8 Ways to Fool a Cop: WD-40 and Hidey-Holes

Cops who desire to produce results—discover hidden contraband—when conducting searches of homes and other buildings absolutely must learn to think like bad guys. It’s a must if there’s any hope of locating well-concealed evidence.

Sure, some crooks lack imagination and leave the fruits of their crimes out in the open for all to see. Others leave evidence on tabletops, on beds, in the living room floor, etc. simply because they believe they’re untouchable.

However, some criminals prefer that police not discover their stash of secret weapons, drugs, stolen jewelry, and other incriminating evidence. Therefore, they hide the goods. And when doing so, well, they sometimes select some cleverly camouflaged spots, such as …

Hidey-Holes

  1. Hanging, taping, securing objects above the inside doorway/entrance to a closet. More times than I’d care to count, officers simply do not look there when searching small closet spaces that are not large enough to step inside. Instead, they tend to examine the obvious—straight ahead, above, below, and on shelving. They paw through hanging and folded clothing items, shoes, clothes hampers, the floor, etc. But above the doorframe…not so much.
  2. The bottoms of furniture, including inside the undersides of sofas and chairs. The cloth material attached there is easily removed simply by popping off a few staples to reveal a huge hiding spot among the framework. Crooks sometimes conceal drugs or guns or other items inside these cavernous spaces; therefore, officers should look for signs of tool marks that reveal tampering with staples, tacks, or other fasteners.
  3. Speakers (surround sound, stereo, etc.) are an excellent spot for hiding items. They’re basically wooden boxes with front or back covers that are often easily removed, exposing decent size hidey-holes.
  4. Fake aerosol cans, wall clocks, vegetable cans, beer cans, and so, so much more. Anyone can purchase a vast assortment of faux containers that look like a typical product found in a typical home. I once discovered a spray can of “WD-40” whose bottom screwed off to reveal a hollow space containing a hefty-size plastic bag filled with cocaine. (Click the link in this paragraph to see some of these items).
  5. Fake or hollowed-out books inserted among dozens of everyone’s favorite reading material. Yes, right there between the latest Reacher adventure and copies of Heather Graham’s and Tami Hoag’s books could very well be a stolen SIG Sauer hidden inside a scooped-out copy of Louise Penny’s A Better Man.
  6. Cutout sections of floors or wall paneling are excellent places to conceal goods. The space inside a standard wall is typically the size of the building material used (2x4s, for example). Wall studs are generally placed 16″ apart which offers a hiding space of 4″ deep by 16″ wide. The height of the space could be as tall as 4 feet, or so, since a short section of 2×4 is installed horizontally at the mid point of a wall (more are installed if the ceiling height is over 8 feet). These cross pieces provide support as well as something permanent to attach wallboard at the center point (from ceiling to floor) of the wall. During a search of a home (for drugs) members of our team discovered a removable portion of paneling that concealed a sawed-off shotgun hidden inside a wall between a family den and a kitchen. The illegal weapon fit nicely inside the spaces between 2×4 wall studs.
  7. Window air-conditioning units have removable front covers that reveal small but handy hiding spots. However, if the items hidden are drugs it’s quite easy for a canine to discover the illegal substances. This is especially so if the unit is running because the fan helps push the odors out into the room(s). To a trained narcotics dog that’s like switching on a neon sign that reads “DRUGS ARE HERE!”
  8. I’ve mentioned this one before, the space behind light switch and receptacle covers, but will do so again in case someone missed it. It’s a small spot but is one where tiny items such as flash drives, narcotics, and jewelry could be concealed. Also, click here to view a totally fake receptacle that’s actually a wall safe.

What’s in Your Wall?

Removing the plastic wall cover to reveal a thumb drive concealed inside the electrical box housing wall light switch.

 

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The Midland/Odessa Shooter and Crosses for Losses: Evil and Good

Each four-foot-tall white cross is a memorial made of high quality, furniture-grade wood. The individual crosses weigh somewhere in the neighborhood of 30 pounds and each is adorned with a large red heart along with a photograph of a victim of a mass shooting, natural disaster, or other tragedy.

The crosses feature a serial number, the date the death occurred, and the location of the fatal incident.

The maker of these unique monuments is carpenter Greg Zanis, also known as “Cross Man.” Zanis maintains a log of each cross and the name of its corresponding victim. He records the information in a series of notebooks, 75 journals at last count. Mr. Zanis also records the names and phone numbers of the victims’ families. He does so so he can remain in touch with family members of the victims.

So far Zanis has cobbled together well over 26,000 crosses and has personally delivered them to various locations across the country, from his hometown of Aurora, Illinois to Sandy Hook to Orlando to Parkland to Dayton to Las Vegas, as well as a 4,200 mile roundtrip trek to Paradise, California where he delivered his homemade crosses and Stars of David for the victims of the horrific wildfires that claimed the lives and property of so many of its residents.

He even made and delivered crosses to Martha’s Vineyard after JFK Jr. and his family members died in a plane crash. The first crosses he made for a mass shooting was for the victims in Columbine. Although Zanis is a devout Christian, he’s memorialized Buddhists and atheists and others. It all about the memory, not the religion.

Mr. Zanis often sleeps in his truck and he prefers to remain out of the spotlight, avoiding the media whenever possible.

Since he started making and delivering the crosses back in 1996 when his father-in-law was murdered, he’s carried out his mission mostly on his own dime. Operating as a nonprofit called Cross for Losses, Zanis doesn’t charge for his work, his time, or the fuel it takes to deliver the memorials. He feels it’s the least he can do for those who’ve lost so much.

Crosses in Odessa, Texas

Recently, Mr. Zanis journeyed to Odessa, Texas to deliver seven white crosses that were placed at the corner of 2nd Street and Sam Houston. Each cross represented one of the victims killed by 36-year-old Seth Aaron Ator during a mass shooting that began after he was pulled over by a trooper for a minor traffic infraction, failing to signal before making a turn.

A few hours before Astor began his killing spree, he’d been fired from his job as a trucker. He called both 911 and the FBI to complain about his bosses, and then headed out to shoot people.

During the traffic stop, Astor grabbed a rifle and shot at two troopers through the rear-view window of his vehicle and then he sped away from the scene, where he left one officer wounded by his gunfire. While fleeing, Astor continued his rampage, firing at motorists and pedestrians. Then he ditched his vehicle and hijacked a U.S. Postal Service truck.

In all, seven people ranging from ages 15 to 57 died from gunshot wounds. Twenty-two others were wounded.

Astor Barred From Possessing Firearms

Astor’s criminal record showed a couple of brushes with law enforcement back in 2001 and 2002 that resulted in guilty pleas and court ordered probation.

Seth Ator was barred from owning guns because courts had ruled that he was mentally unfit. This information was entered into his permanent record, information that is designed to appear during the FBI background check that’s conducted when someone begins the process of purchasing a firearm.

So no, Astor was not legally permitted to purchase a firearm of any type. It was also illegal for him to have a gun in his possession.

How and Where Did Astor Get His Hands on the Gun?

In January 2014, Astor attempted to purchase a firearm but failed to do so because the nationwide criminal-background-check system flagged the mental-health determination. The system worked and the purchase was denied. The check prevented the sale of a gun to a person who was not permitted to buy or own a firearm.

However, Astor easily found a way to get his hands on gun by simply purchasing the rifle from an individual who’d illegally manufactured the weapon. Authorities believe Astor bought the gun from a Lubbock, Texas man who’d purchased parts on the internet, then built the gun and sold it to Astor. It is illegal to do so—build and sell a firearm without a license.

Private gun sales do not require background checks. For example, if you sold your grandfather’s old deer rifle to Billy Buck Jenkins you have no obligation to conduct a background check. However, if you have knowledge that Billy Buck, for whatever reason, is not legally permitted to possess a firearm, then it would be illegal for you to sell him the rifle.

