Posted by: Blue
There were two murders in the city last night. Two districts were tied-up. At one point, I counted 92 dispatchable calls pending in the queue (not including around 100 call for report cars for break and enters and property crimes.
JT and I bounced from call to call, trying to put out fires before they spread before we were chained down to a Mental Health Act (MHA) call that required a hospital wait. That carried us through the last half of the night.
Showing posts with label Investigations. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Investigations. Show all posts
Sunday, May 17, 2015
Tuesday, January 7, 2014
Escort
Posted by: Blue
A number of months ago, we were dispatched to a Check Wellbeing call. The family of a young woman were outside of the hotel where she was staying. They had tracked her there after clandestine communication with her through text messages to a phone number they had found listed with a picture of her in lingerie on Backpage - a common internet site for seeking-out escorts and hookers.
As the story unraveled, it became apparent that there were quite a number of women working out of this particular hotel, all under the oversight of their "manager" (read: pimp).
This particular newly 18 year old young lady was not willing to leave the hotel with her family. They begged and pleaded with her. JT and I explained all of the dangers. She would not budge. Our supervisor was assigned to the call. He tried to smooth things over; to no avail.
In the end, we had to escort the family off of the premises, as they were not paying customers of the hotel and they had begun disturbing other customers.
In our country, it is not illegal to be a hooker or an escort. It is not illegal to solicit hookers or escorts. It is illegal to Communicate for the Purposes of Prostitution. Communicating for the Purpose is a Summary Conviction Offence (similar to a Misdemeanor in the States). We did not have any evidence of any communication directly relating to sexual services for the exchange of money, and therefore, in the Crown's opinion, there was no evidence to a crime.
According to the hotel manager, it was next to impossible to legally evict someone from a hotel room if they were still paying all of their bills. He looked quite angry when I explained the circumstances of our attendance. It was a reasonably nice hotel.
We submitted an intelligence report for Vice Unit. A short time later, the unwelcome guests vacated the hotel, only to take-up residence in another nearby location.
The family yelled at us, took our badge numbers down and threatened our jobs. It is impossible to explain the black and white of the law to someone who is watching a family member willingly partake in dangerous behaviour. It is impossible to go home content with your work on a day like that.
Unfortunately for everyone, it happens more often than not that we are handcuffed by the letter of the law.
A number of months ago, we were dispatched to a Check Wellbeing call. The family of a young woman were outside of the hotel where she was staying. They had tracked her there after clandestine communication with her through text messages to a phone number they had found listed with a picture of her in lingerie on Backpage - a common internet site for seeking-out escorts and hookers.
As the story unraveled, it became apparent that there were quite a number of women working out of this particular hotel, all under the oversight of their "manager" (read: pimp).
This particular newly 18 year old young lady was not willing to leave the hotel with her family. They begged and pleaded with her. JT and I explained all of the dangers. She would not budge. Our supervisor was assigned to the call. He tried to smooth things over; to no avail.
In the end, we had to escort the family off of the premises, as they were not paying customers of the hotel and they had begun disturbing other customers.
In our country, it is not illegal to be a hooker or an escort. It is not illegal to solicit hookers or escorts. It is illegal to Communicate for the Purposes of Prostitution. Communicating for the Purpose is a Summary Conviction Offence (similar to a Misdemeanor in the States). We did not have any evidence of any communication directly relating to sexual services for the exchange of money, and therefore, in the Crown's opinion, there was no evidence to a crime.
According to the hotel manager, it was next to impossible to legally evict someone from a hotel room if they were still paying all of their bills. He looked quite angry when I explained the circumstances of our attendance. It was a reasonably nice hotel.
We submitted an intelligence report for Vice Unit. A short time later, the unwelcome guests vacated the hotel, only to take-up residence in another nearby location.
The family yelled at us, took our badge numbers down and threatened our jobs. It is impossible to explain the black and white of the law to someone who is watching a family member willingly partake in dangerous behaviour. It is impossible to go home content with your work on a day like that.
Unfortunately for everyone, it happens more often than not that we are handcuffed by the letter of the law.
Thursday, April 18, 2013
Recycling
Posted by: Blue
Last night at around 1:10 AM, we spotted a guy milling around the hooker district.
He was carrying a toilet over his left shoulder and the tank lid in his right hand.
When asked what he was doing with a toilet on his shoulder at 1:10 in the morning, he replied "I'm salvaging it. I work for a landlord."
"Oh."
I don't know what I was expecting.
I really never know what to expect.
Last night at around 1:10 AM, we spotted a guy milling around the hooker district.
He was carrying a toilet over his left shoulder and the tank lid in his right hand.
When asked what he was doing with a toilet on his shoulder at 1:10 in the morning, he replied "I'm salvaging it. I work for a landlord."
"Oh."
I don't know what I was expecting.
I really never know what to expect.
Thursday, March 14, 2013
Hit & Run
Posted by: Blue
Today, we were dispatched to a call for a hit and run collision with a semi trailer hitting a light standard and knocking it down.
Four witnesses phoned-in with the same description and information. We headed to the shipping yard to locate our truck. When we got there, we asked the receptionist if she could call one of her drivers to meet with us. She was very helpful, but she said it might take a while.
"Why?"
"It might be hard to find the driver."
"Can't you just ask dispatch to raise him?"
She laughed. "We have more than 1000 rigs. Each of them has 2 trailers. We can track him down, but it might take a few."
"I see."
1000 tractors is a lot of tractors.
Today, we were dispatched to a call for a hit and run collision with a semi trailer hitting a light standard and knocking it down.
Four witnesses phoned-in with the same description and information. We headed to the shipping yard to locate our truck. When we got there, we asked the receptionist if she could call one of her drivers to meet with us. She was very helpful, but she said it might take a while.
