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“To support this,” Carlucci said, “as of today, those applying for consideration to join the department will no longer need college credits. A high school diploma or equivalent will suffice. There will also be a minimum age of twenty-two. And a new starting salary of fifty thousand dollars. Also, we are suspending the requirement that officers must live within the Philadelphia city limits.”
“Jesus H. Christ!” Harris said. “Now, that’s a huge one-eighty he’s taking. Carlucci was the one who championed the higher standards.”
“I’ve been told, in no uncertain terms,” Payne said, “that he’s under tremendous pressure to do something if he expects to get reelected. He’s apparently taking a number of actions he otherwise wouldn’t.”
When a couple heads turned to look at him, Payne added, “You didn’t hear that from me. And I damn sure never said it.”
Carlucci said, “Many other changes are being weighed and will be announced at a later date . . .”
All heads were now turned to look back at Payne.
“. . . We are confident that with these new changes we will fill the next class at the police academy with exceptional recruits who, after rigorous training, will complement all members of our exceptional police department.”
“Does he really believe what he’s saying?” McCrory said.
Carlucci looked around, then said, “Finally, I’m confident everyone will recognize, and welcome, the well-regarded Margaret Hart, who for twenty years was one of our city’s distinguished news anchors, before transitioning to talk radio . . .”
“Carlucci hates that woman,” Harris blurted. “When he was the commish, Maggie Hart called him out on everything. What else is he going to roll over for?”
Payne raised a brow but said nothing.
“Ms. Hart,” the mayor said, “is joining the department as chief of the Communications Unit, which oversees Public Affairs. I believe we all can agree that Ms. Hart enjoys a genuine connection with our fellow citizens, who now will find her the confident, trusted face of the Philadelphia Police Department.”
“My God,” McCrory added, “she’s the best face he could find? Her looks started going south in her thirties. By the time Baggy-eyed Maggie hit forty, you cursed the day they invented these high-definition televisions. When she finally got booted from TV—all the peroxide in the world couldn’t save her—radio was her only real option.”
“Wasn’t there a rumor that she and Randle had a fling years ago?” Harris said.
“I think you’re right,” Payne said. “And that sure would go a long way in explaining why she just got a nice two-hundred-grand do-nothing job from a city so deep in the red that it owes the pension fund six billion.”
“Okay,” Mayor Carlucci said, “I am told that we have time for a few questions.”
“Mr. Mayor,” a female voice said, “what is your response to the charge from the Concerned Citizens for Philadelphia that your announcement today of this new operation is a false flag to take the focus off the recent pay-for-play accusations made against you.”
Carlucci flashed a big smile.
“I’m afraid I don’t understand the question. What does this have to do with Operation Thunder Road?”
“My point precisely!” the female reporter said. “And there is the fact that you recently added to your staff two of Francis Fuller’s high-ranking executives who continue being paid by his corporate office. You just mentioned the public’s lack of faith. Shouldn’t these staffers have taken a leave of their company, at the very least, to avoid the appearance of undue influence on city business by Fuller—”
Carlucci’s face flushed. “That is preposterous!”
“And gone so far as to put their holdings in a blind trust so as to avoid any suggestion of personally enriching themselves while in office?” she finished.
“And that’s absolutely disingenuous,” Carlucci said. “Putting one’s investments in a blind trust does not stop one from being corrupt—”
“Mr. Mayor,” a male reporter interrupted, “then you are admitting that there’s corruption in your office?”
“That’s an outrageous suggestion!” Carlucci said as a slender, dark-haired thirty-year-old executive in a well-cut conservative suit stepped up. “You’re leaping to conclusions!”
“Ah, here’s Mr. Stein now,” the reporter said.
Chief Executive Advisor Edward Stein, Esquire, tugged at Carlucci’s jacket sleeve, and Carlucci stepped back from the microphones.
There arose a chorus of reporter voices: “Mr. Stein, Mr. Stein—”
Margaret Hart worked her way up to the microphones.
“I’ll be happy to take questions about today’s announcement of Operation Thunder Road,” she said. “Anyone?”
