Chief of Police Carl Worley, 57
Ross Township Ohio Police Department
Chief Carl Worley suffered a fatal heart attack on January 26, 2010, while assisting in the pursuit of a robbery suspect in Butler County near Hamilton, Ohio. Chief Worley is survived by his wife, Kathy.
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Attention active-duty police officers. I need assistance with a bit of research. Sorry, I can’t divulge the subject matter in an open forum. Please contact me at lofland32@msn.com
Thanks,
Lee Lofland
There’s been much ado about safeties on pistols, and I’m often asked which have them and which don’t? Is it safe to carry a pistol with the safety off? And, we’ve already addressed the question, “Do police officers carry their pistols with a round in the chamber, or not?” In case you missed that post, the answer is, without question, YES. However, our Canadian friends tell us officers in their country do not.
The image above is of a Sig Sauer P229, a pistol favored by many police agencies. I, in fact, carried a Sig Sauer P228 when I was still an active police investigator. To me, there is no better weapon for police duty. Beretta is also another fine pistol. I carried a Beretta 92F when I worked as a patrol deputy in Virginia. Actually, the Beretta was the first pistol I’d carried. We made the switch from Ruger .357’s to the Italian pistols in the early 80’s, when a generous citizen feared for our safety and purchased pistols for the entire department, as a donation. That citizen was a farmer who knew that a sheriff’s office sometimes operates on a limited budget. He also knew that local gangs and street thugs were much more heavily armed than the police who were charged with protecting his life and property.
So, to answer the question regarding safeties on Sigs. No, the Sig Sauer does not have a safety. And, police officers who do carry pistols with safeties, such as the Beretta, the weapon is normally carried with the safety off. Carrying a pistol with the safety in the off position and a round in the chamber is no different than carrying a loaded revolver. Exactly the same.
Here’s a photo of a Sig Sauer complete with the bells and whistles labeled for easy identification.
Beretta Nomenclature
Officers must completely disassemble their pistols on a regular basis to perform thorough cleanings and oiling.
Cleaning disassembled Sig Sauer
Disassembled Beretta
Pistol grips are easily changed by removing a couple screws. Shooters must find a grip that fits the shape of their hands.
To get the job done with maximum efficiency and safety, carpenters and plumbers always use the right tool for the task at hand. Police officers should do the same. Here are a few to make the job just a bit easier.
The covert bullet camera is about the size of a tube of lipstick, which makes concealment quite easy. It’s wide angle lens and color capability work perfectly with pocket DVR’s.
This high resolution, color DVR is a great companion for the bullet cam pictured above. It features a time and date stamp as well as tamper proof video.
This pinhole camera kit comes equipped with lens covers designed to look like phillips screw heads, suit buttons, hex screws, and shirt and cuff buttons.
This sunglass camera is capable of connection to pocket DVR’s, which allows the covert operator to record what he/she sees as it happens. Great for that undercover narcotics officer in your life!
The climbing robot can scale vertical surfaces, and can even crawl across ceilings if placed there first. Perfect for searching hard to reach hazardous places, such as shipping containers and nuclear containment domes.
Once again, due to various emails and blog comments, I’m compelled to point out that my Castle reviews have been strictly about the police procedure used in the show. Nothing more, nothing less. I am not a TV or film critic.
Honestly, I’ve begun to dread Monday night/Tuesday mornings. I normally start my note-taking at the beginning of the show and finish around 11:30 or 12:00 – pausing, rewinding, etc. Then I’m up until 3 or 4 so you guys can have the post available when you sign onto your computers. I didn’t mind this…well, I didn’t in the past, but things have changed, recently.
I started these reviews at the requests of a handful of serious writers who wanted to know how much of the police procedure they see on Castle is correct. That’s right, I was asked to do this.
Well, I agreed to do the reviews, in my own goofy style, but that harmless fun seems to have offended a few people who insist upon bombarding me with negative messages. Those messages don’t concern me personally. Not at all. In fact, I find many of them to be humorous, childlike, or even idiotic. However, I simply don’t have the time, energy, or desire to field the negative emails and blog comments that arrive with each Castle blog posting. Believe me, I delete more nasty, offensive comments than you could ever imagine.
So, those of you who think the only opinion in the world should be yours, have won. This is the last season of Castle reviews on The Graveyard Shift. The season finale cannot arrive quickly enough to suit me. And yes, I mean reviews of the police procedure.
