"Cop Killer - Part 3" The Private iTeam by John S LES ©

"Cop Killer" by John S LES

The next morning, after my morning martial arts workout.  I turned on the TV news, to play while I worked out.  The NYPD had already began distributing their surveilance video of DeLorenzo walking in the street and following Santiago into the corner apartment building.  Santiago is wearing his puffy, maroon jacket with the clear wording of the Washington Redskins on the back and Native American symbol on the front by the heart.  As DeLorenzo goes in behind him putting over a radio call, you suddenly see him backing out and taking shots to his chest.  Then you see Santiago now wearing his hood over his head, his back to the camera, and with the gun in his left hand pointing over the head of the fallen DeLorenzo whose body is supine and clutching his chest.  The video then stops.

I headed down Bell boulevard and into my office as normal.  I knew that with this news video out and the $50,000 reward being posted, it was going to be a heck of an uphill battle to get to Santiago before the police did.  It was 8:30 and Marti had already opened up and watched the downloaded video of a then unknown two white males who laid the dead rat by my doorstep.  She also downloaded the video that the police released of the DeLorenzo shooting.

Fortunately for me, I have long range, high optic cameras facing either corner of my block from on top of my roof.  My street had stop signs and traffic lights at both ends.  This unknown male then got into the passenger side of a blue Lexus, driven by another white male and took off.  To keep from standing out, the car obeyed the stop signs and traffic light coming towards my house and stopped once more down the street leaving my house.  The camera was able to catch partial digits coming and going...just enough to put together the whole plate.

Once I was in the office, I began listening to my work and cell phone voice messages.  I had five messages from my father and two from Captain Dunlap.  Dunlap was my father's lieutenant during part of his career as a detective.  Both were refering to my behavior and conversation with Lt. Simmons.  To sum it up, they both berated me for coming across very disrespectful to the Lt at his precinct.  I returned both their calls and explained my position at that moment - of my rights being disrespected regardless of any police investigation for a cop killer.

"People in this city have rights.  Those rights don't have to be trampled over in order to find this cop killer.  If the precinct police could reach out and repair some of the damaged community relationships first, they wouldn't have to go at people with storm trooper boots to get what they needed to find Santiago.  My only problems right now, is following through with these allegations of bad cops in that precinct, and identifying the two men involved with laying a dead rat on my doorstep.  I have their faces and license plate on video."

Captain Dunlap was as unhappy with my allegations as he was with the act of retaliation.  Whatever information that occurred in yesterdays' meeting at the precinct should not have gotten out so fast that it finished with a retaliatory act that came to my doorstep in another borough that night.  In addition, he told me that IAB did conduct an investigation of allegations of dirty cops at the 14th, however they came up with nothing.

"But this rat thing at your doorstep is disturbing.  It just happened too fast for it to be word of mouth.  Gio, before you go to anyone in the department about this, give me two days and just speak to your father first.  I will get back to you guys on this.  But for now, do us all a favor and go back and make things right with Lt. Simmons.  We need to squash that immediately.  Then do what you gotta do.  Even if his hands are tied at his precinct, Simmons is a good man, and so is his CO, Captain Hennessy.  He and a lot of people could take a big hit if this falls the wrong way."

When I hung up the phone although my ego didn't agree with my father and Capt. Dunlap, the logical side of my mind did.  Whatever next steps I was going to make, I couldn't have everyone in the police department forming a dislike of my agency.  If we uncovered any type of corruption, which led to DeLorenzo's death, we were going to need to present it in such a manner members of the department would be more compelled to clean house, rather than focus anger at my agency.  I agreed to apologize and had Marti put a call in to Simmons that I sent my apologies and would meet him in person to say it to his face if he had a minute. 
 

The rest of my team walked in well before 9am.  Everyone came in focused and aware of all that went on with Darren and I in Manhattan.  Then I added the incident with the rat being laid at my door. We knew that from here on we were going to have to bring our "A" game to look into any possible police corruption at the 14th precinct and how this might have led to DeLorenzo's death.

"Look we're not taking on the entire police department, so let's get that straight.  What we are here to do is find out if' there is some corruption and if that led to DeLorenzo getting killed and Santiago getting framed.  Our first priority is to see if we can find this kid, Santiago.  If we can get a straight story from him of what happened that night, then perhaps that will have a domino effect to the rest of this debacle."

From then on we all went into our conference room and I activated our SMART Board.  From there on I laid out our basic mode of direction.  We needed whatever public information facts we could find through the Internet.  We needed whatever information we could get from our people interviews. Lastly, we would also need information that both Grace and Marti couldn't dig up, or get without raising red flags.  That's where Edgerfeld or "Edge" would come in.  Getting someone's motor vehicle information via the DMV was already turned into a series of hoops and authorizations   Getting information on a car that possibly belonged to a New York City police officer would definitely send off flags and consequently alert the police department.  Only Edge knew how to get around those databases without setting off alerts.

First, we drew up  what we already knew.  DeLorenzo responded without a partner or backup to follow a low level street dealer.  Why?

Noelle responded to my question first, "Perhaps he had such a grudge against the guy, he simply wanted to take him down that night?"

I handed out the copies of the CCRB reports that Marti had been able to get copies of on DeLorenzo, "Yeah, but just from some of these initial CCRB reports, it looks like how I had guessed, DeLorenzo was a bit of a lone ranger type.  He seemed like the type who took a lot of chances."

Chris, "Okay then, so who are the people who might want him killed?  Let's just do what we always do.  Let's start out with a clean slate, make a list and start from that."

I went on the SMART Board and began the drawing.  DeLorenzo was at the top.  His wife at the left side.  His partners on the other side.  Drug dealers below.