The person who sold Astor the AR-15 style rifle he used in his shooting frenzy was not required to conduct a background check unless he had prior knowledge that Astor was not allowed to possess a gun. Of course, as the ATF investigation will determine, if he man manufactured the rifle from parts he’d purchased online (untraceable homemade guns are called “ghost guns” or “80 percenters”) and then sold the gun to Astor, well, that’s a felony.

From ATF

“80% receiver,” “80% finished,” “80% complete,” “unfinished receiver” are all terms referring to an item that some may believe has not yet reached a stage of manufacture that meets the definition of firearm frame or receiver found in the Gun Control Act of 1968 (GCA). These are not statutory terms or terms ATF employs or endorses.” ~ ATF

Are “80%” or “unfinished” receivers illegal?

Receiver blanks that do not meet the definition of a “firearm” are not subject to regulation under the GCA. The ATF has long held that items such as receiver blanks, “castings” or “machined bodies” in which the fire-control cavity area is completely solid and un-machined have not reached the “stage of manufacture” which would result in the classification of a firearm per the GCA.

See comparison examples:

ATF image

 

Making 80 percent receivers into working firearms is legal as long as the person making the guns is not a person who’s prohibited from possessing it and that the gun is strictly for personal use. They may not legally sell these homemade 80% firearms without first obtaining a federal license to sell firearms.

The end of Astor’s shooting spree ended when he was shot and killed by police outside a cinema in Odessa.

His death was not marked by one of Zanis’s wooden crosses.

 

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You’ve Been Found Guilty: Now What Happens?

You have been found guilty

So, you’ve been tried and convicted for a crime and now you’re ready to do your time. Well, it’s not like you had a say in the matter, but the day has arrived, nonetheless. And that day arrived a lot sooner than you’d preferred. Time simply would not slow down, no matter how hard or how often you prayed that it would.

You knew the evidence was stacked heavily against you, but you were still a bit shocked when the jury found you guilty. Your mind was still racing when sheriff’s deputies (that’s who takes you into custody after court) handcuffed you and led you to a section of the courthouse you’d never seen. Who knew there were jail cells back there?

Now you’re sitting in a not-so-clean holding cell with a dozen or so other people of various criminal backgrounds, waiting for someone to transport you to the county jail. Soon, you hear voices and the sound of chains rattling. Deputies call you out one at a time and begin shackling you—handcuffs attached to a chain around your waist, and leg irons that dig into the tender flesh at your ankles. You’re surprised at how quickly the soreness set in.

The transportation officers pack each of you into a very full van and then padlock the door from the outside. The benches in the back of the transport vehicle are crammed with men of all sizes and shapes. All skin colors and a variety of languages. Some were there because they’d been caught with illegal narcotics, while others were guilty of rape or murder, or both. The air is thick, and stale—gas fumes, stinky feet and flesh that hasn’t seen soap or water in many days. Not a good time for your claustrophobia to act up. Your gag reflexes are switched on and you fight to held back their attempts to expel stomach contents.

The fat man wedged in beside you, the guy who smells like a high school locker room times ten, had just been found guilty of using a machete to hack his mother to death. You couldn’t help but notice the foamy white stuff gathered at the corners of his mouth, and the crusty nuggets piled up over his tear ducts and lower eyelids. A blue scorpion tattoo on his neck wiggled a little with each beat of the now convicted killer’s heart. You soon find yourself passing the time by watching and counting the number of times his carotid arteries pushed against the inked arachnid, like counting ceiling tiles in a doctor’s office while waiting to say “ah” and hoping for a prescription that’ll calm your shattered nerves.

The driver made a sharp right-hand turn, slamming the wild-eyed, unshaven rapist against your shoulder and bare left arm. His slimy sweat transferred to your skin, feeling as if it  burned your exposed flesh. But the chains prevented you from wiping away the cause of the fire. You’ve never felt more filthy in your entire life.

You arrive at the jail where you and the others are herded into a large room, much like livestock you’ve seen at county fairs. Then you’re told to remove all your clothing. A long line of naked men standing before both male and female officers. The stench of body odor is overwhelming. The embarrassment is worse.

“Hold up your arms. Spread your fingers. Turn around. Bend over. Spread your buttocks. Squat. Cough. Next.”

A female deputy, a woman who’d somehow managed to squeeze a rather “wide load” set of buttocks into a pair of size-too-small khaki pants, issues you a set of jail clothing—an orange jump suit big enough for two inmates, a dingy gray t-shirt that could’ve been white once upon a time, a pair of threadbare yellowish-gray boxers, and a pair of white socks that wouldn’t stay up no matter how many times you tugged. At the moment, though, while exposed for all the world to see, you gladly put on your brand new, many-times-used outfit.

Deputies yell for your group to hurry. The few who weren’t completely dressed awkwardly attempted to finish the task as they stumbled along trying to keep up.

Everyone is marched down a concrete corridor to another large room where you’ll learn the rules and regulations of the jail. It’s orientation time, and you’d better pay attention. The rules you’re about to hear are important. They’re for your safety. By the way, if you don’t follow the rules you’ll find yourself staying behind bars a little longer than you’d expected.

Now, please sit quietly and watch your orientation video, courtesy of the Chatham County Georgia Sheriff’s Department.

Welcome to jail.

 

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Shooting Fish in a Barrel: Repeat Offenders

Cops will quickly tell you that they often arrest the same crooks over and over again. They see the same faces in the booking areas and they find their fingerprints and footprints and MO at crime scene after crime scene. They cannot seem to help themselves. If there’s a TV or car to stolen they’ll take it. If someone “needs robbing,” well, they’re more than happy to oblige. And, they leave the same evidence and clues behind, nearly every single time.

This déjà vu all over again activity is so routine that oftentimes cops are able to take a quick look at a scene and immediately know the name and home address of the suspect. Repeat offenders are so familiar to police that officers commonly know the crooks’ family members and are on a first-name basis with them. They’ve investigated them so doggone many times over the years that they even know their preachers, their teachers, their friends, their hangouts, their barbers, their favorite beer, and even the names of their pets.

The Habitual Housebreaker

For example, once, while training a new detective I was dispatched to  break-in at a local business. We arrived at the location and went inside to speak with the manager who offered details about the crime—point of entry, burglar located money hidden in a secret location. No security cameras. The back door had been kicked open and smack dab in its middle, near the doorknob was a large, very clear and distinct footprint. A tennis shoe of a certain brand.

While speaking with the store manager my new partner had gone back to the car to retrieve his handy-dandy Sirchie fingerprint kit and subsequently began to dust various surfaces, hoping to lift a case-breaking bit of evidence. When I’d heard all I needed to hear from the manager I told the new guy to stop what he was doing and pack up his powders, brushes, lifers, and tapes. I was ready to go. He wrinkled his brow and gave me a look that indicated he thought I’d lost my mind.

Once we were back in the car he expressed his lack of confidence in my method. “Why,” he asked, ” did you do that? I hadn’t finished processing the scene. The suspect probably left fingerprints and other evidence.” I told him to be patient and to trust my experience and instinct.

I pulled out of the parking lot and drove down the street for a couple of blocks when a familiar car passed us heading in the opposite direction. The driver cut his eyes toward me in a sideways glance. I made a U-turn, flipped on my blue lights, and sped up until I caught up to the car. He immediately pulled over (definitely not his first rodeo). My partner asked why I was stopping the car. As I opened my car door and slid from my seat, I told him to follow me.

I approached the driver’s window and asked the man to step outside the car. He, of course, asked why I’d stopped him. I, in turn, asked him to hold up his foot so I could see the bottom of his shoe, a tennis shoe, a shoe of the same brand as the one that made the print on the door at the burgled business. He did as I asked and lifted his leg, bent it at the knee to expose the bottom of his foot, and held it steady for me to inspect.

I took a glance at the shoe tread and then told the man I was arresting him for the break-in of the business. I handcuffed him and had him take a seat in my car where I advised him of his rights and then told him I knew he’d broken into the store. No doubt about it. I asked if he’d used the money to purchase crack cocaine. He said yes to both. My partner’s mouth hung open in disbelief. It had been less than one hour since we’d first received the radio message about the burglary.

