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And it wouldn’t be the last one these kids saw.
Epilogue
Five days after Alonzo’s ceremony, the family gathered at our apartment on the Upper West Side. There was a ripple of excitement running through the crowd. The kids had jostled for position on the couch and on the carpet so that they could look into the screen of the new laptop computer I had bought for Trent and Eddie. They were going to need it for the special classes at Columbia University.
Wedged in the middle of the crowd was Seamus, who looked as excited as an eight-year-old at Christmas. I didn’t even fool with the computer. I deferred to Eddie and let him set up the video chat. We were looking at a prison administrator on the screen to make sure our connection was stable.
This was our reward for Brian’s helping out on the case. Sergeant Marcia and I had written up an affidavit detailing Brian’s help on a case that not only hurt a drug cartel but also captured an assassin who was wanted all over the world.
It wasn’t enough to get him released early, but the judge did have him moved to a medium-security youthful offender program at the Mohawk Correctional Facility, in Oneida County. It was closer to us and, after what had happened to Brian, considered much safer. One of the perks was that Brian got to make a weekly phone call via computer. That meant we had a live video feed of him every week.
Brian’s face came on the screen. I pumped my fist as if the Giants had just scored a touchdown. It was a tiny victory, but after all we had been through, it made my heart race with excitement. It was great to see his wide smile as he took in the video feed of his nine brothers and sisters, his father, his great-grandfather, and his soon-to-be stepmother.
Each of the kids got to say hello individually and chat with him for a minute. I’m sure when they put the time limits on these calls, no one at the New York State Department of Corrections considered the possibility that an inmate would have nine siblings.
Then the boys talk
ed to him as a group for a minute.
Ricky said, “How’s the food in there?”
“A little better than Gowanda.”
Eddie said, “What kind of computer are you on right now?”
Brian gave him a quick laugh and said, “It’s no brand name, that’s for sure. One of the classes here is computer technology. These computers were all built by parts ordered in bulk. It’s a big ugly desktop, but it gets the job done.”
I realized that prison life had filed off any ideas Brian might have had about luxury. But he looked good. His smile alone was enough to cheer me up.
Seamus chased away the kids and sat down with me on the couch so the two of us could talk to Brian alone.
My grandfather said, “Are you keeping your priorities straight, Brian?”
“Yes, sir. I’ve signed up for every possible course. I’m trying to read two books a week, and I go to the service in our chapel every Sunday.”
Seamus nodded in approval. “Good lad, good lad.”
I finally had my turn to speak with my son for a few minutes. I told him, “Don’t worry. I haven’t given up on getting you out. I have other angles to work on.”
“I’m not worried, Dad. I know you’ll do your best. Who knows? Like Gramps says, ‘God works in mysterious ways.’”
That was enough for me. No matter what happened or what conflicts I faced on the NYPD, I could rest easy knowing my son believed in me.
And there was no way I was going to let him down.
Michael Bennett, be grateful
you’re alive.
Someone attacked the Thanksgiving Day Parade directly in front of Michael Bennett and his family. The television news called it “Holiday Terror”—Michael Bennett calls it personal. The hunt is on.…
Read on for a bonus
Michael Bennett story, Manhunt
Chapter 1
MY ENTIRE BROOD, plus Mary Catherine and my grandfather, gathered in the living room. We’d been told to expect a call from Brian between eight and eight fifteen. That gave us enough time to eat, clean up, and at least start the mountain of homework that nine kids get from one of the better Catholic schools in New York City.
