Disclaimer: The television series Hill Street Blues nor it's wonderful characters don't belong to me. I have no intention or expectation of making a profit from the story.
I was a huge fan of Hill Street Blues during it's original run, and watched the show while it was in syndication. A few months ago, I found the series on DVD in a half price bookstore and bought it. After watching all seven seasons, after many years I got the writing bug again. I decided to re-imagine the episode "Remembrance of Hit's Past," expanding both the time line and adding new scenes. I used as little of the original dialog as I could, but I did use the opening turn out briefing from the episode.
6:32 AM
"Item six," Sargent Stan Jablonsky said, as he made his way around the briefing room, clipboard in hand. "Federal investigation into local meat handling practices. Illegal sales of inferior pork bellies have been traced to uh..."
"The corner of Decker and 125th. I know her, Sarge," Detective J. D. Larue said with a shrug. The room erupted in laughter.
Stan waved his hand at J. D. and shook his head. "Anyway, Mick Belker is working an undercover at Orloff's Meat Packing Plant coordinating with people from the Health Department."
Stan checked his clipboard for the next item."Item seven: The retrial of Al Biamonti begins in earnest today. Now just like those Nazis, this Mafia kingpin thought he could skip out on justice. But even though it took seven years, they got him. He's been extradited from Palermo, and the Captain is testifying against him today. Item eight: Relates in as much as Lieutenant Hunter takes station command in the Captain's absence."
Stan paused to take a breath. "Last item: if you can sing, if you can dance, if you can play an instrument, tell jokes, juggle, do magic tricks, you ought to sign up for the PBA Dependant's Amateur Night. Now people, people... The Hill and the Heights are responsible for raising the money for the widows and orphans, so if you got any talent, for heaven sake get out there tonight and flaunt it, cause we want to have a great show. Okay, that's all I got. Let's move. Stop 'em from gettin' away!"
"Déjà vu, Frank?" Chief Fletcher Daniels asked.
"Definitely, Chief," Captain Frank Furillo said. Seven years... he thought. Much had happened since the first Biamonti - LaClerc trial. He had been promoted to Captain and taken command of the Hill. Most importantly, he had met and fell in love with Joyce.
Frank glanced to his right. He had first drawn eyes on Joyce Davenport on these very steps. He had been pleased to find she was defending LaClerc. During his testimony, he found Joyce to be talented,feisty and intelligent. Their verbal sparring delighted him.
Biamonti's extradition had been unexpected, and Frank hadn't thought of the trial in years. Having spent weeks building the case against Biamonti and LaClerc, he and his detectives were incensed when the man skipped the country, but he had put it behind him and moved on. Shortly after the trial, Daniels was made Chief of Police, and Daniels promoted him to Captain.
"I have no doubt your testimony will be as successful as the original trial. I remember being told the word was around the D. A.'s office was that Biamonti would be convicted on all counts, mostly because of your testimony. You know Frank, this trial could climb a couple of rungs on your ladder."
"To what?" Frank asked.
"This morning's editorial page says you're a viable candidate for mayor. What do you say, Frank?"
Frank had learned to ignore Daniel's jibes, but this morning he grew irritated by his boss. He had not had a chance to read the paper before he left the apartment, but it didn't make any difference.
"I've already said I've talked to some people about running, but that's all," he said wearily. "I haven't been asked, and even if I'm asked, I don't know if I'll run."
They came to a stop at the top of the stairs, and watched the throng of reporters surrounding Biamonti.
"And Biamonti moans that we control the press." Daniels said.
Noticing Daniels and Frank's arrival, the herd of reporters charged towards the men and surrounded them.
Bombarding Daniels with questions about the trial, Frank hoped he might escape any questions about his future plans. He frowned when a microphone was shoved in front of him.
As the reporter asked him a question; he felt a vicious blow to his chest, driving his breath away, the strength from his legs. In a desperate attempt to remain on his feet, he grabbed Daniel's shoulder, then as his strength failed, he crumbled to the ground. From far away, he was conscious of shouting.
Then he heard Irwin's voice close to his ear. "Hang on Frank, stay with me," Irwin said.
His consciousness fading, a picture formed in his mind. "Joyce," he whispered. Then he knew no more.