"Why?"
"It might be hard to find the driver."
"Can't you just ask dispatch to raise him?"
She laughed. "We have more than 1000 rigs. Each of them has 2 trailers. We can track him down, but it might take a few."
"I see."
1000 tractors is a lot of tractors.
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
Court
Posted by: Blue
Today, JT had court on a 4 year old drug arrest.
He testified for half an hour and was dismissed. This was the third trial date that had been set. Apparently the accused kept firing his lawyers.
Today, JT had court on a 4 year old drug arrest.
He testified for half an hour and was dismissed. This was the third trial date that had been set. Apparently the accused kept firing his lawyers.
Tuesday, March 5, 2013
Lights Down
Posted by: Blue
Last night, a fire on a hydro pole (utility pole for any Americans) cut power to a few square blocks in an industrial and business area near the airport.
JT and I were stuck directing traffic for 9 hours. When the signals crew finally arrived, it took them all of 6 minutes to solve the problem.
Before that, we had a weapons call. When we showed up, the complainant identified the gun as a "Glock with a brown handle that was a 5-shot revolver, 9mm..." It was apparently in an unidentified male's waistband but only the grip was seen. The complainant was certain of each detail.
We could tell he was lying because of the way he described the gun (not to mention all four of the officer's spidey senses were going haywire). Just try a Google search for a weapon that includes all of those details. If you can find it, you're a better cop than I.
He admitted to his B.S. when I called him on it. JT told him not to lie to the police any more 'cause he wasn't smart enough.
Last night, a fire on a hydro pole (utility pole for any Americans) cut power to a few square blocks in an industrial and business area near the airport.
JT and I were stuck directing traffic for 9 hours. When the signals crew finally arrived, it took them all of 6 minutes to solve the problem.
Before that, we had a weapons call. When we showed up, the complainant identified the gun as a "Glock with a brown handle that was a 5-shot revolver, 9mm..." It was apparently in an unidentified male's waistband but only the grip was seen. The complainant was certain of each detail.
We could tell he was lying because of the way he described the gun (not to mention all four of the officer's spidey senses were going haywire). Just try a Google search for a weapon that includes all of those details. If you can find it, you're a better cop than I.
He admitted to his B.S. when I called him on it. JT told him not to lie to the police any more 'cause he wasn't smart enough.
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
Complaints
Posted by: Blue
Today, my Sergeant sent me a message in the car; "There's an envelope for you in the shift bunk".
It is a formal complaint which has been lodged with the police "watchdog" agency over the conduct of myself and a couple other officers on my shift.
The complainant was arrested for driving impaired and had to be handcuffed and shackled and at times held down to keep her from smashing her head on the cement floor of the cell.
Her children were put into temporary foster care while she was in jail awaiting bail approval.
I try not to take it personally, but every time I think of her, I think of the state that I found those children in; sleeping in a room full of dog shit all over the floor, nothing but rotten food in the fridge and empty cereal boxes on the shelves, dirty, un-bathed and no proper winter clothing to be found.
Her 7 year old girl was in the vehicle with her as she sped drunk and high through residential areas. The poor sweetheart wasn't buckled in and kept rattling around in the trunk area of the van along with all of the empty liquor containers. My Sergeant and I gave her chips and soda while she played games on my iPhone and her mother screamed away in the cell on the floor above us.
I hope she goes to jail for a long time.
At the same time, I hope she doesn't, so her kids never have to enter the foster system permanently. It's worse than all of that because they will likely never have each other again and each other is their only salvation from their mother.
Some people must be stopped from having children. But personal "rights" take priority, even if they infringe on other good and innocent people's rights and freedoms.
Today, my Sergeant sent me a message in the car; "There's an envelope for you in the shift bunk".
It is a formal complaint which has been lodged with the police "watchdog" agency over the conduct of myself and a couple other officers on my shift.
The complainant was arrested for driving impaired and had to be handcuffed and shackled and at times held down to keep her from smashing her head on the cement floor of the cell.
Her children were put into temporary foster care while she was in jail awaiting bail approval.
I try not to take it personally, but every time I think of her, I think of the state that I found those children in; sleeping in a room full of dog shit all over the floor, nothing but rotten food in the fridge and empty cereal boxes on the shelves, dirty, un-bathed and no proper winter clothing to be found.
Her 7 year old girl was in the vehicle with her as she sped drunk and high through residential areas. The poor sweetheart wasn't buckled in and kept rattling around in the trunk area of the van along with all of the empty liquor containers. My Sergeant and I gave her chips and soda while she played games on my iPhone and her mother screamed away in the cell on the floor above us.
I hope she goes to jail for a long time.
At the same time, I hope she doesn't, so her kids never have to enter the foster system permanently. It's worse than all of that because they will likely never have each other again and each other is their only salvation from their mother.
Some people must be stopped from having children. But personal "rights" take priority, even if they infringe on other good and innocent people's rights and freedoms.
Monday, January 28, 2013
Roast Beef
Posted by: Blue
Sometimes the job requires a heavy hand. Sometimes it requires delicacy and tact. Sometimes it requires you to do something you never, ever, ever thought you'd be getting paid to do.
On Thursday, our call was a Sudden Death requiring a notification for the Next of Kin. Pretty standard. One of the harder parts of the job. This one was significantly more complicated though.
The deceased was an octogenarian. His girlfriend was also well into her eighties and suffering from the first stages of Alzheimer's. He had died in her bed... ahem... after... uh... or during... well... there were two blister packs of Viagra found in his pockets... one was empty... um... sheesh.
