Flanagan’s Family

Vito Belcastro

Description

Within that building, Michael McGinty, a Catholic priest and a New York City Police chaplain stood stolidly amidst a group of soon to be NYPD Academy graduates. He was holding court, as he liked to call it. Although the actual Academy was located in Queens Borough, for some reason a police official had decided to have the graduation in Manhattan.

Sujets

• Fiction

Informations

• Publié par: AuthorHouse
• Date de parution: 25 avril 2023
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9798823005791
• Langue: English

Extrait

FLANAGAN’S FAMILY
 
PART 1
 
 
 
VITO BELCASTRO
 
 
 

AuthorHouse™
1663 Liberty Drive
Bloomington, IN 47403
www.authorhouse.com
Phone: [phone]
 
 
 
 
 
 
© 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 04/10/2023
 
ISBN: 979-8-8230-0580-7 (sc)
ISBN: 979-8-8230-0578-4 (hc)
ISBN: 979-8-8230-0579-1 (e)
 
Library of Congress Control Number: 2023906765
 
 
 
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 1 AND SO IT BEGINS
CHAPTER 2 A TRANSITION
CHAPTER 3 THINGS DO CHANGE
CHAPTER 4 LET’S START AGAIN
CHAPTER 5 HOMEWARD, DRIVER
CHAPTER 6 A NEW JOB
CHAPTER 7 THINGS GET ROUGH
CHAPTER 8 PATROLLING THE BRONX
CHAPTER 9 LESSONS LEARNED
CHAPTER 10 THE LADY KNOWS A THING OR TWO
CHAPTER 11 WELCOME HOME SIS
CHAPTER 12 WHO AM I KIDDING
CHAPTER 13 THE ROLLER COASTER
CHAPTER 14 LIKE A NIGHTINGALE
CHAPTER 15 BOOZE WON’T SOLVE ANYTHING
CHAPTER 16 YOU LOSE, YOU WIN
CHAPTER 17 SHINING MOMENTS
CHAPTER 18 WHAT AN ABRUPT CHANGE
CHAPTER 19 IT CAN GET VERY HOT
CHAPTER 20 THE LADY HAS A TEMPER
CHAPTER 21 NOT AT ALL GOOD
CHAPTER 22 REVELATIONS AND ACTION
CHAPTER 23 TWO TROUBLED WOMEN
CHAPTER 24 CHOPPERS, FREAKS AND A VIRUS
CHAPTER 25 BAD THINGS HAPPEN IN THE SPRING TOO
CHAPTER 26 CRIME AND REASSIGNMENT
CHAPTER 27 A NEW GUN IN TOWN
CHAPTER 28 A CHANGE OF SCENERY
CHAPTER 29 THINGS KEEP JUST CHANGING
CHAPTER 30 THERE ARE ALWAYS RAMIFICATIONS
CHAPTER 31 PROGRESS
CHAPTER 32 GOOD NEWS, FINALLY
CHAPTER 33 A TURN FOR THE WORSE
CHAPTER 34 YET ANOTHER HERO
CHAPTER 35 DID NOT SEE THAT COMING
CHAPTER 36 RECRIMINATION
CHAPTER 37 REVELATIONS
CHAPTER 38 IT NEVER ENDS
CHAPTER 39 A NEW OPPORTUNITY
CHAPTER 40 SUBTERFUGE
CHAPTER 41 DAMN, THAT HURTS
I dedicate this book to the one person who has believed in me for all of my adult life, my wife Jeanette Marie Kane Belcastro, GOD rest her Soul.
CHAPTER 1 AND SO IT BEGINS
Intermittent shades of dark and light gray formed an intrusive cloud cover, hovering over Midtown on the island of Manhattan. It reached down to the mid-height buildings, allowing the peaks of taller buildings to poke out slightly above its billowing crest.
Occasional flashes of lightning just north of the City heralded an encroaching storm.
While not actually cold it was still a bit breezy.
A reasonably well built, New York City police captain clad in full dress blues, strode hastily towards one of those mid-level buildings as quickly as he could. His eyes were squinting and his brows were drawn down above them.
“Why didn’t I bring a raincoat?” he asked himself.
As yet, however, no rain was falling.
Within that building, Michael McGinty, a Catholic priest and a New York City police chaplain stood stolidly amidst a group of soon to be NYPD academy graduates. He was “holding court”, as he liked to call it. Although the actual academy was located in Queens Borough, for some reason a senior police official had decided to have the graduation in Manhattan.
The recruits were animated, asking any number of questions. Those he knew the answers to, he did answer. Those that escaped him he replied, “Uh, that’s classified, and for the present, uh, above your pay grade.” So far, none of them had caught on to his ruse.
Mike was just a shade beneath six feet tall and around one hundred and ninety pounds. He was healthy for his age, and as strong as anyone could be in his condition. He had recently quit smoking and felt much better, even though occasionally he still craved the cigarettes. He wore a dark suit with a black button less shirt and his clerical collar.
The group separated slightly as a police captain in full uniform walked through them. He was puffing on a cigarette, strictly forbidden by fire laws in this very public building, but no one stopped him, or even seemed to care. His name tag read, Evans, but he looked more Italian than Irish or Anglo-Saxon. His face was narrow which emphasized his Roman-Greco nose. Like McGinty he was husky, but not really fat.
“Nicky,” McGinty greeted, obviously happy to see him. “Welcome. I guess these are your boys now.
“Gentlemen, this is Captain Nick Evans. Some of, if not many of you might be reporting to him in one way or another.”