Listen…The Fat Lady is singing right now. I’m done.
Okay, on with the show…
The Third Man
The show started with the main ingredient, a dead body. This one had been killed with a massive doe of Ketamine, a sometimes popular recreational drug that causes hallucinations, seizures, and elevated blood pressure. Oh, and death. Fun stuff, huh?
The M.E., Lanie Parrish has made a complete turn around this season. I’ve gone from cringing when I see her, to anxiously awaiting her latest dead-guy joke. She’s also been pretty decent with her forensics……so far. I’m still cautiously optimistic about that. But, in this episode she did just fine. She was also funny. I love the one-liners, because that’s how it is in real life. In fact, lots of one-liners pass through the autopsy rooms. I know of one morgue that has a huge white board filled with popular quips spouted by the pathologists as they slice and dice. Those of you who attended the Writers’ Police Academy last year were privy to that very white board during our morgue tour.
One small thing about Lanie’s forensic information. She’d have had to specifically ask the tox lab to run the ketamine test. It’s not part of the normal tox screen. But, she may have done that since she did observe the needle mark. But I strongly doubt it.
Detectives were forced to start with the basics in this case – knocking on doors. They made the comment early on that there no fingerprints or other physical evidence. That’s good stuff. Most cases are solved by talking to people, not with DNA and fingerprints. So if you like writing dialog, then go for it, by all means.
Beckett did it again. She woman-handled the paper guy as he was picking up his paycheck. Actually, she was sort of close to a real cuffing technique used by officers. Not bad. I’ve seen worse by real officers – clothes-lining, tackling, hits on the head with a flashlight, tripping, choking, pepperspraying, wrestling, pulling clothing and hair, etc.
Beckett and Castle questioned a female witness at the police station. The witness spilled a tiny, personal dirty secret and immediately said, “You won’t tell my boss, will you?” This was a great detail, because people do this all the time. I can’t begin to tell you how many affairs and office thefts have surfaced during these brief interviews. And they’re all followed by, “You won’t tell my wife/boss, will you?”
When Beckett and crew entered a suspect’s apartment, her two partners went in with guns drawn to clear the place while Beckett and Castle casually began to snoop around. Nope. Everyone should have weapons out until the place is declared clear and safe.
I really, really like the transformation made by Beckett’s partners. They’ve turned into very realistic cops this season. They switch from suits to more casual wear when needed, and it doesn’t hurt to show a little bicep. Today’s cops really do work out, a lot. And they wear shirts that are two sizes too small in order to show those guns. Good stuff, Guys. Keep it up.
Beckett and Castle, during a phone conversation from the restaurant with her partners, were finishing each other’s sentences. Again, good stuff all the way around. Cops who work together for long periods of time are able to do this. Then again, so are romantically involved couples. They’re getting too close to this. I fear the end is near if they do…
When Beckett and entourage entered the pet store and the owner came out with his gun drawn, we heard lots of yelling and screaming from the officers. That scene was pretty darn realistic. That’s sort of what it sounds like when real cops are faced with a “man with a gun” situation. The adrenaline is already high when the entry is made, and it kicks into high gear when we see that weapon. Fantastic scene.
The brother-in-law/husband/killer was pretty typical. First the denial, then the look down, followed by the look of shame, and then the gut spilling. And I really liked it when Esposito pulled out the cuffs and said, “On your feet.” The expression on his face was great. He’s turned into one fine cop.
At the end, Beckett went to bat with the DA for the informant. I liked this. I did it quite often if the information provided was good enough.
Well, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but this show was really good. The police procedure aspect of it, that is. Remember, that’s all I’m reviewing. Even though, I thought the interaction between Beckett and Castle was priceless this week. Oh, and for the first time, I didn’t stay up until the wee hours of the morning to do this. And, I’ve added (review of the police procedure) in the title for the lone confused reader.
ABC photos
Ever wonder what it’s like to kill someone? Well, I don’t have that worry. Been there, done that. And I’ve lived with the dead guy’s soul scrabbling around inside my head ever since. Once you’ve pulled the trigger sending the bullets on their way, that’s it. You can’t call them back.
Several years ago I responded to a silent bank alarm—a 10-90 as it was called in our department. The day started with me sitting in my office reading the offense reports from the previous night. Nothing special—a few drunks, some minor drug activity, a couple of break-ins, and the usual domestic he said-she saids.