Later, I explained to my partner that:

  • The shoe print was one I’d seen at previous house break-ins
  • The shoe had a distinct marking on its bottom; a chunk of the sole was missing
  • The crook obviously knew where the cash was hidden
  • The store manager said a friend was there the previous day when she closed up for the night. It was late, the bank was closed, and he saw where she’d hidden the cash.
  • Her friend was known to me as someone I’d arrested numerous time for breaking and entering. A man who regularly wore those shoes.
  • Her friend was a known crack user.
  • The friend routinely drove by “his” crime scenes after police arrived. He seemed to enjoy watching the process.

It was an educated hunch on my part and it paid off when I saw the crook pass by. His sideways glance in my direction was a red flag. I also knew the guy would confess to the crime right away. A quick confession was part of his routine. In addition, him being out so early in the morning was another indication that something out of the norm. This was a man who slept during the day and stole and broke into houses at night to fuel his addiction to crack. He was like a bat that returns to its cave at the first sign of daylight.

The Stats

During a 9-Year Follow-Up Period (2005-2014), the Bureau of Justice Statistics examined the recidivism patterns of former prisoners. The Bureau collected information regarding a sample of former inmates from 30 states following their release from prison in 2005.

Highlights:

  • The 401,288 state prisoners released in 2005 had 1,994,000 arrests during the 9-year period, an average of 5 arrests per released prisoner. Sixty percent of these arrests occurred during years 4 through 9.
  • An estimated 68% of released prisoners were arrested within 3 years, 79% within 6 years, and 83% within 9 years.
  • Eighty-two percent of prisoners arrested during the 9-year period were arrested within the first 3 years.
  • Almost half (47%) of prisoners who did not have an arrest within 3 years of release were arrested during years 4 through 9.
  • Forty-four percent of released prisoners were arrested during the first year following release, while 24% were arrested during year-9.

*Resource – Bureau of Justice Statistics (from their website)

The Repetitive Maniacal Malefactor

During my time working as a sheriff’s deputy, we often arrested the one particular man whose crimes typically involved some form of violence—beating his wife and kids, fighting, etc.—and the violence seemed to escalate with each incident. He was a heavy drinker and, in spite of his extremely low income status, he routinely abused meth and cocaine. His family often went without basic needs but he was rarely without drugs or alcohol.

Each time we arrested the man he fought like a cornered wild animal. He was powerful when he was sober, but when his fuel of the day was a combo of methamphetamine and Jack Daniels, well, he was a real “beast.”

One night we received a call from a frantic child who said her mom and brothers and sisters were being held hostage by her dad. She went on the say the he had a gun and was firing it into the walls and ceiling and had even shoved the barrel into her mom’s mouth and then threatened to pull the trigger.

Log story short, when we arrived he—the “beast”—came outside holding a shotgun. I was able to approach from the side, out of his line of sight, and tackle him and take away the weapon. Other deputies then joined me for the wild ride that followed, the attempt to handcuff the man without him landing a punch with one of those ham-sized fists we’d all learned to avoid over the years.

So we arrested the guy, booked him, and then when he showed up at court, his wife testified that it was all a misunderstanding and that she loved her husband and would please, please, please appreciate it if the judge would let him come home. The judge dismissed the case.

A similar incident occurred a few months later and like this one the judge tossed the case and let the man go free.

A few months later the same guy went on a four-day binge of coke and booze when he picked up a young woman at a bar (his wife and kids were at home wondering where their next meal could be found). He convinced the woman to go for ride so they could be alone. Common sense aside, the woman agreed. As the pair drove out of the city and onto a dark country road, the man attempted to place a hand beneath the woman’s short shirt. She rejected the advance and he immediately slugged her.

She fought back but was no match for the powerful man. He continued to punch her until he reached past her and opened the passenger door. He pushed the woman out of the vehicle and she landed on the pavement. The estimated speed of the truck at the time was approximately 50 mph. The woman survived but was badly battered. So bad, actually, that she was never the same—appearance and mentally—ever again.

The man was later arrested and when he went to court the judge found him guilty and sentenced him six months in jail. He was to serve his sentence on weekends so he could work during the week. No substance abuse treatment. No anger management. No mandatory counseling. Nothing.

And like clockwork, for six months, his wife and kids visited him at the jail each and every Saturday and Sunday.

During the booking process, as I fingerprinted this guy, he turned and spit directly onto the side of my face. Let’s just say that he and I came to an instant understanding. Justice served.

So no, not every case involves a ton of legwork, detailed CSI investigations, long interrogation sessions, DNA, etc. Sometimes it’s simply a matter of who you know and what they do … over and over again.

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Selling Alcohol for Profit: A Car Crash Waiting to Happen?

Do alcohol sales directly contribute to the number of alcohol-related traffic fatalities? What about driving while under the influence of marijuana, be it medical or recreational use? Well, let’s take a very brief look into some numbers from the Commonwealth of Virginia, a state that’s responsible for all legal alcohol sales within its borders.

Alcohol-Related Fatalities in Virginia

In 2018, the Commonwealth of Virginia reported a 4% decrease in overall vehicle crashes. Fantastic, right? Well, not so fast. There was a 12% increase in alcohol-related fatalities, up from 248 in 2017 to 278. Virginia’s DMV stats show this is the highest number of fatalities involving alcohol since 2010.

These stats (above) are alarming to say the least, but solving the puzzle as to why there’s increase in alcohol-related vehicle deaths may not require the assistance of top mystery-solvers such as Sherlock Holmes or Jessica Fletcher. Instead, for facts that are plain as the nose on an elephant’s face, we can simply turn our attention to a chirpy little article written for the Capital News Service by Pedro Coronado.

It is within this article that the reasons for such a sharp increase in alcohol-related car crash deaths become apparent.

Coronado says, “Cheers! ABC Stores See Increase in Sales.”

In his celebratory piece, Coronado suggests that readers “raise a toast to the top-selling liquor store in Central Virginia in 2018, the ABC outlet at 10 N. Thompson St. in Richmond.”

The ABC store at 10 N. Thompson St. (near Virginia Commonwealth University’s campus) sold nearly $8 million in gross sales, and they had the highest profit margin in the state. Keep in mind that, in Virginia, the state operates all liquor stores, commonly known as ABC stores. ABC, of course, is the acronym for Alcoholic Beverage Control.

During the 2019 fiscal year, half of which includes at least part of the 12% increase in alcohol-related fatalities, Virginia ABC earned more than $1 billion, a revenue increase of about $72 million over sales in the previous year.

In 2019, the breakdown of income was about $197 million in store profits, $223 million in retail taxes, and $80 million in wine and beer taxes. As a result, ABC sent almost $500 million into the government’s general fund, money that’s then used to supplement education, health, transportation, public safety, etc. The rest was used for expenses such operating the individual stores, payroll, to the enforcement of ABC laws and regulations, etc.

Virginia ABC

Virginia ABC has four main sources of revenue.

  • state-imposed taxes on beer and wine sales
  • sales of distilled spirits at the agency’s stores
  • violation penalties
  • license fees.

Virginia ABC operates approximately 375 stores throughout the Commonwealth, employing over 4,000 people.

Established in 1934, Virginia ABC has earned its keep by contributing a whopping $10.3 billion to the Commonwealth’s General Fund. That, my friends, is a lot of alcohol sold and consumed.

ABC Bureau of Law Enforcement

Virginia’s ABC Special agents work directly with licensed businesses to address non-compliance issues relating to alcohol sales, and they’re tasked with reducing criminal activities involving alcohol.

ABC agents also initiate public safety investigations following incidents at licensed establishments, which often involves assisting and cooperating with local law enforcement agencies and officers. Agent duties often requires that they work in or assist with undercover operations

All Virginia ABC special agents are sworn and certified law enforcement officers, and they have statewide jurisdiction. ABC agents often work hand-in-and with local law enforcement officers in a variety of investigations. Although, when assisting local cops ABC agents typically act in a support capacity.

