S Rozan - Absent Friends

She smelled Tom's good coffee from the top of the stairs; by the time she reached the kitchen, he had poured her a cup, in the same black mug she had used last night. Or maybe this morning he was using that one, and she was using his.

“Scrambled eggs?” he asked. In a pan on the stove, butter made little spitting sounds as it started to melt.

“Let me make them.”

“No way. I'm trying to impress you.”

“You already have.”

He grinned. “I mean, in the kitchen.”

Marian felt herself flush from her breasts to her scalp. Tom politely turned away, still grinning.

Breakfast was orange juice, eggs, toast, and more coffee. She sipped her coffee and watched him bring the plates to the table, and as he sat, she finally faced the thought she had been turning from all morning.

Jimmy's papers, what he had left behind.

His legacy. Oh, if any of this were funny, that would be a laugh.

If the papers Jimmy had left told the true story of Jack's death-and what else, what subject was there?-then the legendary James McCaffery, the hero people needed so desperately to believe in in these terrible times, the legend that should have been Jimmy's legacy, would be destroyed. All the brave and selfless acts over the years, the risks, the rescues, would mean nothing. The man responsible for them would be revealed to be not who people thought he was, and it would change things, and one more thing people believed was solid and beautiful and good would turn into choking, crumbling rubble.

And drinking Tom's coffee, watching Tom, Marian thought: Not only Jimmy.

Tom Molloy had gone from bad to good, from dangerous taker to generous giver. He had left the path he was born to follow and gone another way. He had put his heart into it. Now, perhaps, Marian understood why. But the perilous truths Jimmy left behind could destroy Tom, too.

And the Fund. All the good the Fund could do, she could do, could be gone also.

It couldn't happen. It mustn't happen. Jimmy was already gone, and Markie, and Jack. And now, the good that was left, to be scorched into lifelessness and scattered like ash in a city choking on ashes?

No.

“Tom?”

“Hmm?”

“Jimmy-I think he told the story, Tom. He left some record of it. That reporter said so.”

Tom didn't seem surprised or upset. That heartened her; that was the old Tom. It was comforting, in the same way as her small fantasies-the cabin in the woods-comforted her.

“She said that to me, too,” Tom said. “Papers. Do you believe it?”

“What if he did? If he wrote it all down? If he wrote down the truth?”

Tom's blue eyes regarded her. “I'll deny it.”

Marian was confused. “You'll-?”

“I'm the only one left, Marian. I'll say he was writing a novel, these papers are just notes for it. Lots of firefighters write novels. I could even say I knew he was, that he told me about it.”

Doubtfully, Marian said, “Do you think that would work?”

Tom pushed back his chair, came and stood behind her, kneading her shoulders with powerful, sure hands.

“It was an accident,” he said softly. “That night, what happened to my brother, my God, Marian, it was a lifetime ago, and it was an accident. ”

His fingers found the fear in her shoulders, the foreboding at the base of her skull, found them and broke them down and commanded them away.

“Jimmy was a hero,” he said. “Why can't people keep their heroes, when they need them?”

Heroes, Marian thought, surrendering to Tom's hands. Everyone had to have heroes.

From the New York Tribune, November 1, 2001

1979 SLAYING REEXAMINED

NEW EVIDENCE CASTS DOUBT

ON ORIGINAL STORY

Old Crime May Be Tied to Reporter's Death

Nature of Hero Firefighter's Involvement Still Uncertain

by Laura Stone

Captain James McCaffery of Ladder Co. 62 died a hero on September 11, like hundreds of other New York City firefighters. Unlike many of his fallen brothers, however, it appears that McCaffery may have gone to his death hiding decades-old secrets that are only now coming to light.

A recent article in the New York Tribune by Harry Randall, a three-time Pulitzer Prize-winning reporter, began to probe some of these secrets. Randall died on October 29 under circumstances now considered suspicious and possibly related to his investigation of incidents in McCaffery's past.

The questions surrounding McCaffery stem from the death of Jack Molloy, stepson of alleged crime figure Michael “Mike the Bear” Molloy. Jack Molloy died from a single gunshot in September 1979. Mark Keegan, a close friend of Capt. McCaffery's, was convicted of weapons possession but never charged with homicide. Keegan claimed he and Molloy were alone at the time of the shooting. He said Molloy was drunk and attacked him, and that he fired in self-defense. At the time no one who knew Keegan could explain why he was carrying a gun or where he had obtained it, nor did Keegan offer an explanation. The precise nature of the dispute between Molloy and Keegan that led Molloy to fire two shots was never clear to police or prosecutors. Keegan was himself slain in prison five months later.

New evidence uncovered by the Tribune, however, suggests that a third man may have been present. “It had to be him,” said a retired police officer with close ties to the case, referring to McCaffery and speaking on condition of anonymity. In addition to evidence the NYPD is unwilling to reveal, the anonymous source pointed to the money trail uncovered by the late Mr. Randall. Payments purportedly from the State of New York were made through Keegan's defense attorney, Phillip Constantine, to the Keegan family for eighteen years. The money did not, however, come from the State. Constantine refused to discuss the origin of the funds, but admits to meeting with McCaffery many times over the years. The NYPD source suggests that though the money may have come through McCaffery, it is unlikely to have been his.

The Tribune has also discovered the subject of the argument between Molloy and Keegan on the fatal night. According to Constantine, Keegan had previously informed Molloy that the police were on the verge of shutting down Molloy's criminal activities. Molloy, however, had his own informants in the NYPD and discovered that this story was untrue.

This was confirmed by NYPD Assistant Commissioner Charles Rosoff, a sergeant at the 124th Precinct at that time. Both Commissioner Rosoff and the anonymous police source speculate that the rumor of a crackdown may have originated with Edward Spano, an alleged organized crime figure on Staten Island with reputed ties to the Bonnano crime family.

Commissioner Rosoff, in an interview at One Police Plaza, said Keegan had been well liked and had a reputation for picking up information. “If you wanted to plant a story, he's the guy you'd plant it on,” the Commissioner said. Asked whether the story was planted by the NYPD, he denied it. He alleged that both the Molloy and Spano organizations had police officers on their payrolls. When asked to speculate on the source of the false story, both Commissioner Rosoff and the anonymous police source pointed to the dismantling of the Molloy organization soon after Jack Molloy's death and the subsequent growth of the alleged Spano criminal network.

“Maybe Spano invented the story to scare Molloy out of town, got it to Keegan through a cop so Keegan would think it was the real deal,” Commissioner Rosoff said. Then Spano might have offered Jack Molloy a deal to take over Molloy's operations. This offer might have been made through an intermediary, possibly McCaffery.

Commissioner Rosoff went on to suggest this further scenario: after Keegan's death, McCaffery may have pressed Spano into making payments to Keegan's young family-the mysterious payments “from the State”-as the price of his own silence regarding Spano's involvement. When asked whether the information McCaffery could have revealed was enough to prompt Spano to agree to blackmail, the Commissioner said, “Think about this: what if Keegan wasn't the shooter? What if it was McCaffery? If he was there that night to negotiate for Spano, that could get Spano sent up. Keegan takes the fall because he's promised a fix and a payoff. When Keegan dies, McCaffery tells Spano the money better keep coming. If I was Spano, I'd pay.”