The Blue Executions

by George Norris

  “Detective Kuhn, can you please once again tell the court when you and your Lieutenant placed the defendant, Police Officer Peter Groff, under arrest, the circumstances that led to the recovery of the half kilo of cocaine?”

  Kuhn glanced at Peter Groff who sat at the wooden defense table on his right along with his defense attorney. Kuhn adjusted his floral print tie, the pink roses matching the shirt under his grey suit perfectly. “As I previously explained, after obtaining a warrant from the court, I had a wiretap placed on Officer Groff’s home telephone as well as his cell phone.”

  The case against Peter Groff was personal for Jack Kuhn. Although Kuhn was currently assigned to the Internal Affairs Bureau, he had worked the majority of his career as a detective in the Brooklyn North Homicide Squad. A career street cop and detective such as Kuhn under normal circumstances, would have never have considered working for Internal Affairs. There was a certain stigma that would follow you around the rest of your career if you worked in any unit that investigated fellow police officers.

  Kuhn’s attitude toward the Internal Affairs Bureau had changed about two years ago. While he was investigating the murder of a uniformed police officer who had seemingly walked in on the middle of a large scale narcotics transaction, Kuhn developed information from a Confidential Informant. The information which the C.I. passed on to Kuhn at first made him go into denial; then outrage. The word on the street was that the officer had been shot once in the head at close range by an off-duty New York City Police Officer who was trying to unload ten ounces of pure heroin on a Brownsville street corner.

  There was some evidence to support the claim as well. It appears that the slain officer never made an attempt to draw his service weapon, which many believe is an indication that the officer either knew his killer or he didn’t feel threatened by him in any way. Secondly, the bullet which ended the officer’s life came from a 9mm, just like the one Officer Groff and thousands of other NYPD cops used. What made Groff stand out from the rest of the cops who carry a 9mm, is that Groff reported his service weapon stolen during the commission of a burglary at his home the very next day.

  Without having Groff’s service weapon, Kuhn couldn’t have it compared to the ballistic evidence found at the scene of the officer’s homicide. Kuhn knew without the critical ballistic evidence to link Groff to the cop killing, prosecuting him for the murder wouldn’t be likely. Frustrated that he would never be charged in the officer’s homicide, Kuhn decided that he would go after Groff for any and all charges that he could. He dutifully reported the allegations of drug dealing to the Internal Affairs Bureau. Having been immediately invited to accept a transfer to Internal Affairs to assist in the case, Kuhn wasted no time in declining the offer.

  A number of factors came together which ultimately changed his mind; there was the promise of Detective First Grade if there was a successful prosecution of Police Officer Groff. Less than two hundred members of the department held that rank, which many consider to be the most prestigious rank within the department. The other major factor was the fact that the C.I. refused to cooperate with any of the other detectives and supervisors. The bosses at Internal Affairs would not let Kuhn handle the C.I. unless he was assigned to their unit. Kuhn was told in no uncertain terms, that the only way in which he could remain a part of the investigation was to accept a transfer to Internal Affairs.

  Kuhn felt as any other cop would feel that Groff needed to go to prison. Justice may never be served for the officer who was brutally gunned down, but Kuhn would honor the slain officer’s memory as best he could. He would do this by putting the drug dealing piece of trash that hid behind a badge in prison for as long as possible. Once Kuhn was officially transferred, the case began to take shape quickly. He built his case with a solid foundation and made sure that there were no loopholes for Groff to slip through. As he sat on the witness stand, Kuhn was confident that this was the case of his career and Detective First Grade was just around the corner.

  Kuhn looked back at Bando and then over to the Judge seated to his immediate right. “After gathering enough evidence from the wiretaps, I had enough probable cause to have an arrest warrant drawn up and endorsed by the Honorable Judge Bolten. The warrant charged the defendant, Peter Groff, with conspiracy to distribute narcotics; to wit cocaine and heroin, money laundering and racketeering.”

