Plainclothes Officer Survival Tips: How To Stay Alive Without Really Trying

Police officers are trained to protect lives and property. They’re skilled drivers, shooters, and fighters. They know how to arrest, how to testify in court, and how to collect evidence. They’re calm and cool when facing danger, and they’re protective of other officers.

But how about after transitioning from wearing a uniform to plainclothes? How do detectives, both real and fictional, prepare for and react to danger? After all, they don’t have the luxury of wearing all that fancy, shiny gear that’s worn by patrol officers.

In the fictional world, investigators have the luxury of their creators handing them whatever they need to survive. Real life detectives don’t have that advantage, therefore, they should follow a few simple unwritten guidelines. If you, as a writer, would like to add a bit of extra realism to your tall tales, then you should have your characters follow in the footsteps of living, breathing detectives. And, speaking of shoes …

1. Footwear

We’ve all heard the old saying, “Never bring a knife to a gun fight,” right? Well, the same is true for shoes. Detectives should never, ever wear fancy, expensive shoes to that same battle. Why not? Because shoes such as the $1,665 leather-soled, perforated Amedeo Testoni Derby shoes pictured below offer practically zero traction during a fight.

The same when running after a criminal suspect whose feet are clad in a pair of Solid Gold OVO x Air Jordans, which, by the way, are the world’s most expensive sneaker with a price tag of $2,000,000.

Remember, sometimes it’s necessary to retreat in a hurry, and you certainly want the hero of your story to make it to page 325, so practical footwear is a must. Detectives should always wear lace-up shoes, not loafers that could easily slip off the feet just when you need them the most. No leather soles, if possible. And female detectives should never, ever wear heels.

2. Handcuffs

TV investigators are often seen with handcuffs looping over their waistbands, with one cuff inside the rear of the pants and the other flopping around the outside. This is not an acceptable method for carrying handcuffs. They should always be secured in a holster of some type, such as the one pictured above. Carrying them improperly is an invitation for a bad guy to grab them and use the cuffs as a weapon against the officer.

The ratchet end of the cuff (above) makes for an excellent weapon. Imagine an offender swinging the cuff, catching an officers cheek and ripping the flesh away. It’s happened.

3. Pistols

Carrying a loaded firearm tucked into the rear waistband without a holster is a definite no. For starters, the weapon is not secure and could easily slip down inside the pants, which could be difficult to retrieve during an emergency. Imagine being on the receiving end of gunfire while pawing around inside your pants, desperately trying untangle your pistol from your Wednesday pair of tighty-whiteys. It’s not a pretty picture.

Besides, an unsecured weapon is easily taken by an offender during a scuffle. But even worse, it would be downright embarrassing to have to fish your gun out of your pants while standing in line at the bank. So wear a holster. There are several designs specifically for plainclothes and undercover officers. For example, Galls’ BLACKHAWK! Leather Inside Pants Holster.

4. Vests

I know this like beating a dead horse, but ALL officers, including detectives, should wear their ballistic vests. Wearing a suit and tie does not prevent an investigator from encountering dangerous people with guns. Suit jackets and shirts can be cut to allow a vest underneath (male and female). I know, they’re hot and uncomfortable, and I’m the perfect example of someone who’s been involved in a shootout and was not wearing a vest. I’m lucky the bad guy was a poor shot and I wasn’t. However, all it takes is one round to start the sound of Bob Dylan’s voice inside your head, singing …

“Mama, take this badge off of me
I can’t use it anymore
It’s gettin’ dark, too dark for me to see
I feel like I’m knockin’ on heaven’s door”

Oh, and do tuck the tail of the vest inside the pants, like a shirt tail. It’s there for a reason! Never roll it up under the vest. Doing so allows the vest to ride up, exposing vital organs.

5. Badges

It’s a good tactic for Plainclothes officers to use their non-gun hand to hold and display their badges near the shooting hand while their weapons are drawn. You want it visible because people have a tendency to focus on a gun instead of the ID that’s attached to a belt. If an officer’s badge is not clearly visible the suspect may not realize the man/woman who’s aiming a pistol at them is indeed a cop no matter how many times or how loud you shout, “POLEEECE!. This includes other officers who may think the good guy is one of the bad guys and then shoots one of their own before realizing their little boo boo. #displaythebadge

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6 “No Bull” Facts About Cops

Writers, you conduct an incredible amount of research about cops, forensics, and more, and your readers deeply appreciate your efforts. Therefore, to assist with your hard work, here are six tidbits to add to your gatherings of vital information.

1. There’s been a ton of media coverage devoted to anti-police protestors and activists, and in those vivid live reports we sometimes see people expressing their anger by assaulting innocent inanimate objects, such as garbage cans, dumpsters, streetlight poles, and even police vehicles.

This type of behavior is not new. Not at all. Modern day cop-car-turner-overers are not at all a new species. For example, way back in 1899, the Akron, Ohio police department introduced their first police car, an electric buggy equipped with lights, a stretcher, and a gong used as a warning device (sirens eventually and wisely replaced the gong-banging).