"Lady and gents, either one of these branches, or all three of these branches wanted DeLorenzo out of the picture.  We must assume the negative - that all three branches are possible suspects.  There could even be a fourth branch we don't know about it.  All that we do know is that everything from the radio call, to that grainy NYPD surveillance video camera - points to Santiago."  I pulled up the news video and we all watched it again.  After watching it a second time, there was just something about it that bothered me.  I couldn't put my finger on it, even though it seemed very convincing.

Folks, Chris and I will look for Santiago over in Jamaica.  Darren you can use your street contacts in Harlem and the west side to see what they will tell you about dirty cops.  Just be careful not to put yourself between the drug dealers and the cops if there is a war going on.  Noelle, I need you to track down DeLorenzo's wife, talk to their neighbors.  We have to find out how and where they spent their money.  If he was a dirty cop, then the extra money is going to come up somewhere.  Grace and Marti can continue to follow up any leads on public information online."

"Gio," Chris stopped me before we left the conference room, "We're definitely going to need Edge's help. I mean to try to get information on these cops is going to send up so many red flags.  Even if we tried to hack their systems, we would be up against some real jail time if we show them."

"I know, Chris, I know."

On our way out of the conference room, Marti gave me the list of calls that came in for me.
"Gio, Lt. Simmons.  He said you could have five minutes of his time if you were anywhere near the city later this afternoon. You also got a call from Linda Walters.  I forgot to tell you that she called yesterday and asked about the name of your tailor, which I told her - "

"You did what?"

"Well, Gio, she was very nice on phone and really very polite.  She just asked me where you bought your suits from and I told her."

I didn't know what Linda was up to at that moment, but I could only imagine.  "Alright.  Any word from Edge yet?"

"No.  Not a single call back."



Chris and I were the last to leave the office as we hopped into my Corvette.  As soon as I got into my car, my cell phone rang.  It was Edge.

"Gio.  Don't go anywhere.  Keep the car in park.  The police put a tracking device on your car and Darren's car.  Don't worry.  I already sent him a message.  He told me that he was going into Harlem and that it wouldn't matter.  Even if they follow him there, they aren't going to find anything."

"Yeah, he's right."

"Good.  They put it on your cars while you were parked by the precinct yesterday.  So whether or not you plan to apologize to Lt. Simmons, understand that he was still under orders to screw you.  Now let's get off these cell phones and meet me by the pier.  Take Chris' car.  Don't worry, it's clean."

It took us all of five minutes to switch into Chris' car, a black Nissan Altima and drove over to the pier at the Bayside Marina.  Neither of us could figure out where Edge was parked, or which car he was in on Bell Blvd, watching us when we had left the office.  Either way, we were now going to wait at least a couple more minutes for him to show up at the parking lot of the Bayside Marina pier.  The pier was closed and less than a handful of cars were even parked over there.

Chris and I waited a couple of minutes, but there was no signs of him.  Sometimes Edge liked the cloak and dagger routine just too much.  A couple minutes more went by before a flower delivery van pulled up next to us.  It was Edge.

"Come on, you guys, hop in."
"A flower delivery truck?  At the pier?  Edge, you gotta be kidding me?"

Once we were inside, he laid out all that he had learned.  After Darren and I had left the 14th precinct, there was only cell phone activities with Lt. Simmons to anyone in his command.  However, there was significant activity among members of DeLorenzo's Anti-Crime unit.  It's a twelve man unit.  About eight of them had high cellular activity.  I mean, not just with the ones who were working with them and in the same proximity, using the same cell towers.  I mean, they had high activity with two other members who also live in Bellrose, on the Long Island side."

Chris put the two bits of information together, "Bellrose is only 10 to 15 minutes from here, tops.  Do you have their names?"

"Yes I do.  Both names came back to the driver and passenger of the car that dropped the rat at your doorstep last night.  Police officer, Kevin Sanders was the driver and Steve Baczkowski, was the ratter.  I already downloaded an encrypted file with Marti.  She can distribute the rest to you guys.  For now, just leave the Corvette here and take care of whatever you gotta do.  Remember, you cannot use this information in court.  Just use it as guide to - "

"Steer ourselves in the right direction."  I could never tell why Edge insisted upon repeating that line to me when he gave us hacked information.  It was more like for his own self entertainment.

"Fine, Gio.  Very funny.  Anyway, you guys have to leave my van now before some cop pulls up and stops us for possible drug sales or a trying to commit a sexual act in a car?"

Chris and I stepped out and in a flash - he was gone.  But he had left us a ton of good information that it would have taken us days if not weeks to get and a lot of IOU's.  We had the list of the names from DeLorenzo's 12 man Anti Crime team.  As Chris and I proceeded to St. Joseph's to try to make contact with Santiago, we all knew now for sure, that at least eight members of that Anti Crime team were probably dirty cops.  All we had to do was find out what they stole and where the money went to after they stole.  More than likely, it would be drugs.  But where was the money?

When we arrived at St. Joseph's church, it was as if we were expected.  We were hustled into a back room of the church and down a flight of stairs where Santiago was staying, with only a cot and candle.  Chris and I spoke to him as friends of father Manuel.  Santiago was well aware that his time might be running out and that sooner or later the police might find him if he ventured to leave his hiding spot in this part of the church.

"Yo man, I never killed DeLorenzo.  I hated his guts and wanted to see him dead, but I never killed him!"

"They have you on video, Santiago.  How do you explain a police video camera of you holding a gun over his head after he chases you into a building and then you shoot him as he backs out?"

