"Cop Killer"
part 4 by John S LES
The next morning Linda's prophetic words had made many things clear to me. I knew that a trip upstate New York was going to be necessary. The Kingston Gardens resort that this group of Anti-Crime police officers used for their vacations with their families had to be investigated, not just by Internet postings and several phone calls, but also by direct contact. We were going to have to see what it was like in person.
During the previous day, while I had met and dined with Linda, Marti and Grace used the rest of the afternoon to find out more about Kingston Garden online. My team also continued to investigate other leads. Noelle pursued the relationship between Money MacDaniel and the now deceased Mike Dupree. Dupree was Santiago's boss and his only possible corroborating witness to what occurred the night DeLorenzo was killed. Darren continued to shake down the streets on the west side. Chris was going to join me on the road trip upstate. We would go in separate cars and pose as two separate individuals while up there.
I had went back with Linda to her apartment and before our passionate attractions and affections got the best of us, I left. She still felt like a client and that I was still working for her. It was a good thing that I left that night. I had a bad episode of dreams that night. It was part of my lingering post traumatic disorder leftover angst from my combat days in the Army Rangers. Sometimes
those dreams haunted me. Sometimes they simply served as a warning of impending danger the next day...like a sort of sixth sense that something dangerous was about to happen.
The drive from Bayside, Queens to Coxsackie is just under a 2 1/2 hrs depending on traffic and time of day. Chris and I both decided to leave after 8:30 am to avoid the rush hour traffic, but that once we approached Coxsackie we would stagger entering a half hour behind each other. I played myself, a private investigator from NYC, while Chris dressed up in a suit and played the role of a competing insurance broker from the New England area who specialized in insuring commercial resorts. Chris wanted to have some fun letting his normally hidden Bostonian accent run free from his mouth.
During the first hour and a half of the drive, using the Bluetooth system in our cars, Chris and I had a 20 minute, 4 way conversation with Derek and Marti which produced some important updates. Darren had come across some uptown street dealers who competed against Mike Dupree's downtown traffic. The police concluded that Dupree was probably killed in his own apartment during a power struggle between him and one of his lieutenants who wanted to take over the partnership with MacDaniels. However, the latest word on the street was that MacDaniels was now backing out of any re-associations with street corner dealers. To make matters even more strange, most street dealers thought that MacDaniels' alliance with Dupree seemed unusual to begin with. That alliance only seemed to favor Dupree, more than it did MacDaniels. MacDaniels had already washed his drug money clean the past five years by investing in two 24 hour laundromats, three car washers and three disposable cellular phone companies. He also had invested some of his money from those businesses on Wall Street and was doing well. His getting back into street corner drug business seemed like a step back for someone who had worked to be in his position.
By the time we ended the 4 way conversation, Coxsackie was now just 45 minutes away. My bad dreams the night before, this new information on the relationship between Dupree and MacDaniels and the specter of this band of rogue cops and DeLorenzo bad cops. All of these elements and variables mixed together. Although I didn't know what Chris and I were driving into, I definitely knew that whatever we found would probably mean the beginning of the end of these rogue police officers. And I was right.
When I arrived at Coxsackie, I tried to meet up with the police chief, Roy O'Callaghan. The Coxsackie police department had a total of 23 police officers who worked around the clock to watch over a town population of roughly 7,000 plus residents. Crime had not been an issue in the town, however, the chief admitted to there being a spike of drug use in the town. He had not been able to pinpoint the spike, but he did note that town rumor was that it came from the owners of the Kingston Gardens. Two of them retired police officers.
"I did use some favors and presented it to a friend who used to work in NYPD to have IAB look into it, but it looks like it went nowhere. I don't think they ever found anything. All I do know is that there are a lot of former and current cops who use the Gardens pretty exclusively throughout the year. We've never had an issue there, because they stay within themselves and bring good money into the town."
Chris made better progress when he went over to Kingston Gardens. He found the owners, Kevin Dobson and Tony Russo, both former New York City police officers. Russo was a second cousin to DeLorenzo. Both men happily spoke about their resort and offered Chris a membership, after he enamored them with his story about being a former Boston police officer, who now sold insurance after being injured on the job. Chris continued his chameleon act when he continued about his Irish relatives who were police officers and who were always looking for places to vacation and save money.
After about an hour he was drinking a beer and smoking a cigar with them at their bar in the resort. The men declined any need for his company's property insurance, but guaranteed that if he wanted to get a membership there away from his wife and kids, they could get some prostitutes on premises for the weekend, as well as any party favors, (the code word for illegal drugs) that he needed.
