Posted by: Blue
Last night, the network server room in HQ overheated. All the police computers went down across the city except our car's CAD, which is on a separate server.
We could be dispatched to calls, but could not do anything once there. No record checks, no license plate running, no reporting, no fingerprinting, no e-mail.
We locked up our domestic arrest old school. Straight to jail with no reports.
I could get used to that.
Showing posts with label Reports. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Reports. Show all posts
Friday, May 30, 2014
Friday, May 17, 2013
Child Welfare
Posted by: Blue
Last night we picked up 2 "missing" persons A.K.A. runaways.
The first was a chronic child (10 y/o) runaway. He leaves his foster shelter every few days and walks to his birth mom's house, often in bare feet and not dressed for the weather.
Due to the chronic nature of his running and the fact that his "caregivers" keep allowing this small boy to be put in danger by allowing him to walk right out the door (this past time, he reports that the worker said "go ahead! run off!"), he was brought back to the central after-hours shellter. We told the worker that alternative locations would be required to be found. Then he had this following conversation with the boy:
Worker: "So we're going to bring you back to that house OK? There's no other place for you to be."
Boy: "OK."
Worker: "Are you going to stay there?"
Boy: "I'm going to go to sleep tonight and then run away again tomorrow."
Worker: "Well you shouldn't do that."
Boy: "I will! I want to see my mom!"
Worker: "Well I think we should have a talk about that."
Boy: "I'm going to keep running away. You can't put your hands on me to stop me."
Worker: "I'd like it if you just promised to stay so I don't have to."
Boy: "I'm going to run away whenever I want."
Me: "And this is why he needs a different placement where they are not afraid to take care of him properly and prevent him from running."
Worker: "I'll keep him here for a few hours until he's ready for bed and then bring him back there."
Me: "But he is just going to run again."
Worker: "I think he understands he can't be doing that."
Me: "Are you kidding me? It's abundantly clear that he does NOT understand that nor does he care to try. This boy needs to be somewhere safe and it is your job to put him there."
Worker: "There is nowhere for him to go other than that house."
Me: "Alright. I have no authority to do any differently. My report is going to reflect your neglect and the neglect of the staff at that house to care for this child."
Worker: "Fair enough."
Me: "Maybe for you. Not for him."
Last night we picked up 2 "missing" persons A.K.A. runaways.
The first was a chronic child (10 y/o) runaway. He leaves his foster shelter every few days and walks to his birth mom's house, often in bare feet and not dressed for the weather.
Due to the chronic nature of his running and the fact that his "caregivers" keep allowing this small boy to be put in danger by allowing him to walk right out the door (this past time, he reports that the worker said "go ahead! run off!"), he was brought back to the central after-hours shellter. We told the worker that alternative locations would be required to be found. Then he had this following conversation with the boy:
Worker: "So we're going to bring you back to that house OK? There's no other place for you to be."
Boy: "OK."
Worker: "Are you going to stay there?"
Boy: "I'm going to go to sleep tonight and then run away again tomorrow."
Worker: "Well you shouldn't do that."
Boy: "I will! I want to see my mom!"
Worker: "Well I think we should have a talk about that."
Boy: "I'm going to keep running away. You can't put your hands on me to stop me."
Worker: "I'd like it if you just promised to stay so I don't have to."
Boy: "I'm going to run away whenever I want."
Me: "And this is why he needs a different placement where they are not afraid to take care of him properly and prevent him from running."
Worker: "I'll keep him here for a few hours until he's ready for bed and then bring him back there."
Me: "But he is just going to run again."
Worker: "I think he understands he can't be doing that."
Me: "Are you kidding me? It's abundantly clear that he does NOT understand that nor does he care to try. This boy needs to be somewhere safe and it is your job to put him there."
Worker: "There is nowhere for him to go other than that house."
Me: "Alright. I have no authority to do any differently. My report is going to reflect your neglect and the neglect of the staff at that house to care for this child."
Worker: "Fair enough."
Me: "Maybe for you. Not for him."
Friday, March 29, 2013
Good Friday
Posted by: Blue
Last night was busy. Two arrests before lunch; I cut myself on a window while breaking into a house on a weapons call; seven other calls including a hospital wait and 3 or 4 traffic stops.
