The Big Guy Chapter 11

The Big Guy
Chapter 11

“All the more reason why you should step down, Joe.” Jonathan walked over and placed his hand on Wilson’s shoulder. The now-ex-chief saw that he had lost his belt and added it to those already on the desk. Then he said his ID and keys to the office, files, and personal vehicle.

“There’s nothing in the desk I want, but I will need a ride home.”

“I’ll take you, Joe. Enjoy your retirement. Come on.” Jonathan led the defeated man out and down the stairs to the parking lot. On the way, he passed a forty-something brunette who sat at the desk outside my office. After a minute or so, she walked in to introduce herself.

“I’m Sandra Milner, your secretary, Chief Cahill. I wasn’t expecting you until the week after next. Do you want coffee?”

“Yeah, well, the City Council thought I was needed now, and I don’t expect you to bring me coffee. Feel free to call me Matt unless we’re in a formal situation.”

“Sure, thanks; you can call me Sandra. The first thing I did for Chief Wilson was to bring him the activity logs from the previous day. Do you want that, also?” I nodded my agreement, and she left. I unloaded the three pistols on my desk, cleared the chambers, then walked to the door and asked Sandra if we had an armory.

“We have an officer who has combined duties between the evidence room and the guns and ammunition. His office is down in the basement. Turn left at the bottom of the stairs.” I thanked her and grabbed the three pistols in my right hand and the belts in my left with the magazines in my pockets. Down the stairs, I went to meet Officer Mulvaney. His operation was the department's most organized thing I’d yet encountered. He took the weapons from me, checked their serial numbers against those on file in his computer, and secured them in locked cabinets. I asked him about the armaments the department owned, and he showed me the complete inventory first, then the actual arms—less those in the hands of the officers or the patrol cars—typically shotguns. He described his skills in making and repairing guns. He also did ballistics comparisons in the rare crime scene or arrest that involved a shooting. I asked for a copy of the complete weapons inventory by the close of the shift, and he told me I could have it in an hour.

Then we discussed the evidence room, and he showed me the department's system. It was standard with others I’d seen, so I was satisfied. After shaking hands with Mulvaney, I returned to the office, where Sandra informed me that I was needed in Human Resources for my ID photo and to complete the required forms for payroll and insurance. She gave me directions, and I was there about ten minutes later, having gotten lost when I had made the wrong turn.

The clerk had all the forms ready for my signature and could answer my few questions while I answered hers about Max. I spent about twenty minutes there, returning to my office with several booklets describing the insurance and pension programs and my formal ID. I used the rest of the morning to review personnel files with Daryl. He had several insights I found valuable about the ages of several officers and whether or not they would be able to meet the new standards. I’d have to make some critical decisions about them. How many station personnel could we use? Might we need some neighborhood substations? Maybe Lucy would know. I could make a few exceptions, but they still have to qualify on the range. There’s no use for a police officer who can’t be counted on in an emergency.

Just before lunch break, Daryl, Max, and I walked down to my SUV for Max’s bowl and what I usually called my gym bag and then across the lot to the City’s motor pool. Well, that’s what I called it after a career in the federal government, even though the sign said “City of Bascomb’s Landing Municipal Garage.” I asked the supervisor for an inventory of the police department vehicles, commenting that I would not use Chief Wilson’s car. “Too bad,” he told me with a grin. “It’s a Lincoln,” I told him to make it available to the detectives for surveillance or whatever other need they might have.

We were returning to the office when I received another surprise from my fiancée, who brought lunch to Daryl and me. Max ran to her for a good petting, and then she reached up to give me a brief kiss. We walked together to the office, where Lucy greeted Sandra warmly—a greeting that was eagerly returned as we stepped through the doorway. “Is there anyone here you don’t know?” I asked as I laughed.

“There are a few, but Sandra was one of my babysitters when I was a kid. She goes to our church, too.”

