The Anderson Tapes (25 page)

O’NUSKA: Yes, sir.

FINEALLY: So do I. Call him and alert his driver.

3:01:26AM.

JAMESON: Lieutenant.

FINEALLY: Yes?

JAMESON: Car George Three is standing by on East Seventy-second Street.

FINEALLY: Tell them to proceed to five-three-six East Seventy-fourth Street. No siren. Get on the roof or any floor where they can see down onto five-three-five East Seventy-third Street. Tell them to report any activity A-sap. You got that?

JAMESON: Yes, sir.

O’NUSKA: Lieutenant, the inspector’s on his way. But he’s got to come in from Queens. It’ll be half an hour at least.

FINEALLY: All right. It may still be nothing. Better call the Two fifty-first and talk to the duty sergeant. Tell him what’s going on. Find out where his nearest beat men are. You better send three more cars.

Have them stand by on East Seventy-second Street. No sirens or lights. Tell the duty sergeant of the Two fifty-first that we’ll pull in two cars from Sector Harry to fill in. You take care of it. And we’ll keep him informed. Now let’s see—have we forgotten anything?

O’NUSKA: Tactical Patrol Force, sir?

FINEALLY: God bless you. But what have they got on for tonight? It’s a holiday weekend.

O’NUSKA: One bus. Twenty men. I put them on Blue Alert.

FINEALLY: Good. Good.

O’NUSKA: And I didn’t even go to college.

The following is an additional portion of the statement dictated to a representative of the District Attorney’s Office, County of New York, by Gerald Bingham, Jr., a minor, resident of Apartment 5A, 535 East Seventy-third Street, New York, New York, excerpted from recordings NYDA-#146-113A-113G, and as transcribed (NYDA-#146-113AT-113GT).

WITNESS: I estimated it was now approximately three in the morning.

I heard voices and sounds of activity coming from across the hall.

I judged that the thieves were ransacking Apartment Five B and would soon be into our apartment. This caused me some trepidation, as I felt certain they would discover the electronic equipment in the closet in my bedroom. However, I took comfort from the fact that it might be possible they would not recognize the nature of the equipment. They would not realize it was a shortwave transmitter. Perhaps I could convince them it was part of our hi-fi system.

In any event, you understand, although I felt some fear—I realized that my body was covered with perspiration—I did not really care what they did to me. They could not know I had used the equipment. And I did not really believe they would kill me. I felt they might hurt me if they recognized the equipment and thought I might have used it. But I am no stranger to pain, and the prospect did not alarm me unduly. But I was disturbed by the realization that they might hurt my mother and father.

However, all my fears were groundless. For reasons I did not comprehend at the time, they skipped our apartment completely.

The only man who came in was the tall, slender one who had removed my wheelchair and crutches earlier. He came in, stood alongside my bed and said, “Behaving yourself, boy?” I said, “Yes, sir.” As soon as I said it, I wondered why I called him Sir. I do not call my father Sir. But there was something about this masked man. I have thought a great deal about him since the events of that night, and I have decided that somehow—I don’t know quite how—he had an air and bearing of authority. Somehow, I don’t know how, he demanded respect.

In any event, he nodded and looked about. “Your room?” he asked me.

“Yes,” I said.

“All yours.” He nodded again. “When I was your age, I lived in a room not much bigger than this with my mammy and pappy and five brothers and sisters.”

“The late John F. Kennedy said that life is unfair,” I told him.

He laughed and said, “Yes, that is so. And anyone over the age of four who don’t realize it ain’t got much of a brain in him. What you want to be, boy?”

“A research scientist,” I said promptly. “Perhaps in medicine, perhaps in electronics, maybe in space technology. I haven’t decided yet.”

“A research scientist?” he asked, and by the way he said it, I knew he didn’t have a very clear idea of what that was. I was going to explain to him but then I thought better of it.

“A research scientist?” he repeated. “Is there money in it?” I told him there was, that I’d already had offers from two companies and that if you discovered something really important, you could become a multimillionaire. I don’t know why I was telling him these things except that he seemed genuinely interested. At least, that’s the impression I received.

“A multimillionaire,” he repeated. He said, “Mult-
eye
.” Then he looked around the room—at my books, my work table, the space maps I had pinned to the walls.

“I could—” he started to say, but then he stopped and didn’t go on.

“Sir?” I said.

