THAT NIGHT EIGHT YEARS AGO

THAT NIGHT EIGHT YEARS AGO

Detective Second Grade Robert Goren took a deep, long drag from his cigarette. As he dropped the butt on the ground, he reveled in the heat and acrid taste in his mouth and throat. He crushed the butt under his worn boots, grateful for the slight warmth the activity provided. He knew smoking was bad for him and that some day he'd pay for it, but he'd started in the high school after he quit the basketball team and the habit grew worse when he was in the Army and on long surveillance assignments. The cigarettes followed him to his work as a policeman.

"Damn…I thought when I got my gold shield I'd be doing a lot less of this," Detective Odafin Tutuola grumbled. He wrapped his arms around his body in an effort to keep warm. "And why am I always on the coldest corner of the city?"

Bobby smiled. "Cleary told me he was on the coldest corner of the city tonight."

Fin snorted. "Whatya doing out here anyway, Goren? You could be back in the van…"

"If it's my operation, I'm going to be outside," Bobby answered. "Besides, if I'm in the van, the Brass is right on my rear."

"Don't think they have anything to complain about with you," Fin said. "Your squad has a good record…Maybe the best of any Narcotics squad in the city…"

"Your squad's numbers aren't too shabby, Fin." Bobby looked down the street. "It's good to be working with you guys."

Fin sensed Bobby Goren wasn't comfortable with praise. His reaction didn't entirely surprise Fin. In Fin's experience, many of the best cops in the NYPD weren't comfortable with praise, while some of the worst grabbed at glory they didn't deserve at every opportunity.

"So, you think this guy will show?" Fin blew on his gloved hands.

"I don't know," Bobby admitted. "He's not the brightest dealer I've come across…Truth be told, Fin, I'm not sure I want him to show up."

"You don't feel sorry for this loser, do you?" Fin had heard the stories of Goren getting in the heads of perps and had seen several examples of it during this case.

"No…Reyes made his own bed…There's no excuse for what he's become." Bobby stared down the street. "But I understand why he became what he is."

"I gotta admit…I wonder sometimes…This whole drug business," Fin said. "If the powers that be would just legalize it…."

"We'd be out of business," Bobby said. "And we'd have a whole new set of problems. But it does seem sometimes like we're sticking our fingers into a dam that's falling apart."

"Know what you mean, man…Know what you mean." Fin shook his head. "And God knows we know what this stuff can do to people."

Bobby thought of his lost older brother. "Yea…"

"Goren…" Detective Matt Cleary's voice crackled in the earpiece in Bobby's right ear. "Linder says Reyes is headed your way…He's in his usual car…But he's got someone with him…She can't get a good look at the passenger…"

Bobby frowned as he lifted the tiny microphone to his mouth. "Reyes is supposed to be alone. What does Phillips think?"

"He doesn't think we should worry about it, of course," Cleary said.

Fin, also listening on his radio, smiled.

"Well, tell Phillips I think we should worry about it," Bobby said. "I've already let him go without a vest or a wire. I don't trust Reyes or anyone who might be with him."

Cleary chuckled. "Don't worry, Goren. I'll keep an eye on the kid."

"Phillips is in a hurry to make a name for himself," Fin said.

"He's a good cop," Bobby said. "But…This is his first time playing a role…He's just out of the Academy. Comes from a family of cops…He thinks he has a lot to prove…and that he's invincible. He's smart and he's honest, and I think he could be a great cop with some seasoning."

"You're still worried about him," Fin said.

"Yea…I want him to get that seasoning," Bobby admitted.

"You should be able to see Reyes' car," Cleary said over the wire.

Fin slumped on a step, giving a good impression of a junkie or drunk. He watched as Goren shuffled over to an alley and produced an impressive rendition of a mentally ill man. He was so good that Fin understood some of the rumors that flew around the big cop. Fin hadn't been pleased when he learned that his squad would have to join Goren's, and he was less pleased when Goren was named head of this operation over Eva Linder. But Fin, along with the rest of his squad, was impressed by Goren. The "big guy", as Linder referred to him by the second day, spread out the credit and took little, took blame and gave little of it, and worked harder than anyone. Fin liked Bobby Goren.

Bobby lifted the lid of a nearby trash can and surveyed its contents. It was the sort of thing homeless people did, and most people assumed only a crazy person would have interest in a trash can's contents. His years as a cop had lead Bobby to discover that the trash contained a great deal of information about his fellow human beings, and that they tended to ignore, or to pretend to ignore, those who rummaged through it. Both his years as a cop and as the son of a mentally ill mother taught him that people also disliked dealing with obviously disturbed people who created disturbances. When he was on surveillance, Bobby tried to disappear, but sometimes it was impossible to hide his six feet, four inches, and change body. Sometime hiding in plain sight by creating a scene was the best option.

