Case of the Basket

Twenty-five three things, Sergeant Waters. What do you mean, messing? What? Well, I was a little girl. Four and a half? Oh, is he with her mother? Yeah? Where? What's that address? Seven. You are in the muster room at the twenty-first precinct, the Nerve Center.

A call is coming through. You will follow the action taken pursuant to that call from this minute until the final report is written in the one twenty-four rooms at the twenty-first precinct. precinct. All right. I'm sending you off to this right over now. I'm not to go out looking for you. We ought to be right there. That's right. Twenty first

precinct. It's just lines on a map of the city of New York. Most of the 173,000 people wed into the nine tenths of the square mile between Fifth Avenue and East River wouldn't know if you asked them that they lived or worked in the twenty first. Whether they know it or not the security of their homes, their

persons and their property is the job of the men of the twenty first precinct. The 21st, 160 patrolman, 11th sergeant, and 4 lieutenants of whom I am the boss. My name is Connelly, Frank Connelly.

I am Captain in command of the 21st. I was working my day tour. After I turned out to put 2 in at 8am and conferred with Lieutenant Gorman, the death officer, about a patrol problem.

I went into my office to read that just and signed nearly 100 reports and communications that have accumulated since I was last on duty, 24 hours before. At 9.20 I was still at the paperwork.

One of us, please, thank Captain Canelli. Sergeant, you're awarded, I'll see you at Captain. Where is it? 1132nd Avenue. Is that the resident? No, it's okay, I'll be right out. Sergeant, what is it, 20,000?