"We have
tricks here to get guys past the Dole test in case they slip up while they're up here. We know a couple guys down at Health Services who can give us a heads up on the list. You can bang in sick for a week to clean yourself out and then take the test. Believe you me, I was on the job and saw that Dole test coming up. After 16 years, enough was enough and I vested out before they Doled me out. We didn't know anyone back then with Health Services, but now we do. And the police here will never, ever bother you when you join the resort. The chief of police and his officers are as backward as the town of
Mayberry and Deputy Barney Fife."
By 3:30 Chris and I were done and headed back down into the city, but the news out of the city wasn't good. Darren was being harassed again by the police in the area, in particular members of DeLorenzo's Anti-Crime team. He got pulled over for allegedly failing to signal when he drove back downtown on the lower west side. They had been watching him talk to guys known for dealing drugs on the street, but who weren't carrying and Darren wasn't buying. He was taken in and warned by Anti-Crime Sgt. Brennan for walking into known areas of drug dealings, carrying a loaded weapon. Darren only responded,
"Okay, so that means that I don't walk anywhere?"
When we arrived at the precinct, Aliyah and Darren were just about to walk out. Sgt. Brennan, came out and saw me, "Well look at who it is, the wannabe detective, who's nothing but the fearless leader of the rat pack."
"Yeah, yeah Brennan. Maybe you should try being a cop one day, instead of being a criminal masquerading as one."
I wanted to say more, but when I turned I saw my cousin Alex Valentine, the Chief of Detectives, coming out of a side room. Alex and I were about the same height, but he was 14 years older and a very distinguished looking Italian American man in his mid forties. He had just been in a conference with Lt. Simmons. Alex grabbed me by the arm and simply said, "Gio, let's talk outside." Lt. Simmons also stepped in between and ordered Sgt. Brennan to go back upstairs to Anti-Crime.
"Hi Alex. Nice to see you here. Did we do anything wrong here?"
"Nope, not yet. But let's talk about it, away from here."
The minute he said that, I started getting that tension in my neck and shoulders again. It always came to me when I was a kid growing up, and when I was overseas in war. It saved my bacon more times than I could remember. So I always trusted it.
As soon as we got to the door, there was a group of three Hispanic males across the street. As soon as we exited, one of them walked away and two of them walked into a dark BMW parked ahead. I gave Darren and Alex the heads up eye contact that we were clearly being followed. We told Aliyah to pretend like she forgot something and to walk back into the precinct with Darren since the Spanish men seemed only to be really eyeballing me.
My car was parked at the corner, behind Darren's. Alex, Chris and I slowed down our walk as we could see the car trailing us. It was too late to turn backwards and not necessary to go forward and involve a couple of news reporters camped out across the street still covering the "Cop Killer" story. It was a moment in time that I had seen in combat overseas. Time seemed slow, but things were actually moving very fast. We stopped as the car sped up and
they fired shots at us, but we ducked and returned fire immediately. All three of us returned fire into the car at the two shooters in the back.
In that same moment, once Darren and Aliyah alerted the desk officer of what was about to happen, two sector cars came speeding down the wrong way of the street to cut the assailants car off. Another car came from behind as additional police officers came out with guns drawn and opened fire on the vehicle. With my name already reduced to mud at the precinct, I felt that all of this heroic police action was really to safeguard my cousin, Alex. I could have been wrong.
Either way, in 43 seconds, it was all over.
Two suspects dead, one critically wounded and not likely to survive his wounds. They would later be identified as Dominican hit-men hired by an unknown source, but thought to be hired by a member of the west side drug ring who didn't want me or my agency interfering with their power struggle.
So there I was, at the 14th precinct another 2 hours being interviewed by detectives. What started out as a nice day, had quickly turned into a nightmare. Linda had been calling me all day and now several more times as she saw the news report. The reporters down the street captured everything. Alex was adamant that after Chris and I were done being interviewed and our guns taken into evidence, he wanted time to speak to me outside of the precinct. He was required to visit department psychiatrists since he was involved in the shooting. However, he took us outside and spoke to us in an empty detectives car.
"Gio, this shooting thing is off the charts. In all my years, I've drawn my gun a few times, but only had to pull the trigger twice. I hang out with you just for five minutes and I'm in the middle of the L.A. shootout. Listen, I know, you're good at what you do. I know you sometimes can get sensitive information that other people may not be able to get access too. But, you have to lay off the guys in this precinct. What's about to go down here may be worse than what happened on the street here a couple hours ago."
"Alex, what are you saying. They've got a kid in jail here who's probably innocent, and this precinct is filled with cops on the take, selling drugs and
IAB isn't doing a damn thing - "
"Listen, the department is about to get a big black eye here soon. Capt. Dunlap had me reach out to Lt. Simmons, he's clean, but he's done. The Feds are involved and have been involved for months, before this DeLorenzo thing happened. Heads are gonna roll, but they keep hearing your name come up on tapes. The Feds want you to step away. They were going to wait another week, but with DeLorenzo getting whacked, and now all of they hear is conversations about retaliation against you. It's slowing down their normal operations and not revealing all the people involved."
