Case of the Picture

Twenty-three things, Sergeant Cline. Where's it? Thirty-three sixty-one? How was he shot? How many hold up men? Just one. You're in the muster room at the twenty-first precinct. The nerve center. A call is coming through.

He went. You will follow the action taken pursuant to that call from now until the final report is written in the one twenty-four room at the twenty-first precinct. everything. All right, you just stay there. Yes, that's right. Just stay there. You'll have assistance immediately. Yes, right away.

Precinct. Thought when you transcribe by Plymouth with an invitation for you to see the big, bright, beautiful new 1954 Plymouth coming Thursday. Twenty-first precinct, just lines on a map of the city of New York. Most of 173,000 people wedged into the 9.10th of a square mile between in Fifth Avenue in the East River,

wouldn't know if you asked them that they lived or worked in the 21st. Whether they know it or not, the security of their persons, their homes and their property is my job. My job and the job of the 160 patrolman, 11 sergeants and four lieutenant, that's who mine the boss.

My name is Canelli, Frank Canelli. I'm Captain in command of the 21st. Can I own two 21st precinct and Captain Frank Canelli. Although the East River is one of its boundaries, The 21st is not in the technical sense of waterfront precinct.

Most of our waterfront is park and parkway. The few docks are confined to the unloading of fuel intended for various power plants and the loading of garbage scows by the Department of Sanitation. But a waterfront emergency is a city-wide emergency.

And although I was scheduled the off-duty, I came directly from a meeting of all commanding offices in the line-up room at Police Headquarters 240 Center Street to the 21st. It was 1045 p.m. when I walked into the barter room.