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Queen's Gambit (A James Maguire Novel Book 2) Page 2

After a minute, Mayor-elect Alan McMasters got up from the couch, a huge smile appearing on his face, and began shaking the hands of the well-wishers who closed in around him. Jill McMasters took the opportunity to walk across the room and peer into the adjoining suite where their two children, thirteen year old Robert and eleven year old Lauren, were holed up playing video games.

  Lauren was the first to look up, hearing all the commotion in the background.

  “What’s going on?”

  “We’re going to have to start packing.”

  “Why?”

  “Because your daddy won the election and we are going to be moving to Gracie Mansion.”

  Robert looked up from his game. “Why do we have to move?”

  Jill smiled. “Because that’s where the mayor and his family live.”

  “The mayor now doesn’t live there.”

  “Well, we are a family that believes in upholding traditions and I think it is rude to turn down living in the house the people of New York City provide to their mayor.”

  Gracie Mansion had been built in 1799 by Archibald Gracie and was a private residence until 1896 when the municipal government took control of it. In 1942 Fiorello LaGuardia became the first New York City Mayor to use it as his residence, a tradition that lasted until 2001 when then Mayor Rudolph Giuliani moved out because he was getting divorced. New York City law prevents the use of Gracie Mansion by anyone other than the Mayor, his family and visiting public officials, even if just for an overnight stay. Since then, the residence had remained empty and was used only for official events.

  Robert groaned audibly. “Do we have to change schools?”

  “No, you and your sister will still go to your school.”

  “Will I still have my own room?” Lauren asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Ok.”

  And with that the trauma of the move came to a conclusion as the kids redirected their attention back to their respective video games.

  Kids are so resilient; Jill thought as she walked out of the room and rejoined the party.

  When the handshakes and congratulations were done, Alan McMasters walked over to where Richard Stargold stood talking to Tom Murphy, McMasters' chief of staff.

  “Just the two men to whom I need to speak,” McMasters said. “Let’s go somewhere quiet.”

  The three men stepped into the adjoining room, which had been set up as a pseudo office, and closed the door.

  McMasters was the first to break the silence. “What the hell did we just do?”

  Murphy and Stargold both laughed.

  The race had edged ever closer in the weeks preceding the election. McMasters' opponent, Jesse Walters, had unleashed a vicious partisan advertising campaign that attacked McMasters' career in the state senate. It was particularly effective and it appeared that Walters would ride a wave to victory. But then, for some inexplicable reason, the campaign turned their focus on McMasters' military career.

  The backlash was immediate and swift.

  While McMasters refused to comment on the smear campaign, a new advertisement, paid for by a military veteran’s political action committee, began to run. It showed a grainy black and white video of a young Marine Lieutenant coming out of doorway, supporting a wounded soldier, and taking him to safety. The screen faded to black with a caption that simply read “McMasters opponent says service doesn’t matter, tell that to this marine. Better yet, tell it to Jesse Walters on November 6th.”

  Overnight, the course of the election had changed.

  Jesse Walters tried desperately to get ahead of the controversy, but it was all for naught. His campaign now found itself making excuses and trying to clarify things, while McMasters took the moral high ground. In the end, Walters' campaign managed to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory.

  “Well Rich, we’ve spoken about this before but now it’s real. You know how I feel. I can deal with the politics, but policing is not my forte. I need someone I can trust, someone who I know has got my back. What do you say? Will you be my police commissioner?”

  Stargold stood there for a moment, letting the significance of the moment sink in. He had spoken with his wife Mary, and James, at length about the offer. Both had encouraged him to accept it, pointing out the obvious career implications. Rich had risen in the ranks of the United States Secret Service, achieving the coveted slot of Special Agent in Charge of the New York City Field Office. It was something he knew, something with which he was comfortable.

  This was an entirely different animal.

  The New York City Police Department was officially established as a municipal police agency in 1845, but its roots date back much farther, to 1625, when an eight man Dutch night watch patrolled the streets of New Amsterdam, what is now the southern tip of Manhattan. From those humble beginnings, the department grew to its current strength of over 35,000 sworn officers plus another several thousand support staff. Not only was it the largest police department in the United States, it was actually larger than some countries standing armies.

  The NYPD was unique in that it was completely self-contained. In addition to its impressive manpower levels, it boasted a wide array of specialized units, including the Emergency Service Unit, the NYPD’s version of SWAT, Aviation Unit, Harbor Patrol, Mounted, Canine, Intelligence Division, Narcotics, and Organized Crime, to name just a few. After the attacks of September 11th, 2001, the department had formed the Counter Terrorism Bureau to address the threat posed to the city. Ultimately the reach of the CTB expanded beyond the streets of the Big Apple and into eleven foreign cities including London, Paris, Madrid, Tel Aviv, Hamburg, and Toronto.

  Even though running the New York Field Office was a highly sought after position, it was still just one of the Secret Service’s 136 field offices worldwide. Accepting the position of police commissioner would put him in charge of a department more than seven times larger than the Secret Service and with an operating budget of nearly four billion dollars. The reality was staggering.