"Bro, Gio man, I went into that building because I was told to by my boss, Mike Dupree, to go into that building if I had a problem with DeLorenzo that night.  My boss said he would have some cameras inside to catch DeLorenzo shaking me down for my stash and then we could blackmail him.  So when DeLorenzo saw me, I called my boss and led DeLorenzo to the damn building, yo.  'Cept when I went in there, there weren't any cameras.  I got jumped, and hit over the head from behind, by I don't know who.  By the time I woke up, I was in a west side dumpster on 137 street.  My phone was ringing, with everyone telling me that the cops was after me for killing DeLorenzo downtown."

"What did you do to make DeLorenzo go after you like that?"

"DeLorenzo was heated over my last complaint that I gave the CCRB about him and his Anti-Crime team, the midnight and evening shift dudes.  They all criminals themselves, man, worse than me."

"What complaint was that?"

"Well, they used to round us up, even give us a beat down and take our drugs.  I never officially mentioned the drug part in my first four complaints.  I mean our boss said it was the cost of doing business.  Then one day I just got tired of the beat down.  Losing those drugs is like losing money out of my own pockets. We took the loss, and still had to pay our boss to get fresh stash.  He said we needed to run faster.  So I started beefing to the CCRB on DeLorenzo and he went nuts on me every time he saw me in the street.  Told me to get off his streets.  I couldn't work for about a month because of him."

Then Chris inquired, "Why didn't CCRB just take your complaints to IAB?

"Say what?  Man, DeLorenzo and his crew got IAB in their back pockets.  DeLorenzo's uncle is a chief downtown and his father's brother-in-law runs IAB.  DeLorenzo and his crew knew their way around all of the laws."

Then I pressed him, "Where did they sell their drugs?  What did they do with their cash?"

"I don't know, yo.  You should ask them?  But I bet they don't have any bills or debt?  Them dirty pigs spent a lot of their time upstate.  Maybe they spent it up there?  Used to laugh in our faces about stealing our drugs on their stop and frisks and nobody gave a damn.  They even stole when they did door kick downs too."

"And you only reported one time to the CCRB that these guys were taking your drugs?"

"Yo, Gio man...I'm a corner drug dealer.  Who do you think the judge and jury is going to believe?  Me or the nephew of a commissioner?"


Thankfully Santiago allowed us to record the conversation.  As Chris and I slipped out of that church, we weren't sure if we had just recorded the last words of a dead man, or if we had just spoken to a ghost.  It was a little past noon and my phone was filled with messages from Marti, Noelle and Linda Walters.  There was still no word back from Darren as we headed back to the office.

30 minutes later, as soon as I walked into the office, I could see that there was a clothing delivery.  Marti explained that it was two Armani suits, one a tuxedo and the other a black suit.

"Gio, she sent the suits with an invitation to an art exhibit in Milan this weekend.  She wanted you to go with her as her personal bodyguard.  She also asked if you were available for dinner tonight at ESpeakeasy in Manhattan.  They have some of the exhibits there as well."

Chris immediately started breaking my chops about suits.  "Gio, you have to go?  She sent you two new suits from your talor?  You gotta go.  When you get back you can tell us what it's like to be a Boy Toy for a weathly babe."

"I can't go to Milan?  We gotta break this case.  We just scratched the surface of this thing."  No sooner than I said that, Linda called and I took her call.

"Listen, Gio, I know you think I'm coming at you really fast.  My life is changing.  I've tried calling you today and yesterday, and I know you're busy.  I heard about yesterday.  I'm sorry about that.  But before you make any decision on Milan, will you at least join me for an early dinner at ESpeakeasy and we can at least discuss some business?"

"Listen Linda, we really don't need to discuss this.  I can't go to - "

"Gio, tell me, for tonight for our dinner, should I go dressed in black or white?"

"Well, you had black on the other day.  You looked good in black."

"Good choice!  That's exactly the color I chose to wear this morning.  I'll send you a picture to your phone so that you can see me when you walk in the door.  Sent."

I looked down at her message and opened it up.

"Did you get my picture, Gio?"

"Yes, I did.  Linda - "

"I'll see you at 5:30 tonight then?"

"That's right during rush hour, it's going to be hell to get in town before that time."

"Then come earlier.  Stay at my apartment and my driver can take us both there?"

"I'll see you at 5:30."



I knew I would have to leave no later than 3:30 before the traffic flow on the bridges and tunnel would change, but I had to wait for Darren and Noelle to get back.  It was now 1pm.  They walked in right on the dot and we all went back into our conference room to put what we had all together.

Darren was able to confirm that there was street talk about Anti-Crime cops stealing money from dealers on the west side.  Darren had a couple conversations with cops he knew working Vice, that all investigations into dirty cops on the lower westside all lead to dead ends.  Mike Dupree worked for a couple of other drug dealers, but recently those guys had joined up with a guy from Queens who hit the big time.  DaShawn "Money" MacDaniel.

Money MacDaniel, grew up in in Fresh Meadows, Queens and attended Francis Lewis high school, before his mother and father broke up and he moved with his mother to LeFrak City.  There Money started working for the LeFrak City drug dealer Domino Jones.  Money moved up the Domino Jones chain of command due to his penchant for sudden violence and his uncanny ability to handle money.  With only two years of high school education at Frances Lewis, his teachers said that he had already aced the New York state math proficiency test as a sophomore.

Noelle did manage to drive out to Massapequa, Long Island, where DeLorenzo and his wife lived and posed as a reporter for the New Yorker looking to do a biography on Anthony DeLorenzo.  The neighbors told her of how the DeLorenzo's once were seen in his and hers Corvettes, but apparently sold those cars in place of having his and hers Lexus'.  They also had an outdoor swimming pool, a 750,000 dollar house by the water and the neighbors said that they spent a lot of their vacation time going upstate to a resort.

