Vice Cop Ch. 12

"Child, you act as if I'm the Dowager Empress of Russia about to eat you up with my disapproval. I love that you found someone, honey. I've accepted that you became a cop like your father even if I would have preferred you became a singer like me. You sure took a long time in getting a man. I was so worried. But I don't see an engagement ring anywhere."

"Mother, we won't talk about that. For now, everything is right. Besides, you and Papa lived without being married too."

"I don't care to argue with you, sugar. I mostly argue with your father these days and that's enough for me."

They shared another laugh.

For some reason, Lexa felt like talking to her mother about an innermost secret feeling, something she had never told anyone about. Hudson Banach. She knew it was wrong to have feelings for someone as she had for Hudson but do everything in her power to fight it, to turn her back on it, and yet to feel as if she belonged with someone other than the person she was with. She knew that her mother would understand if she told her about Hudson. Before falling for Officer Emeric O'Neil, Katrina had been engaged to a black man from Mississippi, her first beau, but she developed stronger feelings for Officer Emeric. She knew what it was like to be with someone and to think of someone else she'd rather be with. Still, Lexa kept quiet. Besides, Lexa thought, maybe eventually I'll forget all about Hudson altogether.

THREE

* * * *

It was Saturday night.

Lexa knew that her mother was feeling somewhat sad, since apparently she was having some degree of marital difficulties, so Lexa invited her mother to go dancing. It nearly flipped her wig. But Lexa managed to talk her into it. The club was small and it was said to be a hot spot in East Long Island, where live bands played. The night they went, a jazz quartet was the attraction. There was a lot of bright lighting, and couples weren't interested in dancing, although some hit the dance floor at any rate. She walked into the club side by side with her mother, who looked at the place with a discomfort.

"Child, how is it you talked me into coming here?" Katrina said.

"It's going to be alright. Here, I'll buy us some drinks. You sit on that table right there. It's out of the way and you won't be around all the noise."

Katrina sat down and continued to look around her. She put her black purse on her lap. She was wearing a cocktail dress that was long and the hem nearly touched her feet. She didn't wish to dance, just to drink and to enjoy the ambiance. The music was modern,something from The Bangles, some Madonna, ABBA, The Go-Go's and David Bowie. None of these groups or singers interested her in the least.

She had lost sight of Lexa. She hated that so many young people were up and about, reminding her of her own lost youth. She had never been into the party scene in New York, not even when she was younger and dances like "the twist" or jazzy "groovy" 1960's dances were all the rage.

She would have liked to have come here with her husband Emeric but the man was enjoying retirement without her. She had never expected such a thing to happen. Well, she thought, the best thing to do is to enjoy my own life in one way or another - independently. Many women her age began to work again, or to start little businesses or become hardcore socialites. She had made up her mind to gradually return to singing opera. It would take a lot of warming up and preparation. She wondered if anyone still remembered her. She had stopped receiving fan mail since 1977.

Lexa approached the bar.

She was, as it turned out, the only female among many males at the bar at that moment. The men were young, and were evidently looking to attract girls. She was about to ask for drinks, when someone tapped her shoulder. She turned around quickly, and she was face to face with Hudson Banach. Her jaw nearly dropped.

"Banach? What are you doing here," she said to him.

Next to him was his new friend and Vice cop partner, Vince McClintock. They smiled at her and thought the whole thing was amusing.

"I'm single, Lexa," he said to her flatly, "and so is Vince. I'll give you three guesses as to why we're here."

"But why Long Island? What you had no luck with all the bars in New York City?"

"Not funny, Lexie. The real question is why are you here without Mason? Are you undercover?"

"I am not," she said, "and I'm here with mother. I came to visit her. I thought it was about time she got out. And it's really none of your business, Banach."

She hated saying "it was time she got out" as if her mother was a dog that had to be walked.

"I'm sorry I've upset you, Lexa, " Hudson said, and Lexa noticed sincerity in his voice.

Was it possible he had changed? They locked eyes for a moment but because Vince was right there with him, they didn't prolong their staring.

"Have fun, if you need anything, just let me know, and I'd be happy to assist you and your mother," Hudson said.

