FORGOTTEN

by Hastings, Gary

  “Aren’t you the Chief of D’s?” The officer asked.

  “Yes sir, young man, but right now, I’m just one cop helping another cop.”

  “Thanks, Chief. I’ll never forget this.”

  “Just lock him up. Thanks for doing your job.”

  Other RMP’s were screaming into the area. Pat used his portable to let them know the 10-13 was over. It felt good to do police work, and it also helped Pat get away from the Butelli case. Pat enjoyed being unpredictable and just showing up around the city. One night, he left his apartment after hearing a 10-13 in his block. He had been to a formal dinner and still had his tuxedo on. When he stepped around the corner in his tuxedo, two suspects who were trying to escape just froze looking at the man with a gun so formally dressed. One of the suspects turned to the officer and said. “Who in the hell was that? James Bond?” The story made it through the department like wild fire. Things like this had contributed to Pat’s reputation as being a cop’s cop.

  He spent several more hours riding around the city. Stopping in a couple of precincts, he chatted with detectives in the squad. Pat realized he felt a little guilty for having been so obsessed with the Butelli case, but he also knew this case would never go away until Daniel Pellegrino was arrested. The case might be on the back burner for now, but it would never come off of Pat O’Connor’s radar screen.

  Chapter 57

  Thursday, March 3 - Day 44

  Police Commissioner’s Office - One Police Plaza

  Borough of Manhattan, New York

  0900 Hours

  Pat O’Connor went to Commissioner Longstreet’s office unannounced. The commissioner was in and motioned for him to come into the office. Commissioner Longstreet stood up and greeted him. “It’s good to see you, Patty. Are you keeping my city safe?”

  “We’re doing the best we can, Commissioner. I think the numbers are looking pretty good, as you saw at the last COMPSTAT.”

  “I agree. The Detective Bureau puts a lot of perps behind bars. What brings you to the ivory towers today, my friend?”

  “Nothing good, I’m afraid. We’ve reached the point of twiddling our thumbs on the Butelli case. We have absolutely no leads on the whereabouts of Daniel Pellegrino and we’re at a standstill. The Manhattan DA is willing to prosecute Pellegrino if we can find him. The case is partially circumstantial with a lot of hearsay evidence, but he thinks it’s prosecutable. Cold cases are difficult, but he likes what we’ve put together.”

  “Who’s the prosecutor?”

  “Tom Bronson, himself.”

  “Wow, how did you pull that off?”

  “We had a conversation.”

  “I’m sure he was taught some great moral lesson by Patrick O’Connor, which persuaded him to take the case.”

  Pat smiled. “Why do you say that, Commissioner?”

  “Because that is what Pat O’Connor does when he wants you to do something. You’re a master at inducing guilt.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “Where do we go from here, Patty?”

  “I’ve returned most of the task force to their assignments. The lead detective will hang on until all the paperwork is completed. The Marshals are still working Pellegrino as a fugitive case. Karla Adams is the best weapon we have at finding him, but no leads are coming forth. They have everything flagged, but no sign of our target.”

  “I appreciate the update, Patty. I know you’ve done your best. Have you let the Chief of Department know?”

  “No sir, and I still want to keep a press lid on this. If we continue to strike out, I might consider a press blitz, but for now the less he knows about our interest, the better chance we have of nailing him.”

  “You never want to tell the media anything, Patty, until you’ve made the collar.”

  Chapter 58

  Sunday, March 27 - Day 68

  Chief of Detectives’ Residence

  Borough of Manhattan

  2330 Hours

  Over three weeks had passed since the last task force meeting. There had been no developments in the search for Daniel Pellegrino. He had not used any of the flagged accounts, and his sister’s residence had produced no potential leads. Pat was contemplating the media blitz and maybe releasing flyers to the media, taking the Marshals up on their offer, or even getting a world-wide fugitive bulletin distributed through Interpol. However, his gut told him to wait.