Grace and Marti also crossed checked this information, with the names of other members of DeLorenzo's Anti-Crime unit.  Posed as telemarketers who were cold calling, they found out that most of the eight names on the list also had credit card bills from most of the same mini malls and gas stations that were upstate going towards Coxsackie, NY.  We placed the purchases on the SMART Board and used mapping software.  All of their credit card purchases centered around a five year old family resort called Kingston Gardens.

Before I headed into Manhattan to speak with Lt. Simmons, return his tracking device and have dinner with Linda, I told everyone that we needed to now concentrate on two things.  First, we needed to know and understand how and or why Mike Dupree had partnered with Money MacDaniel.  We also needed to find out how Kingston Gardens resort had been funded in it's build up.

"We have to follow the money folks.  Because that is what's behind all of this."


My drive into the NYC was pretty quick.  It's always better if you get in before 3pm.  Simmons did meet with me in coffee room in the precinct on the first floor.  He gave a general apology for Darren and I getting roughed up exiting St Emerics yesterday.  I then apologized for saying things that showed disrespect of him and of officers in his precinct.  I then handed over both tracking devices that he seemed to be expecting anyway.

"Sorry about that too Gio, but it was worth a shot for us.  You two guys may have lead us to dead ends, but we traced Santiago up at a church out in Jamaica, Queens.  He used a phone at the Rectory to call his mother not knowing that we already had all phones to his family members - cell and home - being traced.  Once he get's brought into Manhattan tonight, they'll have it on the 11pm news."

"Oh, so you have him in custody?"

"Yes."

"Did he mention anything about a Mike Dupree?"

"Yes, he did.  But Mike Dupree was found dead in his apartment about an hour ago.  What do you know about Dupree and Santiago?"

"Nothing, Lt."


An hour later I was back at Linda's apartment, waiting to be driven down to E Speakeasy restaurant and lounge.  E Speakeasy use to be the home of one of the hottest and hippest clubs in all of New York City.  It still has it's reputation for being a nice quiet spot for people of different social status to stop in and have a great meal.  More meals and socializing than drinking and dancing.  Pool tables and lounge chairs and wifi replaced the large dance area that E Speakeasy used to be known for after hours.

Linda and I received first class treatment all the way into the restaurant.  She frequented the place and help support artists who works adorned the walls.  One of her favorite artists on display there was Antonella Mason.

"Gio, I just love Antonella's expressionism and symbolism   She's not afraid to reveal the essence of things in so many layers.  There's a museum in Milan that's going to exhibit some of her work this weekend along with some other artists.  I love showing support and turning up in places where people will least expect me to appear.  I know you have a big case on your hands, but can you take the weekend off and come with me?  I promise, promise, promise to fly us back here in the States by Monday.  I just want to support Antonella.  She does such beautiful visceral work."

"Linda, I can't leave my team here and go flying off to Italy.  Plus, you're still married!  How would that look?"

"Gio, my philanderous husband and his conniving attorney looked at all the evidence you obtained, and the fact that I have $100 million more reasons to keep paying more lawyers to bleed him out of his own money in court over the next 10 years - they jointly decided to move him out instantly.  He took a deal so he could keep his money, save face in the media and move onto his other flings. By October, New York will be a no contest state anyway.  He's happy and I'm happy.  We have no kids because I'm barren.  I might still consider adopting instead of baby sitting my niece and nephew on the weekends in the Hamptons."

"Okay Linda.  If I get this case resolved by Friday, which probably won't happen - then I'll go with you...as your bodyguard.  Separate rooms."

"Fine, Gio.  Keep playing me.  I've been hitting on you since I hired you.  What the hell does it take to get your attention?  Older men want me to wear on their arm.  Younger men only want me for my money.  But you, you only would want me because you feel I am someone of value to the world and to you.  But you won't even give me a chance.  You keep rejecting my advances."

"Linda, if our positions were different and I came onto you like you have been to me, especially these past two days - first words out of your mouth to me would be that your affections couldn't be bought.  And that lingerie picture via text message, might have gotten me a sexual harassment charge - "

"Huh!  In another life!  I'd pay a million just to see you wearing nothing but your birthday suit."

"Here you go, ignoring what I'm saying to you."

"Gio, you're right.  But, don't chastise me for now going to extreme measures to get your attention.  If me flashing my money bothers you, we can walk back to my place or take a bus.  I don't care, Gio.  I just want to be with you.  But only if you want to be around me."

"Well, I'm here aren't I?  Let's just take it easy.  I'm not going anywhere."

"Great!  Now tell me if I can help you with your case?"

"You can't help me with this case."

"Why not?  Does it involve money?"

"Yes it does.  Drug dealer money."

"Oh that's easy.  Everyone who's big in drug trafficking always wants to wash their dirty money clean.  You can only put so much of it under your mattress  It's a cash only business.  There's still a centuries old high demand for it and the perfect place to launder your money is with a bank or a startup business or both.  Banks use the money to cover their losses and startup businesses use the money to grow from dirt to a castle."

I looked her straight into her eyes.

"Well I'll be damned."

Tonight...Part 3 of The Private iTeam Cop Killer to be posted!!

Thanks to all my friends, family, coworkers and artistic friends for helping me put together part 3 of The Private iTeam "Cop Killer" these past two weeks.  I will be posting it in a few hours!  I know a lot of you have been waiting for this, and you won't be disappointed!

The Numbers Speak For Themselves...