“Thanks for reminding me. I must call Pastor Michaels to ensure I’m still on for Sunday.” As I entered the lavatory, Lucy spread the lunch onto the table to fill Max’s bowl with water. He attacked it, making a mess on the carpet. I knew then that I’d need a rubber mat for his bowl. We enjoyed Lucy's sandwiches, but I reminded her I’d have to get from home in the future. She gave me that look, and she knew I couldn’t resist, so I weakened immediately. “Well, okay, but some days I’ll have to have a working lunch, so give me a call, okay?” She smiled as we finished eating and left, but not before another quick kiss.

After lunch, Daryl and I walked into the detectives’ area, where we met with most of the officers and their sergeants. Only twelve detectives were on the day shift, ten on the second, and six on the third. “Is that enough?” I asked.

“Most of the time, it is Chief. This is a quiet town, but we’ve been getting some drug activity recently, and we haven’t been able to get to the source of it yet.” We discussed the growing problem, but I didn’t mention my involvement with the State Police. I hoped for a call soon, especially now that I was officially on the job. I thought that I’d have a productive first day.

Max and I returned to Lucy around 5:45 after spending nearly an hour at the high school track. I was pleased to see seven of the patrolmen there running, as well. I’m a good runner, but I’ll never be in Daryl’s class. In addition to the GI Bill, he had paid his way through UNC with a partial track scholarship, running the 800 and 1500 meters and several long-distance relays. We timed ourselves, and even though we were taking it easy, I still ran in 6:21 and Daryl in 6:07.

The call I was waiting for came on the following Monday morning.

“Matt, we got everything on the drug buy—audio and video from several angles, and there’s no question of being able to identify Haynes in court, but we picked up something unexpected during their conversation. Haynes told the kid that he should get the money together because they were making a huge score, and there would be hundreds of thousands to be made by everyone involved. Our kid had the good sense to ask when he could expect it, and he was told that it would be within the next couple of weeks.

“We took the tapes and audio to one of the judges in the State Supreme Court, and he was willing to give us a warrant to tap his family’s phones and plant bugs in the house.”

I had an idea, but I wanted to know how she thought they could do it. “The Haynes residence has a satellite TV service. We can disrupt it with a device that jams the audio and video portions of the transmission and causes nothing but static. We’ll intercept their call for service and send two of our detectives in for the repairs. While one fiddles around with the TV sets in the house, the other plants the bugs. They’re small, so they’ll be almost impossible to find. We should be able to get audio in almost the entire house for about ten days, and we’ll set up a service van on the street that we’ll use to get photos of everyone who enters and leaves…maybe even a few photos of activity in the house.”

“Yes, I’m very familiar with this type of equipment—the jammers and the bugs,” Julia told me she would call when she had more information. That happened only eight days later—three days after Lucy and I were officially married.

Just last Sunday, Jonathan pulled me aside at the weekly party. Once in his study, I commented, “This is when we discuss the prenup. Just give it to me. I have no problem with whatever you want.”

Jonathan laughed. “I did mention the idea to Lucille—several times--but she turned me down flat. She told me that you had the most integrity of anyone she had ever met, and she also told me that you weren’t at all interested in her money.”

“Well, she’s right on the last part. Money has never been a big issue for me. If I had a lot, I’d probably give most of it to those who need it.”

Jonathan laughed again. “That’s exactly what Lucille told me. You know, Matt…when you first asked me for Lucille’s hand, I was concerned about how quickly everything had occurred, but then, as I got to know you and could see how you and Lucille interact, all those concerns evaporated. I think you two are very well-matched. No, what I wanted to talk with you about is the growing drug problem. I know the superintendent of schools and the high school principal very well from Rotary, and they tell me that they’ve had more problems in the past month than in all our previous years combined. Can you do anything about it?”

