The Fence - Dick Lehr [70]
Inadvertently, or worse, Murphy was aiding and abetting the developing smokescreen hiding the true nature of Mike’s injuries. He was clearing the dead end of officers who either were eyewitnesses to the beating or had picked up information about it. While paramedics loaded Mike into the ambulance, officers, instead of being ordered to document their actions, were told to disappear into the night.
By 3:15 A.M., the ambulance carrying Mike Cox slowly worked its way out of the dead end en route to Boston City Hospital about six miles away. Many officers, following Murphy’s command, were pulling out. Craig Jones left to retrace his steps to search for the handguns. Richie Walker got into his cruiser to head back to the car he’d stopped near the Cortee’s and then abandoned to join the chase. Kenny Conley and Bobby Dwan returned to their cruiser; by 3:30
A.M. they were gone. They headed first to the Roxbury police station. Kenny wanted to retrieve the handcuffs he’d used to complete the task Mike Cox had started—the capture of Smut Brown. From there, they continued driving through Roxbury back up to their sector in the city’s South End, where the next call they took was about yet another “suspicious person” on Washington Street. They found a hooker standing alone in the cold and ordered her to move on.
While some left, plenty of police were still amid the chaos of Woodruff Way—Sergeants Ike Thomas and David Murphy, Donald Caisey from the gang unit, Ian Daley, and a slew of officers from Boston and other police agencies. TV news crews began appearing. Dave Williams and Jimmy Burgio climbed inside Williams’s cruiser to await the arrival of Sergeant Dovidio, their patrol sergeant. To stay warm, they blasted the heater.
Dovidio, the third sergeant, then showed up; in short order, he trumped the supervisory mess already in play at Woodruff Way. His became the starkest display of disregard of duty. Dovidio was fifty-eight years old and nearing retirement. It was as if he wanted nothing to do with actual police work. Earlier, when the high-speed police chase went one way, Dovidio went the other. Even though several of his men, including Dave Williams and Jimmy Burgio, had responded to the shooting at Walaikum’s, Dovidio drove back to the station. He said he had some paperwork to do. Besides, he said later, he was not obligated to get involved in the chase. “It didn’t originate on my district.”
But Dovidio did have to leave his desk once Dave Williams radioed about the damaged cruiser. The sergeant was not happy. He pulled up behind the Lexus, marched to where Williams and Burgio sat in the cruiser, and wanted to know where Burgio’s cruiser was. When they explained that Jimmy’s was back at the station, Dovidio demanded to know what the hell was going on. He began yelling about violating department procedures for teaming up without permission. Burgio tried to settle the sergeant down.
“What are you worried about? I just made a great arrest,” he claimed.
Dovidio would have none of it. “The captain will have my ass.” Thinking it over, Dovidio quickly devised a solution: He told Williams and Burgio they had not been in the one cruiser; instead, Burgio had been in his own cruiser. That was how they were going to write up their reports: There was not one, but two cruisers from the Dorchester station. He even pointed to a spot in the cul-de-sac where Burgio should say his cruiser came to a halt. No matter that the deception would create all kinds of confusion for investigators later trying to map out the scene. Dovidio had come up with an expedient way out for all of them—one that