off.
"Very short briefing today," Gunther announced as soon as Willy settled in. "But it is a heads-up. I guess everyone's heard about the hanging in Rutland?"
"Nice of the scumbags to police their own garbage," Willy commented.
"Maybe," Joe continued, never one to let Willy derail the proceedings, "but it looks like we'll have to chip in as well. The governor will soon be announcing that in an effort to stop the flow of heroin into Vermont, the VBI will be called to the trenches."
"As what?" Willy demanded. "I thought your big deal was for us to play backup to everybody, including the village constable."
"Let the man talk," Sam said wearily.
Joe nodded in his direction. "No, he's right. Crude, but right on target. This is going to happen mostly because there's a second drug-related death that hasn't made the news yet, involving a relative of one of Reynolds's key backers. Our biggest job, however, will be to find a way not to look like the governor's flunkies."
"Nice try," Willy grumbled. "It's what we are."
"Not if we deliver something the others don't have. Then his choice looks reasonable and we maintain credibility."
"How do we do that?" Sam asked. "The Southern Vermont Drug Task Force has years more experience than we do."
"I'm working on that. They are strapped for help right now, Allard is maneuvering to give us exclusive access to extra money, I got Dick Allen weighing in with his old buddies on our behalf, and I'm hoping for one extra piece of leverage, which is to get in on some of the action at the source."
"In Holyoke," Sam suggested, bringing their earlier conversation to bear.
"Right. The task force will probably have to commit more time than they'd like on this Rutland double homicide. If we can build up something fast with a Holyoke connection, it might make us more useful, not to mention more acceptable. 'Cause don't get me wrong here: I don't just want to look good. We need to be a real asset."
"Why Holyoke?" Kunkle asked. "We've known about them for years."
"True," Gunther told him, "but while most of Rutland's drugs have been and are still coming from there, there's now a very vague rumor that someone in Holyoke may be organizing how things are being done."
"Shit—that was bound to happen."
"What's the plan, then?" Sam asked.
Joe glanced over at Lester Spinney, usually a much more involved member of the general conversation. So far, he'd done no more than distractedly poke at the small framed family photos on his desk with the end of a pencil.
"Homework," Gunther said. "I've already got Sam started. If you all coordinate with her, dig into your personal files, have talks with your informants, and see whatever you can come up with that has anything to do with Holyoke, that would help. I've typed up what I got from Allard about the Rutland deaths and will print it out after this—it has dates, names, and details that might be helpful. If you have any ongoing cases that can be put on the back burner for the next couple of days, put them there. This gets top priority for now. And it's basically a no-lose deal for us—if we do tumble to an organizer, so much the better, but given that the trade originates in Holyoke regardless, any foothold we gain on the inside will have merit. Problems?"
The general silence spoke for itself. As unpleasant as was the way they were being brought in, the mere scent of a major case was an adrenaline rush for these cops. Joe was sanguine they'd get results.
But he did have one last question of his own. "Willy, you're the expert on local lowlifes. Ever hear of Roger Novelle?"
Sam looked at her boss sharply as Willy answered, "Sure. Real scuzzball. Looking at habitual offender status next time he faces the judge. No Holyoke connections that I know of, though. I doubt he has the brains to read a map. Why?"
"Name came up."
* * *
Officer Henry Jordan drove slowly down South Main much later that night, only vaguely aware of the open street ahead of
"Very short briefing today," Gunther announced as soon as Willy settled in. "But it is a heads-up. I guess everyone's heard about the hanging in Rutland?"
"Nice of the scumbags to police their own garbage," Willy commented.
"Maybe," Joe continued, never one to let Willy derail the proceedings, "but it looks like we'll have to chip in as well. The governor will soon be announcing that in an effort to stop the flow of heroin into Vermont, the VBI will be called to the trenches."
"As what?" Willy demanded. "I thought your big deal was for us to play backup to everybody, including the village constable."
"Let the man talk," Sam said wearily.
Joe nodded in his direction. "No, he's right. Crude, but right on target. This is going to happen mostly because there's a second drug-related death that hasn't made the news yet, involving a relative of one of Reynolds's key backers. Our biggest job, however, will be to find a way not to look like the governor's flunkies."
"Nice try," Willy grumbled. "It's what we are."
"Not if we deliver something the others don't have. Then his choice looks reasonable and we maintain credibility."
"How do we do that?" Sam asked. "The Southern Vermont Drug Task Force has years more experience than we do."
"I'm working on that. They are strapped for help right now, Allard is maneuvering to give us exclusive access to extra money, I got Dick Allen weighing in with his old buddies on our behalf, and I'm hoping for one extra piece of leverage, which is to get in on some of the action at the source."
"In Holyoke," Sam suggested, bringing their earlier conversation to bear.
"Right. The task force will probably have to commit more time than they'd like on this Rutland double homicide. If we can build up something fast with a Holyoke connection, it might make us more useful, not to mention more acceptable. 'Cause don't get me wrong here: I don't just want to look good. We need to be a real asset."
"Why Holyoke?" Kunkle asked. "We've known about them for years."
"True," Gunther told him, "but while most of Rutland's drugs have been and are still coming from there, there's now a very vague rumor that someone in Holyoke may be organizing how things are being done."
"Shit—that was bound to happen."
"What's the plan, then?" Sam asked.
Joe glanced over at Lester Spinney, usually a much more involved member of the general conversation. So far, he'd done no more than distractedly poke at the small framed family photos on his desk with the end of a pencil.
"Homework," Gunther said. "I've already got Sam started. If you all coordinate with her, dig into your personal files, have talks with your informants, and see whatever you can come up with that has anything to do with Holyoke, that would help. I've typed up what I got from Allard about the Rutland deaths and will print it out after this—it has dates, names, and details that might be helpful. If you have any ongoing cases that can be put on the back burner for the next couple of days, put them there. This gets top priority for now. And it's basically a no-lose deal for us—if we do tumble to an organizer, so much the better, but given that the trade originates in Holyoke regardless, any foothold we gain on the inside will have merit. Problems?"
The general silence spoke for itself. As unpleasant as was the way they were being brought in, the mere scent of a major case was an adrenaline rush for these cops. Joe was sanguine they'd get results.
But he did have one last question of his own. "Willy, you're the expert on local lowlifes. Ever hear of Roger Novelle?"
Sam looked at her boss sharply as Willy answered, "Sure. Real scuzzball. Looking at habitual offender status next time he faces the judge. No Holyoke connections that I know of, though. I doubt he has the brains to read a map. Why?"
"Name came up."
* * *
Officer Henry Jordan drove slowly down South Main much later that night, only vaguely aware of the open street ahead of
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