“All I say at this point is ‘no comment.’ I doubt there is an investigation underway by the city police at this time, but I’m making it a priority as soon as I can meet with the detectives.” That satisfied him because we were back talking and mingling a minute later. Lucy greeted me with a questioning look that disappeared when I took her into my arms for a long, lingering kiss. She whispered, “I love you,” when she finally broke it.

Daryl and I felt much more at home by the end of the following week, and I had promoted one of the patrolmen to lieutenant. He stopped in just before the end of his shift that first day, knocking on the doorframe. “Chief, may I have a word?”

“Of course, Officer—I had to pause to read his name on the shirt—Officer Powell. What can I do for you?”

“It’s more of what you’ve already done. From where I stand, you’ve already taken two major steps in the right direction: getting rid of Haynes and easing Chief Wilson out. Wilson should have retired years ago. Thanks to him, the force has been a joke, and Haynes represented the worst I’ve ever seen in a police officer. He’s lazy, and I’m sure I’ve seen him sleeping on duty several times. Plus, he always brags about all the free meals he takes from our restaurants.”

“Thanks for the compliments. I agree. Haynes is a good example of addition through subtraction. What do the men think about the new standards?”

“Those of us who are serious think they’re long overdue. Those who think that being a police officer means riding aimlessly in an air-conditioned car all day are concerned about their gravy train ending, but they’ll be no loss. They’re not as bad as Haynes or Parsons but far from ideal.” We shook hands, and he left.

I spoke to the sergeant on the way out. “Tell me, Ed—is anyone here worthy of promotion to lieutenant, or should I just advertise outside?”

“I’d say the best just left your office. Dan Powell was an MP in the Army, and he’s going to the university down in Memphis to study criminology like you. He’s also as straight as an arrow and a real team player.” I thanked him and left for the track. Powell was there when Max and I arrived. He had been working out regularly. He beat me by four seconds.

Daryl and I left early on Friday afternoon after I’d done much joshing about my last day as a free man from both shifts. We drove to our house, where we changed clothes into civvies. Then Lucy joined Max, Daryl, and me for the short ride to the Methodist church for the rehearsal. We were joined by Jasmine, who would stand with Lucy as maid of honor. The wedding party would be small, but there would be over three hundred at the ceremony and reception.

My family had come in on Wednesday afternoon, and they took Lucy like ducks to water. Uncle Chuck took us to dinner that evening and pulled me aside to tell me he thought Lucy was a fantastic woman. Aunt Nell told me the same when she hugged me before turning in that evening. Constance and her family must have agreed because they were all smiles throughout their visit. The walk-through in the church was brief, and then we went to Carter’s for dinner—my treat. The only downside was that Lucy left me to stay overnight with her parents that evening. Max must have looked for Lucy for fifteen minutes before sleeping.

The next day was a dream come true. The weather was perfect—sunny, with a temperature in the high seventies and low humidity. All of us were up early for breakfast, cooked by Ingrid. After eating, I brushed the coat of our ring bearer, ably assisted by my nieces, who loved Max even more than they loved me. I showered, shaved, and dressed in my tux, and then we drove to the church. I left Max at the entrance with a small Easter basket that held our two rings. I knew I could trust Max to walk down the aisle to Daryl and me just behind Jasmine and ahead of Lucy and Jonathan.

The ceremony began at 11:00 on the dot when the organist played The Wedding March. Jasmine looked fantastic in a sleeveless, dusky blue dress that blended beautifully with her light brown skin and black hair. I elbowed Daryl, whispering, “Watch out, buddy. You’re next.” We chuckled, then turned to watch Max Walk up the aisle behind Jasmine. He stopped before me, and Daryl took the rings from the white satin pillow inside the basket.
Daryl placed the basket on the floor outside the ceremony. I pointed Max to a spot next to Daryl, and he sat there immediately. Daryl leaned down to pet him.