  He stared deliberately at Groff as he continued, “When Lieutenant Suarez and I went to execute the warrant; the defendant was downstairs in the locker room changing into his uniform.”

  “I’m sorry to interrupt you Detective Kuhn. How was the defendant dressed when you first encountered him that afternoon?” Bando inquired.

  “He was wearing his uniform shirt and about to put on his uniform pants.”

  Bando shook her head, letting Kuhn’s testimony settle in. “So he was wearing a shirt and no pants; he was in his underwear. Is that correct?

  “Yes it is.”

  “He was not fully clothed as the defense council has suggested?”

  Kuhn shook his head and gave a slight smile. “No ma’am. He was not.”

  Bando shot an accusing stare at the defense attorney. Had she done this in the presence of a jury, they would have surely gotten her message. “Thank you detective, please continue.”

  He did.

  “When I first encountered the defendant, he was standing next to his locker; it was wide open as he was getting dressed. Lt. Suarez and I walked over to him, identified ourselves and informed the defendant that he was under arrest. As I stood directly in front of his locker and was placing him in handcuffs, I observed on the floor of his locker, an unzipped duffle bag with what appeared to be a substantial amount of cocaine inside.”

  Kuhn took a sip of water before he continued. “At that point the defendant became agitated. He kicked at the locker in an attempt to slam it shut and yelled at us to just arrest him and get him out of here. He said that we were embarrassing him and then he tried to walk away from his locker.”

  Bando tilted her head and narrowed her eyebrows as if she were confused. More banter, thought Kuhn.

  Bando led the question just as they had rehearsed in preparation for the hearing. “You state that he started to walk away. Did he ask if he could put his pants on first?”

  “No, he did not. He tried to walk away from the locker in nothing more than his boxer shorts. He yelled at us; demanding that we get this over with and remove him from the precinct. That was when I opened the locker and recovered the duffle bag containing the cocaine as well as two nine millimeter handguns.”

  Bando paced across the courtroom; her short spiked heels echoing on the floors. Bando glanced down at her notes. Kuhn momentarily caught himself staring at how nicely the navy blue skirt hugged the prosecutor’s hips as she walked past the witness box. He quickly looked away hoping the middle-aged court reporter, seated only feet in front of him, hadn’t noticed his indiscretion.

  Bando looked up from her notes and continued her query of the witness. “Now Detective Kuhn, on your direct testimony, you stated that Peter Groff did not have these guns registered to him through the police department or anywhere else for that matter. Is that correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, can you tell the court, what if anything else you learned about those guns during the course of your investigation?”

  Before Kuhn could answer; “Objection your Honor! That’s hearsay,” bellowed Joseph Schilling; slamming a fist down on the defense table. Schilling was known as a skilled defense attorney and Kuhn felt Laurie Bando would have her work cut out for her going up against Schilling. Kuhn shot the court reporter a smile which she returned as he waited for the Judge’s ruling.

  “Save your theatrics for the trial Mr. Schilling,” the Judge instructed. “Your objection is overruled; I’m sure that I don’t need to remind you that hearsay is admissible for hearings.”

  Schilling nodded in agreement. “Yes Your Honor.”

  The Judge turned
toward Kuhn and gave his instructions. “You may answer the question Detective.”

  From where he sat on the witness stand it was clear to him that Peter Groff was upset by the question. Kuhn noticed Groff’s eyes narrow; waiting for Kuhn’s response. Kuhn would let him wait a moment longer before answering. He studied Groff; he looked like a typical young police officer. He had short, spiked brown hair and was clean shaven. His features were boyish until one looked into his eyes—they were far harder than any police officer’s eyes that Kuhn had ever seen before.

  “Thank you, Your Honor. After a ballistics test, I learned that one of the guns, the Glock model 19, serial number ALYZ-415407, had been used in a drug related homicide in the Redfern housing projects in Far Rockaway, Queens.”

