Ambush

Chapter 36

I finally decided that if I wanted to understand murders associated with the drug trade, I needed to understand the drug trade a little better. My best contact in the NYPD narcotics unit was a sergeant stationed right in my building.

Sergeant Tim Marcia was a few years older than I was, and no one would mistake him for anything but a cop. At six one and beefy, he’d kept the same mustache since the mid-1990s. He was about as straight a shooter as anyone would ever meet, and he understood the drug world better than anyone else.

I sat in the passenger seat of his seized Range Rover. The narcotics unit often used cars it seized from drug dealers to conduct surveillance or undercover operations.

We drove up into the Bronx so Sergeant Marcia could talk to a couple of his informants. He treated them more like he was a big brother or mentor than a cop. I liked that.

Near Yankee Stadium, I sat in the Range Rover while he chatted with a young Puerto Rican man just outside the SUV.

Sergeant Marcia said, “You sure that’s it? You haven’t heard any other rumors?”

The thin young man shook his head and mumbled, “No. Nothing at all.”

Sergeant Marcia put a playful headlock on the young man, then said, “Don’t be late for class. And don’t make your mother worry about you tonight. Be home by ten.”

The young man smiled and waved as he walked off.

When Sergeant Marcia slipped back into the car, I said, “That’s not exactly how the movies portray your job.”

“Everyone has his own style. I never pretended to be Popeye Doyle from The French Connection. I would rather fix a few lives while making a case than run a big operation that disrupts an entire neighborhood.”

“I couldn’t agree more. What did your young friend have to say?”

“He says there’s been a disruption of the synthetic drug market. Everyone was making a fortune on ecstasy and meth, and now they’re back to selling pot and coke. My snitch says there’s been some Canadians trying to dump extra meth on the market, but the Mexican cartel has told people to steer clear.”

I said, “Sounds like my son Brian got the straight scoop.” I wouldn’t have chosen these circumstances, but I’d been grateful to see Brian in the Buffalo hospital at least twice a week.

Sergeant Marcia said, “I don’t want to admit that a Homicide puke came up with an explanation for what’s going on in the narcotics trade. This is embarrassing.”

“You help me find this killer, and I’ll never tell a soul.”

Sergeant Marcia laughed. “We go back too far. I have too much on you. You won’t tell a soul no matter what happens.”

“But you’ll help me just the same?”

“I’m insulted you even have to ask. We’ll figure this out, and I’ll write an official report saying that we got the original information from Brian. Maybe we can use that as a way of showing the court how much he’s cooperated. Who knows? Maybe we can cut that crazy sentence down a little bit.”

That was the mark of a true friend.

Sergeant Marcia said, “Synthetics are a part of the drug trade I don’t have a lot to do with. All my experience is with heroin and cocaine. I can predict what those users and dealers will act like. The synthetic drugs like ecstasy attract a new kind of seller and affect all users differently. I knew the Canadians were heavily involved in that market, but they tend to stay under the radar, and we haven’t made any serious arrests.

“It’s just semantics when we’re talking about drugs. People are going to use them whether they’re in the form of prescription pills or black tar heroin. Sometimes I feel like we should just legalize all drugs and take the consequences.”

“What kind of consequences?”

“A surge in overdose deaths. A much higher percentage of the population that doesn’t contribute anything to society. A bunch of drug dealers looking for a different crime they can commit because the government has taken over their jobs. Who could tell what would happen? I don’t even like to think about it.”

Listening to the narcotics sergeant, I remembered an old-timer in Vice talking about how the Dutch handled some of their crime problems. He had said, “The Dutch had a problem with prostitution, so they legalized it. Then they had a problem with drugs, so they legalized them. Let’s hope they never have a problem with homicide.”