In addition, ABC agents may be found trekking through the countryside in search of liquor stills and illegal marijuana grow operations. I’ve personally worked with ABC agents while conducting numerous criminal investigations. I’ve also been involved in the searches for illegal stills. Yes, we found a few. We also stumbled across quite a few marijuana grow operations while seeking out illegal moonshine stills.

Marijuana-related Vehicle Fatalities

A study in the Journal of Law and Economics looked at traffic fatalities from 1990 to 2010, in 14 states and Washington D.C. Each of the states had previously enacted medical marijuana legalization .

The authors of the study found that, incredibly, traffic fatalities actually fell significantly by between 8% and 11% in the first year after the passage of medical marijuana laws. And they continued to fall for the next three years. The authors believe the explanation for the decrease is that medical marijuana may serve as a substitute for alcohol. (1)

Another study, this one lasting from 1985–2014, published results in the American Journal of Public Health. The study explored the same relationships—alcohol-related fatalities and crash fatalities relating to marijuana—but added the condition that dispensaries were in operation in each of the locations. Again, the study showed lower traffic fatality rates in those states with medical marijuana laws.

Actually, traffic fatalities decreased by 10.8% once medical marijuana became legal . However, the exceptions to the rule were two states (Rhode Island and Connecticut) who indicated an increase in fatalities. Still, overall the presence of operational marijuana dispensaries was associated with a decrease in accident fatalities. (3)

References

1 – Anderson, D. Mark et al. “Medical Marijuana Laws, Traffic Fatalities, and Alcohol Consumption.”The Journal of Law and Economics. Vol. 56 (2): 333-369. 2013. https://www.journals.uchicago.edu/doi/abs/10.1086/668812

2 -Santaella-Tenorio, Julian et al. “US Traffic Fatalities, 1985–2014, and Their Relationship to Medical Marijuana Laws.” American Journal of Public Health. Vol 107 (2): 336–342. February 2017. https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC5227945/

3 – The Journal of Law and Economics. Vol. 56 (2): 333-369. 2013. https://www.journals.uchicago.edu/doi/abs/10.1086/668812

 

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Slip Him a Mickey!

Poison can be defined as any substance that kills or injures.

How do we know which substances are poisonous? Easy answer. Any substance taken in a large enough dose can be toxic. However, for the purpose of writing mysteries, let’s talk about a couple of deadly poisons that could add a special something to a story. And one, well, let’s just leave it at it’s a bit bothersome trying to convince a healthy, grown man to insert a lethal dose of suppositories into a place where the sun rarely, if ever, shines. How’s that for a twisted tale? Pun intended.

First, though…

NICOTINE

Nicotine is a pale yellow to dark brown liquid.

An unsuspecting victim can succumb to this fishy smelling drug’s effects within a few short hours, but not before experiencing severe diarrhea, vomiting, difficulty breathing, irregular heartbeat, and twitching. The drug starts killing by depressing the brain and spinal cord. Then it paralyzes the skeletal muscles. Coma may precede death.

Symptoms of nicotine poisoning can begin as early as thirty minutes after exposure. A killer may introduce the poison through inhalation, skin absorption, eye contact, or ingestion.

METHODS OF DISSEMINATING NICOTINE

  • Nicotine can be released into indoor air as a fine powder or liquid spray (aerosol).
  • Nicotine can be used to contaminate water.
  • Nicotine can be used to contaminate food.
  • Nicotine can be released into outdoor air as a fine powder or liquid spray (aerosol).
  • If released into the air as fine powder or liquid spray (aerosol), nicotine could contaminate agricultural products.

CHLORAL HYDRATE

(Mickey Finn, Mickey, knockout drops)

This clear liquid is also available in powder, capsules, and suppositories (and you thought I was kidding in the first paragraph).

Chloral Hydrate is a central nervous system depressant and when taken orally, the onset of symptoms occur quickly. Some early symptoms of chloral hydrate poisoning/overdose are confusion, shallow respiration, coma, pulmonary edema (fluid in the lungs), and absent reflexes.

An initial symptom of nicotine poisoning— drowsiness—can develop as quickly as 30 to 45 minutes. Death occurs within a few hours.

Chloral hydrate was one of the drugs found in Anna Nicole Smith’s body at the time of her death. The prescription for the drug was not in her name. Instead, it had been prescribed to Howard K. Stern, Smith’s friend, attorney, and companion.

After her death, Marilyn Monroe’s blood/ liver samples tested positive for both pentobarbital and chloral hydrate. Test results showed lethal concentrations of both.

Slip ’em a Mickey!

Mickey Finn, an Irish bar owner and top pickpocket in Chicago, is known for using a special concoction of drugs to spike the drinks of customers. Finn’s cocktail rendered consumers unconscious, an act that allowed the barkeep and the “house girls” to steal the unfortunate person’s valuables. The practice became known as slipping someone a Mickey, or giving them a Mickey Finn.

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A Powerful Message About the Writers’ Police Academy: “My Mother Would Call It A Ministry; Something God-Given”

Mother would call it a ministry

Cops are a unique breed. They dress differently. They speak differently. They’re in a class all to themselves, and it’s a “Members Only” sort of group where those on the outside looking in often don’t understand what it is that officers do and why they do it.

Unfortunately, law enforcement is an operation that sometimes, to best protect us from harm, must do things out of public view. And that lack of understanding and wondering “what they’re up to” often leads to mistrust.

Some members of society reject any form of authority. Others distrust police officers because they’ve heard friends or family members say they don’t like cops. In some corners of cities, counties, and states, young children, even before they’re taught to read and write, are taught to hate the police. Then there are the bad apples of law enforcement who commit acts that go against the very meaning of their badge and oath.

Of course, compounding the trouble is the necessary secrecy involving some aspects of law enforcement, acts that can drive even larger wedges between the general population and the police. Therefore, over time, police officers metaphorically circled their protective wagons in order to survive in a world populated by people who simply don’t like them, for whatever reason(s). And, unfortunately, the circling of those wagons transformed the an already large wedge into a nearly impenetrable wall between citizens and the officers who’ve taken an oath to protect and serve them.

The wall is there. No doubt about it. But what many people don’t understand about the “wall” is that one of its cornerstones is fear—fear of abuse, fear of beatings, fear of racism, and even fear death. Yes, some people live their entire lives being deathly afraid of the police. Are those feelings justified? Sadly, in some cases, the answer is yes. But in most instances the answer is a definite and resounding NO. But, those bad apples in the barrel ruin things for everyone on both sides of the badge.

As a detective in charge of certain operations, I devoted much of my time attempting to tear down the invisible wall. I wanted people to know that police officers are human, and that we do good, and that we were there FOR them, not AGAINST them. And I still try to convey that message through this blog and through my writing. I also had the same goal in mind when starting the Writers’ Police Academy five years ago.

I knew the instructors at the WPA were the best in the business at what they do, but when I received the letter below, I also knew the event had achieved far more than helping writers “get it right.”

Finally, after all these years, there was a crack in the wall. And I want to say THANK YOU to everyone involved in the WPA for merely being you. It is because you’re who you are that someone took the time to let me know the WPA had a huge and emotional impact on their life. It’s almost overwhelming to think that the WPA actually impacted someone this way means a lot to me.

So here’s the letter (I’ve omitted names and locations to protect the writer’s identity, and, please, if you think you recognize the author of the letter, keep the name to yourself). The incidents mentioned in the letter occurred in New York City, but this could be said about any location in the country. And, by the way, I deeply appreciate the courage it took for this person, the author of the message, to attend the WPA and then to follow up with such a raw and emotional letter.

The Letter

Dear Mr. Lofland:

It’s been almost a year since I attended the Writer’s Police Academy in September of 201* and I am writing to share my experience during that weekend.