Fortunately, at the moment there weren't many people around whose attention he didn't want. He was always uneasy when major deals were about to go down, although he'd dealt with many in his days at Narcotics. This deal wasn't as major as some, but catching Reyes and charging him would give the DA a great deal of leverage to get Reyes to turn on his distributors. Reyes faced long, hard time, not because he was a particularly vicious or hardened criminal, but because he wasn't a particularly good one. Some people, Bobby thought, became criminals because they didn't have a chance, some because they were greedy, but some, like Reyes, because they just weren't very smart. Reyes worried Bobby because not very smart people often did not very smart things. Bobby was also worried about this unknown person traveling with Reyes. He didn't think Reyes was capable of violence if the dealer was alone, but the presence of another person disrupted the equation. Bobby was also worried about Tommy Phillips. He liked the kid, thought that he was a hard worker trying to live up to the considerable reputations of his father and uncles. Bobby was at first irritated when the Brass foisted Phillips on his squad. As someone who had no family or friendly ties to the NYPD—if anything, his family's relationship with the police was a hostile one—Bobby was occasionally resentful or envious of those with such ties, especially if they used said ties for personal advancement or to hide something. But Bobby also knew how a man's family could lead to preconceptions about him, and he'd welcomed Phillips with an open if wary mind. The kid proved to be a strong addition to his team, but this was his first real work in the field. Phillips had cultivated Reyes, and sold this operation to Bobby and the squad. Phillips had also convinced Fin's squad to join Bobby's in the attempt to catch Reyes's distributors. In the process, Bobby strongly suspected that Phillips had minimized the dangers involved.

Bobby shot a glance up the street. A highly polished black muscle car gleamed in the street lights and rumbled up the road. The thought that his friend Lewis would like to take a look under its hood flickered across Bobby's mind. He saw Reyes in the driver's seat, and his brief look at the dealer's face increased his worry. After the car passed him, he whispered into his mike. "Everybody…Be sharp…Reyes looks nervous…"

The car stopped at the corner. Phillips emerged from the building nearest the car. Reyes slipped from the driver's side. His passenger, a large black man dressed in a leather jacket, expensive sneakers, and black jeans, stepped from the passenger side.

"Bad news," Fin's voice crackled in Bobby's ear. "That's Louis Dewey…Nasty, big time dealer…I thought he was away upstate…"

Bobby felt for his gun. Anyone who could scare Fin was someone he didn't want anyone to deal with, let alone give to a relatively inexperienced officer. "All right," he said into the mike. "Let's get ready to shut this down and get Phillips out of there…"

Linder made a quick protest, but Cleary agreed with Bobby. "I got a better view," Cleary said. "The big guy isn't happy about something…Reyes is jumpy…and Phillip's confused…He's doing a good job of hiding it, but the kid's confused."

Bobby caught Fin's eye. On opposite sides of the street, they shuffled towards the corner. A shout behind them caused both Fin and Bobby to look over their shoulders. About a half dozen kids, two of them wearing leather letter jackets, were walking down the street.

"We got civilians," Bobby said calmly and softly into his mike. His voice didn't betray his pounding heart. "Let's try to shut this down."

Bobby continued to move toward the corner. He again caught Fin's eyes, and jerked his head in the kids' direction. Fin responded with a quick nod and turned to move towards the kids. Bobby was now close enough to make out Phillips and Reyes' faces. Dewey wore a cap pulled down low to obscure his face. Reyes was agitated. Phillips was talking, talking too much and too quickly. In the distance Bobby saw Linder appear on the street far beyond the three men and heard her soft "Damn" over the wire. Dewey waved a hand in disgust, and Reyes pulled a handgun from his coat. He jammed the gun against Phillips' chest and shoved the young cop against the closest building.

"I'll waste him for you, Dew!" Reyes yelled.

Bobby heard, saw, felt everything. He tasted the fear in the air. Although they were behind him, he sensed the terror of the kids as Fin tried to get them to a safe place.

"Ok," Bobby thought. "Civilians first, cops second, me last."

He took a deep breath and lumbered towards the three men, singing a faintly remembered song from when he was a kid.

"Kookabura sits on the old gum tree. Merry, merry king of the bush is he…"

Dewey, Reyes, and Phillips all turned towards Bobby. Phillips' eyes widened, but he quickly covered his shock. Reyes stared at Bobby and pulled the gun away from Phillips.

"What the…" Dewey muttered.

"Wow!" Bobby cried. "Cool piece!"

Reyes' eyes swung wildly from Phillips to Bobby. The gun wavered in his trembling hand.

"Get rid of the mental," Dewey said.

"Back off!" Reyes shouted and swung the gun to point at Bobby.

"All right," Bobby thought. "Now if Phillips will just not try to play the hero."

