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Hey, This is the NYPD 82nd Precinct – Part 01

The Daily Road

July 10, 1930, Morning Edition, Page 18

Manhattan Apartment Information

No Vacancies Today!

Chapter 5: Hey, This is the NYPD 82nd Precinct

NYPD 82nd precinct. Lunchtime.

An old red-brick building stood on the corner, covered in vines, an oval three-story structure dating back to before the Civil War.

The first floor was spacious, but the second was a stark contrast. The ceiling was uncomfortably low, and the heat was sweltering. Bare pipes snaked around dirty concrete walls layered with grease and cigarette tar. Wanted posters were plastered all over a wooden board, each face scribbled over with sunglasses, beards, tears, and words on foreheads.

On the second floor, young officers in black uniforms and caps were slacking off. At one corner desk, a young man in a tweed three-piece suit lay sprawled out, using a teddy bear as a pillow. At another desk, a uniformed officer was slumped backward over his chair, also fast asleep.

“Biscuits are good, but I’m so full,” one mumbled.

“Stuffed from the bribe.”

“A happy life.”

Four officers were hunched over at the square desk in the center, stuffing their faces with mountains of doughnuts from paper plates while engrossed in a game of poker. They were gambling small change, looking quite serious. The desk phone rang, but no one seemed eager to answer it.

One officer sitting in the corner tossed a baseball to another officer across the room. “Let’s play catch,” he said. The other nodded and, sitting in a rolling chair, slid across the floor to catch it.

After a few tries, he failed to catch it. The ball fell onto the poker table, knocking over a desk lamp.

“Hey, watch it!” came a half-hearted protest.

“Stop fooling around and answer the phone.”

Finally, someone picked up the phone, exchanged a few words, and hung up quickly.

“Man, whether you work hard or not,” one officer interrupted his poker game, grumbling into his NYPD mug of coffee. “Pay stays the same. Get too motivated, and you might get shot by a gang.”

“Damn right!”

“There’s only one eager beaver who does extra stuff but never gets shot. An incredibly lucky idiot. The Undying Lad.”

He pointed at the odd young man in the tweed suit with the teddy bear, snoozing in the corner. The officer opposite nodded in agreement.

The officer playing catch sighed. “I’m on duty until five. Gotta kill time until then.”

He started spinning in the room in his rolling chair. He picked up the newspaper that the tweed-suited man had been reading before he fell asleep and began reading it.

An older man in a white apron climbed up to the second floor, delivering catfish fried noodles, crayfish spring rolls, and bone-in fried pork.

“Today’s bribe,” he said. “Thanks for keeping the peace in the city.”

The officers eagerly reached for the food.

“Nice!”

“The bribe lunches here are extraordinarily good.”

An officer looked up from his newspaper. “Wow!”

After some time, someone said, “What is it? Munch, munch.”

“This article talks about the powerful and invincible Wonder Girl.”

The officers lifted their heads.

“Ah!”

“She is.”

“She’s damn amazing.”

“During last night’s incident, the elevator was out of order, but she flew up to the top floor and saved everyone.”

“And she solved the case. She tossed a coin and knocked down the heinous criminal.”

“I heard her Chinese partner disarmed the bomb and helped with evacuations.”

“Exactly. Then, she flew into the night sky.”

They all looked up at the low ceiling. One person snapped their fingers.

“And she disappeared!”

Laughter filled the room.

“So cool!”

“Cities in the new world are full of unsolved cases. Now’s the time for Wonder Girl to step in.”

“I hope she shows up again. Wonder Girl, a beautiful, smart defender of justice. But where could she be now?”

“Who knows?”

They fell silent for a moment, gazing at the old ceiling fan rattling away.

“Evening edition!”

A boy around ten sprinted up to the second floor. He was skinny, with a dirty face and clothes. He eyed the pile of takeout food enviously as he stacked the evening papers on the desk. When one officer said, “Take some,” he grinned joyfully, stuffing spring rolls and pork into his pockets until they bulged.

“You sure eat like a horse, kid,” one officer teased.

“Nah, sir. This is for my mom and little sisters.”

“That so? Take these too, then.” He handed over a big bag of biscuits from the sleeping officer’s desk, then said, “Let’s play catch.”

The boy shrugged and played along, tossing and catching the ball for a while.

Another officer by the window murmured, “Wonder Girl really pulled off something incredible last night, then just vanished. I wonder what she’s up to now.”

The boy, gnawing on a pork bone between throws of the ball, turned. “She’s probably out there saving the world again.” His eyes lit up. “Whenever there’s trouble—gangs, murders, thefts—she’s the one we count on.”

“Absolutely,” the officer agreed. He pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and took a drag. Narrowing his eyes, he blew out smoke as he watched cars, carriages, and pedestrians pass by under the hot sky.

“Hey, sir, what did this girl do?”

The boy’s voice caught his attention. There were five cells beyond the wide-open iron door. Thick iron bars gleamed in black.

“You really like peeking into these cells, huh? Don’t go staring at bad grown-ups like that. Your mom wouldn’t approve,” the officer said, approaching. “So, today…”

Together, they peered inside. In the nearest cell sat a petite, ethereally beautiful girl with silver hair streaked in gold, spreading out like a peacock’s feathers. She was wearing a soft pink fabric. In the dim, dingy space, she seemed to glow from within, enveloped in some mysterious power.

The boy stared transfixed, his eyes wide. “She looks like the Virgin Mary in the church painting. No, even more beautiful!” Fearfully, he asked, “Who are you exactly?”

“This one’s a dumpling thief. Caught red-handed at the avenue on East Village.”

“What? Stealing buns? Her?” The boy recoiled incredulously. “Unbelievable! That’s a serious crime.”

The officer chuckled. “Indeed.”

Startled, Victorique raised her head. The image of the haloed Virgin Mary seemed to come alive.

The officer jerked his chin at the next cell. “I think this one was a traffic violation? Seriously, what a lawless place. The whole city’s crawling with gangsters, thieves, murderers. We’ve got our hands full every day. Hmm?”

The boy gripped the iron bars with dirty hands, staring at Victorique. “How could you steal other people’s food? What a bitch.” He sounded disappointed. “If you knew how much work the person put into making those dumplings, you’d never do something like that. If you ask me, this person is the world criminal in all of Manhattan.”

Victorique’s small shoulders shook. Her eyes widened to their fullest, looking up at the boy in utter shock.

Leaning against the iron bars, the officer ruffled the boy’s hair, chuckling. “True that.”

The boy tapped the iron bars, looking disheartened, as if disillusioned with the world. “There’s a girl out there solving mysteries, helping people like a superhero, and then over here there’s a despicable person stealing dumplings. The world sure is complex.”

Victorique regarded the boy with an increasingly bewildered expression.

Once more the boy glanced at the beautiful yet intimidating dumpling thief. Then, he peeked into the next cell and recoiled in horror.

“Whoa! What a terrifying face.”

He quickly backed away from the cell, dashed through the swinging doors, and sprinted down the stairs.

“Uh, see you later! Thanks a lot!” the boy said.

“Thank you too!”

“Don’t grow up to be a criminal.”

“I look at the cells here every day. That’s not happening!”

The officers playing poker lifted their heads.

“He’s right.”

“Makes sense.”

“Yup.”

“He’s got a good head on his shoulders.”

Laughter filled the second floor.

Once again, the phone rang, but no one was eager to answer it.