Well, soon after the fancy police car was put into use, a group of angry citizens who were demanding justice for the assault of a six-year-old girl by a man named Louis Peck. Police had arrested Peck the previous day but the mob wasn’t satisfied with just an arrest. They wanted to lynch him right then and there, without a trial (he confessed to the police). So the mob attacked the police department/city building with bricks and dynamite, and they set fire to the Akron fire station and burned it to the ground. They also attacked the firefighters and prevented them from putting out the fires. The group finally tossed the city’s only police car into a canal, which was no small feat considering the car weighed 2.5 tons.

2. Today, police officers and sheriff’s deputies typically drive department cars such as the Dodge Durango Pursuit or the powerful Dodge Charger with the 5.7L HEMI® V8 Engine, and even Ford’s Defender Police Interceptor Utility. Back in the 1930’s, however, it was the Deuce Coupe that reigned supreme with police agencies. Of course, the car was so popular and powerful that the bad guys drove them as well.

Speaking of the Deuce Coupe, let’s take moment to brighten what is a cloudy and cool day here in Delaware.

3. In the days before GPS and 911 calling, police officers and dispatchers relied on a caller’s directions to their locations. It was not pretty. For example:

Dispatcher – “Police department.”

Caller – “My daddy’s stuck in a tree ’cause our bull chased him up there.” Please hurry!”

Dispatcher – “What’s your address?”

Caller – “Don’t got one. We get our mail at Billy Buck’s General Store.”

Dispatcher. “What is the location of your house?”

Caller – “Well, you go down Corn Meal Road till you pass the spot where the old mill burnt down, and then you turn to your right at the oak tree that was split clean open by lightnin’ back in ’53—“

The sound of the caller spitting—probably tobacco “juice”—is heard at the other end of the line.

Caller continues. “You remember that gulley-washer of a storm, don’cha’? It was a doozy, weren’t it. Anyways, you go on till you pass eight telephone poles—count ’em good ’cause nine is too many—and turn into the first dirt path to your right. You can’t miss it. Cross the creek—it ain’t deep—and you’ll soon see daddy up in the tree. He’ll be easy to spot ’cause it’s the only tree with a bull standing under it. Hurry, ’cause I don’t know how much longer daddy can hang on. He turned 94 his last birthday and he says startin’ to lose the strength in his arms. Arthritis done ’bout got him”

4. People offer all sorts of wild excuses for doing the things they did. A few of my favorites are …

  • – It’s not my fault. I was drunk.
  • – I lost control of the car when I dropped a lit joint in my lap.
  • I didn’t mean to kill her. She stepped in front of my gun when I shot at her lover. I was trying to kill him.
  • I have no idea how that bag of drugs got into my underwear.
  • If you find my DNA inside that woman it’s because somebody planted it there. I’m not well-liked, you know.
  • You mean this isn’t my house? My mistake. I’ll be going now. Can I have my tools back?

5. You know about Miranda (you have the right to remain silent, etc.), right? Well, the same strategy can work to an investigator’s advantage. Like the suspected killer sitting across the desk from a detective who chose the “silent approach” to interrogation.

Detective – “You know why you’re here, right?”

Suspect – “You’ve got the wrong guy.”

Detective – I sat there staring at the guy, saying nothing for a full minute, then …

Suspect – “Well, maybe I was there when she fell and hit her head on that hammer. But I didn’t hit her.” 

A pause …

“You might find my fingerprints on the hammer because I borrowed it last weekend to fix my kitchen door.”

Another pause …

“Okay, she might’ve run into the hammer when I was swinging it to drive a nail.”

 A long pause, then …

” Dammit, yes. Yes, I killed the nagging b***h.”

6. Searching people for weapons and other items is not high on a cop’s list of things they enjoy, and suspects definitely do not make the task any easier. Sometimes it becomes downright embarrassing, such as time I arrested a guy on a warrant for assault. I’d chased him on foot for a block or so before catching and handcuffing him. Of course, by that time a crowd had gathered and were taunting me.

I was in the midst of a quick pat down, checking for weapons when, while running my hands up one of his legs, my hands made contact with … well, you know. I glanced up and saw him smiling a cheesy ear-to-ear grin. Then he said. “You go any higher or faster and I’m going to need a cigarette when you’re done.”

The crowd around us burst in laughter, and so did I. His comment definitely lightened the mood of the angry crowd, and I credit it for unintentionally preventing a difficult time getting him back to my car without trouble from the mob.

Still … yuck.

ATTENTION!! ATTENTION!! ATTENTION!!

This year at MurderCon, Dr. Denene Lofland, will present a new and extremely detailed and eye-opening session about Covid-19 and the spread of disease. *Session title and description coming soon.

Those of you who’ve attended Dr. Lofland’s classes on bioterrorism at Writers’ Police Academy events will remember her detailed sessions regarding the spread of diseases. In fact, her class just last year, ironically, was called “Biological and Chemical Weapons: Is the End of Humankind Near?”

Denene, an expert on bioterrorism and microbiology, has managed hospital laboratories, and for many years worked as a senior director at biotech companies specializing in new drug discovery, such as medications prescribed to treat cystic fibrosis and bacterial pneumonia. She and her team members produced successful results and Denene, along with other top company officials, traveled to the FDA to present those findings. As a result, those drugs are now on the market.

