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Detective Young 2.2 11-6-2008

Brooklyn Heights - 11:24 AM
 
 
"Inspector Jenkins?" Young called out as he approached the elderly man leaning against the Promenade railing with his fishing rod. He couldn't be sure that it was him. Antonacci hadn't really described him, but seeing as no one had answered the phone when Serena had called Jenkins' home, he had to guess that this was the man he was looking for.
 
The man turned his head to watch Young and Brighton strolling up to him. "That'd be me," he replied non-chalantly.
 
Young was close enough now to really get a good look at Jenkins. He had to be pushing seventy. He knew Jack Antonacci was in his mid-fifties, and he himself had aged rapidly in recent years to the point of looking ten years older. Jenkins looked as though he'd seen his fair share of tough years on the job. He was lean, almost wiry. He wore a black Yankees windbreaker and a Mets ball cap. An odd combination in Young's opinion. Probably a switch-hitter fan, or as his father had liked to call them, "band waggoners".
 
"Detective James Young, my senior partner Detective Serena Brighton, 214 Homicide. Jack Antonacci said you might be able to help us."
 
Jenkins squinted a bit at Young for a moment. "Wait a second...Young? Are you Vince's kid?"
 
"Yes, sir."
 
"I thought so. I knew your old man. He was a helluva cop. I didn't know he had a kid on the force."
 
Young nodded. "He didn't until last week. I'm on the force at special dispensation from the commish. I'm on the police murder case."
 
Jenkins tilted his head. "Jack brought you in." It was a statement. Not a question.
 
Brighton spoke up. "The captain and I both felt he has enough of his father's flair to do some good. Not to mention he witnessed one of the killings."
 
Jenkins looked hard at Young. "Kid, I hope you know what you're getting into here, and I hope you're doing it for the right reasons."
 
"Excuse me?"
 
"Let me ask you something, Detective. Why did you agree to take the job and the case?"
 
Young didn't even have to think about it. "Because I don't want what happened to me to happen to anyone else. The night my dad went down...it still seems like it was just yesterday. Nothing ever takes that feeling away from you. Just knowing that someone out there took something precious to you and robbed you of it forever. It's enough to do two things to you: either it'll make you crazy with vengeance, or it'll make you act preventatively. Believe you me, I don't want this son of a bitch to get any farther than he has already."
 
Jenkins nodded slowly and grinned. He raised his hand and made a sign of the cross at Young. "I think you are a cop, my son."
 
Young returned the grin. "Alec Baldwin, The Departed."
 
Jenkins chuckled. "Not bad for a Boston story. So, you said you needed something from me?"
 
"We have a lead. Captain Antonacci said you might be able to fill us in on who's heading up the League of Sentinels these days," said Serena.
 
Jenkins looked between the two detectives curiously. "The Sentinels? You think they've got something to do with this?"
 
"All the ones that have bought it so far were in the League. Adam Bartowsky was the Chief until '98, but we don't have record of who took his place after that. And it's not exactly like we can ask him ourselves," Young explained. 
 
"Well, you wouldn't really, now would you?" Jenkins mused. "They're not exactly Skull and Bones material, but they do tend to keep things to themselves."
 
Young quirked his mouth. "What do you mean?"
 
Jenkins sighed lightly, "Well, they haven't been anything for anybody to fear for a long time now. In the old days, they might try tuning up somebody who didn't want to pay for their protection. And believe me, they did. But anymore they're just sitting around, twiddling their thumbs. For a while people on the force though they might have a new surge of membership after the first Twin Tower bombing, and then when 9-11 hit. But it never brought them back to the limelight."
 
This piqued Young's curiosity. "What did they expect even if they had gotten a lot of recruits? Off-duty vigilantism?"
 
"Something like that. Everybody figured they wanted to be ready in case the towel-heads tried for the Empire State Building. But, like I said, it never happened."
 
Young rubbed his chin. "So why are they getting offed now? There really isn't a fucking thing in it for anybody."
 
Serena's cell phone tweeted its ring tone and she turned away for a moment to answer.
 
Jenkins continued, "Who knows? Anyway, I'm pretty positive that Danny Weston is Chief of Sentinels now. He heads up the Staten Island Special Victims Unit."
 
Brighton snapped her phone shut behind them. "We gotta go, James."
 
 
Latourette Golf Course, Staten Island - 12:14 PM
 
Young flashed his shield to the cop standing guard the crime scene tape, who waved him and Serena on through into the locker room. When he turned the corner, he stopped dead in his tracks at what he saw.
 
The Staten Island detective standing over the body turned and saw him. "You must be Young and Brighton. Virgil Rhodes, Staten Island Homicide. Took you a while to get here."
 
Serena spoke from behind James, "The Verrazano-Narrows was packed. What do you have?"
 
Rhodes looked back at the body. "Captain Daniel Weston. Head of SI-SVU."
 
James let out a breath of anguish and moved forward and crouched to look at the body.
 
Weston's throat had been slit pretty deeply, so deeply that the only bit of his golf sweater that was still white was the cuff of his right sleeve. Young was starting to boil under his collar. Through gritted teeth he asked, "Is there any surveillance in this building?"
 
"Tech's already on it."
 
Young got up and walked past Serena for the door. He was almost out of their sight when he just couldn't hold it in any more.
 
In a flurry, his fist lanced out and nailed the locker on his left. "GODDAMMIT!"
 
Once outside the locker room he took a second to think about what the next step ought to be. He felt a hand on his shoulder and he wheeled around irritably to see Brighton.
 
She looked at him hard. "What's wrong with you?"
 
"What's wrong with me?! That was about the only solid lead that we had, and it just got shot to shit! Weston was Chief of Sentinels! If what Jenkins told us is true, we might not get another shot at getting to the higher-ups of the League!" He happened to look up to see the Crime Scene Technicians all staring at him and his outburst.
 
"What is this?! A break for 'Days of Our Lives'?!"
 
The CSTs hurriedly went back to their duties and Young turned back to Brighton, lowering his voice. "What's wrong is I don't have a fucking clue where to go next. If we're lucky, then a Sentinel might come forward and talk to us. But it's like Jenkins said. They're not publishing their identities in the Times. The only other option that I can see is if we have Internal Affairs step in and begin an inquiry. But that might not get us anywhere either."
 
Brighton looked at her feet for a moment, then back into Young's eyes. "So, what do you want to do next?"
 
Young sighed and thought for a moment. "I need to ask someone for advice. Come on, I need you to get me to NYU."
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