So buddy was getting some in his golden years. Her daughter didn't approve. Then again, the old girl didn't approve of her daughter's lesbian relationship and wasn't shy to share that with the police and anyone else within earshot. She also apparently didn't approve of the idea of a Black police officer (who happened to be the prime unit's reporting officer that night).
To further complicate things, the elderly missus had not eaten that day and was becoming more confused with all of the excitement. She kept referring to her deceased boyfriend by her previously deceased husband's name. Her daughter was trying to get her to eat, however the daughter happened to be the most patronizing person I have met recently and her mother was resistant to the idea of being parented by her child (naturally).
We were having difficulty ascertaining the identity and particulars of the deceased's son, so our supervisor came with us to the home of the gentleman visitor. During our search for medications and NOK information, what should we stumble across, but a huge stockpile of improperly stored firearms. Shit.
Most of the guns were able to fit into the gun locker which we managed to find a key for. There was, however, a revolver which was unregistered (as restricted weapons, all handguns and a number of other varieties of firearms are required to be registered in Canada). As there were no charges that would be laid against the dead guy, we brought the gun back to the station to be processed as a "found gun" and then turned in for testing and subsequent destruction to our firearms section.
We located the info for the son of the deceased. He lived out of town. The police in his jurisdiction were advised and requested to make the death notification.
We were an evening unit and the prime unit was days. They had a little overtime already, typing up the report for the coroner. We were dealing with the gun. That left the elderly girlfriend and her family alone in the house to "grieve". Unfortunately they were not grieving. They were arguing and bickering.
Dispatch raised us on the radio. There was now a Family Trouble call at the same address.
We headed back.
There was a neighbour over from down the street. Per the daughter, the neighbour was known to steal from her mother. Per the mother and the neighbour, the daughter was the one stealing. There was apparently $100 missing from the 80 year old woman's wallet now.
No one had known about the $100 except for the woman with Alzheimer's. Shit.
Side-note: my partner and I had already dealt with the neighbour prior to that night on a bogus theft call. She and her boyfriend had been reporting a theft by her sister-in-law. Upon arrival, the money had been recovered (apparently it had fallen under the couch).
There was a lot more reasoning and massaging and coaxing. In the end, my Sergeant, partner and myself sat in the house and watched the lady eat a roast beef sandwich on rye and drink a cup of Ensure along with her pills. Then the daughter and her lesbian partner finally satisfied, were escorted back to their car at the mother's request. The neighbour was also removed, leaving the mother alone to go to sleep.
There were no further problems that night.
Sometimes the job requires a heavy hand. Sometimes it requires delicacy and tact. Sometimes it requires you to demand an eighty-something year old widow to muscle-down a dry, tasteless roast beef sandwich with too much mustard for the sake of public peace.
Sometimes the job requires a heavy hand. Sometimes it requires delicacy and tact. Sometimes it requires you to do something you never, ever, ever thought you'd be getting paid to do.
On Thursday, our call was a Sudden Death requiring a notification for the Next of Kin. Pretty standard. One of the harder parts of the job. This one was significantly more complicated though.
The deceased was an octogenarian. His girlfriend was also well into her eighties and suffering from the first stages of Alzheimer's. He had died in her bed... ahem... after... uh... or during... well... there were two blister packs of Viagra found in his pockets... one was empty... um... sheesh.
So buddy was getting some in his golden years. Her daughter didn't approve. Then again, the old girl didn't approve of her daughter's lesbian relationship and wasn't shy to share that with the police and anyone else within earshot. She also apparently didn't approve of the idea of a Black police officer (who happened to be the prime unit's reporting officer that night).
To further complicate things, the elderly missus had not eaten that day and was becoming more confused with all of the excitement. She kept referring to her deceased boyfriend by her previously deceased husband's name. Her daughter was trying to get her to eat, however the daughter happened to be the most patronizing person I have met recently and her mother was resistant to the idea of being parented by her child (naturally).
We were having difficulty ascertaining the identity and particulars of the deceased's son, so our supervisor came with us to the home of the gentleman visitor. During our search for medications and NOK information, what should we stumble across, but a huge stockpile of improperly stored firearms. Shit.
Most of the guns were able to fit into the gun locker which we managed to find a key for. There was, however, a revolver which was unregistered (as restricted weapons, all handguns and a number of other varieties of firearms are required to be registered in Canada). As there were no charges that would be laid against the dead guy, we brought the gun back to the station to be processed as a "found gun" and then turned in for testing and subsequent destruction to our firearms section.
We located the info for the son of the deceased. He lived out of town. The police in his jurisdiction were advised and requested to make the death notification.
We were an evening unit and the prime unit was days. They had a little overtime already, typing up the report for the coroner. We were dealing with the gun. That left the elderly girlfriend and her family alone in the house to "grieve". Unfortunately they were not grieving. They were arguing and bickering.
Dispatch raised us on the radio. There was now a Family Trouble call at the same address.
We headed back.
There was a neighbour over from down the street. Per the daughter, the neighbour was known to steal from her mother. Per the mother and the neighbour, the daughter was the one stealing. There was apparently $100 missing from the 80 year old woman's wallet now.
No one had known about the $100 except for the woman with Alzheimer's. Shit.
Side-note: my partner and I had already dealt with the neighbour prior to that night on a bogus theft call. She and her boyfriend had been reporting a theft by her sister-in-law. Upon arrival, the money had been recovered (apparently it had fallen under the couch).
There was a lot more reasoning and massaging and coaxing. In the end, my Sergeant, partner and myself sat in the house and watched the lady eat a roast beef sandwich on rye and drink a cup of Ensure along with her pills. Then the daughter and her lesbian partner finally satisfied, were escorted back to their car at the mother's request. The neighbour was also removed, leaving the mother alone to go to sleep.
There were no further problems that night.