Then it happened. A young man—22 years old—walked into a bank, pointed a gun at the teller and took all the money he could carry in his white, wrinkled, plastic grocery bag. He scared the poor teller to tears. Victim number one.
The robber fled the scene and wrecked his car trying to escape. Five of us cornered the guy in a drainage ditch beside his car. He decided to shoot it out with us. Big mistake.
Three officers had taken cover on the the top of a highway exit ramp, just out of the robber’s line of sight. I was closest to the gunman—twenty-five yards away to his left. Another officer, a fresh-out-of-the-academy rookie, was near me, to my right. My only cover was a small maple tree. A very small maple tree. At the time it seemed like a toothpick with a few leaves. I felt that he could easily see me, like I had no cover at all.
The robber had crouched down near the rear bumper of his car. I watched him load his weapon, an old revolver. I yelled, begging him to drop the gun and come to us with his hands up. He ignored my commands and fired a shot toward my fellow officers on the hilltop.
The sound of his gunshot activated my brain’s slow-motion function. Time nearly stopped. It was surreal, like I actually had time to look around before reacting to the gunshot. I saw my partners yelling, their mouths opening and closing slowly. Lazy puffs of blue-black smoke drifted upward from their gun barrels. I saw a dog barking to my right—its head lifting with each yap, and droplets of spittle dotted the air around its face.
I turned back to the robber, took aim, and fired a single shot through the rear, side glass of the car and into the side of his head, the only part of the body I could see at the time. He fell over on his right side. I thought it was all over. Instead, the guy popped back up, smiling. I couldn’t believe it.
A shot to the head from my SIG Sauer and he acted as if it were no more than a slight irritation, if that. In fact, he stood and began firing again. I answered each of his rounds with three of my own, all three directly into his chest. He fell each time a shot hit him, but each time he stayed down only for a second.
Bullet hole in the rear glass from my shot. The large hole in the side of the car is from a slug fired from an officer’s shotgun.
He popped up once more to fire another round, and that’s when my fifth bullet hit him, again in the chest. He stayed down this time. I called to everyone on my portable radio, letting them know it was over. Then, suddenly, the robber jumped up and ran toward the officers on the hill. Unbelievable.
I ran after him. He stumbled. And I and a sheriff’s deputy tackled him. We rolled him over to handcuff him and saw that he still clutched his weapon in his right hand and was squeezing the trigger repeatedly. To this day, I can still hear the click, click, click of the hammer each time it fell.
The gun was empty. He was out of ammunition.
Paramedics with wounded bank robber.
The bank robber died a few moments later. I’d killed him.
I didn’t know it—not a clue—but that’s precisely the moment my life ended, too. Well, the life I’d always known. The one where I was always happy. Never a worry. Happy…yeah, right. It wouldn’t be long before I’d forget that word existed. Not long at all.
The second my last bullet entered the robber’s body, his soul was already trying to make its way into my head, wanting to worm and writhe inside my thoughts and emotions.
You see, in those days there was no such thing as counseling and de-briefing. No post-shooting administrative leave. No desk duty. I was left to fend for myself. Tough cops were supposed to handle whatever came their way. And I was a tough-as-nails cop, or so I thought.
My chief actually told me that a real cop would just suck it up. In fact, he sent me to the morgue to photograph the body and to remove my handcuffs from the dead man’s wrists. I was stunned. After one of the most gut-wrenching and traumatic events of my life, I wasn’t even given the rest of the day off.
I’ll never forget the moment I pushed open the door to the morgue and saw the robber’s body lying there. No sheet. Just flesh on cool stainless steel. My eyes were immediately drawn to the tiny bullet wound on the side of his face. A line of rusty-brown blood had dried there, looking like a parched Arizona creek bed. I walked slowly toward the corpse and reached for the dead man’s wrists to unlock the handcuffs.
Just before my fingers touched the metal I saw that more blood had collected and dried in many of the nooks and crannies of the steel restraints. I had to take a moment to collect myself before I was actually able to touch them. And I tried really hard to not touch his skin. Really hard. But I couldn’t avoid it. It was cold and firm, like old jello that had sat in the refrigerator far too long. I never used those handcuffs again.
Yes, a robber died that morning—a bad guy—and his soul left for wherever it is that troubled souls go. But a part of my emotions were tethered to him, and it was several years before they returned.