  Stargold took a deep breath as he formulated his response.

  “I get to choose my people?”

  McMasters looked over at Tom Murphy and smiled.

  “Rich, you work for me,” said McMasters. “Who you choose to work for you is entirely your decision.”

  “Ok,” replied Stargold. “In that case it would be my honor and privilege to serve as your police commissioner.”

  McMasters and Stargold shook hands, consummating the deal.

  “Gentlemen, I do believe this calls for a cigar,” said Murphy, who walked over to the desk and opened a wooden humidor. He removed three cigars, clipping the ends and handing one to each man. After lighting them they enjoyed a moment of light banter and laughs, the stress of the decision making dissipated with each puff.

  “Tomorrow we’ll have to sit down with the transition team, along with the mayor’s representatives, and begin to get things rolling.”

  “I’ll notify Washington tomorrow that I’ll be retiring in January.

  “Tippi Fisher is going to be Deputy Mayor for Operations. Officially, her office will be the go to for the day-to-day operational stuff, but I expect direct communications on anything that you consider important. I am a firm believer in the open door policy.”

  “I understand completely.”

  “Have you given any thought to what changes you might be making?”

  “Honestly, I haven’t really allowed myself to think about it. I don’t think I wanted to jinx anything.”

  “Well I certainly appreciate that, Rich.”

  “Try to remember that when the press is beating you up.”

  “Point taken,” McMasters said. “That being said, is there anyone on your short list?”

  “Yeah, actually there is,” Stargold replied. “But getting him to sign on might take more than a little bit of work.”

  “You can always invite him out and I’ll put on an all-out charm offensive.”

  “Oh I think he’ll do it,” Ric
h said. “What I’m going to owe him is an entirely different story.”

  “Is he worth it?”

  “He’s worth more.”

  “Then let me give you a word of advice. If you hold him in that high a regard, then don’t accept no for answer. It’s how I felt about you from the beginning. I never had any question that on January 1st I’d be swearing you in as my police commissioner.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  “Well, now that we have that resolved gentlemen, I guess it’s time to go out and celebrate.”

  “After you, sir,” said Rich.

  The three men exited the room and rejoined the party. Stargold made his way over to where Mary stood talking to Jill. The two women looked over at him as he approached.

  “Well, did Alan get his way?” Jill asked.

  “I don’t think there was ever much doubt,” Rich said with a smile.

  “Congratulations, Rich,” Jill said. “You’ll make a great police commissioner.”

  “I hope so. I can’t imagine anything more daunting from a law enforcement perspective.”

  “Do what Alan does, surround yourself with the best people you can find and you’ll breeze through it.”

  “You sound like Alan now.”

  “I taught him everything he knows,” Jill said with a laugh.

  “Behind every great man is an even greater woman,” replied Rich.

  Jill looked over at Mary. “Oh I see you’ve taught him too.”

  “It hasn’t always been easy,” Mary said.

  “It never is, Mary,” Jill replied. “Well, I guess I better rejoin Alan. We’re going to have to go down to the ballroom and thank the troops.”

  “Have fun,” Mary said.

  “I will, dear. I’ll call you later in the week. We can go and get lunch.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  “You take care of her, Rich. She’s a real gem.”

  “Oh, that I know.”

  Jill turned and walked over to where her husband stood. A moment later Tom Murphy ushered them toward the door and they made their way to the ballroom where the supporters were now celebrating the election win.

  “You ok?” Mary asked.

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” Rich responded. “Just never really thought this day would come, to be honest.”

  “You know you can do this, Rich. You’re smart; your people have always respected you, and you know how to get things done.”

  “That’s not the hard part.”

  “He’ll say yes.”

  “What makes you so sure?”

  “Because I know things,” Mary replied.

  “Oh really, and what, pray tell, do you know?”

  “His boss’ phone number.”

  Rich looked at her quizzically, “His boss’ phone number?”

  Mary took out her cell phone, scrolled through the address book and selected a name. She held the phone up for her husband to see.

  Rich smiled as he read the name on the screen. “Of course, why didn’t I think of that?”

  “If you want things done, you go straight to the top.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Southampton, Suffolk County, N.Y.

  Wednesday, November 7th, 2012 – 1:23 p.m.

  Melody glanced down at the cell phone buzzing on her desk and checked the display. She picked it up and hit the button to connect the call.

  “Hi, Mary.”

  “Hey, Mel, how’s everything going?”

  “Oh the usual, I’m up to my butt in alligators. What are you doing?”

  “I had to go to a luncheon out in Manorville.”

  “Oh sounds fun,” Melody said sarcastically.

  “Oh yeah, boat loads. I just thought I’d check and see if you were busy.”

  “No,” she replied. “Certainly nothing that can’t wait. What’s on your mind?”

  “I need your help on a couple of things, would you mind if I popped in?”

  “Of course not, come on over. I’ll let them know you are coming and have some coffee ready.”

  “Great, I really appreciate it. I’ll see you in a little bit.”

