Campanelli: Sentinel (16 page)

              Frank leaned his head back into the soft couch as the anchor woman’s voice filled his small residence.

              “…
leading to an increase in fatalities since late last year. The Mayor’s office has pressed the Chicago Police Superintendent, Jack Dehner, for improvements in the Sentinel Division’s performance. According to sources within the department, Superintendent Dehner has shuffled manpower over to Sentinel in efforts to crack down on the human trafficking while at the same time reducing instances of gunplay during the apprehension of suspects. At an impromptu press conference in front of Police Headquarters this afternoon, Earl Sebastian, the Chief of the Organized Crime Division which oversees Sentinel, had this to say.”

             
The screenshot shoved the anchor woman into the lower left corner of the visual area as the immense Chief Sebastian quickly took command of the bulk of Frank’s wall. The OCD man had each of the three local stations’ microphones invading his personal space. From the amount of sunlight hitting the glass of the Michigan Avenue headquarters behind him, it must have taken place while Campanelli slept. Someone behind the microphones could be heard asking what steps the Chief had taken so far as a result of the mayor’s request.

              “
First and foremost we have taken a long, hard look at the organization and moved some assets from other departments into Sentinel. Even before the mayor mandated it, the superintendent and I planned on tackling the continued human trafficking problem head on and putting an end to it. In order to do that, I took direct control of the Sentinel Division and created a task force dedicated to it. I appointed a former homicide detective…
”

              “Don’t say it!” Frank heard himself yell at the image.

              “
…Captain Frank Campanelli…
”

              “You sonofabitch!”

              “…
as my second in command. He has handpicked many detectives from his and other divisions and has, just today, in fact, arrested the cop killer, James Antony.
”

              “That’s just great,” Campanelli muttered and rubbed his forehead.

              Another question was asked by a reporter, but Frank was too distracted to hear it.

              “
Well, the rally that Mister DeSilva is holding at Daley Plaza is not altogether unwelcome. I understand the minister’s message to be not all that different from that of the Mayor’s Office. In fact, Detective Campanelli and myself will be in attendance and will be speaking there.
”

              “What the mother…!” Campanelli was interrupted by his ringing telephone. “Mute!” he shouted at the holovision set. It quieted, but Sebastian’s mouth was still working. Frank cursed his new boss again before picking up the phone. “Hello,” he said too harshly.

              “Hello to
you
, grouch,” Tam said. “I guess you
do
have the news on.”

              “I do,” Frank replied and let out a loud breath of air. “Sorry.”

              “No problem,” she said. He could hear the news anchor speaking through the phone. The HV at
Tam’s Place
was on, in fact, she had turned up the volume. Looking to his set, he confirmed that his boss had finished spewing his name over the air. “So, you got him today, huh?”

              “Antony? Yeah,” Campanelli answered as he directed his implant to connect with the CPD server. He was sure to have messages.

              “Did he get hurt?”

              “Broken wrist and…I punched him,” he said as he checked the knuckles on his right hand. They were sore, but he felt it was worth it.

              “Good!”

              “Listen, you wanna come by tonight?” Frank asked. His
CAPS-Link
flagged a new message from Marcus about the ongoing interrogations of their prisoners. It required a conversation, not his presence.

              “And visit my favorite celeb? Try stoppin’ me,” Tam said cheerily.

              “All right, all right,” Frank replied as he poured himself a glass of bourbon. “I’m not going anywhere.”

              “Okay, I’ll bring dinner,” she promised. They said their goodbyes and ended the call.

              Frank stared at the silent holovision for several seconds. He read Williams’s message again and snatched the receiver back up, quickly punching the number of the surveillance room’s phone into the keypad.

              “Lyman,” his underling spoke.

              “Campanelli,” Frank identified, “What’s new?”

              “I’ll let Williams tell ya,” Hank answered, sounding triumphant, “hang on.”

              “Frank?” Marcus said a moment later.

              “Yeah.”

              “We got just about everything we hoped for,” his partner said happily.

              “Except the name of the money man.”

              “Well, yeah,” Marcus admitted. “I have to tell you, I don’t think they know who it is.”

              “Did they sign their statements, yet?”

              “Yes,” Williams answered, “and I got the DA to talk to Beritoni. It looks like they reached an understanding pretty quickly. He’s going into the lockup here for tonight before the transfer to a safe house. He’s none-too-happy about the accommodations.”

              “I’m sure,” Campanelli said as he commanded the holovision to change the channel. To his surprise, the reverend, minister or whatever Maximilian DeSilva called himself was already on the air. A spinning symbol at the corner of the viewing area indicated that it was a live broadcast. “Say, Marcus?”

              “Yeah.”

              “Drop by in a while would’ja?” Frank asked as he commanded the set to record the broadcast.

              “Sure, Frank. Somethin’ up?”

              “I think maybe there is,” he answered tentatively as he walked slowly toward the image of DeSilva. “I just want to bounce an idea off you.”

              “We’re all done here,” Williams said, “I’ll be by in a few.”

              They ended the call and Campanelli turned up the volume. At first, it sounded like the same garbage.

              “…
the mayor says, ‘We’re on it! We’re takin’ care of it!’ You know what I think brothers and sisters? I think that he needs to understand where we’re comin’ from!!
”

              The congregation sang their praises of the Lord and DeSilva.