Calling on her vast expertise in microbiology, Denene then focused on bioterrorism. With a secret security clearance, she managed a team of scientists who worked in an undisclosed location, in a plain red-brick building that contained several laboratories. Hidden in plain sight, her work was for the U.S. military.

Sign up today to reserve your spot at MurderCon 2020! It’s a one of a kind experience!

2020 Guest of Honor – David Baldacci

https://writerspoliceacademy.com

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Perpetrator or Percolator: What’s In Your Dialog?

Perpetrator v. percolator

Police jargon, or slang, is truly a language of its own. It’s a collection of words that can and do vary greatly from one area of the country to another. Even neighboring counties and cities sometime have their own special slang terms that are unique.

If a writer’s goal is realism, I strongly urge the storyteller to do a little homework to avoid dialogue and terminology that doesn’t ring true, especially within a specific location or agency. A quick phone call to a police department’s public affairs office will normally provide you with the needed information.

I’ve had the opportunity to speak with police officers all across the country about this very topic. Athough, my focus was on the use of three specific terms/words that I often see used in works of fiction—Perp, Vic, and Juvie. I wanted to see if cops truly used those slang terms. I already knew the answer but, as always, it’s best to do our homework if we’re aiming for facts (hint).

Here’s what I learned.

1) Perp – Not many police officers use the shortened form of the word perpetrator. Instead, they use the more common terms, suspect, actor, or ***hole. Listen to police scanners and you’ll rarely, if ever, hear an officer say, “We apprehended the perp at 0100 hours.” Typically, it’s, “We apprehended the suspect at 0100 hours.”

Perp is generally a specific, regional term. I’ve heard it used more in the New York and Boston areas more than any other location. Still, it’s not used by all officers.

FYI – the term perpetrator is NOT to be confused with the closely-sounding “percolator.” Confusing the two could prove to be quite embarrassing.

Yes, I once saw the perpetrator/percolator faux pas in a manuscript. Imagine reading a book written by your favorite author and you see this on page 47 – “10-4, Captain, the percolator who robbed the hot dog stand was short and stocky, and a witness said he had a tattoo on his forehead that she believed spelled the words ‘Ken’ and ‘More.’  Could be his name—Ken More.”

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By the way, you’ll probably not hear the other, more colorful term “a**hole” used on the police radio. It and other profanity are not supposed to be spoken on the air, but when the adrenaline is high and the bullets are flying, well, you just might hear anything.

“The a**hole just fired two rounds at me! Send &*%@ing backup. NOW!!”

2) Vic – This is another one I’ve seen in books countless times. Again, not all cops use Vic, if any, when referring to the victim of a crime. Well, TV cops do, but not all real-life cops. Actually, some real-life cops refer to their police cars as a Vic, if they’re driving a Ford Crown Victoria.

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To hear a fictional officer misuse the term can be a bit humorous. And, when a reader is thinking one thing but reading another, like – “I really put the Vic to the test. Put my foot in ‘er and drove ‘er hard, first up the mountain and then back down. Wide open all the way. Didn’t let up for a minute. I finally backed off because she started to spit and sputter. Overall, it was a good ride and I’d like to try it again.”

It’s probably a great idea to provide a lead-in so readers will know your hero is referring to a car, not the unfortunate murder victim from chapter three. Ouch!

What word do cops use when referring to a victim? That’s an easy one—victim! Or … dead guy, DB (dead body), maggot snack, etc.

3) Juvie – This is a nickname given to a place of detention for juvenile offenders, or as a generic word for kids.

Again, not all members of law enforcement use this term.

Most simply say “juvenile” to describe those innocent little darlins’ who are always on their best behavior.

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Transporting Prisoners: And Who Let the Dogs Out?

Transporting Prisoners

Years ago, when I first went to work for a county sheriff’s office, police procedure and equipment were quite a bit different than they are today. Yes, that was back in the day when my co-workers were Flintstone and Rubble and other Bedrock friends.

Transporting Prisoners back in the dayIn those days, we didn’t have cages or partitions between the front and rear seats to separate us from the folks we’d arrested.

The lack of that piece of important equipment meant we had to transport unruly prisoners in the front passengers seat, which often made things a bit dicey. This was especially so when a suspect was a homicidal maniac who carried on vivid and animated conversations with the voices inside their twisted minds. It was slightly unnerving the night when a violence-prone prisoner said to his invisible friend, “Sure, I’ll do it. I’ll kill the cop.”

Once in a while we’d encounter a “little darlin'” who’d decide that he should have control of our sidearms, a desire that caused us to fight tooth and nail all with them the way to the jail, all while trying our best to keep our pistols inside our holsters instead of in the hands those homicidal maniacs who wanted to kill us.

If suspect was particularly combative we’d call on another deputy to ride in the back seat with them. This type of subject was often a real sweetheart who, by this time in the process, had urinated and/or thrown up on the seat, floor, windows, and even the ceiling of the car. Sometimes, if we were really lucky, they’d also “do their business” in their pants and then smear the feces on any and every available surface.

Ah, the good old days of wrestling with one hand, holding onto to your weapon with the other, all while rolling around in a puddle of warm, fresh body fluids and other “matter.”