  The last three weeks had passed quickly. Pat had made a lot of time for Maggie, and they were together almost every weekend. The President had visited New York without incident, and Maggie had been relieved ever since Air Force One had wheels up. Dickie was back to his old job as Pat’s driver, and Mary McDonald had been back at Manhattan North Homicide for over two weeks.

  Pat had watched the 11:00 news and was reading in bed when his cell phone rang. It was from a restricted number.

  “Pat O’Connor.”

  “Hello, Chief. It’s Ken Helms. I’m sorry for calling so late.”

  “No problem, Ken. What can I do for you?”

  “We need to meet as soon as possible. How about our usual location at 10:00 am?”

  “That sounds good.”

  The phone went dead. Pat’s heart was beating rapidly as he anticipated what the CIA had developed. Sleeping tonight would be difficult. He wanted to call someone and tell them, but at this point there was nothing to tell. He hoped there would be something to tell soon. He would be at the Staten Island Ferry Terminal well before 1000 hours.

  Chapter 59

  Monday, March 28 - Day 69

  Staten Island Ferry Terminal

  Borough of Manhattan, New York

  0945 Hours

  Pat O’Connor wanted to be very careful about the meeting with Ken Helms. He knew Ken was out on a limb working with the NYPD. To be safe, Pat walked a couple of blocks from One Police Plaza and then hailed a cab for the short ride to the Staten Island Ferry Terminal. Arriving at about 0945 hours, he entered the terminal and purchased a ticket. He turned around and saw Ken Helms reading a newspaper. He started toward him, but Ken discreetly shook his head. Pat took a seat elsewhere. He hoped Ken was just being careful.

  At 1000 hours sharp they boarded the ferry. Pat decided to take a seat and let Ken Helms approach him. During the short ride across, he made no contact. Pat was starting to worry about what was going on, but he had never worked with spies before. They disembarked on Staten Island and Ken Helms disappeared into the crowd. Pat got a hot dog and sat down on a bench. He waited until 1100 hours and then boarded the return ferry. He bought a novel to read from the terminal news stand and took a seat away from other passengers. The ferry began the journey and there was no sign of Ken Helms.

  Pat’s cell phone vibrated.

  “Pat O’Connor.”

  “Hi Pat, it’s Ken. I’m sorry for the run-a-round, but I need you to meet me on the Staten Island side at 2:00.”

  “What’s going on, Ken?”

  “I’ve had something come up. I’ll see you at 2:00 on the Staten Island side.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  Pat didn’t know what to think. He didn’t know Ken Helms very well, and he couldn’t help but wonder if he was somehow being set up by someone. He had completely trusted Ken’s dad, so he had to trust the son, but the hair on the back of his neck was starting to tingle.

  Pat had two hours to kill. He was afraid to go back to One PP because he could easily get sidetracked and get stuck. He decided to call Angela Wilson and tell her he was at the dentist, a little white lie to cover his tracks.

  Pat found a little Italian place a few blocks from the terminal and went inside and grabbed a booth. He ordered a chicken parmesan sub and chips. A dozen scenarios were going through his mind. He nibbled on the sub and was able to kill over an hour. He slowly made his way back to the ferry and started the journey back to Staten Island on the 1:30 pm ferry. When the ferry docked, he disembarked and took a seat in the terminal. He pulled the novel out of his pocket and sta
rted reading. After about 20 minutes, his cell phone rang.

  “Pat O’Connor.”

  “Okay Pat, walk out of the terminal and go to the right. Walk slowly and I’ll find you.” Ken instructed.

  “I’m on the way.”

  Pat stepped into the men’s room and removed one of his .357 Magnums from his ankle holster and placed it in the right pocket of his grey wool top coat. He was admittedly nervous, an unusual feeling for New York’s Chief of Detectives.

  Pat walked slowly as instructed and in a block he saw Ken Helms seated on a bench. He sat down beside him.