How things had changed! Was it possible that he had grown up a lot since that ordeal with the Chinese girl? She smiled back and bought her drinks.

"Hudson, why are you being so sweet to her?" Vince said, puzzled, raising an eyebrow, "the guys on the force tell stories about how you two are at each other's necks all the time. The Chief says you're like Spencer Tracey and Katherine Hepburn. You have never been so nice to her before."

"I can't explain why," Hudson said and his eyes followed Lexa back to the table where her mother sat, "it's just, I don't know. I'm not going to be the same always. It's time to let go of the past."

"Ok, but you say it like you're....sad."

"Hey, Vince, let's not talk about it."

They ordered drinks for themselves and now and then Hudson stared into Lexa's direction.....

FOUR

Lexa and her mother sat at the same table and drank, talking the night away. Lexa remembered childhood incidents she had long forgotten, brought to memory again by her mother. She remembered the piano her mother used to use for vocalizing and recalled how she herself would play music too, not only beautiful opera scores or beautiful pieces of Schubert and Chopin but ballads and folk songs, spirituals, Gospel and even some Stephen Foster. Lexa liked to slip into more modern purely musical pieces like "Last Date" by Floyd Cramer or Henry Mancini. "Moon River" was her favorite.

She learned how to play the piano like her mother and learned to play everything in her song bank. But it was so long ago, and she had been a cop for a long time, the music was no longer there in her mind or memory........

After a while, she suddenly felt sad and felt the urge to call Mason. She had not told him that she would remain with her mother for an extra evening. She was certain he was home by now. It was approaching midnight. She excused herself and went to the nearest payphone. It was situated outside the club near a lonely alley, where the glare and lights of the neon signs advertising the club cast luminous halos over the shadowy parts of the alley. The phone was in a glass booth. She discovered that another woman was using the phone so she waited, and inevitably heard the conversation.

"Yes, honey, I'll be there as soon as possible," the woman said, "I love you."

She heard bits and pieces of the conversation and it was obvious the woman was also spending time in Long Island away from her significant other, a husband. Hearing conversations like these often saddened Lexa, unexplainably. It often felt as if she was missing out on things other people were doing, because her life as a cop didn't always entail having a more rich life. She was always sad at any rate, and she knew that she had no reason to be sad. Or did she? Oh, if only that woman would hurry up. Why did life remind her of how terribly lonely one could be in a city, even when one wasn't entirely alone at all?

"Do you need to use the phone, dear?" the woman said.

"Oh yes," Lexa said, suddenly very grateful, "I'm sorry. I was just -"

"That's alright. I took far too long. Here you go, dear."

How sweet people could be, even strangers.

She put quarters in and dialed the number to her Manhattan apartment. It rang for a few minutes and before long Mason picked up.

"Mason, it's me Lexa," she said to him, "I've missed you."

"Oh, darling, it's only been a few days. Are you enjoying your time with your mother?"

"It's been wonderful. But I forgot to mention that I was going to stay here for another extra day. How is everything in Manhattan?"

"It's uneventful. I've been doing a lot of office work. I haven't taken up any homicide cases lately. I expect that shall change soon."

"I'll be with you soon."

"Lexa, is everything ok?"

"Why yes. Why would you think that something would be wrong?"

"You sound a bit sad."

"I'm alright. I've just been very happy with mother and I - well, we'll meet up soon. I'm just not used to taking brief vacations like this."

"I know what a hard worker you are, my love. You probably go nuts not having anything to do. The NYPD gives you so much to do. But we'll be together soon. Here's a kiss."

She smiled faintly back and hung up the phone. When she turned around and exited the booth, she nearly gasped. Hudson was right there, as if waiting for her to finish her call.

"Hudson, what are you doing out here? How dare you eavesdrop on me," Lexa said, her voice rising, "are you and Vince playing some joke on me?"

"It's nothing like that, " Hudson answered, "I needed to tell you. The Chief called just a few minutes ago. I was carrying a portable phone. I figured that I'd need it in case of an emergency. It's very urgent."

"What's happened?"

"The darkest thing, Lexa. Someone has been killing NYPD officers and he's suspected to be a cop within the Department."

"Oh my God."

