text: Two of our own and one of O’Riley’s goons are dead in an alleyway on Ludlow and Canal, and the only witness we have is some street kid who says he didn’t see anything. At least, that’s what I think he said. Couldn’t take him to the station - it’s crawling with crooked cops who’ll tip off the family before we even get the cuffs off. Had to do it in a warehouse down the road and had to call in Mulroney. He’ll get this egg to crack. “Whadda we got,” Mulroney said. “Neighborhood kid,” I replied. “Not giving us his name, and he’s got no ID.” “So make him talk.” “I’ve been trying.” “And.” “And he’s *been* talking. But-” “But what?” “He only responds to me in Martin Scorcese projects.” “What do you mean?” “Like he responds to everything we ask with the name of something directed by Martin Scorcese. And I gotta say, it’s crazy how so many of his titles fit standard police questions.” “Alright, Thompson. Hand me a smoke and meet me in there. I’ll take care of this.” Mulroney approached the door of the makeshift interrogation room and gave it a few taps. “Who’s That Knocking at my Door?” I saw Mul throw on and off a confused look in a split second, but it didn’t phase him. Consummate professional, this guy. “Name’s Detective Mulroney, and I want to ask you about what you saw.” He pulls a chair up next to the kid. “But first, I just want you to tell me about yourself.” “Italianamerican.” “Alright. What else? What age are you?” “The Age of Innocence.” You can see when it clicked for Mulroney. “Where do you live?” “New York, New York.” “What do you do?” “Taxi Driver.” “Motherf-” Mulroney’s met a lot of hard-boiled eggs doing this job, but this kid’s a full 20 minutes. He’ll get through. The detective’s been here before. I mean, not in this specific situation. “Let’s move on to why we’re talking to you. I want you to tell me what happened back there. In as much detail as possible.” “Gangs of New York. Silence.” "Who was silent?" "The Irishman." “Okay...anything else? You do know I’ve got dead officers on my hands. Two great men.” “Goodfellas.” “This some joke to you? I’m dealing with five of these a night in this city.” “Mean Streets.” His patience was razor thin. He was ready to charge the kid, like some kind of raging bu- Suddenly Mulroney lit up with an idea. “How about we go with something simple? Can you give a description of the person that killed O’Riley’s man or the cops? What was...the color of his shirt?” “The Color of Money.” “Alright, good. What time did this dust-up go down? While people were still working at the bank next door?” “After Hours.” “Okay, okay. Good. Thompson, you writing this down?” “What else, kid?” I hand Mulroney the bullet shell I picked up at the site. “You know where this would come from, kid? Can you see it alright?” “Shine a Light.” The flashlight beam bathed the table and casing in a soft white glow. The kid picked up the shell. “Made in Milan.” “Alright, we can trace back the bullet manufacturer and see which gang has the connection. But how could a kid like you know that?” “My Voyage to Italy.” Always leave it to Mulroney to turn this cold case white hot again. But before we get anything else out, we heard a loud smash from the back door. “Damn - sounds like O’Riley’s boys coming to collect a trophy. Thompson, if we hold them off long enough, the kid can get out the side door.” “Sure thing.” “Kid, you gotta leave. I need you to meet me at the 14th Precinct tomorrow at noon. Any family you can go to in the meantime?” “Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore.” “Man, that’s annoying in this particular situation. Mul, what should we do?” “Just get out of here, kid. Thompson, get ready for a fight.” “No,” the kid said. I furiously racked my brain for Martin’s filmography, but I got nothing. Wait, I got nothing. “Hugo,” the kid said. “I’ll stay.” I’ve never forgotten the calmness of that kid’s face, or the embrace between him and Mulroney. Like a father watching his son become a man. There was no time to soak it in. One brave kid showing a lifetime of courage in a single moment. So just like that, we departed.