Now, all my attention was on my bride as she and her father strolled up the aisle toward us. I gasped as I saw Lucy in a strapless, full gown with a long train. Her hair was pulled back into a short French braid that fell to her bare shoulders. As beautiful as she looked, there was nothing to compare with her beaming smile. Her eyes were focused on mine, even when Jonathan removed her veil and gently kissed her cheek before passing her hand to mine. We turned together to face the minister, Reverend Walker.

The ceremony was thankfully short and sweet. There were a few readings from the Bible, and I noticed Lucy squeezed my hand when Rev. Walker said that “wives shall be submissive to their husbands.” I agreed, so I squeezed her hand back and almost laughed when I saw Max sitting squarely between us. Lucy also looked, as did Rev. Walker, and then we laughed as Lucy reached down to scratch Max’s ears.

Her hand was back in mine just a second later. Daryl produced the rings, and we said our vows. I kissed my bride, and we walked together to the rear of the church with Max at Lucy’s side, followed by Daryl and Jasmine, Jonathan and Marylou, my aunt and uncle, and Constance and her family. We formed a receiving line to greet our guests and receive their congratulations. More than twenty minutes before, we scrambled into the limo with Jasmine and Daryl en route to the reception at Desmond’s—the city’s finest and largest catering hall.

The cocktail hour and ensuing reception were exactly what I would have expected from my in-laws for their only daughter. No expense was spared—from Lucy’s dress, which I later learned had cost more than $25,000, to the top-shelf liquors and the thick prime rib dinners. Unfortunately, my new job meant we’d have to postpone our honeymoon. I wasn’t surprised when Lucy told me she didn’t care even a little. “I have you. That’s all I care about.” Then she sealed it with a kiss. We went home, spending all evening and the following day in bed. My family had transferred to Jonathan and Marylou’s home just a half mile away.

The following week was quiet at work until late Friday afternoon when I received a critical phone call from Julia Adams. “We got a lot from our bugs last night, but we can’t identify the people in the discussion. Do you know anyone who might be able to help us?” I did, but I was reluctant to get my wife involved. We were at the pool Saturday morning with Daryl when I told them I needed to talk confidently. “Lucy, do you remember when I wouldn’t tell you about an investigation I was getting involved in?”

“Yes, you told me that I had to trust you.”

I held my arms around her for a few precious moments. “I did that because I was afraid you might say something accidentally to the wrong person and put yourself in danger. I can tell you now that Jeremy Haynes is involved in selling drugs. The state police have him on audio and video making a big sale about two weeks ago. The guy he sold to is an informant for the State Police. They used the information from that sale to tap his phones and bug his house. Last night, there was a considerable discussion about a significant buy, but they didn’t know the players. It was a moonless night with no lights on around the house.

‘I don’t want you involved in this mess, but you’re the only person I know who might be able to identify their voices. You’re also the only person I know other than Daryl, who I can trust with this information.”

Lucy was pensive for a few minutes before replying. “I hate drugs, Matt. They’ve been making inroads into our community for a while, but the last year has been the worst. We had two kids in our high school overdose and die. I knew both of them and their families. What do I have to do?” I called Julia and made an appointment for Sunday morning, thinking I’d take Lucy to lunch with Paul McCormick. I also had to change it to another appointment. Rather than cancel my talk at the Bascomb’s Landing AME Church, Pastor Michaels suggested I go before services and leave in time to make my 11:00 appointment.

We left our house at 9:10 with Max in the rear seat and drove across town to the church, arriving ten minutes early for the 9:30 services. Pastor Anthony Michaels was at the entrance to greet us with a handshake for me and a hug and kiss for Lucy as he congratulated us on our marriage. He accompanied us up the aisle and seated us in the front pew before taking a position at the pulpit, where he introduced me. “We have some non-church business I’d like to conduct before our service begins today. I want to introduce our new Chief of Police…Matt Cahill.”

