True Detective Stories

Yesterday was fun. I was the only detective in the office for the first half hour, the night shift left me ten unassigned jobs, and the phones rang off the hook all tour. One of these phone people made my Aneurysm List.

The man calls the division and says, “I need some information on the status of my case.” I asked him if he had his control number – the report number given to victims when they make a police report – and he cheerfully replied, “No,” with a laugh. So you know how this conversation was going to unfold.

“Well sir, without a control number, it will be difficult to find your case, since we have one hundred detectives assigned here and receive nearly one hundred jobs every day.”

The man laughs again, as if my pending aneurysm is hilarious…

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True Detective Stories

So work Thursday night was miserable. We battled heavy rain storms, stupid phone calls and more jobs than expected for a Thursday evening. While every one of those previous instances were stress-inducing, nothing beat the assault on police debacle.

Just as a point of reference, there is a directive for assault on police jobs. 1. Every officer on the scene needs to be brought to the division for an interview. 2. Every witness needs to be brought for interviews, as well. 3. The crime scene needs to be held, a patrol supervisor and the detective division needs to be notified. 4. A captain or above needs to approve the charges.

Remember that…

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True Detective Stories

If there’s one thing upon which we can all agree, it’s this: never answer a ringing telephone.

On Thursday night, a gentleman called the division and stated he filed a police report and wanted to speak to his detective. The man said he made the report “an hour ago,” and needed to talk to the investigator.

Now in a division as busy as mine, we rarely get reports that quickly unless there is an arrest involved. I asked the man to read off his report number, and after entering it into the database, I located the entry, but the report – obviously – had not yet arrived. Upon hearing the news, the man was not entirely happy with me, as if I was the person who wrote the report.

After a few minutes of whiny pleading, he finally said he was being blackmailed by a younger woman. The woman threatened to vandalize his property and vehicle unless he paid her money. The man never explained why this was happening, just that it was happening. I decided he needed to feel a truth bomb.

“Sir, I understand you’re upset, and this is very important to you. However, in any given day, this division receives dozens and dozens of police reports a day. Tonight there are only four detectives in the office, so while we will work on your report diligently, I cannot guarantee you will be able to speak to a detective today.”

The man ignored every word I said, and gave me this retort. “Well, I would like this report to given to Detective Brown, because he worked on one of my cases a few years ago.”

Sigh. “Sir, that’s not how this works. The job must be assigned to someone working the shift when the report was taking. We do not practice ‘detective shopping.’ Your job will be assigned to a detective and he or she will contact you at their earliest convenience.”

The man finally relented, I bid him farewell, and when I heard him hang up, I slammed the phone down as hard as I could. My coworker walked by and said, “How are you this angry in the first hour of the shift?”

Because people are stupid, Bob. People are stupid.

True Detective Stories

Work yesterday was fabulous! For the first hour it was just me and one other detective, the previous shift left us with a robbery, an aggravated assault, and a missing person with dementia. So, you know, the usual.

While entering these jobs into the database, I came across a theft from auto report. I usually skim those, since the story is always the same. “Dude-Bro states someone entered his vehicle and took his protein powder, yadda, yadda, yadda.” This one, however, was… different.

While this report did feature a Dude-Bro, the items missing from his vehicle included a high-end camera, two designer watches, a pair of diamond earrings, and – wait for it – $15,000 in cash.

I mean, I don’t want to call the guy a liar, but I can’t think of a way to finish that sentence.

…

Oh, this is unrelated, but I have a Kyle update. Yesterday as I was driving to work, Kyle sent me this text message:

“For lunch they had… chicken fried steak. UD wins!”

When I asked him if it was good, he replied, “Surprisingly, it was very good.” The kid is practically a Texan already.

True Detective Stories

So the other day I mentioned the fact I was subpoenaed for a domestic assault case. I was the assigned detective, and despite not being called for any of the preliminaries, I was called for the waiver trial.