The numbers speak for themselves.  In just two weeks and two posts, The Private iTeam has singularly generated over 800 pageviews online.  I've averaged nearly 1,000 pageviews a month.  But with this short story, that all has changed!  Clearly Private iTeam is my hottest short story post ever!  Due to such demand and my standards to give you the best - I have to dedicate more time for editing and resources.  I will delay part 3 post until Thursday so that I can use the next 48 hours to give you all the best that I've got.  This "Cop Killer" story has been worth these 9 months of growth and discovery for both me and you - my devoted audience.  So stay tuned for part 3 of "Cop Killer!"

Part 3 of The Private iTeam "Cop Killer" to be posted tomorrow...hopefully :-)

Due to my long weekend and editing time constraints...Part 3 of "Cop Killer" of The Private iTeam will be delayed one day.  For now my readers can re-read the first two parts, click on the links and enjoy the short stories I've posted in between.  I hope everyone on the east coast and general New York area had a great, great weekend.

Mack The Hot Dog Man

Today was a nice warm, Spring day out  here on Long Island.  When I was in NYC last weekend I walked by a few hot dog salesmen both near Central Park and some of the crosstown streets.  On the block that I grew up on downtown, we had a neighborhood icon "Mack" the hot dog man.  For many years good old Mack pushed his hot dog stand on the neighborhood corner and sold the best hot dogs ever.  He always got the best and sold us the best.  He could whip you up a hot dog of your choice toppings in a matter seconds.  His drinks were also always ice cold.  Back then a hot dog and drink would cost you a $1.25.  Last Saturday I spent $5.00 for a hot dog and bottled water at Central Park West.  It was a good dog too.  Reminded me of Mr. Mack, who has long since vanished from his famous corner in my old neighborhood.

In addition to his great hot dogs  ice cold drinks and the speed in which he could serve you, was his amazing ability to render you the proper change from his change dispenser/coin holder in a matter of split seconds without even looking down to count.

What would New York be without its hot dog salesmen?  I don't know.  But, I do know that they sure give it something more than just "hot dogs".  They give it a sidewalk, entrepreneurial spirit, as well as a closeness and connection with different ethnic and socio-economic factions in the city.  We all pay the same price for that same hot dog no matter if you're rich, working class or poor, or black or white.  Hot dog stands are like your neighborhood water coolers.  You can learn a lot about what's going on in your neighborhood from the hot dog man.  It's a beautiful thing.

No Borough Bias Here - Yo Brooklyn Is Back!!

Some friends who have read my blog keep asking me why I don't show more of the other boroughs in New York City.  They wonder why I'm so borough biased.  Well...it's plain and simple.  I was born and raised in Manhattan.  But some of the best friends I've had in my life or have met come from all over the city.  As time goes on with this blog, I will be covering the uniqueness, beauty and stories from the other boroughs.    For now please do enjoy these samplings from Brooklyn.  The pictures on this page are courtesy of my friend and Brooklyn native, Ronni G!

Brooklyn has been an integral part of the creative talent pool throughout the modern history of New York City.  Yeah, yeah it has it's own negative history during the hard times economic times of urban blight from the late 1960's through the 1980's.  But just like Manhattan, Brooklyn is definitely on the economic upswing.  Things are drastically changing for the better.  There are parts of Brooklyn that look as 21st century modern as Manhattan.  So let me just take a moment to list a few Brooklyn born and raised people who have not only contributed to New York City in and of itself...but also made major contributions to the entire world.  Remember my following lists will only be a sampling of names and links, so let's not get carried away if I missed someone.

Brooklyn has produced two of Hollywood's great directors:

Mel Brooks
Spike Lee
and history film maker Ken Burns

Brooklyn has produced three great rappers:

Big Daddy Kane
The Notorious B-I-G
and of course Jay Z

Body builders and actors:

Lou Ferrigno
Eddie Murphy (NSFW)
Mayr Tyler Moore (I'm know I'm missing Mickey Rooney, Jackie Gleason, Rhea Perlman and Steve Buscemi among others)

Here's a list of a several more Brooklynites you might know:

Mayor Rudolph Giuliani
Lena Horne (I didn't forget Barry Manilow, Neil Diamond, Barbara Streisand and Aliyah)
Iron Mike Tyson (NSFW - and I didn't forget Riddick Bowe)

Last but not least for now...I cannot forget what this man brought to one sport/team/franchise...and what that sport has brought to the world.  The one and only Red Auerbach

Footnote on other notables:  Michael Jordan was born in Brooklyn, but his family moved to North Carolina when he was a toddler.  The above list of names include people who were actually born there and lived a few years in Brooklyn before moving on with their lives.  In addition you have writers Norman Mailer, Arthur Miller and "Sienfeld" creator Larry David - all Brooklyn born.

I would hate to imagine what the last 60 years in sports, music, TV, movies and literature would be like without the contributions of just this small sample of names from above.  Many thanks to all my NYC family who are Brooklynites.  May you continue to rise again.

"Cop Killer - Part 2" © by John S LES

"Cop Killer - part 2" by John S LES

My drive into the city was pretty smooth.  The doorman at 15 Central Park West was already alerted that I was arriving and walked me in past security.  He knew my name and saw when I drove by the building in my electric blue, Corvette convertible before I parked it in a nearby garage.   Of course he couldn't wait until I walked back up to the building to ask me why a guy with a last name like Ferrari was driving a Corvette.  I told him quite simply,

"Hey bro, I don't have a place to park a Ferrari where I live at in Queens.  I'm only another worker bee in this lifestyles of the rich and famous building.  Hopefully while I'm here, you'll be the first and only person from around here to ask me that question today."

I had read a little bit about the building's construction and design ahead of time, but to see it close up was immensely different.  The lobby was huge and spacious.  It was even better in person than it was on paper or in photographs.  The average cost of the apartments in the building was $17 million, and this building looked every bit of that kind of clientele.