I like nights like that. It's the paperwork that I hate. I could arrest people all night long, go to domestics, B&E's, guns, drugs, gangs. I love the job. But that damn paperwork is a killer. Every so often, the powers that be attempt to "streamline" everything by adding some more paperwork. Usually a check-sheet or form. The hardest part of the job is trying to remember what damn forms you need and how to fill them out properly.
But I digress.
Last year, the day after Good Friday was dead. I'm hoping for the same this year to catch up on the unnecessary evil of the paperwork after all of the important things we've been doing.
Last night was busy. Two arrests before lunch; I cut myself on a window while breaking into a house on a weapons call; seven other calls including a hospital wait and 3 or 4 traffic stops.
I like nights like that. It's the paperwork that I hate. I could arrest people all night long, go to domestics, B&E's, guns, drugs, gangs. I love the job. But that damn paperwork is a killer. Every so often, the powers that be attempt to "streamline" everything by adding some more paperwork. Usually a check-sheet or form. The hardest part of the job is trying to remember what damn forms you need and how to fill them out properly.
But I digress.
Last year, the day after Good Friday was dead. I'm hoping for the same this year to catch up on the unnecessary evil of the paperwork after all of the important things we've been doing.
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, November 15, 2012
Quiet
Posted by: Blue
Last night was quiet.
Quiet is a bad word. It usually means the bad guys are regrouping and planning a sneak attack.
The longer the quiet time, the more violent the uprising.
But while it was quiet, JT and I were resting, completing paperwork, and shooting the shit with the SGT and the rest of the shift. It was a welcome change of pace for the night shift.
Last night was quiet.
Quiet is a bad word. It usually means the bad guys are regrouping and planning a sneak attack.
The longer the quiet time, the more violent the uprising.
But while it was quiet, JT and I were resting, completing paperwork, and shooting the shit with the SGT and the rest of the shift. It was a welcome change of pace for the night shift.
Saturday, June 9, 2012
Fatigue
Posted by: Blue
Yesterday, I worked all day installing a kitchen and then worked all night in a cruiser.
I fell asleep at around 6:15 a.m. while typing a report. I ended up with two pages of:
"ffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff"
I was meant to be on Annual Leave this week but something got messed-up on the schedule so I had to go in to work, but I didn't have another day for at least six weeks when I could put in the cabinets.
When the shift was ending, all 3 night crews in the district were in the station on arrests with 2 of the 3 evening cars held-over (also both grounded in the station), and the city was well-established into a raging inferno of criminal activity and looked to be burning to the ground, metaphorically speaking (literally in the case of a few arson calls). 143 calls in the queue with 9 priority 2's (immediate danger including active assaults in progress). The most I have seen thus far in my career have been 3 or 4 P2's. The dispatcher was calling the Sgt.'s and desperately searching for a crew that could respond. Everyone was tied down.
The Sgt. said we looked like zombies. I said: "Brrraaaaaaiiiiins!!!" and laughed like a hyena. Couldn't help it. It wasn't really funny, but I was giddy with exhaustion. He said he was thinking of sending us out to shag calls but after looking at us, he decided we were more of a liability than an asset out there.
I promised I would be better rested for tonight.
Yesterday, I worked all day installing a kitchen and then worked all night in a cruiser.
I fell asleep at around 6:15 a.m. while typing a report. I ended up with two pages of:
"ffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff"
I was meant to be on Annual Leave this week but something got messed-up on the schedule so I had to go in to work, but I didn't have another day for at least six weeks when I could put in the cabinets.
When the shift was ending, all 3 night crews in the district were in the station on arrests with 2 of the 3 evening cars held-over (also both grounded in the station), and the city was well-established into a raging inferno of criminal activity and looked to be burning to the ground, metaphorically speaking (literally in the case of a few arson calls). 143 calls in the queue with 9 priority 2's (immediate danger including active assaults in progress). The most I have seen thus far in my career have been 3 or 4 P2's. The dispatcher was calling the Sgt.'s and desperately searching for a crew that could respond. Everyone was tied down.
The Sgt. said we looked like zombies. I said: "Brrraaaaaaiiiiins!!!" and laughed like a hyena. Couldn't help it. It wasn't really funny, but I was giddy with exhaustion. He said he was thinking of sending us out to shag calls but after looking at us, he decided we were more of a liability than an asset out there.