Hopes for an in-and-out, early exit, git-‘er-done trial were dashed rather quickly. The offender’s lawyer started making all types of irrational demands, and the victim was in an anteroom, weeping much of the time. (The guy “allegedly” beat the hell out of her.)

The assistant district attorney was new, but she was very nice and straightforward. She didn’t believe I would need to testify, but the arresting officers probably would. She asked if I could stick around, and I agreed.

FOUR HOURS LATER…

The trial was progressing rather smoothly, and at the last minute the offender decided he wanted to testify. I guess his lawyer is hourly. Before the offender took the stand, I saw the two officers walk out of the courtroom. (I always sit in the hallway, because 1. court testimony is boring, and 2. the DA can’t bother me if I’m in the hall.) One of the court officers walked out after the cops, and he had a very angry look on his face.

The three stop where I’m sitting, and one cop says, “Wow, we really f**ked up.” I took out my headphones and asked, “What?” The court officer explained the two arresting officers were sitting in the courtroom before the case began, fell asleep, and slept through the victim’s testimony.

The judge ordered sequestration for every party involved, so the officers’ presence – and nap – was a major violation; one which would usually result in a mistrial.

The ADA came out of the room moments after, and looked at me while my mouth was still agape. I asked, “Is it over?” She responded, “Not yet, but the case is likely going to be tossed because of those officers.” The ADA then apologized to me for the cops’ idiocy, and I replied, “I should be apologizing to you.”

Both lawyers approached the bench and the judge said he would not make a decision at this time, claiming he had to take in all what happened. That’s judge speak for the offender will soon be free as a bird. The entire case, gone, because two officers couldn’t take a 5-Hour Energy.

True Detective Stories

So this was the sight which greeted me this morning as I arrived at work.

The intersection was cordoned off and no one was able to enter the building through the front doors. A vehicle was parked inside the crime scene with its doors open, and police cars surrounded the area. Because, really, is there nothing more satisfying than seeing a crime scene right in front of a Divisional Headquarters?

Apparently, a fine, upstanding gentleman was feeling lonely, so he inquired about a woman’s “stress relief” services. The woman, a working girl, if you will, agreed to the terms and entered the gentleman’s vehicle. Before the stress relief occurred, the working girl needed to reduce her stress by injecting heroin.

Sadly, the woman suffered an overdose and died in the gentleman’s car.

(For the record, I mean that sincerely. Heroin is a blight on this country.)

While the woman was slowly dying, the gentleman and his friend continued driving. After a while the two men realized something was very wrong, and decided to head to the nearest police station. During their journey, they passed a hospital, ignored it, continued to the division, and grabbed an officer.

The depths to which humans will sink never ceases to amaze me.

Courting The System

Today I will be the invisible blogger. Now, you may say to yourself, “But Wyatt, you’re always scarce anymore.” Also yes, but today I have a legitimate reason: I have court.

The case is, naturally, from six months ago. It’s a domestic assault case I handled during one of the days I was alone in the office for the first hour. The case was listed twice already, and our fabulous assistant district attorney’s never saw the need to subpoena me previously. This time, however, the case is listed as “Must Be Tried.”

Either judges or lawyers – ADAs or Defense Attorneys – can request a case be marked “must be tried.” It is usually only granted after three or more court cases where either the victim, the defendant, or the arresting officers failed to show up for court.

The problem with an MBT is it forces everyone involved in the case to appear in court. Normally, I would be happy to go if I was making some sweet, sweet overtime, but I’m daywork today. So instead of doing my primary job, I will be sitting inside a courtroom for hours, listening to boring lawyers argue over minutiae. As a result, a fill-in will be doing my job, which means I’ll spend the first few hours Saturday cleaning up his mess.

So thank you, ADA, for pulling me out of the busiest division in the city to appear at a case where I was never needed.

HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!

Less than one week after six police officers were shot, Philadelphia Police Commissioner Richard Ross has resigned, effectively immediately. According to reports, the commissioner ignored a sexual harassment complaint from a police corporal, who also had a previous affair with the commissioner.