  “I’m sorry about all the damn intrigue, Pat. I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but when I got on the ferry, I spotted two Iranian agents. Of course, they’re officially diplomats. They are pretty high on our interest chart, so I had to get someone out here and see what kind of monkey business they were up to this morning.”

  “They were probably meeting with the North Koreans.”

  “No, they did that last week.”

  “I’m sorry I mentioned it.”

  “No problem. It’ll probably be on CNN anyway.”

  “So, what can you tell me, Ken?”

  “I assure you that you’ll be livid when I’m through.”

  “Don’t tell me we’ve lost him.”

  “No. At least not yet. Daniel Pellegrino is living in Germany on the Winestrasse near the French border in a little town called Dedesfeltd. He has a nice house and appears to be quite comfortable.”

  “You’re kidding me! I know that town well. It’s not all that far from Frankfurt. I’ve played in music festivals there several times.”

  “Oh that’s right, I remember my dad saying you were quite a good trumpet player.”

  “I have my moments. So why am I going to be upset?”

  “Daniel Pellegrino had some help getting into Germany. He’s a Bureau asset. After Donald Harrison was arrested and Pellegrino was on the run, he went to the FBI and claimed that he could turn them on to Donald Harrison’s international arms dealing. They set him up in Germany, because it’s close to the American military bases in Frankfurt. It’s my understanding that as of yet, Pellegrino has failed to produce.”

  “Is he in the Witness Protection Program, or does he have some kind of immunity?”

  “Not at all. He’s fair game, although the boys in the Bureau will be pissed.”

  “I’ve had about enough of their incompetence and arrogance.” Pat said.

  “Trust me. There are a few who go after the bad guys, just like you.”

  Ken handed Pat his thumb drive back and told him that everything they had about Daniel Pellegrino’s location was on it. Pat asked one last question.

  “How recent is this information?”

  “He was there this morning.”

  “Thanks, my friend.”

  “You bet, and please catch one more for my old man.”

  Chapter 60

  Monday, March 28 - Day 69

  Chief of Detectives’ Office - One Police Plaza

  Borough of Manhattan, New York

  1600 Hours

  Pat took a cab back to One PP. His mind was racing 90 miles-per-hour. He closed his door and immediately called Captain Bryan Flannery. He didn’t answer. Pat left a message for him to return the call. He got on the internet and started looking for flights to Frankfurt, Germany. It seemed there were no flights available at this late notice. He found a Lufthansa flight leaving out of JFK at 5:30 pm on Tuesday evening which would arrive in Frankfurt at about 6:30 am German time on Wednesday morning. He printed the schedule and circled it.

  Pat called Mary McDonald.

  “Manhattan North Homicide, Detective McDonald.”

  “Mary, its Pat O’Connor. I need you at One PP forthwith.”

  “Yes sir, what’s up?”

  “I’ll tell you when you get here. If you can find your captain, bring him as well.”

  “He’s tied up in a murder trial all week, Chief.”

  “Okay, that would be that mob hit case. I forgot about that trial starting this week. Well, get here as soon as possible.”

  “I’m on my way.”

  Pat had planned on sending Bryan and Mary to Germany, but with Bryan in trial he would have to get someone else. He called Karla Adams.

  “Adams.”

  “Pat O’Connor here. Do you have a passport?”

  “No sir. I’ve always meant to get one, but never got around to it.”

  “How about Wilbur?”

  “Not a chance, he’s afraid of planes. What’s up?”

  “Not sure yet, but I’ll call you if I need some help.”

  “Thanks, boss. I’m sorry.”

  “Forget about it, Karla.”

  Mary McDonald came into the office. Pat could tell by her flushed face that she had been rushing.

  “Mary, please close the door.”

  “Yes sir, Chief, what’s going on?”

  “Pellegrino is living in Germany. We have an address.”

  “Wow! Have we checked it out?” Mary asked.

  “He was there this morning. The information is good.”

  “So what do we do? Call the German cops? Maybe call Interpol?”

