Report to the Commissioner
REPORT TO THE COMMISSIONER
Copyright
Copyright © 1972 by James Mills, Inc.
All rights reserved.
Bibliographical Note
This Dover edition, first published in 2019, is an unabridged republication of the work originally published by Farrar, Straus and Giroux, New York, in 1972.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Mills, James, 1932– author.
Title: Report to the commissioner / James Mills.
Description: Dover edition. | Mineola, New York: Dover Publications, Inc., 2019. | “This Dover edition, first published in 2019, is an unabridged republication of the work originally published by Farrar, Straus and Giroux, New York, in 1972”— Title page verso.
Identifiers: LCCN 2019011196| ISBN 9780486839165 | ISBN 0486839168
Subjects: LCSH: New York (NY). Police Department—Fiction.| Police internal investigation—Fiction.
Classification: LCC PS3563.I423 R47 2019 | DDC 813/.54—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2019011196
Manufactured in the United States by LSC Communications 83916801
www.doverpublications.com
2019
Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?
—Juvenal, Satires
Some of the crimes we punish most vigorously cannot be found in the penal code.
—The Hon. Ernest K. Shaplen, former Presiding Justice, First Department, New York State Appellate Division, commenting on the Lockley-Butler case
Acknowledgments
I am indebted to Det. Frank Batten, who first brought this report to light, and to the several other New York City detectives who read it and support its authenticity.
Preface
For weeks detectives kept telling me about Patricia Butler. I was writing a book about a Black Panther conspiracy trial, and a lot of detectives I knew came into a restaurant called Mario’s across the street from the courthouse. They ate and sat around the bar and talked about the trial, and then sooner or later one of them, usually Frank Batten, was sure to turn to me and say for the hundredth time, “You know, you really ought to do a story about Patty Butler.”
Batten was a nervous man, serious and intense. A sergeant who had ridden with him in a radio car when they got out of the police academy said everyone in the precinct wanted to work with him because he’d never take anything. If any grateful citizen started handing out cigars or whiskey, Batten took nothing. It all went to the partner.
At Mario’s, Batten was a loner. Not from his own choice. The other detectives were too cautious to get friendly with him. They talked to him and drank with him, but if they wanted to gossip or discuss their cases they were careful to do it somewhere else. Batten had been in the Internal Affairs Division (IAD), and though his present assignment was the Narcotics Bureau, no one was that sure that he wasn’t still in the IAD. Cops in the IAD are called “shoeflies” and their job, put bluntly, is to lock up other cops. They’re an internal security unit, and they aren’t liked. Any hint that a cop is living above his income, or sleeping with his neighbor’s wife, or getting too chummy with the wrong people, and the shoeflies descend with wiretaps, tails, interviews with the friends and family. Cops want no part of anyone who is, has been, or is likely to be associated with the IAD. So they were polite to Batten, but distant.
Except when he mentioned Patty Butler. Then they fell in with him, and no one could say enough nice things about her. They liked her because she was young and friendly and pretty, and because she was a very good detective. She was a narcotics undercover, and most of the detectives who knew her were, or had been, in the Narcotics Bureau and had seen her work. She had a lot of fans.
The assistant district attorney in charge of narcotics cases arranged for me to meet her, and later I spent a month interviewing her for a magazine. The article was never published. I am not sure why. I know the Police Department had been against it from the start, giving their authorization for Butler’s cooperation only after long negotiations. Perhaps the police opposition was enough to dull the magazine’s enthusiasm. Or maybe the editors read the article and just simply didn’t like it. In any case, it sat in a file drawer for six months, and then one day I picked up a copy of the Daily News and found out she was dead. Another detective named Lockley had shot her to death in a Times Square loft, and then died himself a short time later. Two months after that, Frank Batten called me on the phone. He asked if he could meet me at Mario’s.
After Butler was killed, the detective division went through a rather extensive reorganization. Harold Perna, an assistant chief inspector in charge of the Narcotics Bureau, retired under pressure, and Capt. John D’Angelo, in charge of all undercovers, was suspended. The Narcotics Bureau itself was virtually emptied out. Almost every man in it was either reassigned or retired. Batten, offered a choice between a desk job in the Commissioner’s office or retirement, chose retirement. He had twenty-two years in the job, liked the work, and resented being forced out.
Batten came into Mario’s carrying one of those brown cardboard legal folders that tie up with string. We sat down at a back table and after half an hour of small talk I asked him what was in the folder. He said he’d found something he wanted to give me. He said he thought that since I had written the story about Pat Butler, maybe I’d be interested in writing another story about her and the detective who killed her, and what had really happened to them. He said the whole story was in the folder. He was nervous and very formal. He handed over the folder, and then he said goodbye, very self-consciously, and shook my hand and walked out.
The folder contained six seven-inch reels of recording tape, and a stack of papers. The papers included transcripts of the tapes, plus copies of Police Department documents pertaining to the Butler homicide and the subsequent investigation. There was also a copy of my article on Butler.