By the time I made it to Mrs. Walter's apartment, I was getting a little numb at being in awe of this building.  Her apartment had over 2700 square feet inside and was on a high floor.  The rooms overlooked the park.  It was absolutely spectacular.  Even though she was on the older side of her mid 30's, she too was just as gorgeous as her building.  Clearly from the close fitting, contour accenting black designer suit she was wearing, she definitely kept up some kind of exhaustive workout routine.  Her green eyes and short, dark hair highlighted her naturally attractive looks.

She was gracious and immediately complemented me on my suit.  "You look terrific in Armani, but don't be afraid to try a Hugo Boss."
"Ahh it's the Italian side of me.  But, I normally don't dress this way, Mrs. Walters - "
"Please call me, Linda."
"Yeah, well, Linda I normally don't dress this way.  In fact, if I don't have this suit back at the morgue by midnight, it might turn back into a teapot or something."

My comments got a good, room relaxing laughs as we got into our business discussion.

Initially Mrs. Walters seemed eager to hear what I had brought for her and her attorney, who was present in the apartment along with her personal assistant.  But, the novelty of how me and my team obtained that information, as well as the number of women, including his main squeeze, Sherman, started to wear on her.  She became a little more melancholy realizing that her 15 year marriage was over and that now she would be headed for a bumpy battle in divorce court.  The information I had given her only gave her a slight advantage.  I handed her attorney the  envelope containing a flash drive copy of the accompanying photos, cd recording and audio recordings of her husband's infidelities.

"May I call you, Gio?"  I nodded yes. "Good.  Gio, I hired three other private investigators who took months and had less than half of what you brought here to me today.  They did that because they know that I have money.  You did all of this within ten days.  You came highly recommended from a friend and I can see why.  You're tall, gorgeous and honest.  Nothing sexier for a soon to be single woman with money than a hot looking man, who's an honest entrepreneur."

"Linda, I try to make it my policy to not date my clients.  It wouldn't bode well for my business."

"It wouldn't bode well for you to flat out reject an influential woman, who hasn't been with a man in nearly a year and is singling you out to break her ice."

I immediately stood up.  "It's time for me to go, Linda.  I'll take my check?"

She walked over to her kitchen table and removed a certified check from her purse and handed it to me.  "Here's your check.  I hope that one day you will forgive me for my bad behavior and rude comment due to a broken heart and a lonely, rich life."

I looked at the check.  We had agreed for two weeks at $20,000.  She handed me a $75,000 check.
"Gio, don't be upset with me for overpaying you from our agreement too.  That is as much as the other three bozo investigators combined cost me.  You did 4 times the work that they did in way less time.  I'm compensating you for your honesty and efficiency."

When I made a sarcastic face, she quipped back, "Dammit, Gio.  There's no need to make an embarrassing moment for me more difficult.  You're an ambitious man. Can't you just figure out a way to do something positive with the extra compensation?  You've saved me millions in a divorce settlement and I'm thanking you.  No strings attached."


By the time I got downstairs, Darren had tried to reach me while in the elevator.  Normally we would have had a good connection, but he was trying to reach me via phone to phone, Skype.  When I walked outside the building our signal strength improved and I could see and hear what he was trying to tell me.

"Gio, take a look at what's going on down here, man!  The police have stepped up their stop and frisk trying to look for this cop killer.  They are tossing everyone!  There's a neighborhood guy down here on 14th Street that everyone calls 'Loco'.  The cops upset him so bad that he just came back at them with a knife in the streets.  The tension down here is crazy and the cops are making it worse!  Now they are chasing him down.  I'm going to follow this on my phone so that you can see."  Loco did refuse to put the knife down, and continued to run from the police as he menaced them and pedestrians on the street.  It was all over in 9 gunshots.

"What the hell!  Gio, you gotta get down here!"

A little over an hour later, Darren and I were inside St. Emeric's Parish talking to Father Manuel Cabron.  He talked to us about the tension in the streets from the stop and frisk program in New York City.  He also talked about an innocent man, who is not a model citizen and a small group of cops, who aren't on a straight and narrow path of righteousness.

"No more than all priests at all parishes are perfect servants, there are a band of cops in this area who are not perfect either.  They prey upon the weakness of others to feed their own weaknesses.  They don't enforce any laws, they just use their authority to enforce their egos."

"I hear you Father.  How does this pertain to the police officer who was shot last night?"

"Gio, I've been at this parish for 6 years now.  I walk these streets at different hours.  I know the good people here and the bad ones.  I know the good cops and the bad ones.  That police officer that was killed last night was not an honest cop.  There have been many civilian complaints on him, but they have fallen on deaf ears because his uncle is a commissioner.  Their suspect, Santiago and his whole family have been parishioners at this parish.  Although this young man is not an innocent young man to life, I know of him to be innocent of this crime of murder, because he is afraid of guns.  That is why even the good people in this community here will not turn him over to the police.  Someone shot that cop, but Santiago wasn't the one."

"Father Manuel, I don't see how either me or my agency will be any good here?  The police have Internal Affairs and the citizens have all sorts of community resources and leaders here to make themselves heard.  I mean, who would my client even be?"

"Yes we the people have community resources and the police have Internal Affairs.  But everyone is only looking for their own self interests.  I know you.  You will look for only the truth.  Hopefully before more lives are lost in this tug of war.  By looking at your suit, I know that I may not be able to afford your normal rates, but I will pay you what I can?"