Two days after the shooting, my partner and I met with the medical examiner (this was the same medical examiner’s office where Patricia Cornwell based her Kay Scarpetta series). Even though I’d watched each of my bullets travel through the air until they hit the robber’s flesh (those who shoot a lot have this ability), it still hit like a ton of bricks when she told me that all five of the rounds in the man’s body were fired by me. The famous pathologist spared no details. She described the damage caused by each bullet, and she told me which rounds were the life-stopping rounds. I could, and did, recall firing each one. Still can, just like it was yesterday.
In the beginning, the dead guy visited me only during my sleep. Soon, though, he grew restless and figured if he couldn’t sleep then neither would I. He began stopping by to see me while I was at work, and eventually he came to me during my off time. He walked beside me while I mowed the grass, and accompanied me to the store. His voice pierced my ears like shrill sirens. His spirit raked its jagged nails across the back of my neck just to let me know it was in the backseat as I drove my unmarked police car.
There was no downward spiral. No, for me it wasn’t that slow and easy. This was a free-fall straight to hell. Fortunately, just before I hit bottom I sought help on my own.
It took a few years to climb out of that dark pit, but I made it back and I actually think I’m a stronger person because of the experience. If nothing else, I have a real-life horror story to share.
Sixty-eight rounds of ammunition were fired during this shootout. The robber was hit five times, all five rounds were fired by me. One police car was destroyed by gunfire. Luckily, no police officers were injured during the actual firefight. However, within a year after the shootout, one officer suffered a heart attack and died. He was 44. Two officers quit, and two retired (both are now dead). I, too, left law enforcement behind within a year after the shooting. Not one of us had received any de-briefing or counseling.
I’d say all total, there were six victims that day.
Police car destroyed by gunfire. That’s me with the cop/pornstar mustache. This photo was taken by a newspaper photographer just minutes after the robber had succumbed to his wounds.
Interesting to note – When I transitioned from a sheriff’s office to a city police agency, the new department issued Ruger 9mms. The one I received sounded and handled as if it would fly into a million pieces at any second. No one seemed to have any idea how to repair it and the department refused to issue another. So, my concerned, wonderful wife gifted the SIG P228 to me as a Christmas present. It was only a few months later when this shootout occurred. I believe the combination of the SIG and my training and fairly decent marksmanship were the factors that saved my life and the life of others. Thanks, Denene, and a big thanks to a fine weapon—SIG Sauer.
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Important Notice To Readers Of The Graveyard Shift!
I’ve just learned that the email address, lofland32@msn.com, the address associated with this site and my website, has not been working for quite a while, months probably. I apologize for the inconvenience. I’m now going back through tons of old messages that we’ve managed to retrieve. If you’ve sent me a message and I didn’t respond, please contact me again. You may want to use the address, lofland32@msn.com.
I always respond to each and every message, so if you haven’t heard from me in a couple of days, I didn’t receive your email. So please send another message.
Again, I apologize for letting many of you down. It was not intentional.
Captain Chad Reed, 33
Dixie County Florida Sheriffs Office
On January 14, 2010, Captain Chad Reed was shot and killed during a shootout with a suspect wanted in connection with the murder of two elderly women. Captain Reed is survived by his wife and two children.
Corporal Christopher Milito, 40
Delaware River Port Authority Police Department
Corporal Christopher Milito was investigating an accident on January 16, 2010, when he was struck and killed by a passing motorist. Corporal Milito is survived by numerous family members.
Trooper Jill Mattice, 31
New York State Police
Trooper Jill Mattice was killed on January 20, 2010, in a head on collision with a tractor trailer. Trooper Mattice is survived by her husband, brother, and parents.
* * *
Important Notice To Readers Of The Graveyard Shift!
I’ve just learned that the email address, lofland32@msn.com, the address associated with this site and my website, has not been working for quite a while, months probably. I apologize for the inconvenience. I’m now going back through tons of old messages that we’ve managed to retrieve. If you’ve sent me a message and I didn’t respond, please contact me again. You may want to use the address, lofland32@msn.com.
I always respond to each and every message, so if you haven’t heard from me in a couple of days, I didn’t receive your email. So please send another message.
Again, I apologize for letting many of you down. It was not intentional.
The question, “Do cops keep a round in the chamber,” has been making its “rounds” through the writing groups this week. Several people have written me saying they’ve heard both yes and no answers. And now they’ve asked me to confirm the real answer to the question. I’m not sure, but I may have started this discussion with my comments regarding Detective Kate Beckett from the Castle TV show. In case you haven’t seen the show, in the last episode, Beckett, for some reason did everything wrong, from tasting a fat pinch of heroin to chugging a shot of whiskey in the captains office.