I promised I would be better rested for tonight.
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, February 6, 2012
Cheque's in the Mail
Posted by: Blue
A friend of mine and her pal found a Ziploc bag full of money on the sidewalk on a busy street corner on Halloween 2011. She turned it in to the police station.
I told a number of people her story. Their responses were generally puzzled and sometimes even indignant that she hadn't pocketed the dough.
Yesterday she told me that the time limit had expired for the person who lost it to claim it.
She and her friend will be splitting the $5000.00 cheque that the Service is mailing to her 50/50.
Guess it's not so crazy to do the right thing.
A friend of mine and her pal found a Ziploc bag full of money on the sidewalk on a busy street corner on Halloween 2011. She turned it in to the police station.
I told a number of people her story. Their responses were generally puzzled and sometimes even indignant that she hadn't pocketed the dough.
Yesterday she told me that the time limit had expired for the person who lost it to claim it.
She and her friend will be splitting the $5000.00 cheque that the Service is mailing to her 50/50.
Guess it's not so crazy to do the right thing.
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.
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Day Shift: Tour # 4
Posted by: Blue
Yesterday, my partner took the day off to go to his son's hockey game. That meant our shift was short.
I drove down to the district South of us to pick-up a temporary partner. He offered to jump first. We got stuck taking care of the property from a string of vehicle break-ins.
We logged property all day long.
We caught the guy, so at least it was worth it.
Yesterday, my partner took the day off to go to his son's hockey game. That meant our shift was short.
I drove down to the district South of us to pick-up a temporary partner. He offered to jump first. We got stuck taking care of the property from a string of vehicle break-ins.
We logged property all day long.
We caught the guy, so at least it was worth it.
Thursday, November 3, 2011
Day Shift: Tour # 2
Posted by: Blue
Today was traffic court. For my partner. He told me to find something better to do with my time than sit around waiting for him.
I took the car a few blocks over and met for breakfast with another half of a cruiser car, a school resource officer, and a guy out of a specialty unit in one of the districts to the South of us.
I like breakfast. It's my favourite meal to eat at a restaurant. But our household is on a tight budget with the new career and the new cut in pay that comes with it. I just had a water.
Now, just so you know I didn't do nothing all day, the rest of my day was filled with:
Tomorrow we will see how the weekend is going to start.
Today was traffic court. For my partner. He told me to find something better to do with my time than sit around waiting for him.
I took the car a few blocks over and met for breakfast with another half of a cruiser car, a school resource officer, and a guy out of a specialty unit in one of the districts to the South of us.
I like breakfast. It's my favourite meal to eat at a restaurant. But our household is on a tight budget with the new career and the new cut in pay that comes with it. I just had a water.
Now, just so you know I didn't do nothing all day, the rest of my day was filled with:
- Info on a Warrant: Probation Officer called it in. While enroute, the suspect left the dispatch location. Another unit picked him up. We showed up, with another unit and the supervisor. The unit who had found him had court in twenty minutes. I played "paper/rock/scissors" with the third unit to see who would process him on the warrant. They lost.
- Suicide Threat: Other end of the city. Mom called concerned about her daughter. Daughter was fine, just mad at mom because mom was threatening to stop paying her bills. We told her not to text her mom things like "maybe I'll just kill myself" just to get her mad. Then we called Child and Family Services from the car to notify them that this mother might just need a little bit of care as she seemed to be overwhelmed with her children as a single parent. When we returned to give her some resources and phone numbers, she slammed the door in our faces, telling us "not to bother her with that stuff".
- Wellbeing Check: Assigned as we were cruising by right after clearing the Suicide Threat. Suddenly cleared before arrival by dispatch, sent back across the city for a high priority Domestic Dispute. Cleared again by dispatch five minutes later and half-way there, put back on our Wellbeing Check. Arrived shortly thereafter, female complainant gone. Security guard on scene advised she had been "tripping out", running around naked. They kicked her out. She left on the bus. We checked all of her known hang-outs, no luck.
