Flanagan’s Legacy
175 pages
English

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175 pages
English

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Maeve had gone to get her laptop computer and returned almost immediately with it.
Her expression was also one of disbelief.
“Look at the expression on that bastard’s face.” Nick said. “He knows what he’s doing. That Sonuva bitch is guilty. That’s the kind of shit that makes our job so freakin’ hard.”
“Why?” was Mike’s only response.
“There’s gonna be a whole lot of deep shit over this.” Nick replied.
“We are going to get this crap shoved down our throats Mike. You mark my words. We are in for it.”
Mike glanced sideways at his friend. He nodded, but did not reply.
The News Announcer stared straight ahead, unflinchingly, at the cameras.

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Publié par
Date de parution 17 mai 2023
Nombre de lectures 0
EAN13 9798823008594
Langue English
Poids de l'ouvrage 2 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0200€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

FLANAGAN’S LEGACY
BOOK TWO
VITO BELCASTRO


AuthorHouse™
1663 Liberty Drive
Bloomington, IN 47403
www.authorhouse.com
Phone: 833-262-8899
 
 
 
 
 
 
© 2023 Vito Belcastro. All rights reserved.
 
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.
 
Published by AuthorHouse 05/16/2023
 
ISBN: 979-8-8230-0858-7 (sc)
ISBN: 979-8-8230-0859-4 (e)
 
 
 
 
Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.
 
 
 
Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
CONTENTS
Chapter 1What The Hell
Chapter 2When Least Expected
Chapter 3Read Him His Rights
Chapter 4One for the books
Chapter 5Oh How They Suffer
Chapter 6Does the Lawyer Even Care
Chapter 7It’s a War Zone
Chapter 8Why Her of All People
Chapter 9Where Did That Come From
Chapter 10Thoughts and Explanations
Chapter 11Ever The Innocent
Chapter 12Does It Ever Ease Up
Chapter 13We can Adjust, I Guess
Chapter 14Begin Again, Shall We
Chapter 15A Time to Reflect
Chapter 16So, This is the Place
Chapter 17Change and Then More Change
Chapter 18Politics……Sonuva…….
Chapter 19Old Times, Good Friends and CAKE!
Chapter 20Where Do They Come From
Chapter 21Not a Good Idea Skip
Chapter 22But, How
Chapter 23What the……..
Chapter 24There’s Always Something
Chapter 25Was It Fate or Chance
Chapter 26Even the Pain May Help
Chapter 27Damn Thoughts and Memories
Chapter 28West, Then Barclay Streets
Chapter 29Bad News and Good News
Chapter 30More Changes
Chapter 31Oh, oh, What Next
Chapter 32Live Your Life
Chapter 33Who Is In Charge
Chapter 34What’s a Brother For
Chapter 35Seems Like a Plan
Chapter 36Long Ago and So Very Far Away
Chapter 37How Very Stupid
Chapter 38Well, Seems Like a Good Start
Chapter 39It’s a Political Thing
Chapter 40You And Me And………
Chapter 41Nice To Be Appreciated
Chapter 42O’Malley, O’Malley

