Constablos On Patrol is a police story centering on a recently discharged U.S. Navy veteran of World War II who commences a career as a New York City police officer in 1946. An experienced, dedicated police captain, recognizing in this new officer those qualities which he believes justifies the term New York’s Finest attributed to the police force “adopts” the new recruit. The officer, exhibiting wisdom beyond his brief period of experience in the department, stumbles upon an arsonist in the act of torching a Chinese restaurant.  This shoot-out sets off a startling chain of events which culminates in murder and high-level police corruption.

Notwithstanding the status of the PCCIU, the office space occupied by the unit was hardly a facility that Callighan expected such a renowned organization would occupy. The private office of the 20th Precinct commanding officer was luxuriously furnished; the PCCIU resembled an abandoned warehouse, with desks and chairs beyond redemption.  Theodore Roosevelt, who served a team as the Police Commissioner of the City of New York prior to becoming the 26th President of the United States in 1901 would have been appalled at the run down condition of this building.

The outer office of the PCCIU consisted of a dilapidated desk and swivel chair occupied by Police Lieutenant Thomas Monahan, who in comparison to the seediness of his surroundings, was attired like an English lord, not in a police uniform, but in civilian clothes, well-tailored, and immaculate.  Looking up from the photo center section of the New York Daily News, he said to Callighan, “And, what do you want?”

“I’m Patrolman Dominick Callighan. I’m assigned to the 20th Precinct, there was a message for me to report to the PCCIU this morning,” and with just a small amount of sarcasm, Callighan added, “and here I am, Lieutenant.”

“Well, isn’t it thoughtful of you. Did you know you were supposed to be here at eight o’clock, its ten after nine, what did you do, walk down from the twentieth, and have a late breakfast in the meantime?” the lieutenant responded with obvious vindictiveness.

Callighan, suspecting that he was apparently going to have a bad day, for whatever reason that mystified him, decided to go on the defensive, and not expose his chin to any counter punches from this heavyweight.  “I’m sorry about being late, I thought I could get here faster by taking the patrol wagon down to headquarters as long as it was coming down with the prostitutes arrested last night, but we were tied up in some traffic…”  Callighan attempted to explain.

“How nice,” Lieutenant Monahan interrupted, “and am I correct in assuming that you entertained the young ladies in the back of the wagon on the way down?”

“No, lieutenant,” Callighan injected, “I rode up front with the patrol wagon operator. He can verify that there was no hanky-panky on my part.”

Lieutenant Monahan picked up his telephone from the desk and pressed a button, “That hot-shot from the twentieth is here chief, will I send him in?” Callighan was directed to take off his hat, which he had removed upon entering the building, and was escorted by the lieutenant to the office of Assistant Chief Inspector William Gaffney, the Commanding Officer of the PCCIU.  The attitude of the commanding officer was somewhat more moderate in comparison to that of Lieutenant Monahan, and he commenced by offering Callighan a cup of coffee, which the officer, suspecting that it was an attempt to possibly compromise him for some reason, declined.

“Callighan,” Chief Gaffney said in a soft voice, “I have been hearing some complimentary remarks concerning your work in uniform in the 20th Precinct.  How would you like to transfer to headquarters and be assigned to the Commissioner’s confidential squad?”

Callighan was aware that working at the PCCIU was a prized assignment, the key to financial rewards that far exceeded promotional opportunities in the department, and almost without exception the superior officers as well as the patrolmen assigned there, who were automatically promoted to the non-civil service rank of detective, with an increase in salary, had a hook, a Rabbi, someone with political clout in a position to engineer such an assignment by making a telephone call to the Commissioner, or as in some cases, a real heavyweight could fulfill the contract through the mayor.  Knowing that he had no hook, or Rabbi, or anyone with political clout, Callighan suspected that there was a hidden motive behind this offer, and responded, “I certainly appreciate the opportunity Chief; however, I’ve always believed that I’m cut out to be out on the pavement,” and suddenly recalling Captain Bill O’Donnell’s often-expressed philosophy, he continued, “I’ve always been intrigued by the concept that crime prevention is the primary element of effective law enforcement.  That’s what I would like to be part of during my career as a police officer. But, I thank you for your generous offer.”

Chief Gaffney was not only startled by the response to his offer but struck dumb as he stared at Callighan in amazement.  Lieutenant Monahan could not believe what he had heard, and his mouth opened wide, and remained open as he looked at this officer, obviously possessed of superior intelligence, refusing to accept an assignment that would be the envy of every other police officer in the department.

Finally, regaining his composure, Chief Gaffney asked Callighan, his voice not being as soft as when he first offered him an assignment with his unit, “Did Captain William O’Donnell have any discussion with you concerning your appearance here this morning?”

Answering truthfully, Callighan replied, “No sir, he didn’t.”

“Are you telling me that Captain O’Donnell was not aware that you were directed to come down to my office?”

Peter J. Keenan was born on 11 July 1922 in a tenement on the west side of Manhattan at 53rd street and Ninth Avenue, an area referred to as Hell’s Kitchen during the Roaring Twenties period that was later glamorized in the the Humphrey Bogart, James Cagney, and Edward G. Robbinson gangster movies. His early childhood years of development were on Tenth Avenue in < s t 1 : C i t y > < s t 1:place>Chelsea, just above Greenwich village, during the Prohibition and Speakeasy era. His first job following graduation from high school was as a messenger and later as a machine operator for a blue print and reproduction firm in lower < s t 1 : C i t y > < s t 1 : place>Manhattan. Shortly after his 20th birthday in 1942 he enlisted in the United states Navy and served in the South Pacific and South China sea areas as a Radioman during six war patrols on the USS Mingo, a diesel class fleet submarine. In 1946, following his discharge from the Navy at the end of world War II, he joined the New York City Police Department as a Patrolman, serving 20 years in the uniformed branch in the Borough of Manhattan. In 1967, after retiring from the police department he became a Revenue Officer and later a Special Agent, Criminal Investigator with the United States Treasury Department. From 1981 until his retirement from Federal civil service in 1989 he was assigned as the Internal Revenue Service’s Intelligence Representative to the United states National Central Bureau of INTERPOL located in < s t 1 :place>Washington, D.C. Over 135 countries were affiliated with this famous criminal investigative agency during that period. His assignment entailed occasional foreign travel to the international headquarters of INTERPOL at St. cloud, located outside of Paris, < s t 1 : c o u n t r y - r e g i o n > F rance, and various countries in South America and the Carribean area pursuing the investigation of international crimes and criminals. CONSTABLES ON PATROL is Mr. Keenan’s initial literary effort.

This is a work of fiction. Other than historical facts and events, the situations and scenes described are the creation of the author’s imagination. All of the characters in the story, other than those of a historical nature, were created by the author, and none of the character portrayals or events depicted is based on actual persons or happenings. Any similarity, therefore, to anyone living or dead is coincidental.