Chicago's Ugliest Badges

By Michael Julius Green

Seven police officers, a prosecuting attorney, a defense team and the mafia. With a twist that no one is really looking for. With the scales of justice weighing the balance. The only outcome is a verdict that even the courts may not be prepared for.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Michael Julius Green
• Release date: Jun 7, 2023
• ISBN: 9781960075918

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ChiCago’s

Ugliest

Badges

M i Ch a e l J U L I U S g r e e n

CHICAGO’S UGLIEST BADGES

Copyright © 2023 Michael Julius Green.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

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ISBN 978-1-960075-90-1 (Paperback)

ISBN 978-1-960075-91-8 (Ebook)

ISBN 979-8-89030-065-2 (Hardcover)

Printed in the United States of America

aBoUt the aUthor

Author Michael Julius Green is an IT (Irish Twin) he being born in the month of January 1964, the sibling that same year in the month of December. This means that they’re the same age for nine days upon the sibling’s birthday until his. A veteran of the U. S. Army after 7 years, and a city employee of a major metropolitan (actually the first). The book’s about seven police officers who entangle themselves into something beyond their own indiscretions that the badge has shielded. The mafia entwines it’s dealings through unscrupulous elements which takes the levels of this saga into the very depths of. And ask the righteous question FAMILY OR FAMÍLIA? While all the while two frenemies reignite the competitiveness of their collegiate/law school days to defend/prosecute those that need to be. As justice becomes JUSTIFICATION SERVED!

To my grandfather and his memory, Rufus Samuels, and also my nephew, Roy Burkett III, I watched you grow. Damn, I am so proud of you. Last but not least, and always on my mind, to the every loving and lasting memory of my PRECIOUS MOTHER, Ruby . . . Damn I love and miss you so much and I know that you knew which I know that you knew that when I told you that I gotcha, you knew that I did. Love you so much until INFINITI (01-02-1944 + 02-14-2016)

There may come a time that you might have to wipe/clean your parent/ parents ass…will you be PREPARED???

If you have the smallest of a lump on your breast or body FEMALES/ MALES PLEASE HAVE IT CHECKED…she didn’t and found out too late that it was stage 4 cancer . . . And she was a Homehealth Aid Nurse.

IT JUST MIGHT SAVE…YOUR LIFE!!!

Also to Janet Kalter

Without you giving me the advice and guidance this wouldn’t be.

Thank you so very much.

I would like to have a page added to the book

for a person who just lost his life to Covid

In Memory

Of

Terrance Gordon

Thank You

For

Allowing me to use your

Name for the purpose of

My book

May You

Forever

R. I. P

To Benjamin Julius Green, The integrity and strength that you display as an individual maneuvering through the obstacles of a path put before you that has been designed by an ugly encounter of workplace negligence/ ignorance which caused you to be the strength of renewed determination that you’ve become. My cuz, you are the granite rock of this family and

the anchor . Thank you for guiding the way yet carrying the beacon..

Much love FAMILY…

MICHAEL JULIUS

P.S

You are the inspiration which says...THE TRUE INNER EMOTIONAL PART OF ANY HUMAN BEING IS WHAT DRIVES US TOWARDS, FROM OUR GOALS, DESTINATIONS AND MORALS THAT WHICH MAKES US...WHO WE ARE!!!

PreliMinary

The Trial January 2nd, 2008

Outside, the city of Chicago was truly feeling and living up to its name, the Windy City. Inside, the courtroom halls were cluttered with people everywhere. The district attorney has one witness ready to testify against the six defendants who were being prosecuted for alleged crimes. The list runs from racketeering, rapes of various kinds, molestation, theft, conduct unbecoming of the badge, brutality, assaults, and corruption to its lowest form. The five lawyers for the accused were in front of the judge, discussing the immediate need for their clients’ freedom. Once bail was set, they would be able to go from there to have each person released.

Your Honor, the lawyer for John Cicerone spoke as he stood in a Brooks Brothers suit during the arraignment procedure. We ask that you grant us bail. My client has been falsely accused of these alleged crimes because of his working association with said individuals.

Judge Petron looked down from his bench and looked over to the district attorney.

Your Honor, the Executive Assistant District Attorney said, I am sure that this man is the ringleader of this criminalized enforced lawless enterprise that has functioned for so long in this city. If he is to be released, our witness may only be that for their death.

I object, Your Honor, Robert Konners yelled out.

