The French Connection: A True Account of Cops, Narcotics, and International Conspiracy Investigation
With a new introduction by the author.\ The true, absorbing and sometimes frightening documentary of the world's most successful narcotics investigation, The French Connection is one of the most fascinating crime accounts of our time. When New York City detectives Eddie "Popeye" Egan and his partner Sonny Grosso routinely tail Pasquale "Patsy" Fuca, after observing some wild spending at the Copacabana, they quickly realize that they are on to something really big. Patsy is not only the nephew...
Search in google:
A gripping account of an extraordinary international narcotics case as it unfolds on the streets of New York City, The French Connection is an absorbing and sometimes frightening documentary of the world's most successful narcotics investigation. A best-seller and the basis of the classic film of the same title, The French Connection remains one of the finest and most fascinating chronicles of police work ever written.When New York City detectives Eddie "Popeye" Egan and his partner Sonny Grosso routinely tail the nephew of a fugitive mob boss, after observing some wild spending at the Copacabana, they quickly realize they're on to something big - an impending delivery of narcotics. The mobster's incongruous connections are with several distinguished Frenchmen, including the director of the world's largest heroin network and a star of French television. For many suspense-filled months, through opulent Manhattan nightclubs, dark tenements in Brooklyn and the Bronx, tree-lined streets of the genteel Upper East Side, and in Paris, Marseilles, and Palermo, the duel is on - the prize 112 pounds of pure heroin. Over three hundred investigators from local, state, federal, and international agencies are ultimately involved in the hours of weary surveillance, the skilled intuition, the luck - both good and bad - and the danger.
It was shortly after 2:00 A.M., Tuesday, when the agent up front in the closet heard a faint shuffle of footsteps outside. He doused the light and opened the door of his hiding place a crack, hands gripping the shotgun. The cellar door creaked open, letting in a rush of cold night air. The door closed softly. The slight scraping of feet on the cement floor sounded like two men. They were moving slowly past the paint locker, now pausing at the mouth of the passage to the rear. Suddenly shafts from two flashlights pierced the darkness. One swept the entry hall, then in a quick step one of the visitors reached up to pull the chain dangling from a ceiling bulb. Simultaneously the cellar entry was flooded with light and a voice barked: "All right! Police! Who's down there?"\ There was no time for a reply, for the other officer cried: "Wait! Look out!" The two agents in the alcove were emerging from the shadows, revolvers in hand. The startled cops crouched, prepared for violence. But a sharp voice rang from the blackness of the boiler room: "Hold it, f'Christsake! We're all police officers!" In a moment, a light blinked on in the rear of the cellar, and the Narcotics Bureau's Jimmy O'Brien was advancing with his gold shield in hand.