"So did they whack DeLorenzo?"
"No."
"Do the Feds know who did?"
"No, not yet, but they have a pretty good idea. So do we. We just haven't made a move yet."
"Are you going to tell me who their lead is?"
"No. Because you'll probably figure it all out before you go to bed tonight. You always do."
I looked over at Chris, who remained silent throughout, "You believe this Chris? See how family treats you?"
Alex shook his head, "Come on Gio, just step aside and let the Feds and police Chiefs here get their hands covered in this mess. You don't want to be anywhere near this toilet bowl when it flushes."
It was already a little after 9 pm by the time, Darren, Chris and I got back into the office. There was two patrol cars from my local precinct parked across the street. Nicole and Marti stuck around, as they were very concerned for our well being. We needed to meet together before our office wrap up in addition to them wanting to show me something that had been discovered by Noelle earlier in the day.
She handed me a year book from Francis Louis High School. She got it from the school when she was looking into MacDaniels' background. His sophomore year, was his last year at the high school. He was on the varsity boys basketball team and was apparently very good. There was a photo of him taking a foul shoot in a game...with his left hand. There was also another photo of him being kissed by his girlfriend after the team won a game that went to double overtime. The girl kissing him had a familiar face. It was a young, Christina DeLorenzo, who maiden name back then was Canterino.
"Gio, I followed this up by locating a couple of former teammates and they confirmed that DaShawn 'Money' MacDaniel and Christina Canterino were an item during their freshman and sophomore years together at Francis Louis. Some of his ex-teammates said that she had a fallout with her family after she continued to see him the following year when he moved to LeFrak. She actually moved in with her aunt and uncle for a year before she finally broke off the relationship with him. She went to Queens College for two years, before she took the police test and she was on the job by the time she was 22. She met Anthony DeLorenzo on the job and was married a couple years later. The rest is history."
"Yeah. I would say so. Especially when the police surveillance video showed DeLorenzo's hooded shooter coming out and holding the gun with his left hand."
"MacDaniels was clearly a lefty in high school."
"My God," Marti added in, "Gio, she's gotta be involved somehow? Why else would Christina's former boyfriend end up partnering with a drug dealer that her husband wass stealing from? MacDaniels wouldn't risk all of his success the past few years out of jealousy from an ex-girlfriend in high school?"
"Yeah, I know. But why? Was it money? A divorce? A bad marriage?"
None of us knew the answer at that moment. But what I did know was that it was late for all of us. It had been a very long day and would be a longer night for me, wondering if my home address had also been known to whoever hired the hit-men to kill me. I told everyone to go home and that we would tackle everything first thing in the morning.
By the time I got home, Linda was finally able to reach me. I had been pushing her calls, as well as calls from my father and uncle X. All of their messages were very emotional and concerned about my safety. I called them back starting with my father and uncle and kept it brief. But, when I called Linda, she demanded that I do one of two things. Either I got in a car she would have waiting at my door in ten minutes and come to her place to sleep, or she would be at my door in forty five minutes.
I didn't want anything to happen to her...or me for that matter. A little less than an hour later, I was boarding the elevator to her apartment. She was dressed in a robe, makeup slightly smeared from crying all evening worrying about me. I tried to change the topic as I had noticed that she had a new picture hanging on her wall by the artist Antonella Mason, the same artist from the E Speakeasy restaurant and lounge.
**
"That's a beautiful picture, Linda. I can tell that that is a town somewhere in Italy."
"Yes it is. Thank you. It's made by the same artist - "
"Yes, I can see that. You know if this whole case is over by Monday, maybe we can go to Milan early next week?"
"No. The exhibit opens this weekend and I promised a lot of people that I would be there for it's opening." She paused for a minute. "Gio, I have to go into the shower. As you can see I'm a total wreck worrying about you."
She then walked further into the spacious apartment and into her bathroom.
"Gio, I have three bedrooms. You can either sleep in one of the rooms that my niece and nephews use, or you can sleep on a king size bed with me? But, if you choose to sleep with me in my bed, I can't say I will be able to control myself from groping you throughout the night."
"Ha, ha...okay. Let's just say that I'm very interested in sleeping in your bed tonight."
She dropped her robe and entered her walk-in shower.
"Gio, well since you're going to sleep with me, would you mind jumping in this shower with me and helping me wash my hair?"
After seeing her undressed, it only took seconds for me to undress as well. When I entered the shower, her back was to me.
"Here's your shampoo."
"Um...Gio, is that a shampoo bottle in your hand...or are you just happy to see me?"
**The photo of the painting by the artist Antonella Mason was printed with exclusive permission from the artist herself for this blog.
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