As if he heard and decided to ignore Bobby's thoughts, Phillips inched toward Reyes. Dewey's hand jerked to his coat, and the young cop froze. Before Reyes could point the gun back at Phillips, Bobby stepped forward and seized the gun barrel. The three other men gasped. Behind him, Bobby heard one of the kids scream.

"Hey!" Bobby said. "It's real! Wow…Are you good with it? Do you practice? They won't let me have guns. If I had one, I tell you…The rats and pigeons…I'd wipe 'em out…You know a pigeon is just a rat with feathers? I guess that makes a rat a pigeon with fur…"

Dewey and Reyes stared at Bobby. Phillips seemed to struggle with several thoughts. Only Bobby seemed calm and cool. He still held the gun's barrel, which brushed against his coat.

"Reyes," Dewey said coolly. "Too many people around…Let's walk away…Get out of here…"

"Let it go," Bobby thought. "Reyes…Phillips…Don't do anything stupid…"

Phillips seemed determined to do everything Bobby didn't want him to do. "We had a deal," the young cop said.

Bobby released his hold on the gun and turned so that he blocked Phillips from the two dealers. "You got a deal going down?" He winked at the younger man and hoped Phillips got the message.

"No," Dewey said coldly. "There's no deal. Let's get out of here…"

Bobby glanced at Phillips, hoping that Reyes and Dewey wouldn't notice.

"This wasn't my fault," Reyes cried.

"Right," Dewey said dismissively. "It's not your fault…"

"I'm sorry," Phillips said. "I don't know what's going on, but I'm sorry." His voice carried just enough hurt and apology to placate Dewey.

Reyes was another case. "He knows too much." The dealer waved the gun. "He knows you and me…I'll waste him for you…And this guy…" He shoved the gun against Bobby's side.

Bobby was terribly aware of everything around him—Phillips' fear, Reyes' desperation, the kids' terror, and Dewey's disgust. He knew the other cops weren't in any position to help to help him or Phillips. He knew that several cars now moved on the street, and could hear another group of kids—probably coming from the same party as the first—had just turned the corner. Bobby took a deep breath.

"Reyes," he said softly and slowly turned.

Phillips stiffened, and Reyes stared at Bobby. The wavering gun was less than an inch away from Bobby's stomach.

"It's over, Reyes," Bobby said. "Things are out of your control."

Reyes, trying to reconcile the calm man in front of him with the lunatic of a few moments before, continued to stare at Bobby.

"Dewey isn't impressed with you," Bobby continued. He might have been in the squad room quietly explaining a point to his captain. "He's upset that you've placed him in this position. Dewey's just gotten out…Getting caught in this could send him right back…The fact he's carrying isn't going to help him."

Dewey, who'd edged away from Reyes, stopped and eyed Bobby. "Cop," he said. "You're a cop." Fear crept into his eyes. "Damn it, Rey…Can't you do anything right?"

Reyes stared wildly around him. Phillips started to move forward, but Bobby stopped him by raising a hand.

"Reyes," Bobby said. "It's not working. You're not impressing Dewey…Your plan has fallen apart…You couldn't know…That all these things would happen …The kids…That someone would betray you…But you can still save this…Save yourself…Put the gun down…"

"No…No…" Reyes muttered. "I've got too many strikes against me…I'll do hard time."

"Maybe," Bobby conceded. "But the DA has some leeway…And…" He looked at Dewey. "In some places…Dewey has friends…Friends who could make it easy or hard for you…"

"This…my big break," Reyes said.

"Ok," Bobby thought. "Everyone stay cool. I'm reaching him…Give me time…He'll put it down…No one will get hurt…"

"Reyes," Bobby said. "It's not just you…Look around…There's a lot of innocent people…I know your sheet…You don't have a violent history…That gun…It's a semi-automatic. You start shooting, you might not stop, and a lot of people could get hurt. And they might be people you didn't want to hurt."

"You…him…" Reyes jerked the gun towards Phillips. "I won't miss you…"

"You start shooting," Bobby said. "And the other cops start shooting too…You won't leave here without getting hurt…Probably killed…And if Dewey gets hurt…or worse…his friends and associates will look for your family and your friends."

The gun was still close to Bobby, but Reyes was increasingly confused.

"Too many wild cards," Bobby thought. "Phillips…Dewey…the kids…anyone coming down the streets or out of the buildings…Please…please…Reyes…Put it down…Put it down…"

The gun pointed down.

"Fool," Dewey hissed. "Stupid fool…To think…"

Reyes' eyes widened, and Bobby knew he had to move. He seized the gun before Reyes could raise it again. For less than a second, nothing moved, there was no sound, the world stopped. Then, the sharp, brutal, horrible crack of a gunshot filled the air.

END CHAPTER ONE