Indeed, those were the days. Sigh …

Today, though, police cars are equipped with sturdy cages and partitions that prevent prisoners from assaulting officers during transport. Partitions also provide a slight sound barrier between the front and rear compartments. Not much, but any reduction of nonsensical noise level is nice.

I’m Super Important, Don’t You Know?!

Believe me, there’s nothing like a nice Saturday night drive while listening to a drunk screaming obscenities at the top of their sweet little lungs. And, did you know there are people who have the power to cause the immediate dismissal of any officer who dares to arrest them? Yes, they’re out there and they’re quick to let you know they possess this unique ability. They typically inform you of this remarkable power by screaming subtle niceties while their onion-dip-vomit-pickled-pig’s-feet-cheap-beer-smelling breath gently caresses your face and tickles your nostrils.

“You work for me, a**hole. I pay your salary.”

“I’ll have your job, a**hole. I know the sheriff.”

“The mayor’s my cousin’s brother’s sister’s mother on my daddy’s side of the family. You just wait until she hears about this. You’ll be in the unemployment line come Monday morning, you a**hole.”

Drunk obsenities Of course, the violent kicking of the doors, windows, and cage, and the screaming, spitting, and peeing everywhere like a spurting, spraying backyard lawn sprinkler, combined with the constant barrage of blaring radio traffic and wailing and yelping sirens, all join together to ensure a safe, smooth, and distraction free ride to the jail. This soothing, ambiance helps to settle an officer’s nerves after struggling for twenty minutes to handcuff the intoxicated violent wife-killing, puking, window-kicker.

Many police cars also feature hard plastic rear seats and drain plugs in the floor. These two features are worth their weight in gold. Now, officers can simply hose out the entire back seat area, if needed (and you now know why).

Here’s a few tips for transporting prisoners:

1) Always search the prisoner before placing them inside the patrol car. This includes a visual search of the inside of their mouth, a place where handcuff keys, drugs, etc. are easily hidden.

2) Always search the rear compartment of the patrol car before and after transporting a prisoner. The same is true before a shift begins and again when the shift ends. The reason is to locate any evidence/contraband so it can’t be blamed on someone who did not leave it there. They (arrestees) leave it behind so it won’t be discovered during booking (drugs, weapons, etc.), because it could lead to additional chargers for weapon and drug possession. Of course, officers should find all items when searching suspects subsequent to arrest, but things happen. They’re human and bad guys are slick. That’s part of what makes them bad.

3) Prisoners should be handcuffed with their hands to the rear, and seat-belted once inside the car. (Seat-belting is not a term for beating someone with a nylon strap).

4) Adjust the rear view mirror to an angle that allows visual monitoring of  the prisoner. I know of some officers who installed a red lens cover over the overhead interior light fixture, or a dim light bulb, to allow nighttime monitoring of a prisoner without affecting the ability to drive safely. And, of course, many present day patrol cars are equipped with interior cameras.

5) Always remain alert, especially at the end of the trip. Many prisoners make their move to escape when the officer opens the rear door.

6) In an emergency situation, one end of a thin strap (a hobble) can be attached to leg shackles and the other end closed in the car door. This reduces the prisoners movements. Some police vehicles are equipped with a metal eye hook in the floor. The hook is used to secure cuffs or leg irons to the vehicle. However, most department policies do not allow securing prisoners to a moving vehicle because they’d be unable to free themselves if the car crashed. Back “in the day,” though, rules were far more relaxed.

VIP Transports

Sometimes rear compartments of police vehicles are used for purposes other than transporting criminals, such as transporting dignitaries to various meetings and other high-profile functions.

Transporting prisoners

Special Officer Transportation

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Transporting prisoners

Special VIP

 

K-9 Transport

We love our VIPs.

 

Our favorite kind of backseat rider

Our favorite kind of backseat rider

Who Let the Dogs Out …

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Is Your Story “Four Rounds Short of a Full Brick?”

Like reading a really well-written novel, it’s easy to step into the world of TV cop shows where we see the inner workings inside the fictional police stations. We hear the chatter and jargon spoken among officers, the creaking of gun leather, and the jingle of keys and handcuff chains. If the actors a good enough at acting we sense 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 the television to watch  my personal favorite shows I know there’s a chance I’m going back to work, even if it’s only for an hour.

A few diehard police drama fans who have absolutely no background in law enforcement whatsoever wrote me to say that I don’t know what I’m talking about when it comes to certain areas of police procedure, and that I could learn a thing or two about it from the writers of their favorite shows. Yeah, I know. Duh …

One repeated complaint shows up when I mention an actor “racking” the slide on their pistol before entering a dangerous situation. The complaint – “Stupid blogger, the law/Constitution requires that police rack the slide of their weapons.”

For those of you who do not know, the racking of the slide serves two purposes (three if you count TV writers thinking it looks cool).

  • One – racking the slide delivers a round from the magazine to the chamber. Until a bullet is seated in the chamber a pistol will not fire. And why won’t it fire? Because there’s no bullet in the chamber. Duh!
  • Two – when a shooter racks the slide the action ejects the round that’s in the chamber, leaving the gun short one round. And, that live round is then rolling around on the pavement. Since we never see a round eject when TV cops rack a slide, then it’s safe to assume there was not a round in the chamber. More on this in a second.

