Brass Wall: The Betrayal of Undercover Detective #4126 by David Kocieniewski

From the Publisher

"A modern-day Serpico." -Entertainment Weekly (one of the 10 best books of 2003-nonfiction)In 1993, Vincent Armanti, Undercover Detective #4126, agreed to infiltrate the branch of the Luchese family responsible for the homicide of a beloved fireman. Already a legend for his past undercover work, Armanti transformed himself into Vinnie "Blue Eyes" Penisi-a veteran hood with an icy stare. Then he found out that the wiseguys had access to classified police information. When the leak was revealed to be the son of the commander of NYPD's Internal Affairs Bureau, IAB detectives compromised Armanti again and again to protect the powerful man's son. But Armanti stayed on the job, even when it was clear his life was in danger.Here, in all his humanity, is an unforgettable hero, battling for his honor and survival. Here, with all its compromises, is the city of New York. Here is a remarkable story that ranks with the great police classics.

The New York Times

The book is revelatory about the blurry line between the good and bad guys. Kocieniewski, a reporter at The New York Times, deftly reports a complex, heavily researched story and, even with asides into the history of Throgs Neck and Internal Affairs, the book speeds along with intensity. — Tyler D. Johnson

Publishers Weekly

Part police drama and part expos of corruption in the New York City Police Department, this book captures the divergent aspects of heroism and dirty politics that have become intertwined in the complex world of law enforcement. Kocieniewski focuses his story on Vincent Armanti, an alias for an undercover cop who, in the process of trying to take down a gang of drug-dealing, murdering mobsters, is betrayed by another cop whose father just happens to be a powerful NYPD inspector. During Armanti's struggle to have his betrayer brought to justice, he faces the NYPD's "blue wall of silence," the department's unspoken policy of protecting their own at all costs. The varied personal stories of Armanti and such people as FDNY Lt. Thomas Williams, Det. John Wrynn and the members of the Ferranti gang range from poignant to intriguing and demonstrate a paradoxical familiarity between cops and criminals. While the court cases and office politics of the book's second half dampen the thriller aspect of the tale, the author's experience working as the police bureau chief for the New York Times allows him to clearly portray and analyze the myriad lawsuits, backdoor deals, personal vendettas and political agendas that arise out of an undercover mission compromised by a dirty cop. Though the ending is somewhat anticlimactic-more front-page news than Hollywood blockbuster-it supports the book's premise that the world of the NYPD is a murky place. (Oct.) Copyright 2003 Reed Business Information.

Library Journal

A former New York Times police bureau chief tells the scary story of Vincent Armanti, who went undercover only to discover that the bad guys he was chasing were being fed classified information from within the NYPD. Copyright 2003 Reed Business Information.

Kirkus Reviews

From the former police bureau chief of the New York Times, a vital, incendiary epic of crime, cops, and corruption in New York City. Kocieniewski brings insider knowledge and a flair for untangling complicated strife-ridden investigations to a shocking tale that began with the 1992 death of fire department lieutenant Thomas Williams in an arson clearly perpetrated by Jack and Mario Ferranti, vicious small-time mobsters in the Throgs Neck section of the Bronx. Investigators placed an aggressive young undercover detective (here provided the pseudonym Vincent Armanti) into the local criminal milieu. He quickly infiltrated the Ferrantis’ shabby crew, but learned that a local police officer, John K. Wrynn, had grown up with the gang and was beholden to them. Wrynn’s father was an inspector with Internal Affairs, making both nearly untouchable. The volatile Armanti refused increasingly coercive hints to taper off as he attempted to ensnare the Ferrantis’ underlings in drug sales, wearing a wire to compromise men who’d likely kill him if his ruse were detected. When it became clear that the younger Wrynn was tipping off his mobbed-up boyhood chums, what started as an investigation into a firefighter’s death became a political football, with Armanti’s team caught between Inspector Wrynn’s interference and the Mollen Commission, then attempting to rein in IA. After Armanti’s identity was compromised, he attempted to goad the Ferrantis’ arsonist into a violent showdown; instead, the Ferrantis were convicted in a raucous trial marked by witness tampering and tension as Armanti "named names" under oath. Kocieniewski’s wry, straightforward prose captures the moody desperation of a city reeling fromcrack-related violence and police scandals, as well as the tenacity of old-school organized crime in New York’s less glamorous neighborhoods. He also paints a disturbing picture of IA compromising investigations and impeding straight-arrow cops in order to protect officers like the Wrynns, affiliated with the department’s so-called "Brass Wall." Old-style urban drama: hard to put down, and probably the best look into the NYPD since, well, James Lardner and Thomas Reppetto’s NYPD (2000). Author tour. Agent: Amanda Urban/ICM

Product Details

• Read an Excerpt

Read an Excerpt

From The Brass Wall:The instant Armanti set foot in Café D'Oro, he could feel the strands of the investigation beginning to unravel. A half-dozen of the café's usual suspects sat nervously around the poker table, but there was no card game going or music playing, just edginess heating up the place. Carlo Cuzzi, wanted by the police in at least one double murder, stood with his burly arms crossed-not exactly a harbinger of peace."Up against the wall, Vin," Cuzzi demanded. "I've got to search you."Fear flooded through Armanti's body in a fast, hot wave. His first instinct was to laugh the whole thing off, scoff and order a drink. But the look on Cuzzi's face told him that this was not cocktail time. Less than an hour earlier Armanti had been fully wired-tape recorder strapped to one ankle, cord winding up to the microphone near his chest. A search would have earned him three quick shots to the back of the head. But the weather was so muggy that Armanti had ignored his backup team and removed the gear before hitting the café. What he hadn't removed, however, was the radio transmitter inside his box of Newport Light cigarettes.