci bent down and gave the dog a scratch behind the ears and a rub on the chest. “What’s up, doggie? Didn’t happen to see the good officer shoot the bad man, did ya?”
Carlucci looked back at Rayford. “Canoza got stabbed, is that right?”
“Yeah.”
“He alright? You know?”
“He was awake and alert when he left here, I haven’t heard otherwise.”
“So what’s his story again?” Carlucci nodded toward Joe Buczyk.
“He was part of the original beef. Him and Hornyak, the guy next door—”
“I know ’em both,” Carlucci said.
“Well they were beefin’—I still don’t know what it was about this time. Then Boo showed up. Then the Scavellis stuck their noses into it. I told Boo stay on the sidewalk, watch these two, Hornyak and Buczyk there, and I go try to get the Scavellis to go home. Next thing I know Boo’s standin’ beside me, I ran back out here, and Hornyak’s windin’ up to kick him in the ass, Buczyk there. Gets him in one leg, then kicks him in the other one. He goes down, I’m tellin’ Hornyak to back off, and then I hear Boo screamin’ and cussin’.”
“Wait wait, don’t get ahead of yourself here. Why you got him cuffed? You gonna arrest him? Buczyk?”
“That’s what I wanna know,” said the teenage girl, obvious now to Rayford that she was Buczyk’s daughter, though he’d never seen her before. She was pulling anxiously on the cuffs of her sweatshirt. “Why did you do that? If Pete kicked him, why did you put those on my dad?”
“At the time I had other problems, young lady.”
“What’s your name, miss?” Carlucci said, holding up his ID case for her to see.
“Janet. You gonna arrest him? My dad?”
“Not sure yet. How long’ve you been here, Janet?” Carlucci said.
“Just got here. Coupla minutes ago. Two maybe.”
“People in that van there,” Carlucci said, looking back at the minivan, “they friends of yours?”
“Yes.”
“Do they live on this street?”
“No.”
“Well how ’bout you tell ’em you’re alright and there’s nothin’ to see here and they should go home, okay?”
“Okay,” she said, and went across the street to talk to the driver. When she stepped away from the van, it started backing out onto Bryan Avenue and then turned and drove north away from the intersection.
Carlucci tapped Rayford on the arm, crooked his finger at him to follow, then walked across the intersection until they were well out of the hearing of the Buczyks.
“I’m only gonna say this once,” Carlucci said, “so pay attention. I don’t care what you did or why. But when I ask you a question about what you did or why you did it, don’t lie to me. If it happened, don’t leave it out, and if it didn’t happen, don’t put it in. Don’t minimize anything, don’t exaggerate anything, you got me? And don’t think I won’t find out what happened. ’Cause that’s what I’m good at.”
“Okay,” Rayford said. “Uh, is this the beginning of the shit storm?”
“The what?”
“Reseta, uh, that’s what he said.”
“Well, you could put it that way, I guess. But here’s the facts, just so you know what’s comin’ and why. And the only reason I’m tellin’ you this is ’cause I know you’re a smart guy. I know you passed the sergeant’s test, and I know Nowicki’s seriously been thinkin’ of makin’ you a detective ’cause he talked to me about it. He asked me what I think about ya. And I told him.”
Rayford said nothing.
“You don’t wanna know what I said?”
“Not right now, no. Right now I wanna know about these facts you said you were goin’ tell me so I can know what’s comin’.”
“Okay. Right now what you gotta understand is, soon as you turn in your UIR, Nowicki’s gonna have to turn it over to the Safety Committee on council. Twenty, twenty-one years ago, approximately, there was an officer-involved shooting, and everybody on City Council found out at that time there was no procedure for them to go through to investigate it, so they hada set up this ad hoc committee. You know what that means?”
“Yeah. For some special purpose or reason, right?”
“Right. Well, the local paper got hold of it and the Pittsburgh papers picked it up, and council got their onions crushed big-time about not havin’ any special procedure, and so forth, and, uh, you know what happens when politicians get their onions crushed in public, they get all carried away, and so they wrote up this plan for this board of inquiry just for this one purpose, and that’s to investigate officer-involved shootings. So what’s gonna happen—”
“Who’s on it?”
“Huh? I’m not sure now. Used to be the chief and the Safety Committee. But then that got changed and I don’t know why so don’t ask me. Tell ya the truth, council just shuffled committee assignments, so I’m not sure who’s on what. But the mayor has the right to approve who’s on it, that’s for sure. Nowicki knows. Ask him.”
“Okay What’s the rest?”