That’s right, without a bullet ready to fire (in the chamber) the weapon is practically useless. Unless, of course, you want to use it to whack someone on the head. Or as an expensive doorstop, a fancy bookend, or unique paperweight. And this, a pistol with an empty chamber, is how many TV detectives carry their sidearms … not ready to fire/unable to fire when needed.

Actually, the chronic complainers/armchair cop experts tell me (sometimes in ALL CAPS) that I’m an idiot because everyone in their right mind knows it’s against the law, even for a police officer, to carry a live round in the chamber. One even took it a step further and went on to say that I should have my blogging license revoked. WHAT???

Well, cops DO (see, I can use all caps too) indeed keep a round chambered at all times (with the safety off, if the firearm is equipped with a safety). In fact, it’s almost second nature to police officers to do both before slipping their duty weapons into their holsters.

When you ask an officer how many rounds he/she carries in his/her weapon they’ll often 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 in each magazine, 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 brick.”

New Picture (3)

Brick = a full box of ammunition. The cardboard box containing the plastic insert and bullets is shaped like a small brick.

When loading their weapons, officers first insert fifteen bullets into the magazine (the number of rounds depends on the weapon carried). Next they shove/seat the full magazine into the pistol, pull back the slide and then release it. This action loads a round into the chamber. Then they eject the magazine, which now contains one less bullet (now 14) and replace the round that was loaded into the chamber. The pistol is then fully loaded to 15+1, or whatever number of rounds their particular weapon holds.

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Weapons loaded to the +1 capacity (a full magazine plus one in the chamber) 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, and that’s IF they’d remember to “rack the slide” when faced with a split-second need to use deadly force.

Forgetting to chamber a round, while under life-threatening stress, would be like going to a gunfight with an empty gun. Besides, when under fire, the last thing you want to do is to use up precious time chambering a round. Another important detail – racking the slide is noisy and the unmistakable sound could alert the bad guys that an officer is approaching.

So yes, officers always carry a fully loaded weapon, and that means with a round in the chamber. There’s no slide-racking in real life.

Examples of police firearm policy in the U.S.

Philadelphia Police Department

  • All standard service weapons or authorized alternate weapons, when being carried on or off duty, shall be loaded to full capacity with city-issued ammunition. For pistols, this means the magazines shall be loaded to full capacity, with one round in the chamber.

San Antonio Police Department

.06 GENERAL RULES FOR CARRYING FIREARMS: SWORN OFFICERS

A. Uniformed Officers: Officers wearing the regulation uniform or the officer’s unit-specific uniform shall conform to the following:

  1. The Department-issued S&W M&P40 is the only approved primary handgun for uniformed officers to carry:
    • The S&W M&P40 will be carried in an approved holster on the equipment belt.
    • The S&W M&P40 will be carried with a round in the chamber and the magazine fully loaded.
    • Two fully-loaded magazines will be carried in a magazine pouch on the equipment belt.

Frederick Maryland Police Department

.55 DUTY FIREARM ISSUANCE:

The standard issue duty firearm is the Glock model 17 9mm semiautomatic handgun. The Firearms Coordinator will issue duty firearms to sworn personnel. Duty firearms will be issued with three magazines and 46 rounds of authorized ammunition. The firearm will be carried with one round in the chamber, 15 rounds in a magazine in the firearm, and 15 rounds in each of the spare magazines.

Again – U.S. officers carry with a round in the chamber and safety off.

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Policing Through the Years: From Six-Shooters to the Coronavirus

The year is 1982 and I’m assigned to patrol duty in a town called Peaceful. We’re bordered by the towns Mean and Nasty. Peaceful, where I work, is the county seat.

My name is Officer Hartogold and I work the graveyard shift. I carry a gun and wear a badge. It’s my job to protect and serve.

Peaceful is generally a quiet place with very little crime. The streets are lined with green leafy trees and flowers of every color and scent imaginable. The walks are clean and straight and the air is fresh. People smile and say howdy, even to strangers who pass through on their way to here and there.

Our coffee is hot and soft drinks are ice cold. No one curses and no one argues. Kids are polite and respectful. Parents happily attend school functions and entire families enjoy meals together.

Schools are for learning and children love their teachers. The lake is full of sparkling water and fish “this big” are seen each morning leaping as high as three or four feet into the air to catch a bug or two for their breakfast. The skies are blue and grass is soft and velvety.

Everyone in the area works hard to earn a living. The local university produces top-notch graduates. Many of them move on to become doctors, lawyers, engineers, teachers, writers, and other such careers. Some finish high school and proudly attend the technical school where they learn to cook, build, design computer systems, and drive big rigs. The dropout rate in Peaceful is very low, and drunk driving charges are nonexistent.

Peaceful is a nice town.

Sure, Billy Buck “Bubba” Johnson occasionally goes off the deep end and tears up his kitchen or living room, and once in a while somebody catches his wife in bed with a neighbor and subsequently uses his trusty 12-gauge to generously aerate her lover’s nude body.