  “It’s not that simple. Pellegrino is a snitch for the FBI and they helped him relocate in Germany. If we call Interpol or even the Marshals, the FBI Legal Attaché at the American Embassy will surely find out and they may make him disappear again.”

  “Can you believe this? So how did we get the information?”

  “I called in a favor.”

  “I won’t ask. What are we going to do?”

  “I think we’re going to Germany. If I remember correctly, you have a passport don’t you?”

  “Yes sir. I got it a couple of years ago when my mom and I went to Ireland.”

  “I’m going to try to get us on a flight tomorrow night. There is a Lufthansa flight leaving at 5:30 pm. It gets us into Frankfurt about 6:30 Wednesday morning. Get your files together and we’ll meet here tomorrow afternoon at 1400.”

  “Yes sir, I’m excited.”

  “Me too, Mary, we’re getting close.”

  Chapter 61

  Tuesday, March 29 - Day 70

  Police Commissioner’s Office - One Police Plaza

  Borough of Manhattan, New York

  0830 Hours

  Pat was in the office by 0700 hours. He cleared his paperwork, cleaned out the dozens of emails, and made a list of things to do before his anticipated flight to Frankfurt. At 0830 hours he phoned the commissioner and asked for some time. The commissioner was available and told Pat to come to his office.

  Pat walked into the office and the commissioner’s secretary waived him back. Pat walked into the commissioner’s dark paneled office and closed the door.

  “You’re at it early this morning, Patty. What’s up?”

  “We think we have a fix on Daniel Pellegrino.”

  “That’s great news. Where is the bastard hiding?”

  “Germany, about 75 kilometers from Frankfurt.”

  “Have we picked him up yet?”

  “No. It’s not that simple.”

  “Are the feds handling it?”

  “No, they really can’t right now. It’s complicated.”

  “You know, Patty, I was an ADA. You simply contact the feds, they contact Interpol, they contact the German Police, and the whole extradition thing starts.”

  “Well, in normal cases you’re exactly right, but in this case, we have to work differently. Daniel Pellegrino is hooked up with the FBI as an informant.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me!” The commissioner said in disbelief.

  “No. It’s apparently true. When Donald Harrison was arrested in the Rodriguez case, Pellegrino went to the Bureau and convinced them he could turn them on to Harrison’s international arms dealing. They helped him relocate to Germany. He doesn’t have immunity and isn’t in Witness Protection. He’s just tucked away.”

  “So,
how in the hell did you find him?”

  “Resourceful detective work. I’m the Chief of Detectives.”

  “I probably don’t want to know. What’s the plan?”

  “Mary McDonald and I are going to Germany tonight.”

  “That’s not happening, Patty. Mary might go, but you’re staying put!”

  “I really need to go on this one, Commissioner.”

  “Hell no! You need to forget about it. It’s not happening.”

  “You don’t understand, Commissioner.”

  “I understand that sometimes you simply refuse to be an executive. You have to work every high profile case like you’re the lead detective, Patty. You have several thousand detectives who you obviously don’t have any confidence in at all. I need you to handle your duties as Chief of Detectives.”

  “Commissioner, I tried to use Bryan Flannery, but he’s tied up in court all week. Karla Adams and Wilbur Stone from the fugitive task force don’t have passports. There’s no one else who knows the case inside out like I do, and I have the source who provided the information. I actually am very familiar with the little town where he is hiding out. I’ve been there several times playing my horn. This is a delicate case and if we catch his ass, we’ll clear two murders in the city and one upstate. Plus, we arrest him for his role in Tony Rodriguez’s murder. It’ll be a good press day for the NYPD. It may require some juice to pull this off, and I have the horsepower to make it happen.”

  “Who would you work with over there, if I approved it?”

  “Herbert Mueller from the Counter-Terrorism Bureau is doing some work in Frankfurt right now. He’s made major inroads with the German cops.”

  “I suppose you speak German.”

  “No, but Herb Mueller does. He’s fluent.”