I learned about your Academy from a book on getting one’s book published (I don’t remember the title of the book) that I was skimming through in a Barnes and Noble store in early September of last year. Since I have no law enforcement background, I was looking for a way to verify that the information in the novel that I’ve been working on for some time is correct; that’s when I saw the piece on your Academy. I couldn’t believe it; especially since the Academy was being held in a few weeks. I quickly signed up and prepared to go along with my wife, my little daughter, and my mother-in-law.

The Writer’s Police Academy was a life-changing experience; but not in the way I imagined.

You see, I’ve never had a good relationship or opinion of the Police and I’ll explain why.

I was about 8 years old and it was a summer night in the mid 1970’s when suddenly I had a terrible cough just before going to bed. My mother is a praying woman and she taught us that when we’re sick God can heal us; so that night I asked her to pray for me. Quickly, the cough was gone and just before I dozed off into sleep I remember seeing the reflection of Police car lights on my bedroom wall.

The next day I awoke to find that my 16 year-old brother was missing. As my mother finished praying for me and I fell asleep, my mother saw the Police lights on the wall, too, and quickly ran to the window. Two policemen were surrounding my brother. What happened was that a car was stolen in my neighborhood and my brother was accused of being the person who stole the car.

My mother quickly ran downstairs and stood between my brother and the Police; the two men smelled of alcohol and their eyes were bloodshot. One Police officer pulled his weapon on my mother.

The owner of the car ran up to the officers and told them that his car was found by other officers and that my brother was innocent. One of the officers refused to let my brother go and wanted to take him in. My brother panicked and ran.

You see, we lived in the **** area of the **** and this was in the mid 70’s. Police abuse was rampant and crime and fires in the area were out of control. There was little trust in the Police from the community.

They shot at my brother as he ran down the park stairs and he was captured by other officers from three squad cars that suddenly appeared. They took him to the ******** and beat him to a pulp. My parents went to the precinct and were told he wasn’t there and had been released; it was a lie. Later on, the officers took him to an industrial area called *****, beat him some more and left him there in the middle of the night. My brother showed up at my house at 12 in the afternoon the next day.

Investigating officers reported that no such incident occurred and that one of the officers whom allegedly was present that night, whom my brother remembered his name and badge number, didn’t exist. An officer told my mother that she better get my brother out of the area or he would be killed by the police. She obliged.

Since then, my experiences with the Police haven’t been positive. There have been incidents in which I was treated well so I don’t want to over generalize but the bad has far outweighed the good. During the **** years, it was hell! I am of **** **** descent and although I am fair skinned, college educated and have worked all my life; I felt that I had a target on my back as I walked the streets or drove in the City. ….police brutality cases have only made me less trustful of the police. I have often wondered why I am even writing a novel related to the Police.

So, last year, when I went to your Academy, I was very uneasy. I was entering an actual Police Academy and was going to be surrounded by Police. I was nervous, apprehensive, and at times, felt like a hypocrite for even being there. But then the Academy started.

Friday morning began with a presentation on the Jaws of Life. The dedication and care for the public from the presenting officer just oozed out of him and impressed me. I then attended “Making a Lasting Impression” with Robert Skiff and David Pauly: I was blown away. The commitment from those two gentlemen to find the truth in order to protect the public blew me away. I slowly began to see that the Police weren’t necessarily out to get me but to protect me.

I then went to “Fingerprinting” and it was awesome. Next, I attended “Cold Cases and the Realities of Investigations” by David Pauly and Dr. Ramsland; this is where things really started to change. The openness of the presenters in sharing their knowledge was incredible. I could feel their passion and dedication to getting the truth and solving murders. More importantly, I could see and feel their humanity.

Friday evening after the Night Owl Presentation, I had to go to the Bar and gather myself. My head was spinning. Not only from the information I received in the classes but my emotions were everywhere. Then McMahan sat next to me in the bar and began to talk to me; my heart was racing and my palms were sweating. A law enforcement officer was sitting next to me and talking to me man-to-man. He is truly a gentleman. I found out he’s a dedicated dad and husband and I was humbled by his humility and integrity.

We were joined by David Pauly and Dr. Ramsland; they talked to me like I was a human being. You see, Mr. Lofland, in dealing with the Police in my past, I often felt less than human. David Pauly bought me a beer (please tell him I owe him one) and the four of us talked for a while. It was great. They are great people and their knowledge and dedication just blows me away.

Not long after that, Detective Conelli joined us and we had a brief talk; he was exhausted from his trip and needed rest. I couldn’t wait for his presentation on the following morning “Anatomy of an Undercover Cop”.

Saturday came and I was seated on the floor in Detective Conelli’s classroom (the room was full to capacity). He started out by showing a picture of “His Office” which was a building in the Grand Concourse in the Bronx. My heart stopped, I went cold, and I was almost brought to tears. I had been in many buildings like the one in the picture! He then showed us a picture of him while undercover. He had no weapons and was taking a huge risk in going into those buildings. It was during the Crack epidemic and I witnessed, firsthand, how it devastated neighborhoods.

Hearing Mr. Conelli talk transformed me. I began to see the other side of what it is to be a Police Officer. I began to see them as being on my side, for me, and not against me.

On Sunday, during the debriefing panel, I was struck by the Chief’s words and his assistant. I’m sorry but I don’t remember their names. They urged the writers present to write positively about the Police profession. They said it was very easy to portray cops in a negative light but we were witnesses that weekend to the goodness found among law enforcement professionals. I take that advice to heart.

On the plane on my way home I thought about my experience. I have a coworker whose brother is a **** Captain. I decided I would reach out to him in order to not only get information for my novel but most importantly, bury some painful experiences I had been carrying for many years. I realized that the experience with my brother had colored my view of Cops and I needed to change that.

Captain **** **** so happens to be the Captain of *** homicide. When we texted each other in order to set up a meeting, he told me he worked out of the ****! The same one in which my brother was abused. But the *** **** had since moved so I thought nothing of it. It turns out that the **** has indeed moved but the original building (in which my brother was abused) is used to house Captain **** and other administrative offices.

So, on a cold December night around 11pm I went to meet Captain ****. It was surreal walking into that building. I confessed my feelings about the Police to Captain **** and told him that if he felt uncomfortable with me that it was okay if he didn’t want to share and continue our meeting. He was very gracious and understanding. He confessed that the **** doesn’t have clean hands and didn’t have clean hands during those days in the 70’s in ***** but he shared his side of things.

I made peace with a lot of things that night, Mr. Lofland. It all started with your Academy and your gracious speakers. You have a very special thing going there. My mother would call it a ministry; something God-given.

My wish is that your Academy could be duplicated throughout the country and be used as a tool not only for writers but to bridge the gap between the Police and the communities in which they serve. I would like to see young people attend your Academies and receive healing just as I did.

I would also like to see you guys do a documentary on the Police. My vision is to have several Police recruits from several Police Academies from different parts of the country be followed from just before they enter the Police Academy to about five or more years into their careers. The documentary would show their everyday lives and their struggles and maturing process. I think the public would love it and gain a lot from such a program.

As for me, I don’t know if I will ever finish my novel or have it published. I am currently working on getting a Master’s of Social Work (MSW) so that I could work in the **** Schools helping kids in the inner city; kids much like me when I was younger. I can’t attend this year’s Academy because we can’t afford it and because of my studies.

However, I will forever be grateful to you and to Mr. McMahan, Mr. Skiff, Mr. Pauly, Det. Conelli, Dr. Ramsland, and all the others who were there last fall. I’m a better man for attending and am at peace now.

I am eternally grateful to you and to your partners. May you guys have the best Writers’ Police Academy yet and may God richly bless you and yours.

Thank you,

Name withheld

 

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Baby Hold On Because You’re Just What I Needed … in the 70’s: Dig it?

Undercover in the 70's

“Wash your hands thoroughly, man. You don’t want none of that pot leaking through your skin and messing with your head, you know.”