- Traffic Stop: On the way back to the station to type all of our paper. The driver passed a bus in the oncoming lane while it was picking up passengers, narrowly missing an SUV directly in front of our cruiser. I was going to tag her fiercely, but my partner convinced me to give her a warning because of her sterling driving record. I conceded, and just wagged my finger for a while before telling her to thank my partner for the break. She did. Sincerely.
- Report Writing: By the end of the day we both had a few reports to write, including a couple from yesterday. I finished 12 minutes after quitting time.
Tomorrow we will see how the weekend is going to start.
Friday, October 28, 2011
B&E
Posted by: Blue
Two shifts ago, my partner and I took a statement from a homeowner on a Break and Enter that had occurred while he was at work.
Total cost of the stolen items was close to $10,000. The thieves took a white canvas bag with red lettering on the side from the house to carry the merchandise out.
Today, while on course, I ran into a detective from our division. He and his partner nabbed one of the culprits the next day. He was carrying a white canvas bag with red lettering and the detective recognized it from my report.
Sucker.
Two shifts ago, my partner and I took a statement from a homeowner on a Break and Enter that had occurred while he was at work.
Total cost of the stolen items was close to $10,000. The thieves took a white canvas bag with red lettering on the side from the house to carry the merchandise out.
Today, while on course, I ran into a detective from our division. He and his partner nabbed one of the culprits the next day. He was carrying a white canvas bag with red lettering and the detective recognized it from my report.
Sucker.
Monday, September 19, 2011
Manipulating the System
Posted by: Blue
Two nights ago, I arrested a gentleman who was on charge for beating up his girlfriend. The girlfriend had returned to stay with him after his release from custody, along with her two young children.
The only way he was released from custody prior to the trial was to agree in front of a judge that he would live at a specific address (with his foster parents), not have any communication whatsoever with the victim, and if he did move, he was to notify the courts of his change of address prior to moving.
The 911 call came in as 2 young girls who were hiding at the neighbours house after their mother's boyfriend had smashed a door in the apartment.
The mother had left the girls in the boyfriend's care. He was gone when we arrived, with only his roommate left in the house.
The girls were frightened and didn't know where their mother was or how to find her. After searching for other family members that they could stay with to no avail, we dropped the 8 year old and 12 year old off at Child and Family Services.
Mom phoned 911 drunk and hysterical, suddenly worried about her children's safety (though she didn't seem concerned about them being in the care of the man who had beat her only a month before). I told her she could attend to the CFS location to speak with them about her children's well-being.
We swung back to the house and found that our suspect had returned. He was arrested for Breaching x 2.
He tried every trick in the book to avoid going back to jail. Yelling, screaming, begging, pleading, arguing, reasoning, faking illness, counter-accusing his "ex" girlfriend, threatening our jobs, telling us his mother had died and that that was why he was doing all these bad things.
He was locked-up to await a hearing scheduled for today. Maybe the Judge will buy his stories.
Last night, the queue was quiet. A low-priority domestic was sitting waiting in the line-up. I clicked on it on the laptop. The address jumped out at me. It was originating at the jailhouse.
Our accused was now calling his foster father and telling him how police had attended and not allowed him to get a jacket when he was arrested, dragging him out of his dwelling and leaving the door open for anyone to walk in and steal. Apparently his "ex" girlfriend had taken his cell phone and jacket.
My partner called the foster father and explained the real reason his son was locked-up and the fact that his son was in fact arrested outside his residence, his apartment was left in the care of his esteemed roommate who was told not to let the "ex" girlfriend back into the house, and that when I noticed our accused had no shoes on, I made an extra effort to retrieve the specific shoes that he requested from the front entrance of his home. There was no request for a jacket and no reason for one as it was easily room temperature outside.
There were a lot of questions, but in the end, the foster father sighed, and thanked us for our time.
I think I have a new pet project. I wonder what angle he will try to work tonight.
Two nights ago, I arrested a gentleman who was on charge for beating up his girlfriend. The girlfriend had returned to stay with him after his release from custody, along with her two young children.
The only way he was released from custody prior to the trial was to agree in front of a judge that he would live at a specific address (with his foster parents), not have any communication whatsoever with the victim, and if he did move, he was to notify the courts of his change of address prior to moving.
The 911 call came in as 2 young girls who were hiding at the neighbours house after their mother's boyfriend had smashed a door in the apartment.
