Lone Wolf #10: Harlem Showdown (1975) - Plot & Excerpts
But in his own mind, Williams had a better name for the squad: just call them the fuckups. He was dealing with a disaster area; he was dealing with a squad that in the good old days would have been working the urinal circuits in Times Square or trying to pick up queers in Greenwich Village. Now, with the new liberalized policies and the tolerance of minorities, the department’s worst were no longer able to work colorful details like this, but on the other hand there was nothing that you could do with them in normal channels. Put the fuckups into patrol cars or even behind the desks at precincts and they’d be screwing around with the public; bring them up on departmental charges and you were risking a nasty stink. Besides, what the hell could the charges be? Incompetence? Psychopathology? It was not like the army; there was no clean article system in which every condition had a label, just stick it on the discharge and pitch them out. No. No, these men were staying. The commander of the squad, a lieutenant, had gone through a colorful adultery-and-divorce case that had gotten his picture on the front page of one of the tabloids, piling out of a motel room in his underwear, grappling desperately for his gun, which was the one article that a policeman was never supposed to be without, a hint of bare shoulders in the background.
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