Dedicated to an
Angel in Heaven,
My Wife,
Jeanette Marie Kane Belcastro
CHAPTER 1
WHAT THE HELL
Raptly they stared at the television screen. Mike was stunned and Nick was shaking his head in an agitated manner. He was unable to believe what he was seeing.
The movement of Nick’s head sent minor spasms of pain through his damaged shoulder, but so intent was he on the televisions broadcast, that he barely felt it.
Maeve had gone to get her laptop computer and returned almost immediately with it.
Her expression was also one of disbelief.
“Look at the expression on that bastard’s face.” Nick said. “He knows what he’s doing. That Sonuva bitch is guilty. That’s the kind of shit that makes our job so freakin’ hard.”
“Why?” was Mike’s only response.
“There’s gonna be a whole lot of deep shit over this.” Nick replied.
“We are going to get this crap shoved down our throats Mike. You mark my words. We are in for it.”
Mike glanced sideways at his friend. He nodded, but did not reply.
The News Announcer stared straight ahead, unflinchingly, at the cameras.
“Former Minneapolis police officers, Derek Chauvin, Tou Thao, Thomas Lane, and J. Alexander Kueng have been arrested and booked into Hennepin County jail, in Minnesota for the death of George Floyd.” He said, keeping his voice level and somewhat stiff.
“Good thing for them that I’m not on that Jury.” Mike said softly, holding his breath until he had finished his sentence, “I’m voting guilty, as charged.”
Maeve nodded in agreement, but Nick had not heard him. Nick was busy calling his precinct. He knew that they were aware of the circumstances, but they had to hear the summary from him.
His warning of but moments ago lit itself up in his mind. A shit storm was coming, for all of America’s cities, especially New York.
“Wow, just think about it, Nick thought aloud, “Another example of police brutality plus all those people out of work because of the damn Corona virus. It doesn’t matter how many lives you might save, or how many lost kids you find, all they’re gonna see is that bastard kneeling on an innocent man’s neck and killing him. Why did they arrest Floyd anyway?”
“Something about a counterfeit twenty dollar bill.” Mike answered, hoarsely.
“What?” Maeve said from across the room, “I had one about a year ago, in the supermarket. They picked it up on one of those scanners. We were able to trace it back to the bank and they found a lot more there, as well as any number that they had already given out.
“Poor old Mrs. Gilbride lost her job over that. She was seventy one years old and had eyesight problems anyway.”
“Manhattan will bear the brunt of this, “Mike surmised astutely, “But I can’t help thinking that the whole City is in for some tough times. I wonder what the Mayor’s gonna do.
“I’m gonna call Beymon. I’m sure the Brass is already hunkering down, but it won’t hurt to try and be proactive.”
Nick didn’t hear him. Nick was too busy remembering that gathering where his ribs had been cracked by that nut-job’s bullet. He wondered if the National and State Governments weren’t also getting ready for what was surely coming.
With all the attention already being drawn to the Covid virus, would they even realize what they might be in for?
“So now the mayor wants to defund the Police Department.” Chief Walt Agrarian was trying not to shout, but his irritated state of mind was all too evident by his gruff tone and very tense jaw line.
“I think we saw that coming Chief.” Ron Beymon said firmly, hoping to allay the angry Police Chief if only slightly.
“The minute that that asshole knelt on that poor man’s neck, the writing was on the wall.” Beymon finished.
I’ve tried my damndest to clean up this department’s attitude,” Agrarian complained, “If only I could get some cooperation, ah, present company excluded of course.”
Everyone in the room nodded. Captain Gerald “Gerry” Nathan, a precinct commander from Brooklyn, wondered aloud, “Doesn’t His Honor see the ramifications of such a move? Can’t he see the loss of service involved?”
Garret Holmes, an African-American civilian advisor, attached to the Police Department by the Mayor, spoke up.
“He isn’t seeing that at this time, ladies and gentlemen. He is only trying to placate Liberals, both Blacks and Whites. He hopes such an action will garner him votes, for either the Governorship or quite possibly, the Presidency.”
“Don’t you work for him?” Agrarian asked, unable to keep the slight edge of derision from his voice.
“Yea, I guess you can say I’m serving with this police department at the Mayor’s discretion, so to speak, but I don’t always agree with him. If I wasn’t black, he might have booted me out long ago. He displays me like an example of his liberalness. But, do not misunderstand. I am anything but a liberal.
“Certain liberal policies are beneficial to the population at large. Some are not.
“There’s a certain mixture of both liberal and conservative policies which would be very beneficial to this City, this State and even this Country, if enacted. Of course, none of that takes into play that politicians are running the show, and doing rather badly at that.
“Uh, you didn’t hear that from me.” Holmes added with a slight cough.
“I’m gonna sign off now.” Agrarian sighed, “I gotta go get my ass chewed by the Commissioner. I’m guessing that the both of us may be on our way out.”
The computer screen on Natalie’s credenza went blank.
“We’ll talk about this later.” Beymon announced. “Right now I need a break.”
He went into his office and closed the door.
The three precinct commanders who had witnessed the conversation left too.
Mike and Colleen went back to their shared office, with bathroom stops along the way. Jim O’Leary stayed with Natalie.
With a dusty piece of chalk, Beymon started to write upon a green board in his office.
“Results from defunding police.” He wrote at the top and drew a line beneath it. After the number, one, he wrote, “Removes funding from Rape Victims.”
After looking at it for several seconds he nodded and wrote the numeral two, followed immediately by, “Removes funding from victims of Domestic Violence.” After three he wrote, “Takes away resources from human trafficking.”
Beneath that he wrote the word, “Children!” and drew two lines beneath the word.
“Who suffers?” he asked himself sadly as he tossed the chalk up and down several times. “Victims, naturally.” Having answered his own question he shook his head ruefully.
A knock at his door brought his attention to the doorway.
“Yes?” he called out.
The door opened and Garret Holmes stood there frowning.
“A minute of your time Chief?” Holmes asked, and then added, “Please.”
Beymon nodded and motioned for him to enter.
With a slight smile, which quickly evaporated, Holmes said, “I heard you had the best coffee.”
Beymon pointed to the coffee maker and said gruffly, “Help yourself. If you don’t want to trust the efficiency of our cleanliness, there are paper cups in the credenza as well as plastic lids.”
As he made his coffee, in a paper cup, Holmes gazed at the green board. He shook h

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