  A half hour later Mary Stargold pulled her black Ford Explorer up to the wrought iron gate.

  “Can I help you?” said a voice over the intercom system.

  “Mary Stargold.”

  “Yes, ma’am, please watch the gate.”

  After the gate had opened, Mary proceeded up the driveway toward the house. Along the way she passed a security officer, in black BDU’s, who was patrolling the grounds with a Belgian Malinois.

  After the attack, life in the house had changed dramatically. It had not been easy for Melody and Genevieve to acclimate, but they understood the need. Eventually they became accustomed to the new normal for them, albeit grudgingly.

  Melody was waiting at the front door as the car pulled into the courtyard. The two women had become fast friends, after they had first been introduced the previous May.

  “Hey, girl,” Melody said as Mary stepped out of the truck.

  “Ugh, now I know why I hate coming out to Long Island,” Mary replied in an exasperated tone. “Traffic sucks.”

  “Be glad it’s November and not July.”

  “You have to be a special kind of insane to live here during the summer.”

  Mary walked up the steps and hugged Melody.

  “Come on in, and take a load off.”

  The two women stepped inside as the security officer closed the door behind them. They were never more than a few feet away at any given time.

  “So how was your luncheon?”

  “It was boring, if you want to know, but rarely have I attended a fun one. What ever happened to people speaking honestly about stuff, instead of all this flowery crap that means absolutely nothing?”

  “I don’t know. No one wants to offend anyone anymore so they don’t really say anything important or substantive.”

  Melody sat down on the couch as Mary took the chair opposite her.

  “So what’s on your mind?”

  “Well, you heard McMasters won the election right?”

  “Yes, did Rich take the job?”

  “Yeah he did.”

  “That is great. I know James is going to be so glad to hear that. He really believes that Rich is going to make a fantastic police commissioner.”

  “Unfortunately, now we have the issue of moving.”

  “Why?”

  “Residency requirement, the police commissioner has to live within the five boroughs or the adjoining counties. But realistically we need to find something in Manhattan.”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “They spring that on you after you say yes apparently. That is one of the reasons I wanted to talk to you. Do you know anyone in real estate in the city that might be able to help us in a hurry?”

  “Aw, honey I can do you guys one better. I have an apartment in Battery Park City that isn’t being used; you guys are more than welcome to it.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Absolutely, it’s a corporate apartment we use for guests visiting the city. But honestly I can’t tell you the last time we used it. I just could never seem to let it go.”

  “I don’t know what to say, Melody.”

  “Oh please, don’t say anything. You, Rich and the girls are family. I think you’ll really like it. The apartment has three bedrooms, so the girls can each have their own space.”

  “I think I’m in shock.”

  “Good, I’ll have Gen get you the keys. You and Rich can take a look at it. If it will work for you, move in.”

  “Thank you so much.”

  “My pleasure,” Melody said. “What else did you need to talk about?”

  “This might be a little more difficult for you to arrange.”

  “Hey, I’m on a roll, hit me with your best shot.”

  Mary picked up the coffee cup and took a drink.

  “How’s James doing?”

&
nbsp; Melody looked at Mary quizzically. “James? He’s doing fine. I wish sometimes he would back off this quest he’s gotten himself caught up in, trying to find Banning.”

  “Are they making any progress?”

  “Not really. It’s like he just fell off the face of the earth and I’m fine with that. I know that James is driven to finding him, but honestly, I would feel more secure just having him here with me, instead of all the security in the house.”

  “What if I told you I might have an answer to that?”

  “Oh really?” Melody said. “Then I’m all ears.”

  “When Rich agreed to take the job he said he would do it only if he had carte blanche to bring in his own people. They agreed and now Rich wants to begin that process.”

  “What are you getting at?”

  “Rich wants James as his number two.”

  Melody took that in and began to digest it. She knew that even though he had made a name for himself in the private sector; there was a part of him that missed police work. But he missed the street work, not the paperwork.

  “Oh boy,” she said pursing her lips together and let out a soft whistle. “Did I mention that the apartment also has three bathrooms?”

  Mary let out a laugh. “Nice segue.”

  “You caught that huh?” Melody asked. “But in all seriousness, I think it would be great. The trick is getting him to see things the same way.”

  “Do you think it’s possible?”

  “Oh, honey, you know that when a woman puts her mind to something, anything is possible.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that.”

  “I’ll tell you what; let me have a few days to work on James and see where I get. Why don’t you bring Rich and the girls out this weekend? Come out Saturday for dinner and stay the night.”

  “Thanks, Melody, for everything.”

  “Don’t thank me now,” Melody said. “Thank me when he says yes.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Midtown Manhattan, N.Y.

  Friday, November 9th, 2012 – 1:57 p.m.

  The man reached up, removed one of the backpacks from the rack and examined it. It was constructed of a fashionable bluish gray colored ripstop nylon material, and featured reinforced seams that were made of a high density rubber. They would certainly be able to handle the load and then some. He removed four more before he noticed the sign above the display rack that indicated they were on sale.