Latin Blues - A Tale of Police Omerta

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We don't talk about it. That's what the veteran policeman from Brooklyns 92nd Precinct, a good and honest cop, told his rookie partner one day. We don t get mixed up in it not the graft, not the shakedowns, not the abuse, not the endless turf battles among higher-ups. We deal with these things however we can. But we don't talk about it. One day, a good cop dies And, talk about it or not, his comrades know they have to do something about it. A tale of what went on behind the New York s Blue Wall in the roaring 70 s... Let the f**ks kill each other. That was the credo of Captain Maximilian Leopold, of Brooklyns 92nd precinct. But even Joe Picon, the rookie cop, knew the f**ks didn t always kill other f**cks. When the f**ks began to converge the Jimenez Gang, the Brass Knuckle Rapist, Skinhead Ramos, turf-hungry bureaucrats, bean-counting number crunchers, and the lust-crazed Captain himself the victim who died wasn't a f**k at all. He was a good cop from another precinct, and he had been blind sided by another credo even good cops follow: We don't talk about it.

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