The mother had left the girls in the boyfriend's care. He was gone when we arrived, with only his roommate left in the house.
The girls were frightened and didn't know where their mother was or how to find her. After searching for other family members that they could stay with to no avail, we dropped the 8 year old and 12 year old off at Child and Family Services.
Mom phoned 911 drunk and hysterical, suddenly worried about her children's safety (though she didn't seem concerned about them being in the care of the man who had beat her only a month before). I told her she could attend to the CFS location to speak with them about her children's well-being.
We swung back to the house and found that our suspect had returned. He was arrested for Breaching x 2.
He tried every trick in the book to avoid going back to jail. Yelling, screaming, begging, pleading, arguing, reasoning, faking illness, counter-accusing his "ex" girlfriend, threatening our jobs, telling us his mother had died and that that was why he was doing all these bad things.
He was locked-up to await a hearing scheduled for today. Maybe the Judge will buy his stories.
Last night, the queue was quiet. A low-priority domestic was sitting waiting in the line-up. I clicked on it on the laptop. The address jumped out at me. It was originating at the jailhouse.
Our accused was now calling his foster father and telling him how police had attended and not allowed him to get a jacket when he was arrested, dragging him out of his dwelling and leaving the door open for anyone to walk in and steal. Apparently his "ex" girlfriend had taken his cell phone and jacket.
My partner called the foster father and explained the real reason his son was locked-up and the fact that his son was in fact arrested outside his residence, his apartment was left in the care of his esteemed roommate who was told not to let the "ex" girlfriend back into the house, and that when I noticed our accused had no shoes on, I made an extra effort to retrieve the specific shoes that he requested from the front entrance of his home. There was no request for a jacket and no reason for one as it was easily room temperature outside.
There were a lot of questions, but in the end, the foster father sighed, and thanked us for our time.
I think I have a new pet project. I wonder what angle he will try to work tonight.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Second Call
Posted By: Blue
I try not to contradict my wife whenever possible, but I would like to point-out that on Sunday evening, I was actually attending my second call. My first call was here, and I'm sticking to it.
First call of my first actual shift was a sudden death (SD). Great way to start out. Guess it was gonna happen sooner or later.
Dude "expired" on the toilet (how cliche). He was apparently a bit of a loner. He called in sick Wednesday and Thursday. Family didn't find him until Sunday. The Medical Examiner Investigator thinks he may have actually called in sick for Thursday a day before, because he was pretty far gone.
We advised the family not to take a look at the body. He wasn't himself. My Field Training Officer (FTO) took down all the relevant info while I took everything else in (the sights, the smells... the tastes... He really was decomposed. It hung in the air.). I had been worried about my first dead body, but as it turned out, I felt confident and at ease. We returned to the station and my FTO wrote a lengthy report.
The remainder of the shift was relatively quiet. We ran a few plates, attended a family disturbance, and a noise complaint. I wrote a short report on the family disturbance, but the noise complaint was deuced (cleared with no report) with just a few comments on the computer.
And so ended my first shift. Now I'm on four days off. I start a six day stretch of day-shift again Friday. Looking forward to it!
I try not to contradict my wife whenever possible, but I would like to point-out that on Sunday evening, I was actually attending my second call. My first call was here, and I'm sticking to it.
First call of my first actual shift was a sudden death (SD). Great way to start out. Guess it was gonna happen sooner or later.
Dude "expired" on the toilet (how cliche). He was apparently a bit of a loner. He called in sick Wednesday and Thursday. Family didn't find him until Sunday. The Medical Examiner Investigator thinks he may have actually called in sick for Thursday a day before, because he was pretty far gone.
We advised the family not to take a look at the body. He wasn't himself. My Field Training Officer (FTO) took down all the relevant info while I took everything else in (the sights, the smells... the tastes... He really was decomposed. It hung in the air.). I had been worried about my first dead body, but as it turned out, I felt confident and at ease. We returned to the station and my FTO wrote a lengthy report.
The remainder of the shift was relatively quiet. We ran a few plates, attended a family disturbance, and a noise complaint. I wrote a short report on the family disturbance, but the noise complaint was deuced (cleared with no report) with just a few comments on the computer.
And so ended my first shift. Now I'm on four days off. I start a six day stretch of day-shift again Friday. Looking forward to it!
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