Sometimes the job requires a heavy hand. Sometimes it requires delicacy and tact. Sometimes it requires you to demand an eighty-something year old widow to muscle-down a dry, tasteless roast beef sandwich with too much mustard for the sake of public peace.
Thursday, January 10, 2013
Identification
Posted by: Blue
When a person has been arrested, they must be positively identified under the Identification of Criminals Act. This includes fingerprinting and photographs as well as documenting any tattoos, birthmarks, scars, missing fingers or limbs, missing or broken teeth, height, hair colour, body type, sex, apparent and actual race, and any other distinguishing features.
When you are fingerprinted with our Service, you are given a fingerprint number for filing into our internal database. When you are added into the federal database, you are given a federal number; an FPS Number (Fingerprint System Number).
When we "run" people, one of the first indicators which we look for is if they have "numbers". If they have numbers it means they've been arrested. If they have numbers on our city database, it means they have a picture on file.
Most of the people we deal with have no ID. They also love to lie to us especially when they have conditions they are breaching or warrants they are evading arrest for. It has become accepted by the courts to identify a person by way of their photograph on our system.
Many a time have I spent finding someone's photo on the system by detail searching tattoos or scars, even height, weight and address. When I have to resort to that, ten to one, a little red icon pops up next to the person's real name indicating a warrant. If there's no warrant, I know that they're breaching court ordered conditions such as a curfew or not to consume intoxicants. Then we take their birthdate and legal name off of our system, run it on the federal system; CPIC (Canadian Police Information Centre). Bingo, up pop the conditions of release and previous convictions.
When a person lies about their name, I usually give them a couple of opportunities to come clean, making sure that they understand that if I have to take them for fingerprinting just to ID them that they're gonna be dealing with a hell of a grumpy cop. If they persist in lying, there are two criminal charges to be decided between: Personation With Intent to Gain Advantage (if the person they are claiming to be is a real person, whether living or dead), or Public Mischief; Cause Someone Else to be Suspected (If the person they are claiming to be does not exist).
Not every time, but almost every time, you can tell when someone is lying almost immediately. They fidget and think too hard. They take longer to answer simple questions and they change their answers to the same question asked two different ways. You can also get a gut feeling over whether or not someone should have numbers and then question why the person with face tattoos that say "West Side", "OG" (original gangster), or "Thug Life 4 Eva" doesn't have a picture on the system.
Other dead give-away tattoos I have seen that make it very hard to lie about who you really are:
When a person has been arrested, they must be positively identified under the Identification of Criminals Act. This includes fingerprinting and photographs as well as documenting any tattoos, birthmarks, scars, missing fingers or limbs, missing or broken teeth, height, hair colour, body type, sex, apparent and actual race, and any other distinguishing features.
When you are fingerprinted with our Service, you are given a fingerprint number for filing into our internal database. When you are added into the federal database, you are given a federal number; an FPS Number (Fingerprint System Number).
When we "run" people, one of the first indicators which we look for is if they have "numbers". If they have numbers it means they've been arrested. If they have numbers on our city database, it means they have a picture on file.
Most of the people we deal with have no ID. They also love to lie to us especially when they have conditions they are breaching or warrants they are evading arrest for. It has become accepted by the courts to identify a person by way of their photograph on our system.
Many a time have I spent finding someone's photo on the system by detail searching tattoos or scars, even height, weight and address. When I have to resort to that, ten to one, a little red icon pops up next to the person's real name indicating a warrant. If there's no warrant, I know that they're breaching court ordered conditions such as a curfew or not to consume intoxicants. Then we take their birthdate and legal name off of our system, run it on the federal system; CPIC (Canadian Police Information Centre). Bingo, up pop the conditions of release and previous convictions.
When a person lies about their name, I usually give them a couple of opportunities to come clean, making sure that they understand that if I have to take them for fingerprinting just to ID them that they're gonna be dealing with a hell of a grumpy cop. If they persist in lying, there are two criminal charges to be decided between: Personation With Intent to Gain Advantage (if the person they are claiming to be is a real person, whether living or dead), or Public Mischief; Cause Someone Else to be Suspected (If the person they are claiming to be does not exist).
Not every time, but almost every time, you can tell when someone is lying almost immediately. They fidget and think too hard. They take longer to answer simple questions and they change their answers to the same question asked two different ways. You can also get a gut feeling over whether or not someone should have numbers and then question why the person with face tattoos that say "West Side", "OG" (original gangster), or "Thug Life 4 Eva" doesn't have a picture on the system.
Other dead give-away tattoos I have seen that make it very hard to lie about who you really are:
- Tear drop tattoos
- FPS number tattooed on the neck or anywhere else (this makes things very easy when we get a surveillance camera still of a robbery or something similar)
- Anything written in cursive on your neck or face
- Dollar signs
- The word "Gangster" anywhere on your body
- Anything that is clearly done in faded ballpoint pen ink, designating it as "prison ink"
- Any number of gang abbreviations or initials
- Profanities tattooed anywhere
- Your own name tattooed on yourself
Monday, December 31, 2012
Family Business
Posted by: Blue
There's one family in my district who is no good. Actually there's a number of them, but one of them in particular seems to grab my attention more than others.
On Friday, we arrested one of them that I had never dealt with before. He had been out of jail 7 days before being re-arrested by us on new Assault charges (domestic) and Breach of Probation.
At ident, the tech looked at him and commented "That's not a very common last name. There was another guy in here with that last name last night. For Robbery I think"
"Really? If he's from the city, I'm related to him." He said, laughing
After getting back into the car, he asked me to look up the report.
I told him which of his family members I was betting it was before pulling up the reports. I told him my guess was that it wasn't a big old fancy robbery of a commercial business but rather that he tried to take some beer at knife point or some such offence.
