Why Me?

13

Jack Mackenzie got along so well with the cops because they all thought he was Irish. His ancestry was, in fact, Scottish, a shameful secret wild horses couldn't have dragged out of him.

Being a police reporter for a large metropolitan TV station, it was a good thing Mackenzie was so tight with the men in blue—otherwise, he wouldn't have kept the job very long. But the cops knew good old Jack would always get their names right, would put them on camera if at all possible, would always believe their version of how the suspect fell off the roof, and would never twit them for their occasional inevitable failures. And that's why, when Chief Inspector Francis Xavier Mologna (which Jack Mackenzie always pronounced Maloney) decided to go public with this Byzantine Fire problem, it was red-haired, freckle-faced, jovial, hard-drinking, pseudo-Irish Jack Mackenzie who got the nod for the exclusive interview.

The meeting took place in a conference room at Headquarters, down several flights from Mologna's own office. With its indirect lighting, serious-looking desk, and windowless walls thoroughly diapered in sound-absorbing Virgin-Mary-blue drapes, this room had been designed for television. If a police spokesman stood behind that desk, in front of those drapes, holding up an old.22 rifle while announcing that the arrest of those four college sophomores had just narrowly averted the overthrow of the Republic, you believed him.

The meeting was scheduled at four o'clock, just early enough to make the opening segment of the six o'clock news. (The rest of the press would get the story a bit later, also in time for the six o'clock news, but not till the end of the program rather than the beginning. Friendship is a wonderful thing.) Mackenzie arrived a bit early accompanied by his three-man crew (one operated the camera, one ran the sound equipment, and the union wouldn't tell anybody what the third man did), and he joshed with the officer on guard in the hallway while his boys set up their equipment and checked light levels over every square inch of the room.

Mologna himself, in a uniform so rich with braid that he looked like an ocean liner at night, emerged from the elevator down the hall at three minutes past four, accompanied by his secretary, Sergeant Leon Windrift, and two anonymous plainclothes detectives carrying folders full of handouts and statistics. Mologna and Mackenzie met in the hall and shook hands, beaming with approval on one another. "Good to see you, Jack," said Mologna.

"How are you, Chief Inspector? You're looking fine. Lost a couple pounds, didn't you?"

In fact, Mologna had gained a few pounds. His smile even broader and happier than before, he patted his beer belly—thup, thup—and said, "Hard to keep in fightin trim, stuck to that desk every day."

"Well, you're looking fine," Mackenzie repeated, which was about as far as he could take such nonsense.

The two went on into the conference room, followed by Mologna's minions, and Mackenzie's crew put out their cigarettes and prepared to go to work. Since this was to be an interview rather than a press conference—that was scheduled at four-thirty, in this same room—Mologna sat at the desk rather than stand behind it (his beer belly hardly showed at all), while Mackenzie took the chair to the right of the desk. More light level readings were taken, and then the sound man asked them to just talk to one another while he took sound levels. Both participants were old hands at this and chatted about baseball—the new season just getting under way down there in Florida, if Mackenzie were a sports reporter he could be down there now in the warm, etc., etc. — until the sound man told them they could stop the drivel. Then they settled down to the business at hand.

Mackenzie: "Maybe you better give me my lead-in question. I'm not sure exactly what you want to announce here."

Mologna: "I want to announce progress on this fuckin ruby ring. Why not tell me you understand I'm in charge and how'm I doin?"

Mackenzie: "Okay, fine. Chief Inspector Mologna, you've been placed in charge of the investigation into last night's theft of the Byzantine Fire. Do you have any progress to report?"

Mologna: "Well, yes and no, Jack. We have the bunch that pulled the job out at Kennedy International Airport, but unfortunately we don't as yet have the ring."

Mackenzie: "But arrests have been made?"

Mologna: "Definitely. We've held back the announcement, hopin to finish the case. The alleged perpetrators are aliens, apparently involved in the current troubles in Cyprus. We nabbed all four this mornin."

Mackenzie: "So the theft of the Byzantine Fire was a political act."

Mologna (chuckles): "Well, Jack, that may be the way they look at it. I'm a simple New York cop, and to me a holdup is a holdup."

Mackenzie: "So these people will be tried like any common criminal."

Mologna: "That's up to the courts, Jack."

