The Fence - Dick Lehr [77]
In the first days after the beating, instead of launching a full-blown Internal Affairs inquiry, commanders in the field put out the word that officers in Roxbury and Mattapan who’d participated in the chase and were at the dead end had to file a so-called Form 26 report. The officers were to document what they’d done and what they’d seen.
For two weeks the Form 26s trickled in—and the false notes struck the morning of January 25 in initial reports played on. Nearly sixty officers prepared reports—and not a single officer saw or knew anything about Mike’s misfortune. The ultimate see-no-evil filings were done by the core group of officers who, along with Mike and Craig, arrived first to the dead end: gang unit officers Gary Ryan and Joe Teahan, Richie Walker, Ian Daley, Dave Williams, and Jimmy Burgio.
Ryan’s report said he and his partner, Teahan, rode in “the fourth m/v [motor vehicle] on the scene,” where they found “Michael Cox lying on the ground.” That was about all he wrote; Ryan said he didn’t see anybody else and had no idea how Mike got hurt.
Richie Walker, according to his written report, had not even seen Mike Cox: “I learned via my portable Boston Police radio that there was an injured officer at the location where the pursuit had ended.”
Ian Daley drafted a brief, handwritten account in which he at least acknowledged a Cox sighting: “At the conclusion of the pursuit, Officer Daley did observe P.O. Cox laying on the ground bleeding.” But Daley provided no meaningful details.
Dave Williams used a typewriter to fashion his report—all sixty-four words of it. He said he and Burgio were “involved in a foot chase,” suggesting he was in no position whatsoever to see Mike. Williams even got Mike’s name wrong, typing, “I was unaware of any injury to P.O. Richard Cox until later.”
Jimmy Burgio, in the few sentences he prepared, avoided any mention of Mike by focusing singularly on his moment of putative glory: “Myself and P.O. Williams engaged in a brief foot pursuit ending with the arrest of two suspects.”
Their supervisor, Sergeant Dan Dovidio, then extended the cloak of cover. He filed a report saying no other officers were at the dead end when he arrived, except for Williams and Burgio. Separately, he then sought honors for the two officers. He typed a “Recommendation for Commendation,” writing, “Officers Williams and Burgio are worthy of recognition and should be commended for their excellent performance that without doubt instills public confidence to victims of violent crimes.”
The collective exercise in evasion did little to shed light on the beating. The leaders of Mike’s gang unit were growing restless. The unit’s commander on January 30—five days after the beating—fired off a single-spaced, three-page memorandum forcefully calling on the department’s top brass to start an Internal Affairs investigation. “The most disturbing aspect of this,” the commander wrote, “is that not only was Officer Cox assaulted, but he was left on the sidewalk.” The commander stressed, “as of the writing of this report, no officer has come forward, in spite of the fact that there were numerous officers involved in this initial vehicle and suspect pursuit.”
Four days later, the Boston Herald ran the first story mentioning Mike in connection with the high-speed chase and capture of four murder suspects. The tabloid’s early “bulldog” edition hit the streets not long after midnight and was usually read by the cops, firefighters, cabdrivers, and anyone else working in the dark. The story said Mike had been injured and the department was investigating whether he’d been beaten.
Later in the night, the telephone rang and awoke Mike and Kimberly. Mike turned carefully and grabbed for the receiver by their bed. He heard a voice grumbling. The voice was unfamiliar, and Mike had to hold the receiver away from his ear when the grumbling grew into a primal scream. The scream spread through the room. Then it stopped. The caller hung up. Mike put down the receiver. He was puzzled, but didn’t think much of the weirdness.