I listened to the tapes, checked them against the transcripts, and decided to collect everything, almost exactly as it was handed to me, into a book. I made no deletions, changed no names. My only contribution was to dovetail the various transcribed interviews into a chronological sequence, identifying alternating speakers by name in brackets at the top of the page each time they appear. Also, I have preceded the report with a glossary of police terms that may be unfamiliar to the reader.
I have wondered, as the reader might, why Frank Batten gave me the report. Perhaps he acted out of bitterness at his forced retirement, perhaps out of affection for Pat Butler and a desire to have the story told. In any case, he voiced no restrictions and said nothing about concealing the report’s source.
Glossary
A&R man Assault and robbery specialist, a mugger
angel off To arrest drug users emerging from a selling location, while the dealer is left temporarily undisturbed
aviator A police superior with no steady assignment who “flies” from job to job filling in for others of his rank who are ill or on vacation
block A group of detectives, usually four, working the same shift in the same squad
BOSS Also, Bossy. Bureau of Special Services (recently redesignated Special Services Division). A unit monitoring the activities of labor groups and political organizations, often by infiltration. Other than the Narcotics Bureau, the only unit employing undercovers
chipping Using heroin occasionally, not yet addicted
CIB Central Intelligence Bureau. Maintains background files on known criminals
ESD Emergency Service Division
flopped Demoted, as from the detective division to uniformed patrolman
hook An influential friend within the department who can be helpful in securing promotion or fav
ored assignments
IAD Internal Affairs Division (formerly, Police Commissioner’s Confidential Investigating Unit). An internal-security unit charged with investigating complaints against police officers
KG Known gambler, files on whom are maintained at the precinct level
MOF Member of the force
Murphy To pose as a pimp, collect the money in advance, and disappear without providing a girl
PC Police Commissioner
pickup collar An arrest (usually for a drug, morals, or gambling offense) made spontaneously, not as the result of an investigation. Pickup collars are most frequently made by plainclothesmen (patrolmen in civilian clothes), not by detectives
POSNY People of the State of New York
pros A prostitute
SAC Single Agent Contact. A confidential security system introduced in the early 1960s when the Police Department began to infiltrate black officers into black political groups. Since then, the system has been employed routinely in a variety of cases where politics or the availability of large sums of money gives cause for questioning the loyalty of an undercover. An undercover who has been “SACed” is told that his only contact with the department will be an officer meeting him at a specified address at specified times. He is led to believe that his contact’s office is used for several undercovers in that area. It is assumed that if he changes sides and co-
operates with the subjects of the investigation, his first act will be to betray his contact point. The individuals under investigation will then watch the contact point to determine the identities of other undercovers. In fact, the contact point is used only for that particular undercover, and if it is found to be under surveillance, the undercover is known to have been exposed
shoefly An officer working for the IAD
Signal 13 A radio code designating an officer in need of assistance, also known as an “Assist Patrolman.” The highest priority radio call. All units in the area respond
snowflake Also, flake. To place incriminating evidence (drugs, betting slips, a weapon) on a suspect, as if the evidence had fallen upon him like a snowflake
swing Days off
the Tombs The Manhattan House of Detention for Men
toss To search
REPORT TO THE COMMISSIONER
The Report
Forms
1.Unusual Occurrence Report
2.Complaint Report
3.Supplementary Complaint Report (Joseph Eagen)
4.Supplementary Complaint Report (Ballistics)
5.Arrest Report
6.Modus Operandi and Pedigree Report (front and back)
Interviews and Other Matter
1.Det. Bo Lockley
2.Det. Richard Blackstone (Crunch)
3.Magazine article concerning Det. Butler
4.Lt. Phillip Hanson
5.CIB background on Thomas Henderson (the Stick)
6.ADA statement from Det. Lockley
7.Psychiatric evaluation of Det. Lockley
8.Observation sheet the day of Det. Lockley’s death
LOCKLEY
Following is the transcription of a tape-recorded statement taken July 5, 1971, from Det. Bo Lockley, Shield 9735, at office of Dr. J. Melton, Prison Ward, Psychiatric Division, Bellevue Hospital, New York, N.Y.
PRESENT: Lt. William Lyon,
Internal Affairs Division
Sgt. Lawrence Abramson,
Internal Affairs Division
Det. Bo Lockley
[ LOCKLEY 1 ]
Q: Now, just for the record, my name is William Lyon. I am a lieutenant in the Internal Affairs Division. And you are . . .
A: (No response)
Q: Det. Lockley, I just want to get your name on the record.
A: (No response)
Q: Will you say your name, please?
A: (No response)
Q: Lockley, I know you’ve been through a lot, that it’s been very upsetting. But you’ve already discussed it with other people, and the things I want to talk about are very different from the things the other detectives have asked you. We have to start somewhere, and I’d appreciate it if you’d just tell me your name. Just say it. You don’t even have to look up.
