The Doctor

Twenty-five preaching sergeant waters. Now, CB, no word on it yet. Well, we've got men out searching the whole area. Yeah, we don't care to the care driver. The detectives are talking to him now. That's right.

You are by transcription in the muster room at the Twenty-first precinct, the NERV 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 written in the 124 rooms at the 21st precinct.

All right, CB. I'd like to know as soon as anything happens. Yeah, right away. Okay. 21st precinct. It's just lines on the map of the city of New York. Most of the 173,000 people who waged into the 9th tenths of a square mile between set F avenue in the East River wouldn't know if you asked them

that they lived or worked in the 21st. Whether they know what or not, the security of their homes, their prisons and their property, is the job of the men of the 21st Precinct. The 21st, 160 patrolman, 11 sergeants and four lieutenants who mine the boss.

My name is Canelli, Frank Canelli. I'm captain in command of the 21st. I was working my day tours 8 a.m. to 6 p.m. It was a bright sunny Saturday and for the first time of the year, people from all over other city plucked to the zoos, the mall, the Metropolitan Museum of Art, and other attractions

in Central Park. My 2pm, the traffic on Fifth Avenue, was jammed. I went over to Fifth Avenue in sector car number four for a first-hand look at the condition. A half hour later, I instructed the operator, Potrom and Jikobi, to return to the station house. As we were driving there, in East 78th Street I saw the Sergeant's car double parked at the entrance