True Detective Stories

The Author, Staring At The Omnipresent Idiocy.
This week is the first time I’ve been on night work since I caught the Covid in March. While I love not waking up at 5:30am for the day shift, I am really starting to despise night work. Especially when it’s 85 degrees (inside the building).

The heat brings out the crazies – actually the cold does, too – and these past four days were no exception. On Sunday, Diego the Idiot Detective caught a shooting incident. Five rounds were fired at a residence, and he had to simply drive to the location, pick up the spent shell casings, grab the report and return. This simply job for a very simple man took four hours.


Our entire shift is only eight hours long, so everyone wanted to know what the f**k he was doing for four hours. Naturally, he had no excuse, and was highly displeased when there were new jobs on his desk. “You’re not immune to work when you’re on the street, Diego,” I told him. Especially when we’re busy. I hate this clown with the red hot intensity of a thousand suns…

Continue reading “True Detective Stories”

True Detective Stories

When I saw Die Hard in the theaters, I was a 19-year old college kid who thought cops were the greatest people in the world. I was a Criminal Justice major – believe me kids, it was a terrible choice – and wanted to become a federal agent. I remember watching the film and saying to myself, “Wow, these police supervisors are so comically portrayed that they’re hardly believable.”

Looking back, John McTiernan portrayed Dwayne T. Robinson and both FBI Agent Johnsons perfectly.

Tuesday night, one of our dumber districts called and said they had an arrest for aggravated assault. Apparently the doer threatened the victim with a knife, and during a scuffle, the doer sliced open his own hand.

Yes, the residents of my division are mostly mutants, thanks for asking.

Anyway, the district officers arrested the offender and claimed they would bring up the victim and witnesses for interviews. The time of that call was 6:07pm. In the meantime, we were busy as hell – see yesterday’s TDS – so I eventually forgot about this particular arrest.

The night dragged on, and around 9:45pm, I looked at my queue and still saw the district’s job, but the officers still hadn’t arrived. “Yo, did anyone see the aggravated assault from the southern district? They called nearly four hours ago?”

Nothing. They still hadn’t brought up the paperwork, the victim, or the witnesses. I figured it was just southern being southern, since they take hours to drive a few miles to the division, and when it was quittin’ time, I went home…

Continue reading “True Detective Stories”

True Detective Stories

Yes, I know I had a TDS posted yesterday, but as bad as Friday was, Saturday was worse.

Our squad is split in half – and early end, which begins at 7am, and a late end, which starts at 8am. Since I run the front desk, I am always early, but with three detectives on vacation and one on military leave, I was the only detective in the building for the first hour.

Naturally, we were busy.

A domestic assault arrest was waiting for me, and while I have to interview the victim – she was bloody and beaten by her asshole boyfriend – I also had to check the teletype printer, answer the phones, and tend to the front window. Plus, the cops who made the arrest had dozens of interrupting questions. By time I finished the interview, took photos of the victim’s injuries, and completed the arrest paperwork, it was nearly 9am. Two hours into my shift, and I hadn’t even begun my daily jobs.

A few hours later, I was sitting at my desk – surly, waiting for the end of my shift – a patrol sergeant calls. He tells me they have an arson at a playground, and they have stopped two pre-teen thugs. (We can’t catch shooters, but teen hijinks are a breeze.) The sergeant wants to know if we want to hold the crime scene. I begin to say, “Actually…” and he cuts me off. He then continues to describe said crime scene, and when he stops, I try again. “Actually…” Nope, the sergeant keeps flapping his gums.

When this idiot finally shuts his dick trap, I respond. “Actually sergeant, we do not handle arson cases.” Perplexed with these facts, he interrogates me, as if I would purposely lie to a supervisor. “Yes, the Fire Marshal handles every aspect of an arson case, which is not actually an arson until the Fire Marshal makes that determination.”

“But the kids lit the slide on fire…”

“I’m sure they did, but again, the Fire Marshal has full control of the scene and the investigation. Further, if he determines the case is an arson, he still must file his report before any arrests can be made. So he’ll make the arrests after filing a warrant.”


“Okay, thanks.” The sergeant hung up.

Annoyed beyond repair, I tell my sergeant about the conversation, and head to the bathroom to pee and maybe retch.

I come back a few minutes later and a patrol sergeant is talking to my sergeant, asking about the arson case. The sergeant tells him exactly what I did, and the patrol sergeant leaves. The motherf**ker apparently didn’t believe me, and wanted to come to the division to double-check. Because, you know, why would a nearly twenty-five year veteran with almost fourteen years as a detective know what he was talking about?

You know, I still like my job, but I despise my department.