Free Depraved Indifference by Robert K. Tanenbaum Page A

his first big case.
    Karp soon discovered that the spirit of communication did not enliven the offices of the FBI. Pillman’s secretary, a squat and tough-faced federal-issue blonde, informed him that Mr. Pillman was in emergency meetings all day and couldn’t be disturbed.
    â€œI’m here about the hijacking. Mr. Pillman is expecting me. Karp, DA’s office.”
    She looked dubious. “The DA’s office is in with him now.”
    â€œWhat! Who?”
    She consulted her desk calendar. “A Mr. Lucca, it says here.”
    Karp placed his large knuckles on her desk and leaned over her. “OK, Mrs. ah … Finelli,” he said, picking her name off the black plastic plate on her desk, “as far as I know, I’m representing the DA’s office in this case. You got somebody else in there says the same thing, it means I got to call my boss and involve Mr. Pillman’s boss and maybe the assistant AG, too. It could have to go to Washington, I don’t know. So maybe we could clear up the whole thing in about ten minutes and avoid all that. What d’you say?” He smiled brightly.
    Washington was the magic word. A minute later Karp was standing in Elmer Pillman’s bright corner office, looking at Pillman’s froggy scowl. There was another man in the room, who stood and shook hands with Karp. He was thin and wore a rumpled brownish suit and one of those polyester ties that sports two unrelated patches of plaid. He nervously introduced himself as Jerry Lucca, from the Bronx DA’s office.
    Pillman leaned back in his government swivel chair and said magisterially, “Mr. Karp, Jerry and I were just saying that since the hijacking was a federal case and your policeman was actually killed in the Bronx, we would coordinate the investigation, with the Bronx DA picking up the local charges. I assume that’s agreeable to you?”
    â€œNo, it isn’t,” Karp replied, pleasantly enough. “Obviously, we’d like to work as closely as we can with the Bureau. But we intend to bring the murder case against the hijackers in New York County. Moreover, we’ve made arrangements with the police department to coordinate all investigations and evidence through my office. And no other,” he concluded with a sharp glance at Lucca.
    â€œWait a minute,” Lucca said, flushing and attempting a conciliatory grin, “we can work this out. First of all, we have the murder site in our jurisdiction. That counts for something. And two—”
    â€œThat don’t count for shit, Jerry,” Karp interrupted. “And we don’t have anything to work out because it’s already been worked out. It’s my case. You don’t believe me, ask Moroni. He doesn’t believe it, tell him to call the C. of D.”
    This casual mention of two godlike beings, the Bronx DA and the chief of detectives, took the wind out of the young man’s sails. Something was going on that he didn’t understand. He understood he was here on Moroni’s orders. Pillman had seemed willing to work with him. He was excited by the possibility of handling the action on a potentially big murder case. Now this guy Karp comes and makes him look like a jerk. Unless he was bluffing … He looked at Pillman, who was examining the way the smoke from his cigar curled against the ceiling. Karp continued to regard Lucca with bland indulgence. He did not look like a bluffer.
    â€œI guess I better check with uptown and straighten all this out,” he mumbled, standing.
    Karp smiled benignly. “You do that, Jerry.” Lucca shook hands sincerely all around and scooted out.
    Pillman did not like this development at all. He would have loved a green kid tying up the local end while he himself controlled the case. Also, wrangles among local jurisdictions made the Bureau look good by comparison. He decided, as he always did, that the best defense was an