"That's considered Robbery too?"
"Yup. Robbery is Theft plus Assault. The crime is complete if you have a weapon or imply a weapon or violence plus attempt to cause something to be converted to your use or possession. A Theft at it's root definition doesn't necessarily mean that anything was actually stolen. Just begun or even attempted to be stolen. In the same way, an Assault doesn't necessarily mean that anyone was contacted by a fist or a weapon. Pointing a firearm at someone for example, is an Assault with a Weapon (among numerous other firearms offences). So is handing over a note which implies violence if one's demands aren't met, whether it is expressly written or if only the impression is given."
"Huh."
"Yeah."
I pulled the report. It was a cousin. The offence wasn't Robbery after all. It was Possession of a Controlled Substance for the Purpose of Trafficking (drug dealing charges).
I don't like that family.
There's one family in my district who is no good. Actually there's a number of them, but one of them in particular seems to grab my attention more than others.
On Friday, we arrested one of them that I had never dealt with before. He had been out of jail 7 days before being re-arrested by us on new Assault charges (domestic) and Breach of Probation.
At ident, the tech looked at him and commented "That's not a very common last name. There was another guy in here with that last name last night. For Robbery I think"
"Really? If he's from the city, I'm related to him." He said, laughing
After getting back into the car, he asked me to look up the report.
I told him which of his family members I was betting it was before pulling up the reports. I told him my guess was that it wasn't a big old fancy robbery of a commercial business but rather that he tried to take some beer at knife point or some such offence.
"That's considered Robbery too?"
"Yup. Robbery is Theft plus Assault. The crime is complete if you have a weapon or imply a weapon or violence plus attempt to cause something to be converted to your use or possession. A Theft at it's root definition doesn't necessarily mean that anything was actually stolen. Just begun or even attempted to be stolen. In the same way, an Assault doesn't necessarily mean that anyone was contacted by a fist or a weapon. Pointing a firearm at someone for example, is an Assault with a Weapon (among numerous other firearms offences). So is handing over a note which implies violence if one's demands aren't met, whether it is expressly written or if only the impression is given."
"Huh."
"Yeah."
I pulled the report. It was a cousin. The offence wasn't Robbery after all. It was Possession of a Controlled Substance for the Purpose of Trafficking (drug dealing charges).
I don't like that family.
Thursday, October 4, 2012
Tommy Solami Part II
Posted by: Blue
Two days after we forced Tommy to see a doctor by promising him we wouldn't arrest his girlfriend that night, I ran her name to see if she was still wanted or if she had turned herself in like she had promised.
She had not.
We went and knocked on her door to try to find her. Tommy answered. We asked him where she was. He said he didn't know. He let us check the apartment. We didn't find her there.
Tommy was shirtless. I noticed he had a poorly done tattoo on his left shoulder: TOMMY SOLAMI.
I pointed it out to my partner. We had a good laugh at the misspelt sausage variety he had permanently inked on his body.
When we got back to the station, the legend began. We told our whole shift all about Tommy and Mariah and how we really wanted to arrest her on her warrant after she had lied to us about turning herself in. The tattoo was brought-up, and Tommy Solami began to be a well-known name in the station.
We even had the nickname added as an alias on our system.
We searched high and low for Mariah the next few weeks. We never found her, but all the while, Tommy's fame grew, as we continued to brief the Sergeants on the female we were looking for. The true extent of his infamy will come to light in Part III.
Stay tuned.
Two days after we forced Tommy to see a doctor by promising him we wouldn't arrest his girlfriend that night, I ran her name to see if she was still wanted or if she had turned herself in like she had promised.
She had not.
We went and knocked on her door to try to find her. Tommy answered. We asked him where she was. He said he didn't know. He let us check the apartment. We didn't find her there.
Tommy was shirtless. I noticed he had a poorly done tattoo on his left shoulder: TOMMY SOLAMI.
I pointed it out to my partner. We had a good laugh at the misspelt sausage variety he had permanently inked on his body.
When we got back to the station, the legend began. We told our whole shift all about Tommy and Mariah and how we really wanted to arrest her on her warrant after she had lied to us about turning herself in. The tattoo was brought-up, and Tommy Solami began to be a well-known name in the station.
We even had the nickname added as an alias on our system.
We searched high and low for Mariah the next few weeks. We never found her, but all the while, Tommy's fame grew, as we continued to brief the Sergeants on the female we were looking for. The true extent of his infamy will come to light in Part III.
Stay tuned.
Monday, October 1, 2012
Tommy Solami Part I
Posted by: Blue
Tommy and Mariah were having a domestic. A neighbour called it in that Tommy had come to his door looking for help with blood streaming from his neck.
We showed-up on scene and met the couple who were both drunk. Tommy had a small cut on his neck which he insisted was from falling and cutting himself on a bike wheel. We managed to get it out of him eventually that he was mad at his girlfriend for saying she felt like killing herself sometimes, so he held a knife to his throat to show her how it felt.
But he was drunk and cut himself by accident.
We called an ambulance. Tommy didn't want an ambulance. It was clear from Mariah's behaviour that Tommy was gonna get lucky that night if the cops would just leave them alone to make-up after their argument, but Tommy wouldn't stop bleeding. Probably because his blood was so thinned-out from the alcohol.
It was a busy night and we hadn't put a rush on the bus, so the ambulance was taking a while. JT and I played darts in the living room to pass some time.
A little while later, it was clear that Tommy's neck had stopped bleeding and the cut was clotting itself. Ambulance was still a long ways away. We cancelled the paramedics and I turned to take Mariah's name for my report. She gave me a name and I quickly ran it on our information channel. It came up negative. No involvement with police whatsoever. My spidey sense lit up. She must have a warrant or court-ordered conditions to abstain from alcohol. We brought her down to the car to try to ID her.