“I could never understand any of this shit,” he said finally and laughed. Then he said, “You keep behaving yourself, y’hear?

We’ll be out of here soon. Try to get some sleep.” He turned around and walked out. I only saw him once after that, very briefly. I felt that if he… . I felt that maybe I could have been a good… . I felt that maybe he and I might… . I am afraid I am not being very precise. I do not know exactly what I felt at that moment.

Continuing excerpts from the twenty-four-hour tape, NYPDCC-31AUG-1SEP.

3:14:32AM.

O’NUSKA: Lieutenant, we have a report from Officer Meyer in car George Three. He got onto the roof of the building at five-three-six East Seventy-fourth Street. He says shades are drawn in all the apartments at five-three-five East Seventy-third. Lights are on in several apartments. The service staircase in the rear of the building is also lighted. There is an unshaded window on the service staircase at each floor. Meyer says he saw masked men carrying objects down the stairs and placing them in the truck parked in the service alley.

FINEALLY: How many men did he see?

O’NUSKA: He says at least five different men, maybe more.

FINEALLY: Five men? My God, what’s this going to be—the shoot-out at the O.K. Corral? Get the tactical squad moving. Red Alert. Tell them to park on Seventy-second near the river and wait further instructions. You got those three other cars?

O’NUSKA: Yes, sir. Standing by, within a block or so.

FINEALLY: Seal off East Seventy-third Street. Put one car across the street at East End Avenue and another at York Avenue.

O’NUSKA: Got it.

FINEALLY: Tell George Three to stay where they are. Send the third car around to join them.

O’NUSKA: Right.

FINEALLY: Let’s see now—there’s got to be tenants in there.

O’NUSKA: Yes, sir. It’s the holiday weekend and some of them’ll be gone, but there’s got to be someone—the super, the doorman, the kid who sent out the shortwave call. Others probably.

FINEALLY: Get me the duty sergeant at the Two fifty-first. You know who he is?

O’NUSKA: Yes, sir. He’s my brother.

FINEALLY: You kidding?

O’NUSKA: No, sir. He really is my brother.

FINEALLY: What kind of a precinct is it?

O’NUSKA: Very tight. Captain Delaney lives right next door in a converted brownstone. He’s in and out all the time, even when he’s not on duty.

FINEALLY: Don’t tell me that’s “Iron Balls” Delaney?

O’NUSKA: That’s the man.

FINEALLY: Well, well, well. Will wonders never cease? Get him for me, will you? We need a commander on the scene.

O’NUSKA: Right away, Lieutenant.

3:19:26AM.

DELANEY: I See… . What is your name?

FINEALLY: Lieutenant John K. Fineally, sir.

DELANEY: Lieutenant Fineally, I shall now repeat what you have told me. If I am incorrect in any detail, please do not interrupt but correct me when I have finished. Is that understood?

FINEALLY: Yes, sir.

DELANEY: You have reason to believe that a breaking and entering, and a burglary and/or armed robbery is presently taking place at five-three-five East Seventy-third Street. A minimum of five masked men have been observed removing objects from this residence and placing them in a truck presently located in the service alleyway alongside the apartment house. Four Sector George cars are presently in the area. One is blocking Seventy-third Street at East End Avenue, and one is blocking the street at York Avenue. Two cars with four officers are on Seventy-fourth Street, in the rear of the building in question. The duty sergeant of this precinct has alerted two patrolmen to stand by their telephones and await further instructions. The Tactical Patrol Force bus is presently on its way with a complement of twenty men, under Red Alert, and has been instructed to stand by on Seventy-second Street to await further orders. Inspector Walter Abrahamson has been alerted and is on his way to the scene of the suspected crime. I will proceed to the scene and take command of the forces at my disposal until such time as the inspector arrives. I will enter the premises with the forces at my disposal and, with proper care for the life and well-being of innocent bystanders, forestall the alleged thieves from escaping, place them under arrest, and recover the reportedly stolen objects. Is that correct in every detail?

FINEALLY: You’ve got it right, sir. In every detail.

DELANEY: Is a tape being made of this conversation, Lieutenant?

FINEALLY: Yes, sir, it is.

DELANEY: This is Captain Edward X. Delaney signing off. I am now departing to take command of the forces available to me at the scene of the reported crime.

[Lapse of six seconds.]