Nick was attached to the office of NYPD Chief of Patrol Dennis Meyer.
Most of the graduates snapped to attention, but not all of them. Captain Evans did not seem to notice. Two of them started coughing as Evans’ smoke encircled their heads.
“Oh, sorry,” Captain Evans apologized. “My wife keeps tellin’ me I gotta give them up.” He picked up a half empty, supposedly discarded coffee cup and dropped the still burning stub into the liquid. It made a solid hiss and was then silent. “Ya can’t smoke in the open down at One Police Plaza. And they’re a really bad habit that I’m havin’ trouble breakin.”
Sergeant Timothy Flynn, who worked for Evans and who had been drinking from that very cup, frowned. Chaplain McGinty could not suppress a smile.
“I can sympathize, Nicky;” McGinty replied, hoarsely. “The bishop was always on my butt about ’em. Uh, no pun intended. One time he caught me down in the basement at Saint Pats. Language like that should not come outta one of Rome’s princes, if ya get my drift?”
Nick nodded vigorously, a tear of laughter forming in his eye, which he blotted with his sleeve.
“Ya don’t have to tell me.” He related between chuckles, “I have been on the wrong end of one of his eminence’s tirades, myself. “Colorful” does not begin to describe it. I thought cops could really curse, but we ain’t got nuthin’ on the clergy.”
Grinning broadly, Father McGinty nodded his support. “Best thing I ever did,” he added, “Giving them up. You ain’t getting’ any younger pal. You should chuck the habit too.”
Evans nodded knowingly, emphasized by a slight cough. “Yer right Mikey.” He agreed, “I got no valid argument.
“You know as well as I do that it would make Maeve happy.” Nick pointed out.
Maeve was Nick’s wife.
“I know yer all gonna have a lotta questions over the next few days,” Captain Evans announced, “but for the moment, it’s time to catch a fresh breath.” He chuckled once more and added, “Especially after that butt I just threw out. There will be time for questions later. Go find your families and relax.”
Then to McGinty, he said, “Mike, wanna get some coffee?” As McGinty nodded a vigorous yes, one lingering recruit said, “Sir, pardon my asking, but you look more Italian than an Evans.”
Evans looked at the young man, from face to feet and back again.
The kid was just over six feet tall and looked somewhat muscular beneath his brand new uniform.
Nick wondered if the little shit was trying to curry favor.
Not wishing to put the kid off just before graduation, he said, “American government at work, Son. When my granddad came through Ellis Island, they couldn’t pronounce his name so they changed it to Evans.”
“Italian?” the recruit asked, seeming truly interested.
“Well,” Evans answered, “Yes and no.”
To the boy’s puzzled expression he explained, “He was Greco Sicilian, but almost pure Greek. The family name was Evanopolis. He was from Syracuse in the old country. Married another Greek, who was actually from the homeland, the first year he was here. They ended up in Astoria, up in Queens. That is one big Greek part of town.
“What’s your name, Son?” Evans asked.
“Uh, Davy, David, Sir, David Keith? If you’ll excuse me now Sir, I have to go meet my family, like, ah, you said, Sir.”
“Sure,” Evans agreed, “You go on ahead. Nice meeting you Keith. Here’s hopin’ you have a real future ahead of you.”
Something about the kid reminded Nick of someone but he couldn’t figure out whom. He noticed the same recognition in Father Mike’s eyes.
As the new recruit turned to leave, Captain Evans added, “And Keith, stay safe out on those streets, eh.”
Offhandedly saluting once more, and with a slightly confused half smile, David Keith took his leave.
Evans was chuckling. “I love sayin’ that,” he revealed, “Ever since that TV show.”
Captain Evans scratched his head. He was sure he had never met Keith, but something about the new recruit seemed familiar.
“Now,” Mike McGinty said, rubbing his hands together, “About that drink….”
“Coffee, Mike,” Evans reminded him plainly, “I said coffee.”
“Yea, coffee, that’s what I meant, coffee. Coffee’s a drink right?” McGinty replied just a little too quickly, with a soft red tinge to his deeply smiling features.
As they exited the building, Mike McGinty glanced to his left and saw David Keith being greeted by a very proud family.
“Sonuva…..” McGinty began;
But Evans finished the sentence with “….Bitch!”
“So my eyes ain’t playin’ tricks on me. You see him too.”
“Eddie Flanagan,” Evans intoned, softly, “I thought he was in Florida.”
“Yea,” McGinty added, “That’s what I heard. Now I remember. He had a daughter, Theresa. She m