I know, I know, I know. This is a TV show. It’s for entertainment. It’s fiction. You love it, and you especially love the sexual tension between Castle and Beckett. Honestly, I heard you the first 1,000 times you told me to stop picking on the love of your life, Nathan Fillion. The truth is, you rarely ever see me write anything about Fillion’s character. Why? Because he’s not playing the part of a cop, therefore he shouldn’t be expected to know police procedure. So he’s pretty much safe from my comments.
Beckett, well, she’s a different story. She should know better. Like this week when she pulled out her pistol and racked the slide to chamber a round before stepping into a dangerous situation. I assume she did this in case the need to shoot someone came up. Actually, I don’t know why she even carries a gun. Normally she just kicks butt and asks questions later. She’s one tough cop.
I like Beckett. I think Stana Katic does a fantastic job with the part, which is why I hate to beat a dead horse to a second death, but I wish the writers would up the police procedure believability factor just a notch. The Beckett character is extremely sharp and Katic portrays that intelligence quite well. So well, that to do dumb police stuff simply does not come across well at all.
Like reading a really well-written novel, it’s easy to step into the Castle world. I mean I’m there. I can hear the sounds of the police station. I smell the gun oil. And I feel the sudden tightening of the suspect’s muscles when they’re about to resist arrest. I’ve been there, so I know what it’s like. Therefore, when I switch on Castle on Monday nights I know there’s a chance I’m going back, even if it’s only for an hour. However, it’s becoming more and more of a chore to watch, but that’s not what today’s post is about.
Some of the people who wrote me after reading this week’s Castle blog, wrote to say I didn’t know what I was talking about, that it’s against the law to carry a live round in the chamber, even for a police officer. One person actually said I was an idiot and should have my blog license revoked. WHAT???
Well, that person got the idiot thing right, I suppose, but not the part about police officers not keeping a round chambered in their weapons.
The answer to the question, according to my years of personal experience, and to the answers I received from over twenty active law enforcement officers, is YES. Cops keep a round chambered at all times (with the safety off, if equipped). In fact, it’s almost second nature to do this when loading a weapon.
When you ask an officer how many rounds he/she carries in his/her weapon they’ll respond with an answer something like, “Fifteen plus one.” This means they have a full magazine containing fifteen rounds and one in the chamber. Some officers take the answer one step further and include, “Plus I’m carrying two full magazines on my belt. That’s fifteen rounds each, for a total of forty-six rounds, including what’s in my pistol. Yep, I’m carrying forty-six rounds, four short of an entire box of ammunition.”
When loading their weapons, officers first insert fifteen bullets into the magazine. Then they shove the full magazine into the pistol, pull back the slide and then release it, which loads a round into the chamber. Then they eject the magazine and replace the round that was loaded into the chamber. They now have a pistol that’s loaded to 15+1, or whatever number of rounds their particular weapon holds.
Most of the officers I spoke with stated their department policy mandates that all service weapons be loaded to the +1 capacity (a full magazine plus one in the chamber). Doing so decreases the amount of time an officer needs to react when involved in a deadly shooting situation. The time an officer spends placing a round in the chamber could be the amount of time it takes to save his/her life.
When under fire, the last thing you want to do is to use up precious time chambering a round.
* Two examples of police firearm policy in the U.S.
Madison Wisconsin Police Department Firearms Policy and Procedure:# Carry of Firearms
1. Semi-Auto Pistols
1. The Town of Madison Police Department authorizes only semi-automatic Pistols for daily carry in uniform and investigative assignments.
2. All uniformed officers shall carry their duty weapon while driving a department vehicle.
3. All semi-automatic pistol (semi-auto) magazines will be loaded to capacity during duty carry.
4. All officers must carry a minimum of two magazines loaded to capacity. One must be carried in the weapon and one must be carried on their person, available for immediate use.
5. Only Department authorized semi-auto pistols will be carried on-duty or off-duty by officers.
6. All semi-automatic pistols will be carried with the chamber loaded.
Boston Police Department requires a firearms inspection at role call. Policy mandates as part of that inspection that officers remove the magazine and then eject the round from the chamber. When reloading, officers are required to replace the magazine and then place a round in the chamber.
Again – U.S. officers carry with a round in the chamber and safety off.
