The next day it was time to pick up Mr. Massey’s son. Detective Mangino met Chanello at the police station. About an hour later, Detective Morrison, who had almost caused a royal messup by announcing the warrant for Donny’s arrest on the CB radio, was trying to redeem his sins. “I brought my kids here to help,” he said.
The other detectives just looked at each other with questioning faces when Chanello spoke up. “If we went to the Mr. Massey’s door, and told whoever answered that Child Protective Services and the courts has ordered us to get Mr. Massey’s child, they might deny he was there. We don’t have a right to search the property for him unless we know he is in the house. This is where detectives Morrison’s children come in. We are going to send them to the door with a football, and we are hoping the maid will at least let Jay come to the door to talk to them, even for a second. The kids will have video and audio surveillance equipment on them. Once detective’s Morrison’s children verify Jay is in the house, we will get them out of the way, and we will be allowed to legally enter the house for Jay.”
"Isn’t this putting detective Morrison’s children in a little too much danger,” asked Mangino?
“I have thought about this a lot,” said detective Morrison.
“What do you mean you have thought about this a lot? The plan was just put into place recently.”
“My children play at Mr. Massey’s house all the time when we visit my parents. My oldest son was on the same flag football team with Mr. Massey’s son. There are basically three scenarios. One is they go to the door and the person answering says that Jay is not home. My kids walk away. The second one is Mr. Massey’s son comes to the door and either comes out into the yard to play or doesn’t. If they all go out into the yard, our officers will be there in 10 seconds to protect the children and take Jay to Child Protective Services. The third option is the only one that has me concerned. They could go to the door and the maid invites them in. I instructed my children to ask jay if he wants to go outside and play football. If he says no, they will leave immediately, and we will go in once they are out of the door.”
“All three scenarios pose almost no risk,” Chanello said. “Mr. Massey would not put his own children at risk.”
Detective Mangino was obviously upset. Her intense feelings were subconsciously affecting her muscle contractions as the coffee in her styrofoam cup was twirling all around.
“I don’t think this is a good idea, Jim.”
He just looked at her, trying to hold his personal annoyance in check, not wanting the other officers to know of their relationship. They probably already knew. Any other officer with so little experience would never challenge someone with so much. But this hurt him. He wanted her to trust him both professionally and personally.
Detective Morrison stood up out of his chair. “I have already made my decision and talked to my kids. They want to do it.”
“Does their mother know about it,” detective Mangino asked? She was very angry.
“I don’t think that’s any of your damn business,” detective Morrison said. “I don’t know who the hell you think you are. How long have you been a cop?”
“Alright, alright. That is enough from both of you,” said Chanello. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
“I am not going to be a part of this,” Mangino said, “unless the chief has authorized this operation.”
“The chief is on vacation, Kate.” Chanello’s eyes were very cold.
“Then I will not be a part of it.” As Mangino said this, she stormed out of the room.
“Screw her,” shouted Chanello. “Everyone move out now!”
As they were driving along to their position, Chanello talked to detective Morrison and his two boys in the backseat. “Remember, we are doing this to solve the brutal murders of two women and a rape and attempted murder of one child.” He looked at the two children, “Are you sure you want to do this?”
They both looked at each other and nodded yes.
“Remember what I told you. Try to get Jay into the front yard quickly. Don’t push too hard, though. If he doesn’t want to come, tell him you will come back later.”
They parked.
The police put the caps on their head with a video monitoring device on each one. The audio equipment was already hooked up to the inside of their shirts. The two children got out of the van and started walking. When they walked to the corner, they turned left. They were tossing the football back and forth between them. They got to the driveway and started walking to the front door. They rang the doorbell.
“Hello,” the housekeeper said as she opened the door.
“Is Jay here,” the older and taller boy asked?
“Who are you?” It was a new housekeeper they had never met.
“I am John.”
“And I am James,” the younger one added.
“Hold on one minute,” she said as she shut the door. As she was walking up the stairs to get Jay, Mr. Massey’s attorney, Mr. Allen, asked who was at the door.
“It is a couple of boys who want to play with Jay.”
“I don’t think that it's a good idea,” Mr. Allen said with authority.
“They have a football,” Rosie said. “All they want to do is play catch,” she walked over and opened the door so Mr. Allen could see them. “What do you think they are going to do?”
“Alright. Let them in but make them play in the backyard. Jay is leaving on a trip in thirty minutes. He is going out of the country.
“Fine, but he should get some energy out first.”