  Bando appeared to Kuhn to be happy with the way the hearing was progressing. “I just have a few more quick questions for you, Detective?” She smiled at him. “When you went over to Peter Groff’s locker, did you intend on searching it?”

  He shook his head. “No, I did not.”

  “So why did you then seize evidence from it without first obtaining a search warrant?”

  Kuhn began to explain, “The cocaine and guns were in plain view in an unzipped duffle bag on the floor of the opened locker. Once I see contraband I have the authority to seize it.”

  “And once again if you would remind the court who was with you at the time the property was seized.”

  “I was with Lieutenant Michael Suarez, my supervisor.”

  Bando glanced at the Judge, seeming to make sure he was paying attention. “When you say that Lieutenant Suarez was your supervisor, would it be also fair to say that as a Lieutenant, he would also be a legal custodian to police department property; such as a locker?”

  “Yes he would.”

  “So then as a legal custodian and a police supervisor, would he have the right to inspect a locker without a search warrant?”

  Judge Bolton was quick to interject as Kuhn began to nod his head in the affirmative. “Don’t answer that detective.” He looked at A.D.A. Bando. “I believe that is what I’m here to decide, is it not Ms. Bando?”

  The Judge made his point but so did Bando. Kuhn felt the hearing went extremely well. He looked back at A.D.A. Bando waiting for the next question; “Thank you detective Kuhn. Your Honor, I have no further questions. The people rest.”

  Judge Bolton turned his head toward the defense table. “Mr. Schilling, would you like to re-cross the witness?”

  “No Judge; for the purposes of this MAPP hearing only, the defense rests. But I would like to note for the record, that the prosecution could have called in a ballistics expert to testify as to what exactly he did as far as a ballistics comparison. The defense has a standing objection to Detective Kuhn’s answer to that particular question and would like to make a motion for it to be stricken from the record.”

  Judge Bolton was clearly unmoved by the standing objection; he removed his glasses from his round face and placed them on the bench in front of him. He scratched his head, slightly mussing what was left of his salt and pepper hair. He spoke almost in a condescending tone, his drooping jowls shaking as he did. Your objection is noted Mr. Schilling.”

  He picked up a pen and made a notation before addressing Kuhn. “The witness is excused. You may step down Detective.”

  Kuhn stepped down from the witness box. He placed a hand on the wooden railing in front of the fourteen empty chairs where the members of the jury normally sit. Next time I’m in this courtroom, those chairs will be occupied, he observed.

  He slowly pushed open the swinging gate, separating the participants of a trial from the galley. The wooden benches—which strongly resembled church pews—were almost all vacant. There were four people in the front row—all relatives of the defendant. The day the trial begins every seat will be taken; Kuhn had no doubt about that.

  Hearing the judge begin to render his decision, Kuhn slowed down his pace considerably. The last thirty feet, leading to the large double doors at the courtroom’s exit, would be walked at a snail’s pace so that he could hear every word.

  “After careful consideration, and having heard testimony and evidence from the witness, I find him to be credible and his testimony sound. Furthermore, the locker is the property of the New York City Police Department, of which Lieutenant Michael Suarez is a legal custodian. The evidence was seized in good faith and within the guidelines of the law. The motion to suppress the evidence is denied.”

  Kuhn felt satisfied as he pushed open one of the heavy double doors, exiting the courtroom. He knew, just as any other seasoned cop did, of Schilling’s reputation as a top defense attorney. But he also knew that the toughest part of the case would be the suppression hearing. Kuhn felt that the evidence was overwhelming against Groff. With the hearing now behind them, Kuhn felt real good about their chances of a conviction. The district attorney seemed more than competent—in fact she was as capable as any he had seen throughout his career.

  Kuhn thought about Jason Luongo, as he exited the building onto Queens Boulevard. The gray skies and light rain dampened his mood a bit. He figured, aside from the slain officer’s family, he was one of the few to remember the cop’s name. It was sad how over time, even other cops forgot the names of their brothers and sisters in blue who made the ultimate sacrifice. Kuhn knew that he would never be able to bring a prosecution against Peter Groff for Luongo’s murder, but if he could at least see him convicted on the charges of this case he would do significant jail time.