And once, the president of the First Savings and Loan Bank ran off with with one of the tellers, a big-haired woman who, at the time, was married to a local peanut farmer. They’d grabbed a few thousand dollars from the vault before hitting the road. They didn’t get far, though, before the Highway Patrol caught up with the adulterous couple in Happytown, near the state line. The couple gave back the stolen loot, begged forgiveness, and then disappeared again while out on bond.

For the most part, though, Peaceful PD officers answer barking dog and peeping Tom complaints. We write a few traffic tickets, and we keep the undesirables outside the city limits (those Mean and Nasty folks can be downright ornery, especially so on Saturday nights).

Pot smokers and growers—long-hairs we called ’em—were once a bit of a concern for us. Not only was marijuana illegal, our government, and Mexico, had been spraying the weed crops with Paraquat, a chemical linked to cancer and possibly to Parkinson disease. And they’d done so since the time when Nixon was in office.  Pot was a big, illegal business and President Reagan and his wife Nancy were leading the anti-pot crusade.

Next came George Bush, Sr. and Desert Storm, a war that sent a lot of police officers back into active military duty. Some never came home and we eventually filled their positions, sometimes with more former soldiers who managed to survive their deployments.

Occasionally we’d hire a recently discharged soldier whose mind was infiltrated and battered by ghosts and demons from the battlefield. Deep down we knew the odds were in favor of someday finding at least one of those guys sitting inside his patrol car with the barrel of his service weapon jammed tightly against the roof of his mouth.

The poor fellow’d have the hammer cocked and a trembling index finger hooked around the trigger. His face peppered with tiny pearls of sweat and his eyes leaking tears that dropped onto his Class A uniform shirt from a jawline so sharply chiseled that looked as if a stone mason had carved it from a slab of granite. Tough as rusty nails they were, until war turned their emotions and minds to mush.

Sometimes we were able to talk them down, and sometimes the situation ended with bagpipes, a riderless horse, and handing a folded flag to a sobbing, heart-broken spouse.

We kept a close eye on the long-hairs and the people they hung out with, making sure to snag them if we saw them driving while stoned or selling the stuff to little kids. Our narcs where forever finding  and destroying grow operations, but the dopers always popped back up in new locations. As always, drunk drivers added their own special dangers and problems, so we watched for them too.

Then, practically in a flash, crack cocaine entered the picture and things really went sour. That’s also the time when bad guys started carrying semi-automatic pistols instead of cheap pawn shop revolvers. We, however, still had six-shooters sitting in our holsters, which meant the crooks were far better outfitted than the police.

Therefore, to “keep up with the Joneses” we made the switch to the newfangled semi-autos. What a learning curve that was, to go from carrying 18 rounds (6 in the gun and 12 in speed loaders) to 16 in the pistol and an extra 30 in spare magazines worn on our gun belts. The training was a bit intimidating at first, but we got the hang of it. Still, a few of the old-timers opted to keep their old wheel guns in lieu of the semi-autos. Change is tough, especially when it comes swapping a tool you’ve counted on for so long to keep you safe.

With the influx of crack came a drastic increase of criminal activity. Property crimes increased enormously as abusers and addicts began to steal nearly everything that wasn’t nailed down so they could fund their intense, overwhelming cravings for the drug. Assaults were up. The number of robberies increased. Murders and other shootings became commonplace. Shots-fired calls became a regular thing. Stabbings increased. Rapes. Car thefts. Break-ins. They all topped the stat charts.

Small time drug dealers hung out on street corners and in front of “drug houses,” selling to “customers” as they drove up. Curbside service was the preferred method of transaction for the sellers because they only carried a small amount of crack on them that could easily be swallowed or dropped if they saw us coming. Or, they could simply run away before we had time to stop the car and get out. The main stash was inside one the nearby houses, but pinpointing which one required significant surveillance and manpower. Unfortunately, our manpower was usually tied up working on keeping the ever-growing crime rate at a manageable level.

We were simply outnumbered. Crack was ruining our beloved Peaceful.

Not long after crack took hold, criminals began to resist our attempts to arrest them. Prior to crack, it was a rarity to encounter someone who seriously fought with police officers. Yes, there were some, but not every Bill, Chuck, and Susie.

Next they started shooting and lashing out at us with knives. They punched, kicked, and bit and threw rocks and bricks. They tried to hit us with cars as they made their escapes. Then they killed an officer. And then another.

Crime in general grew worse over the years. Criminals grew weirder with each passing week. Along with tho increases in the overall bizarreness came the change in people.

Politicians stole and cheated and lied. Police chiefs and sheriffs were arrested for corruption. Infrastructure started to fail. Kids were texting and driving and crashing their cars. Children were abducted, raped, and killed. Both male and female teachers were caught having sex with students.

Riots, drive-by shootings, property destroyed, mass shootings. School shootings. Arson.

Long gone are the days when I could pull up beside the Billy Buck “Bubba” Johnsons of the world and tell them to get inside my car because they’re under arrest for a crime they’ve committed. And they’d do it, without question. Not today. No, sir. Now you have to chase bad guys. Then when they’re caught you have to wrestle with them while a mob of bystanders kicks and punches you and tosses rocks at your head. And it never fails that a few screaming looky-loos will have their cellphone cameras shoved in your face hoping to record someone delivering a solid kick to your skull. Then, when you are assaulted or beaten those same looky-loos cheer and clap for the man or woman who caused your blood to gush onto the pavement.