"No, no.  That won't be necessary, Father.  The good Lord looked out for me earlier today.  All expenses have already been covered on this one.  I between the three of us and these four walls, the people of this city are going to have to be my client.  I promise that we will look into this.  I'll try to give it two weeks and see what we come up with."

As Darren and I were walking out the door, I turned and looked Father Manuel straight in the eyes, "Manny, by any chance, you wouldn't happen to know where I could find Santiago would you?  I mean it would make things easier for me to understand, if I could hear his side of what went down last night before the police find him.  It's important that I do."

"I knew that you would, Gio.  Sometimes when things get too hot at one location, you have to move to another location that might be more in the shade.  This parish is too small for any type of sanctuary   Too many people going in and out in such a small place and lots of eyes everywhere.  But our old parish, in Queens, the one we grew up going in - "

"St. Joseph on Jamaica Avenue."

"Yes.  It's a much better place to hide children who have turned to God for help or sanctuary.  Many things can be hidden in plain sight."

"Thanks, Father."

On our way out the door, I noticed that Father Manuel's sister, Emily had just arrived at the office.  Emily Cabron was a petite and still beautiful woman.  We dated for a few months in high school.  A few months after we had broke up, she had an unfortunate incident with her next boyfriend.  He beat and raped her.  He was later shot and killed in gunfight with the police.  She was so traumatized by the incident that she started using drugs.  Within a year her her family sent her upstate to a boarding school.  That was the last that I saw of her.  We had kept in contact through only word of mouth via her brother, Father Manuel.

We traded pleasantries, she asked for my business card, but the time had come for me to go.  Darren and I got into our cars and as we exited the church parking lot, we were immediately surrounded and blocked from moving any further by about eight police cars and one Emergency Service vehicle.  The police surrounded us with guns draw and demanded that we exit our vehicles, my small Corvette and Darren from his Chrysler 300.  Before I could even speak or identify myself, I was immediately spun around and pushed against my car.  While my hands were on the hood of my car I activated the SOS recording.

"Who the is the commanding officer here?"

"You shut your fucking mouth and just tell us who you are?  What are you some kind of lawyer?"

Just as the officer said that, he felt my gun. "Gun!" and immediately seized my arms to handcuff me.  He immediately began to Mirandize me and Darren who was also carrying his licensed handgun.  Getting permits to carry handguns in New York City is an arduous task in and of itself.  But we had our permits through the agency.  Yet we had been stopped, searched and handcuffed without any questioning or respect for our rights.  I was livid, but kept my tongue as civil as possible.

The commanding officer did finally approach after we were handcuffed.  He began asking us questions in a more calmer tone.  Once he read our ID cards, permits, and licenses, he then asked for our permission to search our car because they were looking for Santiago.  They had heard that he could be hiding in the church or being sneaked out in the trunk of someones car.  I refused the search, which was being conducted anyway without even waiting or accepting my approval or denial.  As I looked around, I recognized some of the plainclothed cops from DeLorenzo's Anti-Crime unit from the news interviews.

"Sergeant, you must be kidding me?  After me and my associate have been stopped without cause and handcuffed like this, you expect me to turn around and give you the okay for searching my car - which you're men are doing anyway?  Tell you what Sgt. I'm betting that as we speak there are phone calls being made by my office to the Commissioners office, my attorney, the Civil Complainant Review Board, and my cousin, who's Chief of D's.  You can't solve one problem by creating another."

He looked at me hard. "I don't know who you are, but you're talking a big game.  I don't know if you have the juice to back it up."

I looked at his name tag, "Sgt. Brennan I don't think you have enough time to start working your way back up from meter maid.  This whole thing has the right spirit, but it's being done the wrong way.  We are war veterans, working as private investigators with authorized permits to carry our guns.  We would have cooperated had you just stopped and asked us what we were doing here.  You and everyone here preempted us from being cooperative and violated our civil rights - plain and simple.  What's your probable cause?  Two cars leaving the parking lot of a rectory?  You know, when me and my partner were overseas, even we would have to answer to someone for treating civilians like this."

"Santiago could have been snucked out in one of your cars."

"Oh really?  Well, since you and your team have been sitting on our cars the past hour and a half, just how did we sneak him into our cars?  Our cars were parked out in public view - in broad daylight?  How did we sneak him out?  Do you think we brought him out in our coat pockets?  This is harassment."

At just that same moment, the Sgt received both a radio broadcast from a Lieutenant Simmons and a phone call on his cell from a Captain Dunlap.  Marti had received my SOS transmission in the office and put in a conference phone call with a live broadcast of this stop/frisk and conversation to a friend at the CCRB, our attorney Aliyah, my cousin Alex and another friend at police headquarters.  Within seconds the handcuffs were immediately removed and all search of our vehicles stopped.  Only then did we receive a more polite and respectful line of questions.  I used the moment to get me and Darren into the teeth of the 14th precinct by advising Sgt. Brennan that we should move the conversation to the confines of his precinct building and if I could speak with Lt. Simmons when we got there.

Two hours later, Darren and I would wrap up our day in a closed door conversation with Lt. Simmons, Sgt Brennan, a couple detectives and Aliyah.  The police again blamed the whole stop and search of me and Darren on some neighborhood junkie who had claimed that we were there to hide Santiago.  In addition, Santiago's older brother once also hid at St. Emeric's to avoid being arrested for beating a man with a bat.  He had gotten into a street fight with a guy with a knife, but he had a bat.  The bat won.  But he still had to go to through the legal process. Instead he chose to hide in the church for three days before he voluntarily came out.