It took a while, but we finally got her real name out of her. She had a warrant. It was a cheap one for FTA court. They were a dime a dozen. She didn't have a bad record. Just some silly youth charge. I was about to arrest her, but then we looked over to Tommy who had come down to the car. There was a huge puddle of blood at his feet. He had started gushing again.
We ordered another bus on a rush. We punted her from the car and told her to turn herself in on her warrant first thing the next day. Then we took Tommy with the ambulance 'cause he was still refusing treatment.
Tommy ended-up getting stitched back together. He was complaining to the nurse about us keeping him there. The nurse told him he would have bled to death if we hadn't.
That was the first time I met Tommy. Stay tuned for parts II to IV.
Tommy and Mariah were having a domestic. A neighbour called it in that Tommy had come to his door looking for help with blood streaming from his neck.
We showed-up on scene and met the couple who were both drunk. Tommy had a small cut on his neck which he insisted was from falling and cutting himself on a bike wheel. We managed to get it out of him eventually that he was mad at his girlfriend for saying she felt like killing herself sometimes, so he held a knife to his throat to show her how it felt.
But he was drunk and cut himself by accident.
We called an ambulance. Tommy didn't want an ambulance. It was clear from Mariah's behaviour that Tommy was gonna get lucky that night if the cops would just leave them alone to make-up after their argument, but Tommy wouldn't stop bleeding. Probably because his blood was so thinned-out from the alcohol.
It was a busy night and we hadn't put a rush on the bus, so the ambulance was taking a while. JT and I played darts in the living room to pass some time.
A little while later, it was clear that Tommy's neck had stopped bleeding and the cut was clotting itself. Ambulance was still a long ways away. We cancelled the paramedics and I turned to take Mariah's name for my report. She gave me a name and I quickly ran it on our information channel. It came up negative. No involvement with police whatsoever. My spidey sense lit up. She must have a warrant or court-ordered conditions to abstain from alcohol. We brought her down to the car to try to ID her.
It took a while, but we finally got her real name out of her. She had a warrant. It was a cheap one for FTA court. They were a dime a dozen. She didn't have a bad record. Just some silly youth charge. I was about to arrest her, but then we looked over to Tommy who had come down to the car. There was a huge puddle of blood at his feet. He had started gushing again.
We ordered another bus on a rush. We punted her from the car and told her to turn herself in on her warrant first thing the next day. Then we took Tommy with the ambulance 'cause he was still refusing treatment.
Tommy ended-up getting stitched back together. He was complaining to the nurse about us keeping him there. The nurse told him he would have bled to death if we hadn't.
That was the first time I met Tommy. Stay tuned for parts II to IV.
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
Escalation
Posted by: Blue
Tonight we had a Domestic Assault arrest.
He had punched her repeatedly in the face and then choked her. We were called because a neighbour heard her begging him to stop. Her screams got quieter as she got closer to passing-out.
When we arrested him, he kept asking if she would be okay. I said: "I think she'll be fine if she never sees you again".
Upon reviewing his record, it came to light that this was the fifth time he had been arrested for assaulting her.
She declined to provide a formal statement each time, including tonight. Each time the charges were dropped. Each time she went back to him 'cause he said "sorry".
Maybe he'll kill her next time.
We can solve the crime. Not the life.
Tonight we had a Domestic Assault arrest.
He had punched her repeatedly in the face and then choked her. We were called because a neighbour heard her begging him to stop. Her screams got quieter as she got closer to passing-out.
When we arrested him, he kept asking if she would be okay. I said: "I think she'll be fine if she never sees you again".
Upon reviewing his record, it came to light that this was the fifth time he had been arrested for assaulting her.
She declined to provide a formal statement each time, including tonight. Each time the charges were dropped. Each time she went back to him 'cause he said "sorry".
Maybe he'll kill her next time.
We can solve the crime. Not the life.
Friday, August 10, 2012
Noisy
Posted by: Blue
On our last night shift, we took a noise complaint. One of the occupants of an apartment block was complaining that another was keeping her awake, throwing beer cans from the balcony, spitting, and speaking loudly or shouting.
We went into the problem apartment. It was quiet. The one male who was still awake pointed us towards the balcony. As I stood outside and called my partner over to observe the saliva stains on the pavement which had been spit off of their third floor balcony, the dude had the nerve to ask us to keep it down while we were talking on the balcony, as "Sound carries really well out there and I'm just thinking of others."
He was politely explained that we were the police, investigating a noise complaint and that we had no desire at the moment we walked into the apartment to start issuing tickets, however the situation could easily escalate to a fine or a trip to the drunk tank if he cared to continue his attitude and smart-assery. I told him matter-o-factly that there was always an arrestable criminal charge for Causing a Disturbance if he really wanted to be a wise guy.
The bluff worked. He apologized, shut his trap and we had no more problems from that suite that night.
On our last night shift, we took a noise complaint. One of the occupants of an apartment block was complaining that another was keeping her awake, throwing beer cans from the balcony, spitting, and speaking loudly or shouting.
We went into the problem apartment. It was quiet. The one male who was still awake pointed us towards the balcony. As I stood outside and called my partner over to observe the saliva stains on the pavement which had been spit off of their third floor balcony, the dude had the nerve to ask us to keep it down while we were talking on the balcony, as "Sound carries really well out there and I'm just thinking of others."
He was politely explained that we were the police, investigating a noise complaint and that we had no desire at the moment we walked into the apartment to start issuing tickets, however the situation could easily escalate to a fine or a trip to the drunk tank if he cared to continue his attitude and smart-assery. I told him matter-o-factly that there was always an arrestable criminal charge for Causing a Disturbance if he really wanted to be a wise guy.