She opened the door and let them in. They walked to Jay’s room. John had played at the house before and knew where the room was.
“You have company,” Rosie joyfully informed Jay.
“Do you want to play football,” John asked?
“Yeah!”
“You boys can play catch, but you must do it in the backyard.”
John looked at James and then at Jay for help. “Uh, we want to play in the front yard,” he said.
“Why,” Rosie asked?
“The back yard is much bigger and there is no cement to scrape your knees on. Afterwards, maybe you boys can eat a snack.”
James was getting scared and began to cry.
One of Mr. Massey’s head security guards was walking by the bedroom at this time.
“What is going on here,” he was looking at Rosie? “I told you we had instructions from Mr. Massey. Who are these kids and why is that little shit crying?”
“Don’t talk that way around the boys,” yelled Rosie!
Bruno, which wasn’t his real name, but that was what everyone called him, walked into the room and bent down before James. “Why are you crying? Is it because you are a crybaby?”
Detective Chanello and Detective Morrison were sitting in the van watching everything. “I think that we need to go in now,” said Morrison. “Look how they are treating my boy.” He had his hands on his pistol.
“Alright.” Chanello ordered all officers to the house. He told Morrison to stay in the van, however.
As Bruno called him a crybaby, he touched the boy's shirt. He felt the wire and pressed on the boy’s shirt even more with both hands where he could feel a microphone.
“What the hell is this, you little…..?”
John still had his hat on and was looking at Bruno and James, as he was crying hysterically and calling for his daddy for help.
Detective Morrison was sitting in the van. Chanello had told him to stay as the other cops were approaching the house. He couldn’t stand to see his boys in so much danger. He pulled out his gun and began to run toward the house.
Bruno and everyone heard the commotion and the screams of police officers running down the hall. He picked up James, pulled his gun out, and walked out into the hall. The police were coming from the front, and he put the gun to the child’s head. The officers stopped and pointed their guns toward him.
“Drop the gun,” yelled Chanello!
“Get out of my way pigs,” said Bruno. Bruno was slowly walking backward, with the gun still pointed at James’ head. He got to the door and tried his best to back kick the glass door. It shattered into pieces, and he slowly stepped back into the backyard. The police were following him.
“Drop the damn gun! If you drop it now, you won’t do any time! You kill a kid, though, and they’ll fry your ass. We’re talking solitary confinement for twelve years first. Then they’ll humiliate you by stuffing cotton up your ass so you don’t shit on yourself when they pour a million volts through your body. Is that what you want? Is it?”
Bruno stopped walking backwards. He pulled the gun a little bit back from the child’s head. “I won’t do any time?”
“None. Just let the boy go now.”
As Chanello finished saying this, he saw detective Morrison jump over the fence with his gun drawn, pointed at Bruno. Chanello looked and yelled at Detective Morrison, “Don’t do it!”
Bruno turned around. The bullet that was supposed to hit him in the back instead hit the boy, James, in the chest. Bruno dropped the boy and pointed the gun at Detective Morrison, but Chanello shot Bruno in the head first. He dropped immediately. Detective Morrison ran toward his son while Chanello and the other cops made sure Bruno was either immobilized or dead. He was the latter. Morrison was crying hysterically, kneeling over his boy and praying he would live. But it was too late. The boy was gone forever.
Chanello turned around to see him hugging his dead son. At first, he just stood there wondering what had gone so wrong. He put a hand on his shoulder to try to show his support, when Morrison looked up at him with the eyes of an avenger and immediately tackled Chanello with his hands on his throat.
“I am going to kill you! How could I have let you talk me into this? I hate you!”
The other cops pulled him off and placed cuffs on him. He was crying hysterically as his other boy, John, came up and hugged his legs, crying.
“How did I let you talk me into this? How in the hell am I going to be able to explain this to my wife? You! You pushed me into this saying my ass was in a sling because of what I said over the CB radio when we went to arrest Donny. You said this would get me out of it. You used me, you son of a bitch!”
Mr. Allen watched as they took little Jay off to Child Protective Services. After two rings, Mr. Massey picked up the phone.
“Sir, we have a major problem. Bruno has been shot by the police and is dead. One of the officers sent his two sons in to verify Jay was in your house. They had surveillance cameras on, and the police stormed your residence. One of the officer’s children was killed, sir.”
“What,” yelled Mr. Massey?
Fear gripped Mr. Allen’s whole being as he pulled the phone away to avoid the intensity of the yelling. At a lull he brought the receiver back to his face.
“Yes sir, they have your son!”