FINEALLY: Jesus Christ. I don’t believe it. I heard it but I don’t believe it. Were you listening to that, Sergeant?

O’NUSKA: Yes, sir.

FINEALLY: I’ve heard stories about that guy but I never believed them.

O’NUSKA: They’re all true. He’s had more commendations than I’ve had hangovers.

FINEALLY: I still don’t believe it. He’s something else again.

O’NUSKA: That’s what my brother says.

The following is a typed transcription (NYDA-#146121AT) from an original recording (NYDA-#146121A) made on 11 September, 1968, at Mother of Mercy Hospital, New York City. The witness is Gerald Bingham,
Sr
., resident of Apartment 5A, 535 East Seventy-third Street, New York, New York.

QUESTION: Glad to see you looking better, Mr. Bingham. How do you feel?

BINGHAM: Oh, I feel a lot better. The swelling is down, and I received some good news this morning. The doctors say I won’t lose the sight of my right eye. They say the sight may be slightly impaired, but I’ll be able to see out of it.

QUESTION: Mr. Bingham, I’m glad to hear that … real glad. I can imagine how you felt.

BINGHAM: Yes … well … you know… .

QUESTION: Mr. Bingham, there are just a few details in your previous statement we’d like to get cleared up—if you feel you’re up to it.

BINGHAM: Oh, yes. I feel fine. As a matter of fact, I welcome your visit. Very boring—just lying here.

QUESTION: I can imagine. Well, what we wanted to clear up was the period around three thirty on the morning of 1 September, 1968.

According to your previous statement, you were at that time in Apartment Four B with the other tenants and the doorman. You were being guarded by the man who struck you in the face and kicked you earlier in your own apartment. This man was carrying a weapon. Is that correct?

BINGHAM: Yes, that’s right.

QUESTION: Do you know anything about handguns, Mr. Bingham?

BINGHAM: Yes … a little. I served with the Marines in Korea.

QUESTION: Can you identify the weapon the man was carrying?

BINGHAM: It looked to me like a government issue Colt .45 automatic pistol of the 1917 series.

QUESTION: Are you certain?

BINGHAM: Fairly certain, yes. I had range training with a gun like that.

QUESTION: At the time in question—that is, three thirty on the morning of first September—what was your physical condition?

BINGHAM: You mean was I fully conscious and alert?

QUESTION: Well … yes. Were you?

BINGHAM: No. My eye was quite painful, and I was getting this throbbing ache from where he had kicked me. They had put me on the couch in Mrs. Hathway’s living room—it was really a Victorian love seat covered with red velvet. My wife was holding a cold, wet towel to my eye, and Dr. Rubicoff from downstairs was helping also. I think I was a little hazy at the time. Perhaps I was in mild shock. You know, it was the first time in my life I had been struck in anger. I mean, it was the first time I had ever been physically assaulted. It was a very unsettling experience.

QUESTION: Yes, Mr. Bingham, I know.

BINGHAM: The idea that a man I didn’t know had struck me and injured me, and then had kicked me … to tell you the truth, I felt so ashamed of myself. I know this was probably a strange reaction to have, but that’s the way I felt.

QUESTION: You were ashamed?

BINGHAM: Yes. That’s the feeling I had.

QUESTION: But why should you feel ashamed? You had done all you could—which was, incidentally, much more than many other men would have done. You reacted very quickly. You tried to defend your family. There was no reason why you should have been ashamed of yourself.

BINGHAM: Well, that’s the way I felt. Perhaps it was because the man with the gun treated me—and the others, too—with such utter, brutal contempt. The way he waved that gun around. The way he laughed. I could see he was enjoying it. He shoved us around.

When he wanted the doorman to get away from the window, he didn’t tell him to get away; he shoved him so that poor Tim O’Leary fell down. Then the man laughed again. I think I was afraid of him. Maybe that’s why I felt ashamed.

QUESTION: The man was threatening you with a loaded gun. There was good reason to be frightened.

BINGHAM: Well … I don’t know. I was in action in Korea. Small-scale infantry action. I was frightened then, too, but I wasn’t ashamed.

There’s a difference but it’s hard to explain. I knew this man was very sick and very brutal and very dangerous.

QUESTION: Well, let’s drop that and get on… . Now, you said that at about three thirty—maybe a little later—four of the others came in and.moved all of you to Apartment Four A across the hall.