A Cop's Tale by Jim O'Neil & MEL FAZZINO

Author:Jim O'Neil & MEL FAZZINO [O’NEIL, JIM]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781569804377
Publisher: Barricade Books

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Internal Affairs Division

After finishing my pre-promotion course I was assigned to the almost crime-free 69th Precinct in Canarsie, Brooklyn. It was adjacent to the 73rd and included an industrial area that acted as a buffer between the crime-infested streets of Brownsville and the quiet Italian and Jewish residential neighborhoods of Canarsie.

I wasn’t ready for the lack of excitement the 69th offered. The rush I got from working high crime areas was almost narcotic and since coming to the 69th I’d been going through withdrawal. Almost ten months of relatively crime-free tours and I was climbing the walls. The boredom pushed me into a direction, that as a good cop, I never imagined I’d go.

It was mid-December when my old partner, Eddie Schneider, called and said he wanted to meet me at the Highway Inn to discuss a proposition. Eddie was already sucking on some suds when I got there. As I walked to the end of the bar I motioned to Earl Bellow to set me up with a beer and parked myself on a barstool next to my old partner.

“Okay, here’s the deal,” Eddie began. “I was approached by Internal Affairs about transferring into their outfit. Seems they don’t have any bosses with investigative backgrounds. Not one ex-detective in the entire division.”

“Yeah, well I’m not surprised,” I told him. “You’re not going to join up with that bunch of scummers are you?”

“That depends on you.”

“Me? What do I have to do with it?”

“I know you, Jim. You miss the excitement.”

“True, and that’s the only reason I’m still listening. Go ahead.”

“There’s this cop named Clifford Dumont, who works in the Bushwick section of Brooklyn. They know he’s dealing drugs. But they’ve been after this guy for three years and can’t get the goods on him.”

“There aren’t many saints on this job but I draw the line on stuff like that,” I told him. “A cop dealing drugs needs to be taken down, like any other dirtbag. I love this job too much to let my hatred for IAD stand in the way of getting a scum-sucking pig like this Bushwick cop off the streets.”

“I was counting on you to feel that way,” Eddie responded, “because I told IAD I’d take the transfer if you came with me.”

I finished my beer, shook Eddie’s hand, smiled and said, “Let’s get that son of a bitch.”

Two weeks later 1974 was just starting as Eddie and I reported to our new assignment. Without letting anyone in IAD know what we were doing we began putting a team together that would be capable of getting enough on Dumont to send him to slam city for a long time.

We set up a temporary office in the basement of an old, unused precinct house in Brooklyn. I grabbed three undercovers out of narcotics and had them assigned to my team. There was nothing on paper to indicate where they went and nobody in their units knew what happened to them—they just weren’t there anymore.

Eddie and I

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