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His
mother
had
thought
the
same
thing
but
he
had
learned
early
.
His
father
had
shown
him
the
ropes
.
His
father
had
been
a
police
sergeant
,
and
every
week
father
and
son
had
walked
through
the
precinct
and
McCluskey
Senior
had
introduced
his
six-year-old
son
to
the
storekeepers
,
saying
,
"
And
this
is
my
little
boy
.
"
The
storekeepers
would
shake
his
hand
and
compliment
him
extravagantly
and
ring
open
their
cash
registers
to
give
the
little
boy
a
gift
of
five
or
ten
dollars
.
At
the
end
of
the
day
,
little
Mark
McCluskey
would
have
all
the
pockets
of
his
suit
stuffed
with
paper
money
,
would
feel
so
proud
that
his
father
's
friends
liked
him
well
enough
to
give
him
a
present
every
month
they
saw
him
.
Of
course
his
father
put
the
money
in
the
bank
for
him
,
for
his
college
education
,
and
little
Mark
got
at
most
a
fifty-cent
piece
for
himself
.
Then
when
Mark
got
home
and
his
policemen
uncles
asked
him
what
he
wanted
to
be
when
he
grew
up
and
he
would
lisp
childishly
,
"
A
policeman
,
"
they
would
all
laugh
uproariously
.
And
of
course
later
on
,
though
his
father
wanted
him
to
go
to
college
first
,
he
went
right
from
high
school
to
studying
for
the
police
force
.
He
had
been
a
good
cop
,
a
brave
cop
.
The
tough
young
punks
terrorizing
street
corners
fled
when
he
approached
and
finally
vanished
from
his
beat
altogether
.
He
was
a
very
tough
cop
and
a
very
fair
one
.
He
never
took
his
son
around
to
the
storekeepers
to
collect
his
money
presents
for
ignoring
garbage
violations
and
parking
violations
;
he
took
the
money
directly
into
his
own
hand
,
direct
because
he
felt
he
earned
it
.
He
never
ducked
into
a
movie
house
or
goofed
off
into
restaurants
when
he
was
on
foot
patrol
as
some
of
the
other
cops
did
,
especially
on
winter
nights
.
He
always
made
his
rounds
.
He
gave
his
stores
a
lot
of
protection
,
a
lot
of
service
.
When
winos
and
drunks
filtered
up
from
the
Bowery
to
panhandle
on
his
beat
he
got
rid
of
them
so
roughly
that
they
never
came
back
.
The
tradespeople
in
his
precinct
appreciated
it
.
And
they
showed
their
appreciation
.
He
also
obeyed
the
system
.
The
bookies
in
his
precinct
knew
he
would
never
make
trouble
to
get
an
extra
payoff
for
himself
,
that
he
was
content
with
his
share
of
the
station
house
bag
.
His
name
was
on
the
list
with
the
others
and
he
never
tried
to
make
extras
.
He
was
a
fair
cop
who
took
only
clean
graft
and
his
rise
in
the
police
department
was
steady
if
not
spectacular
.
During
the
time
he
was
raising
a
large
family
of
four
sons
,
none
of
whom
became
policemen
.
They
all
went
to
Fordham
University
and
since
by
that
time
Mark
McCluskey
was
rising
from
sergeant
to
lieutenant
and
finally
to
captain
,
they
lacked
for
nothing
.
It
was
at
this
time
that
McCluskey
got
the
reputation
for
being
a
hard
bargainer
.
The
bookmakers
in
his
district
paid
more
protection
money
than
the
bookmakers
in
any
other
part
of
the
city
,
but
maybe
that
was
because
of
the
expense
of
putting
four
boys
through
college
.
McCluskey
himself
felt
there
was
nothing
wrong
with
clean
graft
.
Why
the
hell
should
his
kids
go
to
CCNY
or
a
cheap
Southern
college
just
because
the
Police
Department
did
n't
pay
its
people
enough
money
to
live
on
and
take
care
of
their
families
properly
?
He
protected
all
these
people
with
his
life
and
his
record
showed
his
citations
for
gun
duels
with
stickup
men
on
his
beat
,
strong-arm
protection
guys
,
would-be
pimps
.
He
had
hammered
them
into
the
ground
.
He
had
kept
his
little
corner
of
the
city
safe
for
ordinary
people
and
he
sure
as
hell
was
entitled
to
more
than
his
lousy
one
C
note
a
week
.
But
he
was
n't
indignant
about
his
low
pay
,
he
understood
that
everybody
had
to
take
care
of
themselves
.
