"Wonder what he's doing here?" Ed pondered aloud.
"Who is he?" Fontana asked as the preoccupied looking man headed for Lt. Van Buren's office.
"Captain Cragen of the Special Victims Unit," Ed answered just as they heard an anguished no from their Lieutenant.
"What the hell did he say to upset the lieutenant so much?" Joe asked sounding like he was ready to go in and defend his boss.
Ed didn't wait to answer his partner but headed for Van Buren's office.
"Lieu, you OK?" Ed asked very concerned after he'd let himself into the office.
"Oh Ed," Anita answered tears evident on her face, "Lennie's gone," she answered.
"Gone, whatcha mean gone?" Ed asked stubbornly refusing to understand the situation.
"Lennie died early this morning, apparently a massive heart attack. I think he went the way he would have wanted to. Yesterday after he finished his day's work at the DA's office, he stopped by a bodega to pick up a few things for dinner at his girlfriend Cele's. Only he walked in on a couple of punks trying to rip the bodega owner off. Lennie broke up the robbery and turned the punks over to two uniformed officers, then he went on to his girlfriend's. He had dinner with her and spent the night. She tried to wake him this morning, but he was gone," Cragen explained.
"How'd you find out about it?" Ed asked.
"The ME on the scene remembered Lennie had worked for me, so he gave me a call," Cragen answered.
"We need to call his daughter Julia and his brother," Anita said trying to hang on to her emotions by being useful.
"I called his nephew Ken, he'll take care of notifying the rest of the family," Cragen said.
"That's good, I'll contact Rey Curtis," Anita said, and then she looked at Cragen. "You want to call Mike Logan?"
"No, but I will," Cragen blew out a breath. "Mikey, is not going to take this well," he said, in a manner that suggested he knew what he was talking about.
"Wonder if anyone knows where his really old partners are, like Reds Carpenter, and his old bosses like Tommy Brannigan?" Cragen wondered aloud.
"How long was Briscoe with the NYPD?" Fontana asked out of curiosity.
"Thirty-seven years, from 1967 to 2004, most of that as a detective first grade," Anita answered.
"Wow, guess it'll be one hell of a wake," Joe suggested.
Ed started to protest, but Cragen nodded, "Yeah, Lennie would love to hear everyone telling funny stories on him, and I've got a few, and I bet every partner and boss has a few too," he said and winked at Anita.
Anita smiled and shook her head, "More than a few, I put up with that charming over-aged juvenile delinquent for 11 years," she laughed and then she heaved a sigh that was on the verge of a sob.
"You three get out of here while I call Curtis," Anita ordered shakily.
"Guess she had a real soft spot for this Briscoe," Joe said seeking conformation from the other two men.
"Lots of women did. There will probably be a lot of pretty ladies at his funeral in tears," Cragen noted.
Later at the local Pub
Rey Curtis, Ed Green, Mike Logan, Don Cragen and John Munch sat in a booth, each nursing their own particular brand of poison, except of course Cragen. Ken Briscoe approached them.
"Hi," Ken said as he slid into the booth. "Thanks for coming. I wanted to ask you guys to do my Uncle Lennie one last favor," Ken said nervously.
"Sure kid, what do you want?" Mike Logan asked. Ken tried not to imagine that he heard a note of tolerance in Logan's voice that was probably only there out of respect for his uncle.
"I want to ask you guys to be my Uncle's pallbearers with me," he said quickly.
He felt five sets of eyes focus on him and soften. Then he heard a chorus of 'you bets' and 'I'd be honoreds'.
For a cop who lived in a "walk-in closet" and who routinely told people he'd made a mess of his life, Lennie had a very impressive funeral. It seemed like every officer in the NYPD knew and liked Lennie Briscoe. So there was a sea of blue there at his funeral. There were also lab techs and medical examiners and the people from the DAs office, there were even some defense attorneys.
As Cragen had predicted there were plenty of teary-eyed women. Fontana had volunteered to bring Lennie's girlfriend Cele to the funeral. Lieutenant Van Buren and Ana and Ghia of the 2-7 were there of course. Detective Betty Abrahms showed up too. She was very distraught so Jack McCoy was offering her comfort. Shambala Green, Danielle Melnick, Abbie Carmichael, Jamie Ross and Serena Southerlyn had all showed up. Elizabeth Rodgers was there too, looking very distressed. Beck had brought Myra the computer whiz; she kept leaning into him for comfort.
There was a small knot of Lennie's family at the funeral. His brother, who surprisingly didn't look that much like him, his nephew who did look like Lennie, though he wasn't nearly as tall as his uncle, his sister-in-law and a niece. Then there was Lennie's daughter Julia, who must have been the spitting image of his ex-wife when she was that age, which probably explained why Lennie had married his first wife. Julia clutched her little boy's hand and occasionally shushed him, trying to make him understand about Grandpa's funeral. The last member of Lennie's family was his aged mother. She was a beautiful woman; for all that she must have been in her early 80s. She was tall with snow-white hair and the same blue grey eyes as her son. In fact, when you looked at Mrs. Briscoe, you could see her youngest son clearly in her features, and you could see her sorrow. Lennie Briscoe might have been a tough hard-boiled New York City cop, a father and a grandfather, but to her, he was her baby boy.
Though Lennie was a retired member of the force, the Chief of Detectives had requested of the Police Commissioner that Lennie be buried with all the honors normally reserved for an officer who had died in the line of duty, arguing that Lennie's coronary was probably a delayed reaction from the exertion of collaring the two perps at the bodega the evening before. The commissioner went along with the reasoning, and so Lennie was sent off as befitted a hero.
After the funeral the pall bearers and friends met back at the local Pub.
Mike Logan lifted his glass of beer, "To Lennie Briscoe," Mike's voice began to waver and tears began to fill his eyes.
"Best damn cop in all New York", Rey Curtis finished the toast for Mike.
"To Lennie Briscoe!" the toast went up throughout the bar and glasses were drained.
"It not fair!" Ed roared and turned to punch the nearest wall. Mike caught him before he could hurt himself and wrapped his arms around him like he would an out of control suspect.
"Ed, I know it's not fair, but this isn't what he'd want. Think about it. Lennie would want us to tell some funny stories on him," Mike said.
"Yeah then he'd want somebody to whip Munch's butt at pool for him, not get all twisted up, not about him," Rey added.
Ed nodded and Mike let him out of the hold he had him in. Ed asked, "Did I ever tell you about the time Lennie woofed?"