“Stop freakin’ out, Ralph. Mary Jane doesn’t do that,” said Detective Captain Kangaroo. ” You’re thinking of acid. I think you’ve been a narc far too long. You got jelly brain, or what?. You’re paranoid.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not taking any chances. You do what you want,” Ralph said. “Me, I’m not taking any trips unless that boss Trans Am out there takes me there.” He nodded toward the only window in the room.

Kangaroo leaned a shoulder against the wood-paneled wall in his office—his face just inches away from Farrah Fawcett’s toothy smile. The poster was his favorite wall decoration. “Ralph, the chief complained again about that loud hippie music blasting from your car when you drive into the parking lot. He’s threatening to take out the eight-track if you don’t dial Hendrix and Joplin back a notch.”

“Hey, can I help it if he doesn’t dig it?” Ralph said.

“Maybe he’d lighten up a bit if once in a while you’d play some Andy Gibb or Paul Anka. Hey, he likes Tom Jones. What about—”

“Tom Jones? Are you bugging’ out, or what?” Ralph walked over to the window and looked lovingly toward his undercover car, the sleek black vehicle that closely resembled the one Burt Reynolds drove in his movies. “Tom Jones. Unbelievable. Next thing I know you’ll be asking me to crank up a few Partridge Family tunes and ditch my Levi 501’s for a pair of Jordache’s, or a leisure suit. Well, I’m not doing it. I’ve got an image to protect. Catch my drift?”

“Look,” Kangaroo said, “I’m simply letting you know the chief has you on his radar. He thinks you’re burning out and I agree.”

Ralph, his anxiety clearly showing, twisted the obviously black mood ring round and round on his finger. When he’d first arrived the stone color had been deep blue. Stress and nervousness had edged out calm and cool.

“This whole scene is freakin’ me out,” Ralph said. “I bust my butt out there. It’s not a kid’s game of Rock “Em Sock “Em Robots, you know. Some of those dirt bags out there are as tough as G.I. Joe, the one with the Kung Fu grip. They’d as soon kill a Smokey as look at him. Yeah, I’m the Evil Knieivel of this department. I’m a little different. I stopped playing with Light Brights and Stretch Armstrong a long time ago. I’m not one of those folks you see on Little House on the Prairie. I’m a grown man and I know my job and how to do it, and you gotta do the things I do working as a narc in these times.”

“I know, Ralph, but that he’s the boss and—”

“Well, he needs to mind his own potatoes. The man is a doofus, a real jive turkey who watches Happy Days in his office, the crazy crib with all that red shag carpet, where the Osmonds spew 24-7 from the little transistor radio he keeps on his desk. But I have a job to do and if it means doing it while riding a Big Wheel and cooking my meals in an Easy Bake Oven, well, that’s what I’ll do. But I’m gonna keep on truckin’, man.”

“Like I said, Ralph, and here’s the real skinny. I think you may have been under a bit too long for your own good,” said the captain. “You’re even starting to sound and maybe even think like them. Why, you’re practically a Deadhead. So I’m pulling the plug. Turning off your black light. Switching you from 45 to 33 and a 1/3. Handing you a chill pill.”

Kangaroo, having lost his cool, continued the rant. “So you’re getting a haircut and a shave today. I want you sporting’ a flattop next time I see you. Dig? Because you’re going back in uniform starting Monday. So why don’t you split, go back to your pad, get cleaned up, put on some decent threads, and report back to me this afternoon with the keys to the Trans Am in hand. Oh, and when you drive in, how about cranking up the volume on a little Carole King. She’s far out, you know.”

~

Okay, the above goofiness and overwritten scenario was a bit of a stretch, but how many of you were able to follow the conversation? Do you write or enjoy reading tales set back in those days? If so, perhaps those stories, and your actual lifestyle, included one or more of these things of the past.

1. Pong

2. Fred Sanford

3. Platform shoes

4. ABBA

5. Colorful metal drinking cups

6. Portable hairdryers (with the hose and plastic cap)

7. World Book Encyclopedias (I read these for hours at a time)

8. Lava lamps

9. David Cassidy

10. Mork and Mindy

11.Tupperware parties

12. No seat belts

13. Romper Room

14. Tang

15. Pull tabs

16. Banana seats

17. Milk deliveries…to your door!

18. Balsa gliders

19. Sea Monkeys

20. Madge. “You’re soaking in it.”

21. Rosanne Rosannadanna

22. Kool-Aid

23. Test patterns

24. “Gee Your Hair Smells Terrific”

25. View Master

26. The Hustle

27. Village People’s “Y.M.C.A.”

28. Tiger Beat magazine

29. Tube socks

30. The movie Jaws

31. “Dark Side of the Moon” – Pink floyd

32. Mickey Mouse watches

33. Record players

34. “American Woman” – The Guess Who

35. Bell bottoms

36. Short-shorts

37. Bewitched

38. Donny and Marie

39. Carnation Instant Breakfast

40. Polaroid cameras

41. Station wagons with wood trim

42. T. Rex, “Bang a Gong [Get It On]”

43. Ant farms

44. Sears Catalogs, and the company’s famous Christmas Wish Book

45. Disco

46. Pet Rocks

47. Air Hockey

48. Pop rocks

49. Hamburger Helper

50. Watergate Salad

Finally, let’s not forget those revolving red lights used by detectives (“bubble gum machines”). They had a magnet attached to the bottom and most were powered by plugging them into the cigarette lighter socket.

Yes, I had and used one of those lights that stuck to a metal plate on the dashboard, and I remember how excited we all were when our department switched to blue lights. Still, you couldn’t see a thing with either those contraptions spinning and flashing inside the car. But we were so cool, man. Really groovy.

Okay, I gotta boogie now, so I’ll catch you on the flip side.

By the way, I’m stoked about a few new and very wicked and way-cool projects in the works. I’ll lay the sweet details on you guys very soon. Ten-four, good buddies?

Remembering …

 

Ric Ocasek, The Cars

Ocasek was not the lead singer on “Just What I Needed.” However; he wrote the song and did so while living in a basement commune. I selected this tune to feature because my band played it, a lot. In fact, it was one of our most popular and highly-requested songs. When audiences heard the first note of the intro—the E power chord—they packed dance floors. The song was absolutely a lot of fun to play for the simple reason that it seemed to put smiles on the faces of people everywhere.

Eddie Money

I met Eddie Money several years ago in California. He and I remained in touch by email for a while after and, as life goes, our messages eventually stopped. He was an extremely nice man who loved life, his family, his fans, and his music.

Edward Joseph Mahoney changed his name to Eddie Money after an attempt to follow in the footsteps of his grandfather, father, and brother, who each served as officers with with the NYPD. However, the job simply wasn’t for him and he left police work for a career in music. Obviously the decision was wise.

Money and I once discussed that I someday use him as inspiration for a character in a book. He thought it would be a real hoot to see it happen. Again, life and procrastination got in the way.

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A Drug Dealer, Undercover Ops, Entrapment, and the Future of the Writers’ Police Academy

Last week my wife Denene and I traveled to North Carolina to be with her mother during yet another surgery (you may recall that she and our daughter were each diagnosed, just weeks apart, with serious cancer). Her surgery went well and she’s now back at home.

On our way back to our own home we took a detour to visit with my brother and his wife for a few minutes. The side trip to their house took us deep in the countryside where it’s not unusual to see a black bear crossing the road, or a dozen or so deer grazing on my brother’s property.

To return to a major highway after leaving my brother’s place, we first had to trek along several narrow treelined backroads, where thick leafy canopies overhang, allowing only bits of sunlight to leak through between branches, speckling the asphalt with splashes and dots of yellow.  It was like I image it would be to travel through the twisting and turning lens of an old kaleidoscope.

Denene and I chatted along the drive with our conversation turning toward the possibility of hosting a 2020 Writers’ Police Academy. We brainstormed ideas as to how, if we decide to host a 12th event, to top earlier years and which new classes and topics we could offer.