My reasons for reading have diminished by one.
Robert B. Parker
1932-2010
My mother always told us to remain silent if we had nothing good to say about someone, and she, God rest her sweet soul, made a point of practicing what she preached. Therefore, I’m quite sure there were several of my and my brother’s trouble-making friends who pitied us, thinking our mother had been stricken by an awful disease of the vocal cords that had rendered her mute. Well, if I hadn’t promised a few good people that I’d write these weekly Castle reviews I’d certainly zip my lips closed for this episode. I’ve not got a single good word for it.
This show was absolutely horrible from its beginning, where spilled blood of Biblical proportions poured through several layers of building materials (not to mention the victim’s clothing) and then dripped onto the head of a house painter working in a lower-floor apartment. First it gushed, not seeped, through an area rug, then continued its journey through hardwood flooring sealed with a urethane-type finish, a plywood or OSB sub-floor, insulation (since this was an apartment building, insulation is normally used as soundproofing between floors), ceiling drywall, and finally through a coating of paint. What a set of wounds!
I’m baffled. I really don’t understand. Why? Because this episode was written by a real cop by the name of Will Beall. Beall is a wonderful writer, and he’s a veteran police officer. He works in L.A., and he grew up in Walnut Creek, near San Francisco, so it’s not like he’s lived on another planet, out of touch with civilization. The guy knows police work. He knows procedure. And he certainly knows that some things are realistic, and some are ridiculous. I’m still shaking my head over this one. Was he trying to be funny? If so, that too, failed miserably.
Okay, enough said. Let’s get this over with so I can go to bed. It’s already 1:17am. Sigh…
Roll up your pant cuffs and wade in with me, but be careful, it gets awfully deep.
– Even before the first commercial break my email box had begun to fill with remarks about the show. The first comments referred to a statement made by Esposito about the victim’s shotgun ammunition. He referred to it as .12 ga. hollow point. Well, folks, there is such a thing. This one was right. But from here on out…total BS.
12 Gauge Rio Royal Star Rifled Slug Hollow Point
12 Gauge Rio Rifled Slugs 250 round case
$149.99
Rio Royal Star Rifled Slug Hollow Point, 2 3/4″ 1 1/8 ounce lead slug, 1410 FPS. 250 round case comes in 5 round boxes.
– I’ve seen Beckett and crew routinely pull back the slides on their pistols prior to entering dangerous situations. I don’t know a single real-life police officer who does this. They all keep their weapons fully loaded, with a round in the chamber. Actually, policy normally dictates that officers keep their weapons fully loaded with a round in the chamber.
Besides, if a weapon was fully loaded when the officer pulled back the slide as Beckett did tonight, the action would eject the round from the chamber, leaving her one bullet shy of a full magazine…
– The M.E. said the positioning of the victim’s wounds indicated the killer was over six-feet tall. She didn’t have enough information to make that determination. How’d she know the killer hadn’t been standing on a ladder when he stabbed the victim? Or, perhaps the victim, instead of the killer, was standing on a ladder, or kneeling, when he was attacked?
– Beckett cut open a package of what appeared to be narcotics and tasted the stuff. Freakin’ ridiculous! Cops DO NOT do this. First of all, it’s illegal to consume illegal narcotics. Second, how’d she know she wasn’t tasting rat poison, anthrax, or some other toxic substance? There are simple field-testing kits available and most cops/detectives carry one in their vehicle, or in their evidence kit. The test is really simple and really quick. Remove the top from the provided pouch, place a pinch of the suspected drug inside, break open the tiny enclosed reagent-filled glass ampule, and shake. The mixture changes color as it reacts with a drug. Different colors indicate the presence of certain drugs. For example, blue indicates the presence of cocaine. Pink means the substance is something other than cocaine.
Besides, the purpose of the tongue test for drugs isn’t for the taste, it’s to see if the tongue or gums become numb. Cocaine is a anesthetic; therefore, a numbing of the tongue and gums means the substance “tasted” is probably the real thing.
Hey, how’d Beckett know what heroin tasted like, anyway? Sounds like a month or two in rehab is in her future?
