Circle of Six by Randy Jurgensen

Author:Randy Jurgensen
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781934708859
Publisher: Red Wheel Weiser Conari

WITNESS

I was lost in the borough of pizzerias, churches, and funeral parlors. My first stop was the 8-4 Precinct, which was located about 2,000 feet south of the Manhattan Bridge. After that, there were twenty-three more.

I delivered the forty-nine to the 8-4 squad, where all of the detectives knew me and my story. I was told the forty-nine would be placed at the fingerprint board. Anyone collared would have to look directly at the report while being printed. I was given directions to the next nearest precinct, the 7-6 in Carroll Gardens.

It took me almost an hour to find the 7-6; this wasn't going to work. I needed help. I made my way up to the squad, handed the forty-nine to the DTs, and explained my dilemma. A uniformed cop heard my story. I saw him bolt from the squad room. When he returned, I was surrounded by ten uniforms. I thought the fervor for the case had subsided, but I was wrong. After updating half of the precinct's patrol force on the progress of the case, the PBA delegate offered to deliver the forty-nines to the closest three precincts. He'd have those cops deliver it to their neighboring three precincts, and this would continue until all the forty-nines had been passed out through Brooklyn. It worked.

I got the same help from the Manhattan precincts. I split the work, delivering half myself.

Within one day, Vito received three calls, two in Brooklyn, and one in lower Manhattan. Whether these collars turned out to be relevant to my investigation didn't matter. What was important was the fact that the plan had worked. It was just a matter of time before some arrestee would have some information to trade. I hit the lower Manhattan precinct first. The perp wasn't even a Muslim. It took me almost two hours to find each precinct in Brooklyn. Both of those perps were Muslim, but they turned out to be fruitless. I went back to Manhattan to continue papering the remaining precincts.

This went on for weeks. I'd deliver the forty-nines, then I'd call in to the 2-5 where I'd be given more precincts with arrested “Muslims,” wanting to talk. Most of the time, the arrested individuals weren't Muslim, but they all claimed to know someone, who knew someone, who knew a Muslim. And of course, I'd get a call from the ass-end of Brooklyn, which would turn negative results, and then I'd get another call from the Bronx, then another across two boroughs into Staten Island. This started to wear me down, but it was my only plan of action.

I worried that eventually this paper drive was going to find its way to the Farrakhan mosque, and then I'd be fucked. My instinct told me they weren't aware that we were even investigating the murder, which gave me room to maneuver. It also gave me the element of surprise, if and when someone was collared with legit information to trade. I couldn't help it. The plan went on for weeks with no results.

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