We discussed past events and favorite sessions and activities. We also discussed that 2020 would be a year without Linda Lovely and Howard Lewis, our two key volunteers who’ve decided to move on after many years of hard work and loyal service to the WPA. Of course Denene and I are grateful to all they’ve done for us and the event over the past several years. The four of us have been together during fun times and extremely difficult hardships.

But, as it’s been said, “The show must go on.” For now, though, the head-scratcher of the day is whether or not to return to Sirchie, NWTC’s Public Safety Academy in Green Bay, or to simply call it quits after 11 wonderfully successful years. I’d love to see your preferences in the comments below.

Okay, back to the rest of the trip back home from N.C.

We twisted and wound throughout the network country roads, passing a couple of boarded-up country stores, the kind that once sold hunks of hoop cheese and slices of bologna from long tubes, hand-dipped ice cream cones, pickled eggs and pigs feet from large glass jars, live minnows and crickets, and blocks and bags of ice.

Cotton field in Virginia

Small clapboard-sided churches and fields of soybean and cotton and corn were part of the landscape, as were modest homes and barns and tin-roofed sheds cobbled together from plywood and 2x4s.

Then, we passed a house that stirred a long forgotten memory. It was a brick rancher with a gravel driveway. The entrance to the drive was flanked by two large wooden wagon wheels, one on either side. A vivid picture crossed my mind—a Virginia State Police car parked in that very driveway. Wow, how could I have forgotten about this trooper, a man who played a part in shaping me as a police officer.

Let’s Back up a Bit

I’ve worked undercover assignments in my day, most of which involved narcotics operations. My very first one took place, and it pains me to say just how long ago it was, back in the 70s. I know, I’m one of the “old guys.”

By the way, writers, that’s a term sometimes used by younger cops when referring to active-duty officers who tend to show a bit of gray hair and “donut induced belly droop” at the waistline. Old Guy is a moniker that also refers to retired cops.

I was reminded of my “old guy” status during a past WPA when I overheard instructor Rick McMahan using me as an example to emphasis a point during one of his presentations. He said something similar to, “Lee Lofland could probably tell you about how it went back then. He’s one of the old guys.”

When Denene and I passed that brick house I mentioned above, I immediately recalled sitting in a beat-up old car while two troopers placed “bugs” in the passenger side door panel and beneath the dashboard. I didn’t wear a wire in case the dealer opted to check for one, and he did. My handler, the trooper who lived in the brick house, was briefing me about my “target,” a major drug supplier who sold only large quantities of marijuana (“pot,” back in the day). Nothing smaller than five pounds, actually.

It was my job to gain the man’s confidence and work my way into his trusted circle. The goal was to become one of his dealers. I was brought in from another area to prevent the possibly of recognition. It was a tough assignment for a couple of reasons. One – No one had been able to gain the man’s trust. Two – He was a black man who generally didn’t associate with white people, and I’m obviously white. And he didn’t, as a rule, sell to white people. Didn’t trust them. Not at all. So my assignment was an uphill climb from day one.

But, at the time was hair was quite long and my daily attire was often grungy jeans, t-shirts, and Converse tennis shoes. I definitely looked the part and I walked the walk and talked the talk.

Me completing paperwork at the time of this operation.

Long story short, I did indeed manage to work my way inside the “team” and was soon given five pound packages of “pot” to sell. I was easily successful at unloading the drug because I simply turned it over to my handler, and the Commonwealth of Virginia, through the Va. State Police, kindly forked over the cash/buy money.

To my supplier, I was a fantastic “employee.” He assumed I was selling to white folks from Richmond to Norfolk and Virginia Beach, to Raleigh and everywhere in between. He even accompanied me on a couple of sales to undercover Va. State Police troopers. We arranged these sales to prove that I was not an undercover agent.

So, the day came to make the arrest. Since I was then working other assignments I was not part of the raid team. In fact, I didn’t see the man again until we came face to face in court during his trial, and if looks could kill I’d have been butchered, burned, and fed to wild hogs and hungry lions.

When I took the stand to testify about, in great detail, the operation that brought us to the point of the arrest and subsequent criminal proceedings, his high-priced, fancy-dressed defense attorney tried his best to discredit me. But, it didn’t work. Not even close. To pat myself on the back a bit, I remained calm, cool, and sharp.

Entrapment?

The attorney tried every trick in the book, including the old standby of entrapment. But this one failed miserably. You’ve probably heard someone somewhere say that undercover (UC) police officers absolutely must identify themselves as officers at some point during the operation, otherwise the, as the myth goes, the suspect’s constitutional rights are violated. It is incorrectly believed that if a UC does not identify themselves then they have entrapped the person who committed the crime in question.

Well, hogwash. This is without any doubt whatsoever, a myth of epic proportion. It’s fake news spewed by people who do not know the law.

Yet, this highly-educated and quite successful attorney, well, he sort of went there, asking me this question during his cross examination. “Did you tell my client what you were going to do with the marijuana he gave you? 

I sat in silence for a moment to allow the prosecutor to butt in, object, or whatever,  but he elected to not do or say anything.

Therefore, my response to this dumb question was the first thing that popped into my somewhat warped mind. “No I did not. And I didn’t because I don’t believe he’d have given me large quantities of marijuana to sell if he knew I was handing it over to Va. State Police Troopers for the purpose of building a solid case against him.”

Laughter then roared from the courtroom, and even the judge chuckled before asking the defense attorney if he had any further questions for me. He replied, “No, sir. I don’t believe so.” Then he turned and took a seat.

The drug dealer was found guilty and was handed a lengthy prison sentence.

Entrapment

“Government agents may not originate a criminal design, implant in an innocent person’s mind the disposition to commit a criminal act, and then induce commission of the crime so that the Government may prosecute.” ~ Jacobson v. United States, 503 U.S. 540(1992).

 

Again, I’d truly like to hear you thoughts regarding a potential 2020 Writers’ Police Academy—return to Sirchie, NWTC’s Public Safety Academy in Green Bay, or to simply call it quits.

So please do post your thoughts in the comments section below. Also, if we are to continue hosting this wonderful event we may need volunteers to help out, especially people with experience in planning large events with lots of moving parts. We also may need a few people to fill smaller roles during the event—help with raffle, check-in, reception, banquet, etc.

Working as a WPA volunteer involves lots of hard work and no pay (sounds tempting, I know). However, the experience is extremely rewarding in many ways. If you should consider becoming a WPA volunteer, please keep in mind that the Writers’ Police Academy is not a typical writers conference. There are no craft sessions, agent and/or editor panels, nor are there pitch sessions with agents and/or editors.

The WPA is a hands-on learning event whose focus is solely on teaching writers about law enforcement, forensics, and crime-solving. It’s an event that welcomes everyone, and it’s a place that’s free of politics. It’s fun. It’s exciting. And it truly is a Disneyland for writers of all genres, from beginning writers to top bestselling authors. Fans and readers, journalists, librarians, booksellers, etc. are also welcome to attend.

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Writers or Cops: Who’s Better Trained?

Police officers must attend training academies where they learn the basics of the job. In Virginia, for example, it is required that new officers receive a minimum of 480 hours of basic academy training that includes (to name only a few subjects):

  • Professionalism
  • Legal
  • Communication
  • Patrol
  • Investigations
  • Defensive tactics and use of force
  • Weapons, including firearms, baton, chemical, etc.
  • Driver training

The list sounds simple but, believe me, the training is grueling and physically and mentally challenging and demanding. It’s also quite stressful because if a rookie happens to flunk any portion of the academy they are immediately returned to their department where it’s likely their employment will be terminated.

Of course, academies and individual departments may add to the basic curriculum, and they often do (mine was longer), but they may not eliminate any portion of the training that’s mandated by the Department of Justice and/or the state.

In addition to the basic police academy, in order to “run radar,” officers are required to successfully complete a compulsory minimum training standards and requirements course. This course is specifically for law-enforcement officers who utilize radar or an electrical or microcomputer device to measure the speed of motor vehicles.