– Here we go. Stupid just got stupider. The ridiculous became ridiculouser. A rent-a-doctor shows up and says he performed a tomographic reconstruction of the victim’s knife wounds. What’s tomography you ask? It’s that cool graphics stuff – 3-D type images of crime scene and object reconstruction. You’ve seen it on CSI and other fake forensics shows that are written to entertain us. I have to say here that those show are very entertaining. They’re fun, and sometimes the scenes are real nail-biters. But not all the science depicted on the shows is real. And none of the networks, writers, directors, producers, or actors make any claims to that effect. For the most part, it’s all make believe.
Anyway, the forensic pathologist produced a plastic knife and said it was made using tomography of the victim’s wounds. He said it was an exact replica of the murder weapon. He also said it was a perfect copy of the same knife used to kill Beckett’s mother, ten years earlier. WHAT???
First, there’s no way possible to fashion an object based on wounds in human flesh, such as the knife wounds inflicted on this week’s victim, and Beckett’s mother. Tissue and muscle does not retain the shape of the object that penetrated, punctured, slashed, or lacerated it. We’re not made of Silly Putty.
And, if it was possible to make this “knife,” the doctor would have had to perform the exact same kind of hocus-pocus imagery on Beckett’s mother’s body at the time of her death in order to make an accurate comparison.
The doctor then said this was the only knife in the world that could have made the wounds. Therefore, the killer was the one and the same for both homicides. Again, BS! The knife in question, a Daggert 1, a knife that’s no longer in production, was manufactured by SOG Specialty Knives and Equipment. It’s a really sleek, and really nice knife that sold for approximately $130. Police and military were the intended targets for sales.
There are a couple of problems with the good doctor’s theory. Like…
…two copies of the Daggert 1. And, stabbing someone multiple times with a knife such as the Daggert 1 is NOT an uncommon means of murder. This could go on forever, but you get the idea, the theory doesn’t hold water.
– Beckett’s upset, and the captain, her boss, offers her a drink of liquor from a flask he pulled from his desk drawer. She’s on duty with a gun and badge on her side, which makes this highly unethical, not to mention very dangerous (guns, bullets, and alcohol are not a good combination). She unscrews the top and takes a swig. Then she makes a face and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand.
What’s next, Beckett and a new guest star partying in the dressing room? Watch out Alyssa Milano!
– Beckett would not be permitted to investigate the death of her mother, especially in her current emotional state. It wouldn’t be good for the case, and it definitely would not be good for her mental health.
– Beckett (any cop) does not have the authority to let someone out of jail, or to make deals regarding sentencing (She promised to eliminate the possibility of a death sentence if the suspect provided the name of her mother’s killer).
– The scene where the bad guy grabbed Castle as a hostage was, like the rest of the show, stupid. There’s just no other word for it. Yep, stupid it is. Police officers would never let the guy out the door.
– After Beckett shot the bad guy/drug-dealing hit man she began CPR (ridiculous), attempting to save his life so he could lead her to her mother’s killer. ARRRGGGHHHH! Dumb, dumb, and dumb.
The civil liability alone was at it’s peak at this point in the show. I’m sure if the cameraman had panned to one side or the other we’d have seen Gloria Allred handing out business cards to the dead guy’s friends and family. After all, the suspect was killed because of Beckett’s personal involvement in the case.
The final scene of the show was the best of all. Unfortunately, I don’t remember what it was about, I just know it wasn’t offensive. And for this episode, that’s a good thing.
There were many, many things I could’ve included, but didn’t, due to lack of space in the cyber place where this stuff is stored. Nope, not enough room in the world to point out all the errors in this show.
Please forgive the typos and other stuff. I’m exhausted.
Time – 4:14am. Good night…zzzzzzzzzzzzz
*Castle images are ABC photos.
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I found this blog post floating around this morning. It’s from a blog called Doggonedmysteries.
Crossing Castle off my list of shows
That’s it I’m done. When Beckett tasted the drugs that they found in the locker, I was ready to throw a brick at the TV. No *%$#^$ way! The writers of the show seriously need to do some real research or talk to some honest to goodness live police officers.
Hell, Lee Lofland would love it if they came to him for advice or attended the Writers Police Academy. Check out his link on my blogroll-Graveyard Shift.
In the entire show, the only scene I enjoyed was the last one between Beckett and Castle. Geez, that’s bad. Most people who switched channels in disgust missed the best scene. I was busy at the computer-yes, I walked away from the show. Not far though since my computer is in the living room. DH was still watching it and making derisive comments through to the end.
The worst thing is that the premise of this show was good. The writing however, sucked big time. For me it means time to say bye bye to Castle. I have better things to do with my time…like write.