Just a few short weeks ago, practically out of nowhere, came “the virus,” and within an instant the entire world changed, again. As a result, cops today are faced with even more challenges. But we’ll save those issues for another day.

In the meantime, someone ought to write a book about this stuff. I’d bet a dollar to donut that it would sell.

Speaking of donuts … A few months ago I offended someone with my use of “donuts” as the spelling of the round sweet treats with the hole in their middles. And the person said I was ignorant to do so. And, that since I was no more than a dumb cop, it was not surprising that I didn’t didn’t know the proper spelling of the word is “doughnut.”

Well, in the old days, back in Peaceful, Dunkin’ Donuts was a pretty popular donut shop. Of course, in 2019 they dropped “Donut” from their name and are now known as “Dunkin’. I wonder if they realize that they’ve also spelled Dunking incorrectly?

Shouldn’t somebody contact these folks right away to tell them their company names are also spelled incorrectly?

Boston Donuts – Leominster, Massachusetts
Casper’s Donuts – Pueblo, Colorado
Country Donuts – Elgin, Illinois
Cravin Donuts  – Tempe, Arizona
Crispy Donuts – Shreveport, Louisiana
Curry’s Donuts – Wilkes-Barre (Kingston), Pennsylvania
Daily Dozen Doughnuts – Warren, Michigan
Daylight Donuts – Tulsa, Oklahoma
Dipping Donuts – Leominster, Massachusetts
Dixie Cream Donuts  – Tulsa, Oklahoma
Donut Bank  – Evansville, Indiana
Donut Bistro – Reno, Nevada
Donut Cafe – Worcester, Massachusetts
Donut Connection – Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
Donut Country – Murfreesboro, Tennessee
Donut Crazy – New Haven, Connecticut
Donut Delight – Stamford, Connecticut
Donut Dip – West Springfield, Massachusetts
Do-rite Donuts – Chicago, Illinois
Donut King – Minneola, Florida
Donut King – Massachusetts
Donut Mania – Las Vegas, Nevada
Donut Palace – Van, Texas
Donut Professor – Omaha, Nebraska
Donut Stop – Amarillo, Texas
Donuts, donuts, DONUTS!

“When ignorance gets started it knows no bounds.”

Will Rogers

By the way, there’s still plenty of time to enter your story in the Writers’ Police Academy’s annual Golden Donut Short Story Contest. The winner receives the prestigious Golden Donut Award and free registration to the 2021 Writers’ Police Academy! And, to sweeten the pot, New Arc Books will soon publish a collection of these fabulous 200-word tales. Your story could be included!

All you have to do is to fire up your imagination and write a tale using the image below as the main focus of the story. And, the stories must be told in exactly 200 of your very best words.

The contest judge is Linda Landrigan, editor-in-chief of Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine!

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Ask Me Some Questions and I’ll Tell You Some Lies: False Memories

During a police academy class many years ago, an instructor stressed to the group of rookie officers the importance of paying close attention to detail. And, he told them that losing focus on matters at hand could result in overlooking evidence that’s vital to a case. Also important to note, he went on to say, was that not seeing the scene as a whole, including individual people within, such as potential suspects, could mean the difference between the officer living to see another day, or not.

This particular instructor was a firm believer in the use of visual aids, feeling that seeing is believing and that when people experience “hands-on” training they tend to remember those experiences.

Activating the senses by using “hands-on” sessions, such as fingerprinting, traffic stops, crime scene investigation, interview and interrogation, etc., definitely helps to imprint details into one’s memory.

Sure, you could attend the most fantastic lecture about blood spatter and spatter pattens, but the session, not matter how wonderful, would not equal seeing someone use a baseball bat to deliver a blow to someone’s head, an action that sends the red stuff and “matter” spurting and gushing toward a wall or other surface.

Sights, sounds, emotions, and odors associated with an experience sticks in the mind far longer than words spoken by even the best of experts.

For example, the video below from a bloodstain pattern workshop at the Writers’ Police Academy.
 


 

One day, the “hands-on” instructor was teaching about eyewitness statements and how reliable they could be, or not, when suddenly a side door opened and in came a line of a dozen people—actors from a college drama class. One held a knife in one hand, another a small handgun, and another carried a notebook. The others were empty-handed. Ten were dressed in typical everyday clothing. Two, a young man and a young woman, were dressed in swim suits. They were both fit. Extremely fit.

The actors walked straight through the front of the room, behind the instructor, and exited through a door on the opposite side of the classroom. The last person through closed the door behind him. The instructor then asked the cadets to write down a description of the people they’d just seen. The results were eye-opening.

Of the entire class only a couple could, with some degree of accuracy, describe four or five of the actors who’d walked past them. A few had a general idea of the peoples’ appearances. But most couldn’t pinpoint exact clothing types and/or hair colors or styles. Shoes? Nope. Gun? No! Knife? No!