"Three officers so far have been killed. Whoever he is, he's very cunning. He has left no fingerprints, no clues. Chief told me he's going to get detectives working on it soon but that every cop, from lieutenants, sergeants, captains and rookie uniform patrol officers need to be on guard."

"This is so unbelievable. How can a cop be a killer of other cops?"

"It's a total mystery. They say he puts on a different disguise and it works. Whoever he is, he's giving everyone reason to be afraid and worked up about. We need to get back to the city as soon as possible."

"I - I'm glad you told me, Hudson," she said.

"You're not going to tell your mother?"

"Lord no. She'd have a heart attack. I'll just tell her I'm needed back at the force but I won't detail. I have never been truly honest about the dangerous aspects of our jobs, Hudson. She doesn't know about the missions you and I have had to work on, for example... the psychotic serial killer in Atlantic City who butchered prostitutes like Jack the Ripper, the taxi cab driver who killed his passengers, that Satanic rock star who nearly finished us -"

"I haven't forgotten what we've gone through, Lexie."

She stared at him for a moment and a faint breeze blew, a strand of her hair wavering like a little flag before she smoothed it with her hand. Hudson looked at her with a look she hadn't seen before. It was a quiet, sad and yet calm look. The music from the club floated into the night air,

"Come on, let's go back into the club."

FIVE

As soon as word got out that a cop was responsible for killing other cops, chaos, confusion and fear spread like wildfire throughout the New York Police Department, and consequently,New York City citizens themselves. Many cops were married, and they feared the killer washad some personal vendetta against the NYPD and could take it out on innocent victims like the spouses of cops.

Everyone was angry, scared and pointing fingers. No sooner hadaccusations began than Internal Affairs got involved. They assigned cops to spy on oneanother, to report any suspicious activity and to be on the look out. It was the first timeany cop had been told that the criminal they were fighting was among their own. Chief Barry Hiller was falling apart. Constantly bombarded by the press, he was forced todeal with the public who was seeing him as something of a coward for not taking immediate action.

Internal Affairs was the most active they had ever been. Barry Hiller, too, wasfrightened, for he was feeling as if the murderous cop was one in his own precinct. Everyone feared to be alone, even for a few minutes, so partnerships among cops lasted longer andno one dared to stay alone in an office. Chief Barry Hiller put Homicide dicks to work, andit was the darkest time for the New York Police Department. Every available detective hadtheir work cut out for them.

In this dark time, Hudson was especially afraid for his own family. He didn't tell them aboutwhat was going on, but he was certain they knew. It was all over the evening news nightafter night, how no leads were found and how the mysterious "cop killer" who ironically wasa cop himself was still at large, perhaps waiting to make the next kill.

Hudson was driving one night with Vince, on duty, and he was concerned for their safety.

"Vince, did you ever suspect any one we know is behind this?" he said to him.

"I can't think of a single guy," Vince said "why? Who do you suspect killed those cops?"

"I don't know. No one knows. That's what's so scary. Whoever it is, he's a darn genius to have gotten away with it. I do know that for a long time I've had the strangest feeling that Lieutenant Isaiah Dante has something to hide. He's always so distant and cold."

"What? Dante? You got to be joking or you must be crazy. He's a lieutenant. He doesn't even go out into the streets to fight crime. He does it from his office. He's commanding an entire squad. What is it about him that makes you think -"

"His attitude. He doesn't seem to like anyone who is white. "

"That's got to be difficult for him, considering everyone around him is mostly white. He's got to be used to it. He's been with the NYPD since the 70's. We have some black officers. I don't see what the problem is."

"I don't think you understand. I think he's a racist and really nasty guy and he's hiding who he really is. He's got to be involved somehow, I don't know how. I think he has something to do with the deaths of those cops. They were all white you know."

"Come on, Dante? Our own superior? I don't believe it. It can't be what you think it is."

"I think I may be wrong. But my gut tells me something else. The best thing to do is to spyon him, to watch what he does and how reacts. Haven't you seen how his face never changes, how he never shows emotions of any kind? He's like a damn statue."

"He's just a quiet guy."

"It's always the quiet ones, Vince. He doesn't seem to have much to say to anyone, but maybe he has done a lot that can fill up a list of crimes. At any rate, I'll be spying on him, even if he a superior officer."