The Basic Speed Measurement Operator Training requirements include the following:

  1. Attend a DCJS approved speed measurement operator’s course
  2. Pass the speed measurement testing
  3. Complete Field Training

Virginia State Police Basic Training

Academy training for the Virginia State Police (VSP) is much more intense and lengthy than that of local academies.

VSP academy training includes 1,536 hours of instruction covering more than 100 sessions that range  from laws of arrest, search and seizure, defensive tactics, motor vehicle code, criminal law, and much more.

A troopers basic training is completed in four phases.

  • Phase I – The first 12 days are at the Academy at which time the students receive abbreviated training.
  • Phase II – Pre-Academy Field Training—up to four months—at which time the students ride with a FTO.
  • Phase III – Return to the academy for 26 weeks of Basic Training, completing both classroom and practical courses.
  • Phase IV – Following graduation from the academy, troopers complete an additional six to eight weeks of field training with a FTO.

What Happens After Local Officers Graduate From the Academy?

Once local police and sheriff’s deputies complete the minimum of twelve weeks of academy training (remember, some are longer), the law enforcement officers are then required to successfully complete a minimum of 100 hours of approved field training. This is on the job training, working in the field under the supervision of a certified field training officer (FTO). FTOs, by the way, must attend and successfully complete a training program that qualifies them to train officers in the field.

The mandatory minimum course for FTOs shall include a minimum of 32 hours of training and must include each of the following subject matter:

a. Field training program and the field training officer.

b. Field training program delivery and evaluation.

c. Training liability.

d. Characteristics of the adult learner.

e. Methods of instruction.

f. Fundamentals of communication.

g. Written test.

During the field training portion of a rookie’s beginning days on the street, their FTOs are evaluating their performance while at the same time protecting them and the public from harm. Working as an FTO is a tough job. I know, I’ve done it. You’re forever watching to make certain the rookies do not accidentally violate the rights of citizens, and you’re constantly on high alert, watching for the unexpected. This is because you’re responsible for everything that could happen. And, you’re watching for two people instead of one.

FTOs typically allow rookies to get their hands dirty by handling calls, getting the feel of driving the patrol car on city streets or county roads, conduct arrests, etc. They serve as a crutch, to prevent missteps. They’re leaders and they’re teachers. They are the final barrier to the officers going out on their own, a day most new officers salivate for in anticipation.

That first night alone in your very own patrol car is a highly desired moment. It the official sign that you’ve made it. You are finally a police officer. In the meantime, though, there are a lot of boxes that must be checked off by the FTO.

During the field training period, each rookie must demonstrate that they know the streets in their patrol areas. They must know local and state laws and ordinances. They must know the working of the court system and how to effectively interact with local prosecutors. And, well, below is a list of topics that rookies must know better than the backs of their hands before their FTO officially signs the paperwork releasing them from the training.

  • Department Policies, Procedures, and Operations (General Law Enforcement)
  • Local Government Structure and Local Ordinances
  • Court Systems, Personnel, Functions and Locations
  • Resources and Referrals
  • Records and Documentation
  • Administrative Handling of Mental Cases
  • Local Juvenile Procedures
  • Detention Facilities and Booking Procedures
  • Facilities and Territory Familiarization
  • Miscellaneous

Academy instructors aren’t simply any Joe or Sally off the street who may know a little something about police work because they’ve every episode of COPS, twice. Instead, academy instructors in Virginia are well-trained and must meet a minimum standard set by the state/DOJ.

Yes, academy instructors are required to attend specialized certification classes for the specific subjects they teach. And, instructors who train/teach and certify other instructors must become certified to teach those high level classes. They are then certified instructor-trainers.

I was a certified instructor-trainer for Defensive Tactics and CPR, and I was a certified instructor for Firearms, Officer Survival, CPR, and Basic and Advanced Life Support.

Advanced Classes for Officers, and Writers

Officer training never ends. Laws change and tactics and techniques evolve. Academies and agencies across the U.S. offer numerous specialized training opportunities. A great example of such educational opportunities are the courses offered at Sirchie, the location of the 2019 Writers’ Police Academy’s special event, MurderCon.

Each year, on a continuing basis, Sirchie offers advanced classes for law enforcement officers. If some of these sound familiar to you, well, they should, because they were made available to attendees of the 2019 Writers’ Police Academy. It was an extremely rare opportunity for writers to have the opportunity to go behind the scenes and train at such a prestigious facility and to learn from some of the top instructors in the world.

Classes presented at Sirchie, for law enforcement officers, are as follows:

  • Clandestine Grave Search & Recovery

    SIRCHIE is offering a 4 day “hands-on” training class on searching for and properly investigating and recovering remains from a clandestine grave site. The legal term corpus delicti me…

  • Phase 1 – Footwear Impression – Detection, Recovery, Identification Training

    Footwear impression evidence is the most overlooked evidence at crime scenes. Criminals will often wear gloves or wipe down objects that they touch at crime scenes but rarely do they remove their s…

  • Bloodstain Pattern Documentation Class

    Throughout the United States and certainly in smaller departments, the crime scene technician faces the complexities of homicide scenes without the proper support or training. Like all forensi…

  • Mastering the IAI Latent Print Exam Class

    Minimum requirements for the class: Each student must have at least 1 year of Latent print experience to be accepted in the class.  Background: Examiners who are preparing to take the L…

  • Digital Device Forensics

    With over 9 Billion wireless subscriptions worldwide as of 2016, every criminal investigation involves information that can be captured from a digital device, including phones and tablets. Understa…

  • Latent Palm Print Comparison Class

    Minimum Requirements for the class: Each student must have attended and completed a Basic Latent Fingerprint Comparison Course to be accepted in the Advanced Latent Palm Print Comparison Cou…

  • Evidence Collection and Processing Training

    Our Evidence Collection and Processing Training Program provides law enforcement professionals and crime scene investigators with hands on training using forensic tools that will help to execute th…

  • Drone Forensics

    This 5 day course is designed to take the investigator deep into the world of Drone Forensics. The use of Drones is growing rapidly and expanding to criminal enterprises and terrorist organizations…

  • Comprehensive Advanced Latent Print Comparison Course

    How proficient are your individual comparison skills as pertaining to latent print casework? Are erroneous exclusions a problem in your skill set? If you are a manager are erroneous exclusions a problem in your latent print work unit? This class was developed to help improve latent comparison competency and knowledge whether you are already a Certified Latent Print Examiner or if you are preparing to take the exam in the near future. A broad and exhaustive level of complex latent print exercises were carefully compiled to improve the level of expertise for examiners. You will not find another class like this one anywhere.

So Much Training and So Many Required Certifications, but …

Law enforcement officers in Virginia (I’m not certain about other states) shall satisfactorily complete the Compulsory Minimum Training Standards and Requirements within 12 months of the date of hire or appointment as a law-enforcement officer.

Take a moment to re-read the line above and then let it sink in that officers may work for up to one full year before they attend a basic police academy. That’s potentially 12 months of driving a patrol car and making arrests without a single second of formal training.

Sure, most departments would never dream of allowing an untrained officer work the streets without close and direct supervision. However, I’ve seen it done and I have personal knowledge of deputy sheriffs who patrolled an entire county, alone, for nearly 365 days prior to attending any formal police training. I know this to be so because I was one of those deputy sheriffs.

Believe me, it’s an odd feeling to carry a loaded gun while driving like a bat out of hell with lights and siren squalling at full yelp during the pursuit of a heavily armed suspect, all while not having clue what you should and shouldn’t do when or if you catch the guy.

When I think about it today I realize how foolish it was for my boss to allow us to work under those conditions.

Author Melinda Lee – WPA firearms training

Thanks to the Writers’ Police Academy, many writers have received far more training than I had during my first year on the job. Actually, many writers who’ve attended the WPA have received more advanced training than many of today’s law enforcement officers.

 

 

 

 

Here’s a recap of past Writers’ Police Academy events condensed in an ad for the 2018 WPA.

 

 

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