I believe I’ve heard enough, the judge said. I’ll set bail at $2 million cash, and the defendant, if he can make it, will surrender his passport and also be monitored with an ankle bracelet.

Dismayed at the bail hearing, John Cicerone walked out of the courtroom, shackled, with the corrections officers holding his arm.

John CiCerone

As a decorated officer in the department for fourteen years, John Cicerone’s police approach was impeccable until that day when, in his sixth year as an undercover cop who rose through the ranks fast, he came across the Mafia who wanted him to be their eyes and ears within the department. Cicerone told them that that would be a problem. They showed him a briefcase full of hundreds and fifties, and the gleam in his eyes said what wasn’t spoken.

Now that we have your full, undivided attention, we will need a list of guys who will do our bidding, and you must already know that they are corrupt.

Coming into the courtroom next were Terrence Gordon and Eddie Bower. Gordon, an African American man, stood tall—about six feet— and had a disposition that could match the roughest alley cat.

Bower was a racist who was all of five feet and loved to see other people get into trouble that he caused or pain that he inflicted. The men came to the front of the court on the same floor as Cicerone. They wanted to place them in separate courts to divide and conquer, and if that didn’t work, to keep them guessing on who ratted out who.

With his clenched teeth seething with venom, Eddie screamed, You black asshole, I know you told.

If you say one more word to me, I’ll kick your ass to the inside of yourself to the curb of this courthouse, Terrence responded.

Order in the court! The judge slammed his gavel. I will not tolerate this while you gentlemen are in my courtroom. Is that understood? the judge asked.

Yes, sir, were the words that fell from Gordon’s mouth.

Eddie looked up at the judge and continued with him where he left off with Terrence. Man, fucks yous, I’m only heres because some pigeon-ass bitch told these guys thats I’s was screwing yous mother and yours wife wanted ins on a ménage.

Your Honor, His lawyer tried to deflect the judge’s attention.

The judge had already signaled for the bailiff to grab some of the sheriff ’s deputies and said, Remove this man and add contempt to his charges as well!

Yous can’t do that, yous motherfucking punk. Do yous know that yous can’t do this twos me? I’m a damn cop, he cried as they dragged him out of the courtroom.

Terrence’s lawyer, Joyce Melkins, who stayed dressed in Prada, asked the judge, Your Honor, we would like to separate ourselves from at least the potentially accused that just left, for we fear in retrospect of the defendant’s behavior that this could would be totally damaging to our small participation in of this case.

With eyes affixed on attorney Melkins, the judge smiled, glanced over the papers once again, then smiled again and said, Perhaps it is better that your client here somehow individualizes himself from his codefendants. He then slammed down his gavel and said, Denied!

What about bail, Your Honor? the lawyer asked. Also denied, the judge replied.

Don’t worry, Joyce whispered to Terrence, he won’t be our guy in the robe when we go to trial.

Yeah, but I’ve been in this business for a long time, and tell me something, Ms. Melkins, you think they don’t talk? he asked.

The far-off, distant look that she gave told him what he wanted to know.

Four more police officers, Vincent Tachme, Matthew Machon, Juan Gomez, and Jack Kulvin were facing the judge in the courtroom they had been assigned to for quite some time while the other three had their fates sealed by the one they had to deal with.

In front of the judge, they appeared to be choirboys ready to sing, but only their lawyers spoke the lyrics for bail.

Your Honor, if it would please the court, Annette Moore, attired in DKNY, the defense attorney for Kulvin, spoke, we would ask that you divide these gentlemen with the mentioned ones to this case in order for my client to get a fair and impartial trial.

What you ask is possible, the judge said, but didn’t the defendants act as a unit that participated in the crimes as a whole?

The executive assistant district attorney who had been running from room to room was standing with his assistant as he heard what he knew they would try. It would be easier to stand alone worrying about your own charges versus the charges as a whole or enterprise, the lawyer explained.

Immediately replying, the district attorney said, Your Honor, my office and I would like to keep these Mafia wannabes together so we can collectively prosecute the entire family and not fractions of it.

I object, Your Honor, Annette Moore yelled. My client is innocent and furthermore what implications are there to prove mafia influences? Holding his finger Moore was speaking for her client the DA wanted to be acknowledged while she was talking as the question came.

You have further indictments pending? the judge asked.