A: (No response)
SGT. ABRAMSON: Look, Lockley, the lieutenant’s being very nice. It won’t take long, what he wants to know. There isn’t anything to hide. Everyone’s been very cooperative. And they’re very sympathetic about you. Your father—
A: You . . . (inaudible)
LT. LYON: What? I didn’t hear you.
A: (Shouting) You son of a—
Q: Lockley!
SGT. ABRAMSON: Lieutenant, he’s—
(Inaudible voices. Crashing sounds. Scuffling.)
TAPE ENDS
LOCKLEY
Following is the transcription of a tape-recorded statement taken July 6, 1971, from Det. Bo Lockley, Shield 9735, at office of Dr. J. Melton, Prison Ward, Psychiatric Division, Bellevue Hospital, New York, N.Y.
PRESENT: Capt. Henry Strichter,
Internal Affairs Division
Det. Bo Lockley
[ LOCKLEY 2 ]
Q: How are you feeling?
A: Not bad.
Q: That’s one of the best I’ve ever seen.
A: It feels like one of the best. How’s Lt. Lyon?
Q: He’ll live.
A: I’m sorry about all of that. I just exploded. You know, you keep hearing the same questions over and over and over and over and over and then he started in with my father, and I had to make him stop. I felt like I had to do something to keep from flying apart.
Q: He knows that. He said he knew he was wrong the way he went at it. He’s afraid the Commissioner will find out. The Commissioner is about out of patience, and when he loses his patience, the earth trembles and splits.
A: I have to admit, they didn’t seem too cool.
Q: Frankly, I think the way they handled their interview was not inconsistent with other events in your recent past.
A: You sure you want that on the tape?
Q: It doesn’t matter. No one will hear it or read it except me and maybe the Commissioner. So we can both be frank. It’s not as if you had a career to protect. And I’m retiring in four months.
A: How do you happen to be in the IAD anyway? I wouldn’t have thought that would be the sort of thing you’d like. Tailing cops, putting wires in on cops.
Q: I had a disagreement at the academy and the PC offered me this. We’ve been friends a long time. It was only for seven months, so I took it. And it’s interesting. I’ve developed a taste for rotten apples. I didn’t mean . . .
A: I know. It’s all right. Do you miss teaching?
Q: I do. I liked meeting the kids coming in. And I enjoyed the talks we used to have. Did you go ahead with Mensa?
A: I did, and then I quit. Too many bus drivers feeding their egos on the professors, and the professors marveling at how intelligent they’re making bus drivers these days. The whole thing was a little sick.
Q: I suppose so. Well, we’d better get down to it.
A: Uh-huh.
Q: I hate to repeat my colleagues, but, as Lyon said, for the record, I am Capt. Henry Strichter of the Internal Affairs Division. And your name is . . .
A: Bo Lockley, detective third grade, assigned to the 16th squad. Or anyway, I was.
Q: You know, of course, that you don’t have to talk to me or answer my questions, all that. I’m sure you know all that . . .
A: I’ve made that speech once or twice myself. Not very often, but . . .
Q: And you are free to leave, to walk out, any time you want to.
A: Well, not exactly.
Q: I mean out of this office.
A: Yes. I understand. It’s all right.
Q: And now also for the record I should say that we already know each other. Isn’t that right?
A: Yes, that’s right.
Q: We met . . .
A: At the police academy. You taught a class i
n evidence. We talked together a few times. Listen, excuse me, I don’t want to interrupt, but I have to ask something.
Q: Of course.
A: Really, I mean—well, why are you here? What could you possibly have to ask? You know I’ve been questioned by the DA’s office. I’ve told it all. So what . . . There isn’t any . . .
Q: I know that. I know that. And I’ve read the statement. But this is something else. This is for the Commissioner.
A: Then what is he interested in? I’ve been questioned, Captain, until it’s coming out my ears, and I’ve about had it. I think maybe I’m in just the right place, right here, and I mean, what does he want to know? What is there? I fired shots, and Butler is dead, and I’ve gone over it to detectives and the DA and doctors, and what the hell does the Commissioner want from me? What does he want to know?
Q: Relax. Calm down. He knows there’s more to this case than the superficial. This is the biggest scandal . . .
A: I’ve seen the papers.
Q: Well, the department is in more trouble than you are.
A: Really? Up for the rest of its natural life?
Q: No, Bo. But in a lot of trouble, believe me. People are using this, and they’ll go a long way with it. The Commissioner wants to know as much as he can about what happened to you so he can reach some understanding of how you got, or how you were put, into this mess. What mistakes the department made, and why they were made. But he has to know—
A: Okay. Ask.
Q: Well, how old are you?
A: Twenty-two.
Q: That’s pretty young for a detective.
A: I’m the youngest detective in the department.
Q: How did that—well, first of all, why did you join the Police Department?
A: My father—do you want to know it all? Some of it you’ve already heard.
Q: Yes. Just go ahead and tell it.
A: Well, my father, as you know, is a detective, and he wanted me to be a detective. And so I joined the Police Department and because . . .