Mackenzie: "Yes, of course. Chief Inspector, if you are satisfied you have in fact apprehended the criminals, why is it the Byzantine Fire is still missing?"

Mologna: "Well, Jack, that's the reason I want to make a direct appeal to the public. The fact is, and this is why we've made no announcement till now, the ring was stolen twice."

Mackenzie: "Twice?"

Mologna: "That's right, Jack. The original perpetrators intended to smuggle the ring out of the country, and in connection with their plans they left it in a jeweler's shop on Rockaway Boulevard in the South Ozone Park section of Queens."

Mackenzie: "Off the tape here, do you have a color photo of this store? Otherwise I'll have to phone our people to get out there right away."

Mologna: "Now, Jack, you know I take care of you. Turnbull here has everythin you need."

Mackenzie: "Great. Back on the tape. Chief Inspector, you say the ring was left in a jeweler's shop?"

Mologna: "That's right, Jack. Due to some very good police work—and I want to say that the Federal Bureau of Investigation was very helpful in this part of the case—we'd rounded up the entire gang well before sunup this mornin. Unfortunately, durin that time the jeweler's shop underwent an entirely unconnected burglary. Some thief, as yet unapprehended, took away the Byzantine Fire along with the rest of his loot from the store. This is the man we are now lookin for."

Mackenzie: "Chief Inspector, do you mean to say that some minor-league crook in this city is now in possession of the multi-million-dollar Byzantine Fire?"

Mologna: "That's precisely the case, Jack."

Mackenzie: "Chief Inspector, may I ask what is being done?"

Mologna: "Everythin is bein done, Jack. Since the discovery of the burglary, I have put into effect an order to question every known criminal in the city of New York."

Mackenzie: "A pretty large order, Chief Inspector."

Mologna: "We're devotin our full resources to the job, Jack." (Out of camera range, Sergeant Leon Windrift slid a piece of paper onto the desk in front of Mologna, who did not blatantly look at it.) "As of three o'clock this afternoon, in all five boroughs of this city, seventeen thousand, three hundred and fifty-four individuals have been picked up for questionin. The result so far of this blitz has been six hundred and ninety-one arrests for crimes and offenses unrelated to the disappearance of the Byzantine Fire."

Mackenzie: "Chief Inspector, are you saying that so far today six hundred ninety-one unsolved crimes have been solved?"

Mologna: "That's up to the courts, Jack. All I can tell you is, we're satisfied with the results up till now."

Mackenzie: "So, no matter what else happens, today's police blitz has been a definite plus from the point of view of the honest citizens of New York."

Mologna: "I'd say so, Jack. But now we'd like to ask those honest citizens to give us their assistance." (turning directly to camera) "The Byzantine Fire is a very valuable ruby ring, but it's more than that. As Americans, we were makin a gift of that ruby ring, all of us, to a friendly nation. As New Yorkers, I think we all feel a little ashamed that this has happened in our fair city. I am showin you a picture of the Byzantine Fire. If you have seen this ring, or if you have any information at all that could be helpful in this investigation, please call the special police number you now see on your screen." (turns back to Mackenzie)

Mackenzie: "And in the meantime, Chief Inspector, the police blitz will continue?"

Mologna: "Absolutely, Jack."

Mackenzie: "Until the Byzantine Fire is found."

Mologna: "Jack, the criminal element in the city of New York will learn to regret the very existence of the Byzantine Fire."

Mackenzie: "Thank you very much, Chief Inspector Francis Mologna."

That ended the interview. Mackenzie and Mologna shook hands once more and exchanged a few words while Mackenzie's crew packed up. Then Mologna resat behind the desk to await the rest of the press—due now to arrive in about ten minutes—while Mackenzie hurried back to the TV station, there to pose against another Virgin-Mary-blue drape for reaction shots and a lead-in explanation of the story and better-organized phrasing of a couple of his questions. These shots were mixed with portions of the interview tape, plus a nice clear color photo of the facade of Skoukakis Credit Jewelers, plus another nice clear color photo of the Byzantine Fire on a background of black velvet, plus a superimposition of the special police number (which would be dialed by a lot of giggling 12-year-olds), and the whole thing was ready just in time for the six o'clock news.

A very attractive little scoop.