At this time, Your Honor, all I can convey to the court is that the state has a witness, with many more to come, as long as we keep the members of this organization in prison during the trial, R. M. Samuels responded.

James Alasco, who represented Vincent Tachme, agreed in principle on the divisional part but asked, If we are or cannot be facing the witness from the system of justice without fellow attachments, can it be possible that it be noted for our clients to have different juries listen to their cases as the one not sum or part of a whole?

You bring up a very good basis, the judge said.

Knowing what this would come to, R. M. Samuels intervened, Your Honor, did the victims and their families suffer the torture, beatings, rapes, intimidations, and shakedown tactics in sums or parts because what these vile undercover human beings did was take the entire with only enough room for a sliver of that person’s being to survive or the will to die in order to seek solace in the hereafter or survive hopefully long enough to somehow escape from the madness. It’s been too long until some kind of justification from this to come, so how much longer must they wait for any ramifications?

Weighing what was just said, the judge slammed her gavel and spoke, Hold the defendants for trial so they may with their brethren be held accountable by a group of their peers if they choose a jury trial, and Mr. Samuels, save that speech for the trials closing arguments. Court is adjourned, she said while rising to her feet.

The lawyers looked from one to the other and knew that their work would be intricately cut out for them to follow or go against the grain to find a medium that would allow their clients to maintain some sort of dignity.

James Alasco and Annette Moore noticed that Femmi Russell said nothing while they attempted to argue their cases.

Cat got your tongue? Annette asked.

No, it’s that . . . What’s the point? she exclaimed. We have clientele that’s guilty as all sin, yet we are paid to give them the best— not good or an elaborate hoax—but the best defense money can buy. And when that fails, they say we were in cahoots to railroad them from the very start. Now I can sit here like a tick on a dog’s ass and physically do enough to have my client think that this is all some sort of smoke screen before the cavalry comes charging in, but as I said earlier, what’s the point?

If that’s going to be your attitude, then maybe we should seek a higher court to have this separated trial invoked not just for our clients’ sake, but representation of a slight mischaracterization, James Alasco said.

Maybe you should stop using the starch to texturize your hair because it’s having a slight effect on your hearing! Femmi replied. I said that I am a part of this, and even though I’m on a losing team playing in a no-win situation, my quota has been met, she continued. Well let’s hope you feel that way when we’re in the third and fourth month of trial, countered Annette.

Now that you’re caught up with the news of the moment, let’s give you the story and how it became the headlines.

Cicerone was on the hunt for his recruits. The money had been very nice. It was around a little over a quarter of a million dollars. He placed much of it in a hole on the floor that he had installed in the garage when his wife was at work and the kids were in school. He needed the rest to lure a criminal network into his lap. First on the list was Matthew Machon. Besides being his partner, he could also help collect the guys wanted for this assignment.

That morning of August 16, 2000, at 8:00 a.m. on an eighty-degree day with sunshine, the city of Chicago was just bustling as people moved to and from work.

Matthew came out from roll call as John approached him. Look, Matt, I got this thing that’s pretty hot, and I may want to cut you in on it.

John said, Listen, my old lady would kill me, but that’s why I keep the same soaps I use at home in the locker. Even though expensive, it allows the old girl to think that I’m not cheating, Matt answered.

So when can we go and ramrod this chick? Matthew asked, laughing.

John nearly doubled over and out of nowhere stopped. Get that out, off, and removed from your thinking. I need you to get in the squad car, and say nothing to no one, he said.

Nodding, Matthew did what he was told and got in as John started the vehicle up, placed it in drive, and sped off.

Finding a one-way dead-end alley with no windows on either side of the buildings, John parked the vehicle and told his partner to get out.

Matthew opened the door and came walking toward the trunk of the squad car and said to John, What’s up?

Removing $20,000 from a small gym bag, he handed the bag over to his partner. You know how you’re always talking about the easy life? John asked.

Yeah, if I could just place enough money to make money, hide a little, spend a little, and maneuver a little, that little would always be my gold mine to keep me a little bit happy, Matthew answered.

Today is your little gold mine reality check, John said. Go ahead and open the bag. Pulling the zipper back, Matthew’s eyes lit up like that of a small child on his birthday.

Okay, he said, that’s the beauty part. Fill me in on the ugly. Why so glum, chum? inquired John.

It’s not my birthday. You’re not my fairy godfather, and Christmas is in December, Matthew replied.

I just hit a mother lode with the guys that we’re supposed to lock up, said John.