 NYPD brass was not about to wait three days to see if a younger Santiago was involved with killing a cop and was now hiding out in the church.  They were not going to allow anyone to sneak Santiago out of the church.  Unfortunately for them, the police task force unit that was set up to find Santiago had gotten their information about 12 hours too late.  Neither Darren nor I updated them.  But, what I  did establish in that meeting was that people in the community had asked Father Manuel to reach out to us to investigate dirty cops.  Lt. Simmons was quick to point out that IAB investigates dirty cops.

"Yes Lt., that may be, but investigating a police officer who has family with big hooks down at One Police Plaza, might prove to be a career shortening move for your average IAB detective.  After what happened today with this civilian Loco and based on how Darren and I were stopped - I can see why people in this community have a growing mistrust of the very police officers they are suppose to trust."

"Let me tell you something Gio - I know all about you, your father and your family.  Your father retired from this job.  I had an occasion to work with him many years ago.  When you were born this city averaged nearly 2000 murders a year - not including all the attempted murders.  Now we average less than 100 murders.  This city is a much safer place than when you were born.  Your sarcasm is pissing me off and pissing on the time that men like your father and uncles put into this job.  Or perhaps you missed all of that while you were gone overseas?"

"'A large reservoir of good will was under construction when I left the Police Department in 1994.  It was called community policing.  But it was quickly abandoned for tough-sounding rhetoric and dubious stop-and-frisk tactics that sowed new seeds of community mistrust.'"

"What is that?  Some idealistic rhetoric from the 1960's?"

"No, Lt.  Those were the words of the then former and now present Police Commissioner, Raymond Kelly back in 2000.  Now that his views have apparently changed.  All I want to know is, who's watching the people that are supposed to be watching over this city, to make sure they are doing the right thing?"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You know Lt, I was on the job too, if even for a minute.  I know that Anti-Crime units work in sets of 2 or 3 or a whole team of people.  What was DeLorenzo doing out there on the streets, going after a perpetrator with no backup?  Where was his partner, Lt?"

"That's none of your business.  That's police business."

"Yeah, well I wonder if I look hard enough I wonder if I'm going to find out that part of the reason that DeLorenzo died is because he's a hot head - can't do anything wrong - type of cop?  I wonder if I'm going to find out that because of his family hooks in the department - no one has laid the hammer down to correct him along the way?  In fact, I'm betting that his hands off grooming has ultimately led to his death and that there's people on the streets lined up to expound on his misdeeds to me and the media, based on all this community trust the department has been putting in the bank for a rainy day."

"Sure, go listen to the testimony of a skell.  You're an embarrassment to your father's good name."

"Funny, Lt., I was treated like a skell today all while wearing a $3,000 suit and earning a honest living.  The people are beginning to wonder just who are the skells?  The hoodlums on the street, or members of this department?"  As I stood up, I took one more shot at rattling his cage, "And for your information, my father is embarrassed - but only from the way things are being handled on this job by loafers who were good at taking promotional tests but, couldn't handle themselves on the street without a badge and a gun."

"Ms. Mitchell can you kindly escort your clients out of my precinct before I have them arrested as pollution.  Be advised, if they break any laws regarding police business I will be seeing you sooner than later."

Outside the precinct, Aliyah tore into me, "Gio, just what the hell were you trying to do up there?  Get us all locked up for Jay walking or spitting on a curb?  Come on use your head!"

"I was using my head, Aliyah.  What I did up there is only the beginning.  They want to rattle cages around here.  Let's see how they react when someone rattles their cage?  Yesterday we had a cop killed.  Today we have a man shot dead on the streets holding a knife.  Then Darren and I get handcuffed like common criminals for doing nothing but exiting a church.  And let's not forget that right now I have a priest who's more afraid of the police than he is afraid of neighborhood hoodlums.  Something just isn't right."

"Fine, Gio.  But if you're going to disturb a hornet's nest, you're suppose to do it while they are sleeping, not while they're out flying around carrying guns."

Darren shook his head in agreement as I gave him a sarcastic look.  "Oh so you're agreeing with her now?  You weren't smiling when they were frisking us and searching our cars?"

"That's because at the time I was pissed.  But I wouldn't want to agitate a Lt right in his own precinct."

"Yeah well, I did that to see how far this dirty cop theory goes.  He's their boss.  Whether he knows or doesn't know who's dirty, he's still going to lead us right to them.  Once he goes blow some steam in front of them about me - I'm sure we'll be hearing from them."

We all got into our cars and headed our separate ways.  Darren went back uptown to his condo in Harlem.  Aliyah back to the Upper Eastside, and me back to Queens.  I already had Marti and Grace start pulling as much public information that they could get online about the 14th precinct Anti-Crime unit.  I needed all of their names.  I also told her to give Edge a call.  We would be needing his technological expertise on all the members in that unit.  Wherever the public information ended and classified information began, Edge could find it and give us that information.

When I pulled up into my driveway, I could see that an object had been placed on my doorstep.  I couldn't tell what it was until I got closer.  When I did, I could see that it was a dead rat thrown on my stoop.  Perfect.  Whoever that person or persons that did this, didn't know was that my house was surrounded by hidden camera's along with motion sensors, and an alarm system.  I checked my computer system inside and all was functioning well.  I didn't bother looking at it becauseI knew it was all already saved, and downloaded to a back up system.

My sister Bianca lost her husband to a car accident.  It had been a couple of days since I spoke to her son, my nephew Michael.  Instead of watching video, I gave him a quick call before it got any later.  Above all things, family mattered in my family.  When Michael lost his father, Michael, senior, all of the men in our family from both sides made it our business to check in on him.  Moreover, since Bianca was closest to me, it was I who was going to be his surrogate father until she was able to move on.

Tomorrow would be another day.  After I found that rat on my stoop, I forswore that everyone behind that rat was going go down.