True Detective Stories

There are few people in my division more useless than the officers in the cell room. Yes, they are always busy, and yes, they process a lot of prisoners in a tour, but they chose the job not because they cared, but because they didn’t want to work the street.

On Thursday, the turnkey came upstairs with paperwork for a prisoner. The prisoner was arrested in another division, but the Chinese Wuhan Virus shut down their cell room. The turnkey sits by my desk and says, “This guy doesn’t have an FBI number attached to his paperwork. We need you to go downstairs, talk to him, and see if he is who he says he is.”

This guy and I have gone round and round for years now, so I had to re-explain the procedure to him for the umpteenth time.

“Actually, I don’t have to talk to him, because the policy says any sworn officer can ask the subject questions to confirm his identity. So you, specifically, can ask him that question, since you work in the cell room. Or better yet, you can call the FBI office downtown, and they’ll give you his number!”

Shockingly, the turnkey didn’t want to hear that. “The corporal downtown said you need to do it.”

“Really? So the corporal doesn’t know the policy? Go back downstairs and I’ll send someone to you.”

I grabbed a responsible detective and asked him to go downstairs to verify this guy’s identity. A short time later, the detective came back and said everything was Jake.

On Friday morning, said corporal calls the division and asks for me. The corporal explains the situation – the same situation from Thursday – and asks if I could go and verify this guy’s identity. Now I’m pissed.

“This is a joke, right? We did this yesterday! I sent a detective downstairs because YOUR turnkey refused to do so, and the detective confirmed the offender’s identity. I mean, has this guy been sitting in a cell for two days now?”

The corporal never answered that question, so at least the offender has a pretty good lawsuit if he chose to go that route. “I just need you to go and confirm his identity.”

“You mean again, since we did this yesterday? Look, I get the cell room if filled with bums, and I always have to clean up their messes, but this is ridiculous. I’ll send ANOTHER detective downstairs and have him call you when it’s confirmed.”

There are plenty of days where I come into work and feel like doing the absolute bare minimum. I eventually push myself to start working, because I was brought up to have a good work ethic. Everyone has bad days, but every time these jackasses have a problem they demand we bail them out. Every f**king time.

If you unable or unwilling to do the job, ask to be placed back into patrol.

10 thoughts on “True Detective Stories

  1. “If sense was really common, we’d see more of it.” – Mark Twain

    Remember, 50% of graduates in any profession were part of the bottom half of their class. (And it is beginning to sound like they all got jobs in Philly.)


  2. TX Nick – You’re not wrong. I finished 13th on the Detective exam – truly a miracle – and I am by no beans the brightest bulb in the store. Some of these people, though, you just wonder if they ate lead paint chips.


  3. You failed to mention your number of days left. A requirement for any True Detective post. At least it’s one less than yesterday.


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