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gather or for someone to protest his actions. Neri would get into the patrol car and his
partner would zoom it away. Of course once in a while there would be a real hard case
who wanted to fight and might even pull a knife. These were truly unfortunate people.
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Neri would, with awesome, quick ferocity, beat them bloody and throw them into the
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patrol car. They would be put under arrest and charged with assaulting an officer. But
usually their case would have to wait until they were discharged from the hospital.
Eventually Neri was transferred to the beat that held the United Nations building area,
mainly because he had not shown his precinct sergeant the proper respect. The United
Nations people with their diplomatic immunity parked their limousines all over the
streets without regard to police regulations. Neri complained to the precinct and was
told not to make waves, to just ignore it. But one night there was a whole side street that
was impassable because of the carelessly parked autos. It was after midnight, so Neri
took his huge flashlight from the patrol cat and went down the street smashing
windshields to smithereens. It was not easy, even for high-ranking diplomats, to get the
windshields repaired in less than a few days. Protests poured into the police precinct
station house demanding protection against this vandalism. After a week of windshield
smashing the truth gradually hit somebody about what was actually happening and
Albert Neri was transferred to Harlem.
One Sunday shortly afterward, Neri took his wife to visit his widowed sister in Brooklyn.
Albert Neri had the fierce protective affection for his sister common to all Sicilians and
he always visited her at least once every couple of months to make sure she was all
right. She was much older than he was and had a son who was twenty. This son,
Thomas, without a father's hand, was giving trouble. He had gotten into a few minor
scrapes, was running a little wild. Neri had once used his contacts on the police force to
keep the youth from being charged with larceny. On that occasion he had kept his anger
in check but had given his nephew warning. "Tommy, you make my sister cry over you
and I'll straighten you out myself." It was intended as a friendly pally-uncle warning, not
really as a threat. But even though Tommy was the toughest kid in that tough Brooklyn
neighborhood, he was afraid of his Uncle Al.
On this particular visit Tommy had come in very late Saturday night and was still
sleeping in his room. His mother went to wake him, telling him to get dressed so that he
could eat Sunday dinner with his uncle and aunt. The boy's voice came harshly through
the partly opened door, "I don't give a shit, let me sleep," and his mother came back out
into the kitchen smiling apologetically.
So they had to eat their dinner without him. Neri asked his sister if Tommy was giving
her any real trouble and she shook her head.
Neri and his wife were about to leave when Tommy finally got up. He barely grumbled
a hello and went into the kitchen. Finally he yelled in to his mother, "Hey, Ma, how about
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cooking me something to eat?" But it was not a request. It was the spoiled complaint of
an indulged child.
His mother said shrilly, "Get up when it's dinnertime and then you can eat. I'm not
going to cook again for you."
It was the sort of little ugly scene that was fairly commonplace, but Tommy still a little
irritable from his slumber made a mistake. "Ah, fuck you and your nagging, I'll go out
and eat." As soon as he said it he regretted it.
His Uncle Al was on him like a cat on a mouse. Not so much for the insult to his sister
this particular day but because it was obvious that he often talked to his mother in such
a fashion when they were alone. Tommy never dared say such a thing in front of her
brother. This particular Sunday he had just been careless. To his misfortune.
Before the frightened eyes of the two women, Al Neri gave his nephew a merciless,
careful, physical beating. At first the youth made an attempt at self-defense but soon
gave that up and begged for mercy. Neri slapped his face until the lips were swollen and
bloody. He rocked the kid's head back and slammed him against the wall. He punched
him in the stomach, then got him prone on the floor and slapped his face into the carpet.
He told the two women to wait and made Tommy go down the street and get into his car.
There he put the fear of God into him. "If my sister ever tells me you talk like that to her
again, this beating will seem like kisses from a broad," he told Tommy. "I want to see
you straighten out. Now go up the house and tell my wife I'm waiting for her."
It was two months after this that Al Neri got back from a late shift on the force and