“The rest is, like I said before, don’t lie. You lie, and you get caught in a lie, it won’t matter what you did or why. All they’ll remember is you lied. And for them that’ll be enough to can your ass. You got me so far?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. Then let’s go find a witness, preferably one with good eyes and good ears. It’d also be good if they were reasonably intelligent and not too fuckin’ nuts.”
“You don’t wanna interview me first?”
“I’ll get to that, just let’s see if we can’t find somebody who saw you shoot him. Who called it in, the original beef?”
“Lady across the street.”
“Okay. I’ll take her first, you try the two wives, okay? Where’s Reseta by the way? Thought he responded to this. That’s what Stramsky said. No?”
“He’s with Scavelli.”
“What’s he doin’ with him?”
“That’s who stabbed Boo. Didn’t I say that before?”
“Not to me you didn’t. I just asked you if it was true he got stabbed.”
“Well that’s who it was—oh shit.”
“What?”
“She’s in the backseat of his MU.”
“Who?”
“Canoza’s—Mrs. Scavelli. He put her in his MU. Right after he picked her up is when her old man stabbed him.”
“After he got stabbed, he carried her to his MU? How’d he get her in the backseat if he was stabbed?”
“Ask him, I don’t know, I just saw him do it, that’s all.”
“So she’s still in the backseat?”
“Far as I know, yeah.”
“Checked her out lately?”
“No. I had a few other things goin’ on, you know?”
“Better check her out, see if she’s okay.”
She better be, Rayford thought as he trotted across the intersection and shined his flash through the window into the backseat. Rose Scavelli was sprawled across it.
Just as Rayford opened the back door and started to lean in, two other cars pulled up to the intersection. He waited a moment to see who it was. He recognized the driver of one car as a reporter for the Rocksburg Gazette. The other was obviously a photographer.
Rayford started to lean in and was overcome with the smell of feces. He recoiled, covered his nose, and reached in to feel for a pulse in her neck.
He couldn’t find a pulse. “Oh shit,” he said, moving his finger around on her throat, still trying to find one. “Oh lady, don’t be dead, please don’t be dead. Got-damn.”
He backed up and shut the door and called out, “Hey? Detective? Sergeant Carlucci! C’mere!”
The reporter and photographer were starting toward him.
“Stop where you are!” Rayford called out to them. “This is a crime scene. I know we don’t have the tape up yet, so you don’t needa tell me that, but just stay where you are, we’ll get to you in a little while. And no pictures till we say so, got that?”
The reporter and photographer looked at each other, started talking, but stopped and didn’t make any move to get closer to anybody on the other side of the street.
Carlucci had just knocked on the door of the lady who called in the complaint. He backed up and looked at Rayford, who was wavi
ng his left hand toward himself as though urgently directing traffic.
Carlucci hurried toward Rayford. “What’s up?”
Rayford leaned close to Carlucci and whispered, “Dead.”
“You sure?”
Rayford nodded. “No pulse, no respiration, bowels emptied.”
“Oh man. Oh shit, here we go. Okay, I’ll call the coroner, you get some tape up. We’re gonna do this the right way. You control the scene, tell Reseta get Scavelli booked and locked in, and then get back here fast as he can. Oh good, here comes Nowicki.”
CARLUCCI SET his tape recorder in the middle of the table between himself and Rayford.
“Uh, before we get started here,” Chief Nowicki said, “just so you know, the board of inquiry will be listenin’ to this tape and the tape of your previous interview, and they’ll be comparin’ what you said then and what you say now with how you wrote it up, understand?”
“I understand,” Rayford said.
“Okay, Rugs, turn it on, let’s go.”
Carlucci pushed the record button and said, “Second interview with Rocksburg PD Patrolman William M. Rayford—what’s the ‘M’ stand for, by the way? Meant to ask you last time, I forgot.”
“Milton.”
“Milton?” Carlucci’s eyebrows went up and he smiled. “You don’t look like a Milton.”
“You don’t look like a lotta things you are. And you look like a lotta things you’re not. Want me to name ’em?”
“Okay, sorry I brought it up. Second interview with Patrolman William Milton Rayford, shield number five two nine, in re case number ninety-nine dash four sixteen. Time is 1000 hours, Thursday, April 22nd, 1999. Interview conducted in room A, Rocksburg PD Station, Rocksburg City Hall. Conducting the interview are Rocksburg PD Chief Nowicki and me, Detective Sergeant Carlucci.”
Carlucci put his elbows on the table, laced his fingers together, and leaned his chin on his fingers. “We got some problems.”
“Same ones we had last time?”
“Yeah. If anybody saw you fire the shot that struck Hornyak in the right knee, they’re not willing to say so. I’ve interviewed them all twice. Chief Nowicki has also interviewed them twice, which you know, I believe, correct?”
“Correct, yes.”
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