Gonna Getcha
Joshua Harbinger had been in the Federal Bureau of Investigations for the last eight years of his life. He had graduated from Harvard in the top of his class at the age of nineteen and had been recruited by the Bureau straight out of college. His plan had been to go to Harvard Law, but after talking to the Bureau’s recruiter midway through his senior year, he caught the FBI bug.
Josh, as he was mostly called, had for the most part lived a very sheltered life. His father was the United States ambassador to Australia, and his mother was a former United States attorney, and she was also a former White House counsel. Josh grew up around privilege and power. He also grew up around money, lots of it. His maternal grandfather was a former international commodities trader who later became a United States senator, while his father’s father was the founder of a very successful Wall Street brokerage. Josh was the product of the Andover prep school and had been groomed to go to Harvard Law so he could take over the family business. He, however, craved excitement and danger.
His first years in the Bureau were spent chasing low-level counterfeiters and investigating missing children cases. Eventually, after plenty of wild and loose but lucky stunts, he worked his way up the ladder and built a reputation as a maverick who would get the job done. His reputation won him a transfer to New York to work on the high-profile organized crime leaders and the New York Mafia families. Once they had been pretty much broken up, he was transferred to Philadelphia, where he was biding his time until he made deputy special agent in charge. He wouldn’t be content until he was in charge of his own major field office. He had been told that his promotion was in the works. The actual words were more along the lines of “It’s basically being a done deal.” All he had to do was sit tight. He, on the other hand, had other plans.
Josh knocked on the door of his boss’s office. His boss was none other than Special Agent in Charge Rudy Galvani. Galvani was a no-nonsense FBI agent through and through. Born in the Bensonhurst section of Brooklyn, Galvani had been raised on the mean streets of New York. He had watched his older brother, two uncles, and several of his cousins fall victim to gang and drug violence. It was after the funeral of his cousin Manuel that he promised his mother he would keep his shit clean, and he did. As a youngster, Galvani stuck his nose into his books, and for extracurricular activities, he played football and basketball and ran track. He was something of a high-school football star. He had led his traditionally horrid football team to a ten and three season, losing in the playoffs after meeting what was destined to be the state’s high-school football champions that year. So the team held its head up high, and Galvani, the star running back, was the pride of his community.
Academics took Galvani to Harvard on a scholarship. He was the first person in his family to go to college and he did it in a major way. Harvard Law followed graduation, and then an internship to a Supreme Court justice. A short stint with the Justice Department and a change of administrations found him transferring over to the Bureau. That was fifteen years ago, and now he was in charge of his own major field office. He was known in law enforcement circles as “The Hammer.” He would bust his own mother if he found her doing something illegal. His reputation for being an asshole was actually something that he was proud of. He gave no quarter, and he expected none in return. That was why his relationship with Josh was a curious one. Josh was Mr. Cut Corners, while Galvani was Mr. Straight and Narrow. How they even got along was a mystery to everyone in the Bureau. Agents in the office had taken to calling them oil and water. They simply did not mix.
“In!” Galvani shouted.
Josh pushed open the door and stepped inside. “Hey, boss man!”
Galvani nodded toward the chair in front of his desk. “Have a seat.”
Josh seated himself and started digging through the jar of candy on his boss’s desk.
“I got your report, Josh,” Galvani told him. “Do you really want to open up this can of worms? It’s going to cause a shitstorm.”
Josh shrugged. “I don’t care. This Cleaver guy is dirty, dirtier than a prostitute’s panties on a busy Saturday night.”
Galvani nodded.
“He’s the cancer,” Josh continued. “He’s rotten at the core. He’s spreading his corruption throughout the department.”
“You can’t go after this guy with nothing more than a hunch.”
“I have more than a hunch, sir. He’s dirty, sir. Also, I had a peek into his file.”
Galvani leaned back in his chair. “You looked into his file? How did you get access to an Internal Affairs detective’s file?”
“I have this friend who works for…”
Galvani lifted his hand silencing him. He didn’t want to know. That way if the shit hit the fan, he could say he didn’t know and at least that would be the truth.
“Sir, something’s off, just hear me out. Cornell Cleaver has been reassigned, investigated, reprimanded, and transferred more than any officer in the history of the department. Someone just keeps sweeping his shit under the rug. That tells me that he’s probably got someone higher up looking out for him, probably just as corrupt.”
Galvani shook his head. “Keep it focused, Josh. Don’t worry about any higher-ups. We’ll just keep them out of the loop on this one. So, how do you plan on pursuing this one?”
“I don’t think going undercover is necessary.”
“You want me to get you assigned to a case with this guy?”
Josh nodded. “That would be great, sir. If you could do that, I could bring this asshole down. But in the meantime, I want to do a little snooping around. I noticed that he associates only with certain officers and only one from Internal Affairs. The others are from various other departments and precincts.”
“And?”
“Well, it’s weird, sir. These Internal Affairs guys are pariahs. No one wants to hang with the guy charged with investigating them and possibly getting them fired or sent to prison. Yet, there’s a whole clique that he is rumored to be tight with, and they’re all detectives. These Internal Affairs guys usually hang together, because nobody else wants to hang with them.”
“Be careful on this one, Josh. No wild and loose stunts.”
Josh smiled. “I wouldn’t think of it.”
“I want to be kept in the loop, too. I want to know what you’re up to at all times.”
Josh nodded. “Will do. I’m just going to do a little snooping around and see what I can come up with.”
Galvani nodded. “Good luck and happy hunting.”
Josh rose. “I’m going to bag this crooked bastard and everybody down with him. You can bet your ass on this.”
Galvani nodded, and Josh exited the room.
It must have taken Gena three hours before she caught a cab. She realized she was definitely in the suburbs. The neighborhood was nothing but grass, trees, and monstrous million-dollar homes. I’ll never get a cab out here. Tired, hungry and still not 100 percent, she felt weak and faint standing on her feet. Every few minutes she would stop and rest by sitting on the curb or leaning against parked cars. Finally, she saw a cab heading up the street toward her. Thank God it stopped.
“Where to, lady?”
For a few seconds Gena didn’t know where she was going. She thought quickly and then gave the cabbie instructions. Gena had the cab drop her off at the corner of her old block, at Fifty-second and Chancellor Street. She wished she still had her old apartment, but wishing would get her nowhere. Had she not moved in with Quadir, her uncle Michael would still be renting the place for her. She walked down the block unnoticed and up the steps to Markita’s door. She rang the bell and waited.