You struck a deal with those drug dealers? asked Matthew.

No, no. The guys who supply and allow them to operate while taking a percentage, John said.

Get out of here. You mean you’re in bed with the mob?

Yes, and I can get you in with this, or you can find that rainbow and the leprechaun that’ll kick your ass for his pot of gold.

Only a few seconds elapsed as John went to take the bag out of Matthew’s hands.

He quickly turned away and made a backward step. Listen, John, I can’t believe I’m saying this. I am in. What’s our take? he greedily asked.

With what John figured, he could throw in another $30,000 towards Matt, and everyone after that would get either $20,000 to $25,000. John’s guess is it’s going to keep them honest and hungry.

Now that you’re in, I’ll add to your take. You can’t let the others know your payout, understand? John asked.

Sure, but what others? Matthew replied.

The crew we need to put together to formulate this operation, John spoke.

Placing the bag on the floor in front of him, Matthew said, Stop at my car so I can lock this in the trunk.

You got it, John told him as he drove out of the dead end and into traffic and back to the street near the precinct’s parking lot. Matthew moved from his seat to take the bag and place it in his trunk. Back in the vehicle, both men relaxed as they started the shift, and the next guy after that seemed to fall right in their hands.

Hey, I know him, Matthew said. He’s always looking for a little something extra, and he’s willing to do what it takes.

Officer Bower was giving three young African American males a hard time. Listen, yous, if I’s catch yous asses around heres again, Isles personally shove something ups the cracks of its, he spoke.

One of the young men who held an animosity towards the law, said, Man, you think ’cause you’re the law, you can harass us. I’m going to get my dad, and we’ll settle this, he said.

Oh, really nows, you’re going twos get yous dad? Officer Bower questioned. You’s twos can goes, gets out of heres, he continued. Nows come over heres in this alley. He scowled at the one who made the statement.

I’m not going in no alley with you, so you can kick my ass, the young fellow said.

Nos, nos, nos, he answered. Wheeze going to get us an understanding, that’s all, the officer replied. Before making a move, the two officers stayed in the car and watched as Bower went to work. Handcuffing the young man by placing his hands behind him, Bower unbuckled the young man’s belt, and the baggy pants, which were already halfway down his behind, dropped straight down. The underwear accompanied the pants to the ankle because of the weight.

What happened next was unbelievable. Bower came up behind him and steadily placed his hand on the victim’s back. With his zipper opened, he shoved all four inches of his erected penis in the young man’s anus.

Aaahhhhhh! the young man screamed in pain and horror as the two officers sat and watched.

Kepping the young man pinned to the wall while he was stroking in and out of the victim he spoke, Nows the next times I’s tells yous twos do something, this is what I’m gonnas do, the officer said softly as he lost control and his voice went an octave or two higher while he ejaculated in the young man’s ass.

Taking out his handkerchief, the officer wiped his penis and placed the handkerchief in his pocket as he zipped up his pants. He uncuffed the young man and said, Nows get twos school and haves a nice day, okay? The young man cried openly as he reached for his pants and underwear to try and pull them up. In the process of doing that, he cried heavily yet openly, and he couldn’t stop. The officer turned around and noticed that he had two other uniformed men watching him. Come on, kid, let’s goes! Bower barked at him. Then he said something that made it seem like a date. Can I’s drop yous off somewhere? Bower asked.

Quickly the young man came from leaning against the wall while pulling the pants and underwear up to his hips, buckled it, and started to walk. But the pain that shot up his rectum made him walk gingerly out of the alley and on to his destination.

Hey’s, guys, what’s going on? Bower yelled with his hand outstretched.

I wouldn’t shake your hand with all that shit on it, Cicerone replied. I’ll shake it, Matthew said, after you have it surgically replaced. Fuck yous, replied Bower.

So listen, how would you like to make some extra cash? Matthew asked.

What I’s got twos do for it? he questioned.

Well, certainly not that, and before I break you off $20,000, you need to sanitize those things so I can place it in your hands, Cicerone said.

Going over to his unit, Bower reached in and pulled out some wet towels, and once he finished, the officer discarded it to the ground.

You just don’t give a damn, do you? Cicerone asked. What? What yous so uptight fors? Bower inquired.

Listen, meet me at Touches. We’ll get some drinks, and check out some exotic asses, Cicerone stated.

Bower interrupted. That things in these alley wasn’t me.