I stepped forward to shake the Pastor’s hand again and stood behind the microphone. “I originally planned to speak with Pastor Michaels during your service today, but I have to be in Memphis by 11:00 this morning to meet with the State Police and a State Attorney. That this meeting is taking place on a Sunday should tell you that it is critically important. I want to tell you that significant changes are occurring in your police force.
I could not believe that in a city where roughly forty percent of the citizens are African American, there was not even a single African American officer, nor was there a single female uniformed officer.

“I’m here to tell you I intend to recruit minority officers starting now. I see that my lieutenant, Daryl Evans, has just arrived, so Daryl, please come up and join me. Jasmine sat beside Lucy, and Daryl took a few steps to my side. “In the past, who you knew was more important than what you learned when getting a job as a police officer in this city. No more! In most cities and counties, candidates must pass a competitive exam, with only the highest scores being selected for training. That’s what we are going to do here. Those selected will participate in the police academy in Memphis before taking their places in our police force here.

“Now…I must tell you that being a minority won’t get you any breaks on the exam, but Daryl and I will teach test prep classes right here in your church hall three nights a week for several months before the exams. I feel that I know what you are thinking. I got my job because I married Lucille Bascomb, and you’d be partly right. Lucy did ask me if I would be interested, but I think you’ll agree that I’m qualified. After high school, I spent four years in the military police for the Navy. Then, I spent three years at the University of North Carolina, getting a bachelor’s degree in criminology. That was followed by ten years as a U. S. Marshal, taking on some of the most difficult cases and earning an arrest rate of more than seventy-five percent. I met Daryl Evans at UNC while taking some of the same courses. He was an MP in the Navy for three and a half years and had his bachelor’s in criminology. He then spent more than eight years as a Marshal. We’ve worked on several cases together, and I know how intelligent and wise he is. He’s also the finest man I’ve ever met. That’s why he was selected as my second-in-command. It’s also why he was my best man yesterday morning. I’ll give Pastor Michaels a schedule as soon as I have one. I have time for a few questions before we have to leave.”

There are always a few questions. Today, they were on target. One gentleman asked why there were never any police in their neighborhood. “I have permission from the City Council to set up two substations—one on the east end and another on the west end near this church. We want to have a police presence throughout the city. We plan to work on setting up community watch programs and providing vehicles for citizens to use when on patrol. It would be best not to try to apprehend criminals because that can be dangerous, but we want your eyes and ears. All of us know that black-on-black crime is a major problem in our country. We want that to stop. “We’ve had too many black victims.”

For the next one, I will ask Daryl to answer. “The basic qualifications are simple—a candidate must have a high school diploma and speak English. A second language like Spanish would be a big plus. They—and we are hoping to get some female candidates—cannot have any serious psychological problems. We do not want to give someone who is unstable or who is biased against any race or religion a gun, nor do we want someone to think that they have a license to kill. A record of criminal convictions would disqualify a candidate. That’s about it.”

Questions continued for more than fifteen minutes until Pastor Michaels called an end. I thanked him and the congregation for allowing us to meet with them. I was pleased when we left to enthusiastic applause.

I drove down to Memphis in near record time for our 11:00 appointment. One of Julia’s aides showed us to a conference room and asked if we wanted coffee. A pitcher of ice water was on a nearby table, so we opted for that. Julia entered a few minutes later with a young man she introduced as an audio technician. He wheeled in a large cart with a digital recorder/player.

The recordings were apparent, and we could hear their plans quickly. Lucy had no trouble identifying the voices. The first one was none other than Carl Haynes. “I don’t know why you had to pick now of all times to fucking retire, Joe. Now we have these two ex-marshals hanging around, and he’s throwing Jeremy out of the force. And there will be more with these stupid performance standards.”

“I had to quit. You know that. My wife is sick, and we must move to a hot, dry climate. Should I stay here to help you and kill my wife? I’m only in this for the stake and need to relocate.”

“Don’t worry about that asshole Cahill. I’ll take care of him at the right time and that Bascomb bitch, too. Have you seen that spade he convinced the council to hire?”



To be continued