"You'll get yourself into dangerous territory, Hudson. If he's not guilty of anything, you can lose your badge just by trying to expose him. It would be slander. He's never liked you either."

"He doesn't seem to like anyone, not even Lexa. I think Mason likes me even more than Dante does. Mason, and you know I've butted heads with him before."

"Just be careful, Hud. I'd hate to lose a friend."

"I'm honored that you see me as a friend, Vince. I haven't had one since Kyle died...."

* * * *

Internal Affairs was on everyone's case. Because the identity of the killer was not known, everyone was being treated as a potential suspect and that didn't sit well with anyone. In the course of several weeks, various interrogations were held, and one by one, cops were being questioned, their personal lives and backgrounds checked, and the whole thing was a nightmare to many. Hudson had been called into a room, after having waited for Vince who had gone in for interrogation before him.

"Man, that was so unfair," he said, "I had to tell them everything, even dirty laundry stuff. Nothing that includes murder though. Boy is this a pain in the ass. You next, Hudson?"

"I am," he said.

He was surprised to see that Isaiah Dante was one of the interrogators. He found that odd since it was not part of his usual work. What did he have to do with Internal Affairs? He braced himself and walked into the room. It looked like a court room, even though it was not. He sat on a hot seat and he was surrounded by white faces, men, in suites and ties, looking at him with tired and yet hard looks in their faces. They had been up since dawn most likely and they had already interrogated half of the precincts in Manhattan.

Chief Barry Hiller was also there, seated, calm and looked up at Hudson in a warm, fatherly way. Hudson had always seen "Chief" as a kind of father figure, especially because he had lost his father in his teens. To his surprise and discomfort, Lexa O'Neil was also present as was Mason Holmes. They had already been interrogated but it was part of their job to continue interrogating other cops, since they were detectives. It was likely others in the rooms were detectives, too, taking notes along with I.A.

"State your full name, please," said one of the men, with jet-black hair and a dark beard.

"Hudson Stefano Banach," he replied.

He adjusted his belt buckle and sat down comfortably, keeping a very cool and relaxed demeanor. The air conditioning in the room was on and it made the whole place as cold as an refrigerator. Hudson tried hard not to let his eyes wander at Lexa and Mason.

"Officer Banach, you've been with the NYPD since early in 1980 is that correct?"

"Yeah, that's right," Hudson said dryly.

"It's now 1986. During all that time, do you recall seeing anything suspicious, anything that rubbed you as being very disturbing? And I'm not just talking working with the Police Department but before that during Academy training."

Hudson didn't want to stare at Isaiah Dante who was oddly calm and keeping his eyes on Hudson more than on anyone else. Hudson remembered the racist things Dante had said privately to other black officers, not anything overtly racist or indicating any real evil, but things that were very demeaning to whites and things that were out-of-place for a man in Dante's position.

It was the NYPD that had given him the title of Lieutenant and he was among the most respected and admired cops in Manhattan. But Hudson recalled how he was extremely interested in seeing that more black officers entered the department than whites. While this was not a bad thing, it just seemed as if Dante had a hard, militaristic and reverse Nazi-ish attitude. He knew that it would be dangerous to say anything against Dante here and now.

"My memories of the Academy and of my years a rookie cop are slowly fading," he said in earnest, "but from what I remember I have never come across anything too unusual or suspicious. All the cops I know have been very dedicated, very loyal, very good cops. I know that some cops don't always feel like they fit in, myself included because I'm told I break the rules sometimes -"

"Yes, I'm aware of how you are said to be a bit of a bad boy cop, and that you have rubbed the Department the wrong way, Officer Banach," said another man, "you're quite a local legend. Your nicknames have included "Bad Cop" and the "Italian Stallion".

Amused laughter broke out among the men. Isaiah Dante never laughed but everyone was so amused by the joke that they didn't notice. Hudson noticed. They composed themselves and the interrogation continued. Hudson was treated to a drink of water which stood next to him on table. He drank it down fast and brushed his lips. Although it was cool in the room, he felt hot and sweat pouring down his brow because of the tense and stressful situation he was in. He knew every cop that had been questioned since morning had probably felt equally uncomfortable.