  *

  Laurie Bando was elated with the Judge’s decision. She had silently worried about the hearing. After all, she had only taken over the case last week and didn’t have a whole lot of time to familiarize herself with its facts. Thank God that’s over with.

  Her mind began to drift to her meeting this morning with the District Attorney of Queens County. She kept replaying his words over and over in her head. “Laurie, I promise you, if you win the case, I will be appointing you to the position of Bureau Chief of the Integrity Bureau. I do have to tell you though; you have to understand, if Groff is acquitted I can’t make that appointment. This is going to be one of the most highly publicized trials in New York City in recent memory. It’s not every day that a New York City cop is accused of running a large scale drug ring involving numerous homicides. I’m confident that I have chosen the best Assistant to prosecute the case and what better incentive than the promise of a career changing promotion if you win.”

  Bando had been lost in thought but quickly snapped out of it as Judge Bolton spoke. “Ms. Bando, is the prosecution ready for trial?”

  She glanced over to the defense table at her adversary. “Yes, Your Honor. The people are ready.”

  “Is the defense ready?”

  Schilling stood up. “No we are not Judge. The defense would ask that the prosecution turn over the name of the Confidential Informant at this time, so that we may have ample to conduct a proper investigation into the informant. I figure we will need at least a month your Honor.”

  Bando was caught off guard by Schilling’s request but felt she was on a roll. “Your Honor, in view of the charges in which the defendant is facing, I would ask that we either move directly to trial or give me time to inform the C.I. that we are going to turn his name over to the defense team. I fear that his safety may be in jeopardy and he should be properly forewarned.”

  The judge carefully weighed each argument to himself before rendering his decision publicly. “Ms. Bando, you have until May 15 to turn the name of the confidential informant over to the defense council. Mr. Schilling, I am putting the trial on the calendar for June first. That will give you about two weeks to prepare regarding the informant.”

  Schilling didn’t appear to be happy. He quickly rose from his seat to voice his concerns. “Your Honor, two weeks is hardly enough time for me to conduct a proper background check on the informant. I would ask for a trial date of July 15, if it pleases the court.”

&
nbsp; Judge Bolton responded without even looking up from his calendar. “Once again, Mr. Schilling, your objections are noted. If you and Ms. Bando come to some sort of agreement about a postponement, I will take that under consideration but as of right now this case is on for trial on the first of June at 9:30 a.m.”

  This is great! Laurie Bando had a momentous day in court. She went up against and beat a high profiled private attorney and then had the Judge side with her on the date of the trial. The less time Schilling has to investigate my C.I, the better for the case. Who knows what kind of dirt Schilling could dig up given enough time?

  She picked up the yellow jacketed case folder which was nearly six inches thick. She tucked it under her arm and headed back to her office. She couldn’t remember a time in her life when both her personal and professional lives were both on such highs. She couldn’t wait to tell Tommy all about how she had cut the famous Joseph Schilling down to size in the courtroom.

  Holding her head up high, she walked out of the courthouse onto Queens Boulevard. Not even the gloomy skies or rain could dampen her mood. During the two block walk back to her office she had been day dreaming about the possibilities of being a Bureau Chief. She would probably be the youngest Bureau in the office by quite a few years.

  Bando got off the elevator on the second floor and turned right. The large glass doors in front of her had the words Office of the District Attorney etched in white with the seal of the City of New York below. As she approached she felt a pride she hadn’t felt since the first time she passed through the doors. She studied the seal; having seen it perhaps thousands of times, this was the first time she took a good look. It depicted a Native American and a Pilgrim separated by what looked like wind mill blades, wheat and beavers; on the top—a bald eagle. The seal is dated 1625 and has the Latin term, SIGILLUM CIVITATIS NOVI EBORACI, encircling the bottom. Bando was pretty certain the term literally meant the seal of the City of New York.