              “
The chief of police needs to hear you! The mayor needs to see you! We need to get our will enforced! The will of the people shall command them to stop the sinners from their exodus to that evil planet!
”

              The roar of the audience reached a crescendo that halted Maximilian’s speech. He nodded like a broken puppet with their misguided adulation. He paced the stage with his back arched and his hands behind his back. To Frank, he looked rather like a rooster that has just awakened the hen house.

              “This guy is trouble,” Campanelli muttered and savored his bourbon. The possibilities of what might happen at this man’s rally ran through his head. So violent was the collective voice of Maximilian’s followers that he considered contacting Sebastian and recommending an activation of additional patrolmen for a Saturday riot. The cameras panned across the mob. Otherwise intelligent-looking men and women pumped fists into the air and howled for the microphones. The expressions of anger and frustrations on their faces gave Frank a chill throughout his spine.

              He sat and watched the broadcast for many minutes, taking in the message that DeSilva was issuing to his followers. There was more nonsense, more misinformation and more unqualified negativity spewing forth from that stage than from any news broadcast he had ever witnessed in his life. According to Maximilian, the police had no intention of enforcing the anti-migration law and that the OCD chief’s announcement about the new plans was a complete falsehood.

              Frank poured himself another bourbon as the doorbell rang. It was Marcus. He let him in and ordered the holovision to play his recording from the beginning.

              “Hey, Frank,” Marcus greeted but was immediately distracted by the yelling man on the screen. “Who’s this?”

              “Shhh. Listen,” Campanelli directed as he retrieved a bottle of beer for his guest. Williams did not care much for whiskey.

              Williams accepted the beer quietly and did as his partner told him. Five minutes into the rant, Marcus said, “Hey! Pause this.”

              “Pause!” Frank commanded. To Marcus, he said, “Crackpot, right?”

              “Well, yeah, but,” Williams shoved a thumb toward the image of DeSilva projected on the far wall, “I’ve seen him before.”

              “Yeah,
we
have,” Frank emphasized.

              “We? Okay, where?”

              “Beritoni’s office.”

              Williams snapped his fingers and nodded vigorously. He took a huge tug from the beer before he went on. “What the hell was he doing there?”

              “Who knows?”

              “And…follow up question…isn’t it a conflict of interest that Beritoni represents this preacher who is so against migration
and
Ignatola’s people?”

              “To say the least,” Frank agreed. He allowed the recording to continue.

              “
The mayor will hear us, by God! He will put a stop to this sinning against the Lord!
” Maximilian’s voice had risen in pitch and volume over the last few minutes. The oration was coming to an end, he felt sure, as the haunting church music had begun to play.

              The doorbell rang again. Frank let Tam inside.

              “Hi Frank, Hi Marcus!” she greeted, surprised to see Frank’s partner. The man projected on the far wall grabbed her attention next. “Oh,
this
guy.”

              Frank helped relieve Tamara of the bags of food in her arms, placing them on the counter and giving her a peck on the cheek. The three of them said nothing as the holovision preacher wrapped up his show.

              “
Show your support of us next Saturday, brothers and sisters! Remember to keep an eye and an ear upon your friends and neighbors, your acquaintances and for strangers, who would carry out their sins against our Lord! The migrations must stop!!
”

              “Holy crap,” Tam declared, drawing looks from Frank and Marcus. “Literally,” she added, earning chuckles from the both of them.

              Maximilian DeSilva said goodbye to the crowd in his usual, boisterous manner, among the thrumming music and the maniacal cheers. Frank shook his head in disbelief.

              “That guy is friggin’ dangerous,” Marcus said with certainty, his finger shaking at the fading image.

              “Thank you,” Frank granted.

              “Oh! I don’t know,” Tam said through a bemused grin as she unpackaged the food, “he’s just a holovision minister. No one’s taking him seriously.”

              “Did you not hear the roar of the crowd, my dear?” Frank asked incredulously.

              “Who says those people are real, Frank?” Tam stopped, cocked her head to one side and put a hand on one hip, like she always did when she had a point. “They could be computer-generated. Special effects.”

              “Hmmm,” Marcus granted.

              “That’s a good point that can be easily proven,” Campanelli admitted, “but that’s not the immediate concern here.”

              “Then, what is?” Tam asked as she turned her attention back to food preparation.

              “The concern is this…well, rally he’s holding,” Frank went on. “Whether the crowd is fake or not, Tam, the question remains, does he have an effect on the populace?”

              “We should prepare ourselves for this thing,” Marcus said.

              Frank nodded and turned to Tamara, who still appeared dubious.

              “I think you guys are overreacting,” she said, but changed the subject. “Who’s hungry? Don’t you go nowhere, young man!” she prodded Williams, who appeared to be begging off. “There’s plenty for three.”

              Marcus acquiesced, grabbing a plate of the roast beef, bread and vegetables that Tam had brought from her diner. The three of them continued their discussion of DeSilva’s influence, but Frank’s mention of their chance meeting at Beritoni’s office stopped her cold.

              “Wait a minute,” Tam said, putting down her fork with a metal on glass clatter, “you two saw this DeSilva guy at the same lawyer’s office that the Ignatola crime family uses?”

              “Yeah,” Campanelli said around a mouthful of bread. He raised an eyebrow at her.

              “You think DeSilva knows about that?” she asked with her head tilted again.