The bluff worked. He apologized, shut his trap and we had no more problems from that suite that night.
Saturday, July 28, 2012
Masked Bandits
Posted by: Blue
We were looking for an intoxicated male who had Asperger Syndrome.
He had been evicted by his landlord a few months ago and was now making false reports of all manner of things, attempting to get the landlord into trouble. He would call from an unregistered telephone or payphone and today he was reporting that the landlord was beating his girlfriend, and there was "blood everywhere!"
We were searching the area, believing our suspect to be on the lam in the area. A brief conversation with a couple of passers-by revealed that they had seen a male matching the description stumbling drunkenly through a yard just a few minutes ago, tripping himself in the hedges as he went.
We followed their direction and quickly found a pair of sunglasses and three empty beer bottles along the path that they had seen him on.
We headed through the yard and into the dark alley; kept our flashlights off to avoid illuminating ourselves and to maintain our night vision.
My partner was about 40 yards ahead of me. Suddenly I saw his head snap to the right and the bright white LED beam of his Streamlight lit up the bushes of the backyard. He hollered. I came running.
There were three of them, all in a row, slinking along the fence. The biggest one was in the lead. They were all masked and wearing heavy coats, despite the hot weather.
We stared at them and they stared right back.
There we stood in silence for a few seconds until my partner turned out the light, and the family of raccoons disappeared into the night like ninjas.
Never did find our suspect.
We were looking for an intoxicated male who had Asperger Syndrome.
He had been evicted by his landlord a few months ago and was now making false reports of all manner of things, attempting to get the landlord into trouble. He would call from an unregistered telephone or payphone and today he was reporting that the landlord was beating his girlfriend, and there was "blood everywhere!"
We were searching the area, believing our suspect to be on the lam in the area. A brief conversation with a couple of passers-by revealed that they had seen a male matching the description stumbling drunkenly through a yard just a few minutes ago, tripping himself in the hedges as he went.
We followed their direction and quickly found a pair of sunglasses and three empty beer bottles along the path that they had seen him on.
We headed through the yard and into the dark alley; kept our flashlights off to avoid illuminating ourselves and to maintain our night vision.
My partner was about 40 yards ahead of me. Suddenly I saw his head snap to the right and the bright white LED beam of his Streamlight lit up the bushes of the backyard. He hollered. I came running.
There were three of them, all in a row, slinking along the fence. The biggest one was in the lead. They were all masked and wearing heavy coats, despite the hot weather.
We stared at them and they stared right back.
There we stood in silence for a few seconds until my partner turned out the light, and the family of raccoons disappeared into the night like ninjas.
Never did find our suspect.
Friday, July 27, 2012
Magnetic Personalities
Posted by: Blue
My partner and I are both classified as Shit-Magnets on our shift (Definition courtesy of Raindog).
We find: fires, drunks, warrants, fights, assaults, missing persons who we are not assigned to look for, drugs, weapons, break & enters in progress, drivers without licenses, unregistered vehicles and anything else you could care to name.Sometimes Often all at once.
It is to the point where if I am driving and say "Hey, look at this...", my partner will intentionally look the exact opposite direction and say "Where!? I don't see a thing! You'd better keep driving!" I of course reciprocate when the tables turn.
But we always cave, turn off the blinders, and pinch the dum-dum.
He says I care too much about doing a good job, and tells me "That's why you're gonna be a good cop. You'll be a good cop, but I'll be a happy cop."
He doesn't like to admit that he cares just as much.
My partner and I are both classified as Shit-Magnets on our shift (Definition courtesy of Raindog).
We find: fires, drunks, warrants, fights, assaults, missing persons who we are not assigned to look for, drugs, weapons, break & enters in progress, drivers without licenses, unregistered vehicles and anything else you could care to name.
It is to the point where if I am driving and say "Hey, look at this...", my partner will intentionally look the exact opposite direction and say "Where!? I don't see a thing! You'd better keep driving!" I of course reciprocate when the tables turn.
But we always cave, turn off the blinders, and pinch the dum-dum.
He says I care too much about doing a good job, and tells me "That's why you're gonna be a good cop. You'll be a good cop, but I'll be a happy cop."
He doesn't like to admit that he cares just as much.
Wednesday, July 4, 2012
Code
Posted by: Blue
Our Service's radio chatter is made in plain speak.
If we need another unit, we say: "We need another unit."
If we're chasing someone, we say "Foot pursuit."
If there's an armed robbery we're responding to, the dispatcher says "Delta 203 responding to an armed robbery."
There is no ten-code or twelve-code as many departments and services have.
There are however a few relics of code kicking around from back in the day:
Our Service's radio chatter is made in plain speak.
If we need another unit, we say: "We need another unit."
If we're chasing someone, we say "Foot pursuit."
If there's an armed robbery we're responding to, the dispatcher says "Delta 203 responding to an armed robbery."
There is no ten-code or twelve-code as many departments and services have.
There are however a few relics of code kicking around from back in the day:
- 99-06: Subject with mental health issues (there are also "99" codes for gang association, drugs, violence and family violence but only a few of the longest-serving members use them and I always mix them up).
- 10-33: Officer(s) taken hostage.
- Code 69: Plainclothes officers on scene.
- Zulu: Prefix for unit who has activated one of the many emergency buttons on their vehicle or personal radios, ie.: "Zulu Delta 203, what is your location?"
- Tango-Zulu: Used when you're about to Tazer someone and you don't want them to know and you want to ensure fingers are off triggers to avoid sympathetic responses to a trigger pull on the Tazer.