Look, we both saw you nailing that young guy like he was your woman, Matthew yelled.

And yous guys dids nothing abouts it? Or are yous just as sadistic as I’s for enjoying these view? he questioned.

You disgust me, Cicerone said. Just have your ass at Touches tonight, he insisted.

That’s when the police car drove off with the two men in it as Bower watched them leave and said, Hmmph. You’s thinks he thought I’s was giving thems a show or something.

The day went a little fast as both men went to get lunch. What are you eating today? Cicerone asked Machon. I’ll take a hot dog, he answered.

You’re gross, Cicerone said.

What? Matthew replied without thinking.

You saw our boy banging that young black kid back there, and all you have on your mind is wieners. Cicerone smiled.

I . . . err . . . I, ahh . . . just get me a burger, Matthew sheepishly said. Don’t worry. The meal’s on me today, John said.

Going in to the restaurant, he walked up to the waitress on shift and gave her his order.

So when are we gonna tackle the sheets again? the blond-haired, blue eyed, buxom, good-looking woman was asked.

Maybe when I leave the club tonight. she answered. Why . . . you working? he asked.

Yeah, I’m going in about 6:30 p.m. to shake the dinner crowd, she replied.

Good. Then I can waste my tips with you while you do that thing that you do, Cicerone said.

The waitress smiled, showing a gap between her upper two front teeth, and that’s when Cicerone whispered, And I got something for that space between your teeth too.

She walked away, blushing as she went over to place his order.

After remembering the start, it came to him while sitting in the cell room. Cicerone didn’t believe what was happening to him. One of those assholes told, he thought. I gave them damn good money, more than they would’ve ever made in that uniform. The sadness was brought about by being in jail with the people he busted. John got up from the bench and went back to pacing the floor. While doing that, his mind drifted back to them having their lunch.

The officers sat in the car and ate while patrolling they talked about the day and the possibility of tonight. When the clock hit four, they were at their lockers, changing into civilian clothes and getting the day’s lowdown. I’s heard Cicerone and Machon caught a real banger outs there today, someone yelled from nowhere. Both men had a surprised look on their faces as one glanced to the other with the who’s that? look. Walking up to the men, naked ass and dripping wet, Bower said,

So’s how’s was it?

They put their clothes on, and Cicerone told him with a frown, I’ll see you late tonight, as he sidestepped him and went through the exit as Machon just gave him a look and said, You’re pathetic. Put some clothes on so we can leave.

Returning to his locker, Bower smiled to himself, knowing that the two were just as demented as he was for watching.

The men met up at the nightspot Touches. Just before going in, Cicerone paid for the men’s cover charge.

Explaining to Bower what the particulars were, Cicerone showed him a nice stack of hundreds as Bower accepted the money and said, My’s only problems is we’re working fors the Mafia. Stretching out his hand to retrieve the bag, Bower moved a step out of Cicerone’s way, while holding steadfastly to the bag, and continued, But fors that kinds of money, whatever needs to bes done wills bes.

That’s when the men went in and saw the women running around from guy to guy, having a grand ole time. Cicerone became entangled with the waitress from earlier that day.

Paying attention to a big African American guy who was drinking a gin and tonic, John excused himself for a minute and went over to

Terrence. Watching the women do their thing, Terrence kept sipping the drink in front of him.

Excuse me, but don’t you work in the thirteenth? Cicerone asked. Yeah, and who the hell wants to know? Gordon roared.

I’m Cicerone, and I’m a fellow cop, he said, extending his hand toward the man sitting there.

Terrence looked up and said, Is there something I can help you with without acknowledging the outstretched hand?

Taking the moment to seat himself beside the man he was speaking with, John saw this as his opportunity. Terrence gave him a glance to let him know he wasn’t to be played with.

I don’t know about you, but I could sure use a little smoke of weed and some fresh air, John said. Agreeing, Terrence followed him.

As they went past, the other two watched, and John waved them off to let it be known he was all right. Bower said to Matthew, I’s hope he’s nots going twos invite himself intos the circle.

What if he is? Matthew asked.

I’s don’ts need twos be arounds no blacks guy, he said.

The laugh which Matthew gave was dumbfoundedly funny as he did a double take, and a few people looked on.

Let me try. I mean, let me try very hard to understand your ignoramus thinking, Matthew spoke. "You’ll forcibly stick your dick in a young black man, but