POLICE DEPARTMENT: CITY OF NEW YORK

TAPE TRANSCRIPTION LABEL PD641-447 (4/85)

tape# 4401      case# MC201 loc 7th Pct

tape date 8/10/90        trans, date 8/11/90

transcribed by             Benjamin Wright

sig.

civ. emp.# 4381-99-766 badge § xxxxxxxx

pers: DA Samuel Weiser

Captain Allen Epstein

Pet. Paul Kirkpatrick

Pet. Charles O’Neill

Pet. S. Moodrow

Dr. Marvin Jackson

Ptlmn. Franklyn Peters

cross reference 7th Pet Homicide 7-675

EPSTEIN: one, two, three…

WEISER: For shit sake, Epstein. He’s going out again. Get the doctor. What’s his name? Jackson? Tell him I want his ass in here until we finish with Peters’ statement. O’NEILL: Take it easy. Take it easy. Hey, Franklyn, can you hold onto it? Just a couple more minutes.

JACKSON: What’s wrong?

WEISER: For Christ sake, the guy’s practically out of it.

JACKSON: What’d you expect? Mr. Peters is heavily sedated. I’m surprised he’s stayed awake this long.

WEISER: Can’t you give him something to keep him up? We need five minutes to get a statement.

JACKSON: No way. He’s still bleeding internally. I want him quiet.

WEISER: Are you fucking kidding me? You just told me he’s gonna die. Now you want him ‘quiet’? He’s gonna be quiet for a long time, Doctor.

EPSTEIN: C’mon, Simon. It’s not the doctor’s fault.

WEISER: I want a dying declaration, Allen. I want an i.d. that’ll stand up. I want when we catch this piece of shit, he’ll get so many life sentences, even the fucking bleeding hearts won’t be able to get him out. I want he should die in jail. Now, for shit sake, Doc, does he have a chance or doesn’t he?

JACKSON: He has no chance.

WEISER: Then wake him up for ten minutes. Let him at least get even with the animal that did this to him.

JACKSON: I can’t.

WEISER: Bullshit!

JACKSON: I want to help you, Mr. Weiser, but I can’t deliberately administer a medication that might hasten a patient’s death.

WEISER: Bullshit!

JACKSON: Bullshit? You forget that you prosecuted a doctor from this hospital for giving a morphine overdose to a ninety-four-year-old man with advanced Alzheimer’s? You forget all the speeches you made about prosecutions for euthanasia? You forget the Sunday morning TV interviews? Hey, pal, read my lips: fuck you.

MOODROW: Wait a second. Hold it. He’s coming around. You hear me, Franklyn?

PETERS: Yeah. I hear you.

MOODROW: Do you know who I am?

PETERS: Moodrow, tell the doctor to give me something for the pain. My guts’re on fire.

JACKSON: I can give him more morphine.

WEISER: You wanna put him asleep? He just woke up and you wanna put him back asleep? I feel like I’m talking to a goddamn Martian. Hey, schmuck, read my lips: fuck you, too. Is the tape running, Epstein? Is the fucking tape at least running?

EPSTEIN: It’s running. Go ahead and get the statement.

MOODROW: Franklyn, you know how bad you’re wounded, right?

PETERS: Yeah.

MOODROW: I gotta tell you it don’t look good for you. The doctor says you ain’t gonna make it.

PETERS: I figured that.

MOODROW: We want your statement, Franklyn. It’s a dying declaration. You understand what I’m saying? It’s admissible if I tell you beforehand that you’re gonna die.

WEISER: He’s falling asleep.

MOODROW: For shit sake, Weiser. I just told the poor bastard he’s not gonna make it. Can’t you give him a second to think about it? Hey, Franklyn, can you talk? Help us get this guy.

PETERS: It was Levander Greenwood.

MOODROW: Are you sure?

PETERS: His picture’s been all over the precinct for the last week. Plus I knew him from the street. Everybody figured taking him would get them out of uniform. Get them a gold shield.

MOODROW: Then you’re identifying the man who shot you as Levander Greenwood.

PETERS: Yes.

MOODROW: Did Levander Greenwood also shoot Officer Cruz?

PETERS: Yes.

MOODROW: Do you think you could tell us what happened this afternoon?

O’NEILL: Jesus Christ, he’s folding up.

JACKSON: He’s in pain.

WEISER: Don’t put him to sleep. We just need a couple of minutes more.

PETERS: I’m all right.

MOODROW: Tell us what happened, Franklyn. From when you got the call.

PETERS: Me and Cruz were in 7 Adam. About four hours into our watch, Central ordered us and 7 Henry to switch over to channel 3. That’s Special Ops. There was a detective on the mike I didn’t know. Identified himself as Carero, something like that. He ordered us to proceed to an apartment building at 887 Henry Street. 7 Henry was ordered to cover the front and back entrances. We were ordered to secure the third floor landing. The perpetrator…

WEISER: What the fuck happened?

MOODROW: I think he fell asleep.

PETERS: (unintelligible)

MOODROW: Can you speak a little louder, Franklyn?

PETERS: Carero said the perpetrator was in apartment 4C. Levander Greenwood. Wanted for murder. We all knew who he was.

O’NEILL: Christ, he’s coughin’ blood.

MOODROW: Just keep on talking, Franklyn. The doctor’s right here.

PETERS: We were ordered to secure the third floor landing.…Did I say that?

MOODROW: Don’t worry about it. Just keep talking.

PETERS: Nobody was allowed to go up and if anyone came down, they had to stay down. Carero said the task force would have a SWAT team ready in fifteen minutes. Just keep him bottled up for fifteen minutes.

The only thing was he had the wrong apartment. As we proceeded up to the third floor, I heard a noise behind me and he was standing there in a doorway. I had my gun in my hand, pointing up at the ceiling, but I didn’t get close to bringing it down. Greenwood opened up with a twelve gauge without giving us any warning. You understand? He didn’t say, ‘drop it’ or ‘freeze.’ It was an execution.

I thought getting shot wouldn’t hurt. My brother was shot in Vietnam and he said he didn’t feel anything at first. But this hurt like hell. My gut was torn open and it was like someone poured kerosene inside there and lit it. I could feel my organs trying to slide out and I kept pushing them back in. Cruz didn’t say a word. He laid on top of me and his blood ran down in my face. I know I was screaming and trying to kick my partner away, but he was so heavy. I thought the whole world was lying on top of me.

JACKSON: He’s asleep.

EPSTEIN: We get enough, Simon? Can we let his wife in now?

WEISER: Yeah. We got it.

EPSTEIN: Wait a second.

WEISER: What? What’s wrong?

EPSTEIN: I forgot to label the tape.

WEISER: So do it now.

EPSTEIN: Date is August 10. Case number: MC201. Place is Bellevue Hospital, Intensive Care Unit #4. Witness is Patrolman Franklyn Peters, shield number 1677. Present: Simon Weiser, District Attorney; Allen Epstein, Captain, 7th Precinct; Detectives James Kirkpatrick, Charles O’Neill and Stanley Moodrow, 7th Precinct; Doctor…What’s your name, Doc?

JACKSON: Jackson.

EPSTEIN: Doctor Jackson. This is a dying declaration.