We have incident cards that we provide to complainants which have our report number on them along with telephone numbers to the non-emergency line for dispatch, as well as the responding officers' badge numbers. It has long been practised to provide the badge number of 9906 to any "difficult" complainants to alert anyone on the other end of the complaint phone call that the complaint is likely unfounded. I always put the proper incident number however, which links to our badge numbers anyway.
Monday, March 26, 2012
The Elusive Truth
Back in the fall while dealing with a third party who was sticking their nose too far into an investigation and "demanding" a certain person be arrested, my partner JT said:
"Listen! Arresting people is easy. I could do that all day long. My job is to try to find the truth.... and that is a much, much harder thing to do."
"Listen! Arresting people is easy. I could do that all day long. My job is to try to find the truth.... and that is a much, much harder thing to do."
Monday, January 23, 2012
"I'll Rip Your Bones Out!"
Posted by: Blue
Today, we took a call for threats made to a complainant over the phone.
Per dispatch, an unknown male had called our complainant 3 times and hung-up each time. The complainant called back the number on the call display, enquiring as to the reason for the calls. The male on the other end told her if she didn't stop calling, he would come over and "Rip your bones out!"
The calls were coming to a small business's front desk. When we arrived and verified our dispatch info, the complainant laughed and said "No... rip the phones out!"
My partner called the number from the call display... a male answered.
Long story short, the male had been in the middle of a prostate exam when he had received a call from what he thought was the complainant's number. He answered in the middle of the exam and that's why he said he was so upset.
He must have been in the middle of another exam, because he yelled at my partner too.
I couldn't stop laughing.
Today, we took a call for threats made to a complainant over the phone.
Per dispatch, an unknown male had called our complainant 3 times and hung-up each time. The complainant called back the number on the call display, enquiring as to the reason for the calls. The male on the other end told her if she didn't stop calling, he would come over and "Rip your bones out!"
The calls were coming to a small business's front desk. When we arrived and verified our dispatch info, the complainant laughed and said "No... rip the phones out!"
My partner called the number from the call display... a male answered.
Long story short, the male had been in the middle of a prostate exam when he had received a call from what he thought was the complainant's number. He answered in the middle of the exam and that's why he said he was so upset.
He must have been in the middle of another exam, because he yelled at my partner too.
I couldn't stop laughing.
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Fraud
Posted by: Blue
Two days ago, I was temporarily assigned (TA'd) to the downtown division for the night. I took a false alarm commercial hold-up alarm and then we were assigned to a disturbance at a nearby restaurant.
We arrived on scene to find a beligerent male who had tried to pay for his meal with a credit card. The transaction was declined and the male became agitated when the manager asked him if he remembered his PIN.
Long story short, this guy had stolen a credit card from his newly deceased roommate and decided to go out for a night on the town.
Identity theft and idetity fraud are a little tricky to write-up, but my task was made even more difficult as the accused kept pestering us to use the bathroom every few minutes.
After the third time in the bathroom in less than 20 minutes, he had the audacity to ask me what was taking so long and why he wasn't on his way to Provincial Remand yet. I told him that if he could hold his bowels for more than 4 minutes at a time, I might be able to finish briefing my Sgt. and get on with my reports.
The accused looked me square in the eye and said "It's that damn 'Paki' food. It gave me diarrhea. I'm never going back there."
I told him that he was most assuredly less than welcome anyway, as he had stolen his meal that night and then made an ass of himself first with the staff and then with my partner and I. I then proceeded to explain to him that the family restaurant which he had ingratiatingly attempted to defraud with a credit card belonging to the estate of a recently deceased friend and cancer patient was in fact East Indian in race, and it would behove a gentleman in his position to keep a civil tongue in his head as I was getting tired of potty-training at the moment.
He told me that he was glad I was doing my job so well and that it was just what God wanted me to do. He said that he had it all planned out, because he had been evicted of late by the "landlady from hell" and he was looking forward to staying in the "Remand Hotel".
I told him that I was glad that he was excited to go to jail, but that it was the taxpayers of the Province sending him there due to his crimes, not God.
Some people just don't get it.
Two days ago, I was temporarily assigned (TA'd) to the downtown division for the night. I took a false alarm commercial hold-up alarm and then we were assigned to a disturbance at a nearby restaurant.
We arrived on scene to find a beligerent male who had tried to pay for his meal with a credit card. The transaction was declined and the male became agitated when the manager asked him if he remembered his PIN.
Long story short, this guy had stolen a credit card from his newly deceased roommate and decided to go out for a night on the town.
Identity theft and idetity fraud are a little tricky to write-up, but my task was made even more difficult as the accused kept pestering us to use the bathroom every few minutes.
After the third time in the bathroom in less than 20 minutes, he had the audacity to ask me what was taking so long and why he wasn't on his way to Provincial Remand yet. I told him that if he could hold his bowels for more than 4 minutes at a time, I might be able to finish briefing my Sgt. and get on with my reports.
The accused looked me square in the eye and said "It's that damn 'Paki' food. It gave me diarrhea. I'm never going back there."
I told him that he was most assuredly less than welcome anyway, as he had stolen his meal that night and then made an ass of himself first with the staff and then with my partner and I. I then proceeded to explain to him that the family restaurant which he had ingratiatingly attempted to defraud with a credit card belonging to the estate of a recently deceased friend and cancer patient was in fact East Indian in race, and it would behove a gentleman in his position to keep a civil tongue in his head as I was getting tired of potty-training at the moment.
He told me that he was glad I was doing my job so well and that it was just what God wanted me to do. He said that he had it all planned out, because he had been evicted of late by the "landlady from hell" and he was looking forward to staying in the "Remand Hotel".
I told him that I was glad that he was excited to go to jail, but that it was the taxpayers of the Province sending him there due to his crimes, not God.
Some people just don't get it.
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