But every single male rookie was able to describe, in detail, the woman and the swimsuit she wore. The males in the class were fairly accurate with their descriptions of the man who wore a swimsuit. The two females in the group provided extremely detailed descriptions of the swimsuited man’s arms, legs, and abdominal muscles. Freckles on his back? Check! Biceps? Triple check! They also were equally as accurate regarding the woman’s swimsuit.

The class was astonished at how poorly they’d done with the exercise. Suppose the person with gun had planned to shoot someone? There were many “what-ifs.” Yes, it was a lesson well-learned. Distraction can be a formidable enemy!

Next, during the instructor’s review of what had taken place, he began to question the class members about what they’d witnessed. While doing so he began suggesting things that they could’ve/might’ve seen. Such as one of the actors wearing a Rolex watch (neither actor wore a watch). He spoke about the actor who wore a pair of round eyeglasses (neither of the actors wore glasses of any type). And he discussed with them in detail the tattoo of a bulldog on one of the actor’s forearms. In reality, no tattoos were visible on either of the actors.

This conversation lasted for a several minutes, with the instructor “implanting” those ideas into the minds of the rookie officers. Then the instructor divided the class into smaller groups and then gave them an assignment. Each group was to write a police report that included detailed descriptions of the suspects/witnesses/actors. The results were stunning.

In the last exercise the groups offered far better descriptions of the actors. However, some included the tattoo or the Rolex watch, and/or the round eyeglasses, when in fact those items were absolutely not present.

Some of the rookies unknowingly allowed the instructor to implant the suggestions into their memories. Then, when the groups put their heads together, those who’d “seen” the tattoo, the watch, and/or the glasses, convinced enough of the others so that as a group they incorrectly presented at least one of the items as factual information that was included into their “official report.”

The first exercise was intended to raise officer awareness. They should always pay close attention to everything and everyone in their surrounding area, and as far beyond as possible. And, to not accept as absolute truth everything someone tells them. No two people see everything in the same light, and it’s awfully easy to allow a swimsuit to skew someone’s attention.

The last exercise was to show how easy it is for an officer to sway a witness or suspect’s “memory” during an interrogation. Therefore, law enforcement officers should be aware that their interviews must be based on evidence to avoid planting a false memory.

Remember, if you say something enough times, well, it becomes easy for someone to believe you.

By the way, I was the instructor who led those police academy classes. I was the instructor who led those police academy classes. I was the instructor who led those police academy classes. I was the instructor who led those police academy classes. I was the instructor who led those police academy classes. I was the instructor who led those police academy classes.

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When a Lover Hires a Hitman to Kill a Devious Woman’s Husband: A Fractured Fairy Tale

The good folks over at crimescenewriter are currently discussing the hired killers, and as it happens I’ve investigated cases where assassins were hired to kill other humans. The “employers'” motives for wanting certain folks to die immediately were the usual sort—jealousy, greed, money, and drugs.

By the way, crimescenewriter is a fabulous Q&A site where writers present questions to member experts (medical examiner, detectives, explosives, weapons, and other top experts in a variety of fields). I learn something new nearly every time I visit.

Since the topic popped up again, I thought today would be a good time to re-post this article. It’s a true story about a low level thief I’ve called Stump Johnson. The alias is to protect the identities of everyone involved in what I’m about to tell you.

As I said above, Stump was not the man’s given name, obviously. But in the area of the south where I worked as a detective, several folks had nicknames they’d “earned” for various reasons.

There was “One-Eye” Pearson (he lost his right eye as a result of a stabbing). “Truck” Turner, a slim, lanky man drove a tractor-trailer for a chicken processing plant. “Backy” Parnell, a man who’d worked at a tobacco plant in Richmond for most of his adult life. “Cotton” Roberts, a farmer’s eldest son. Bill “Jack” Daniels, an avid deer hunter who always, without fail, kept a bottle of Jack Daniels whiskey under the seat of his pickup truck. And we mustn’t forget good ole “Road Runner” Rickert, a form high school football star who enjoyed running from the police even when he’d done nothing wrong. He simply enjoyed seeing cops run in his wake.

Stump didn’t do a thing to earn his nickname other than to be himself. He was short and stocky, and his arms and legs looked like they wanted to be a bit longer but never made it past the appearance of four lengths of chubby, overstuffed linked sausages attached to his torso. He also had a neck that wasn’t visible, as if his head rested squarely on his shoulders. So yeah, he looked like a tree stump. So …

The incident involving Stump started as a simple investigation about stolen property, a cheap copy machine, and it wound up as one of those sorts of investigations where a minor crime snowballed into a convoluted menagerie of criminal activity. One of those crimes involved murder.

Stump broke into a school to steal the copy machine. He did so in order to sell the device, hoping for a return of twenty dollars for very little time and effort invested. Then, after he’d handed over the copier to a local drug dealer in exchange for a small piece of crack cocaine, he’d smoke the drug and then head out to steal something else that could net another twenty-dollar “rock.” It’s a cycle that’s familiar to scores of addicts.

Anyway, Stump stole a copier and, unable to unload it to his regular dealer, sold it to a guy who was known for receiving stolen merchandise. The “guy,” a local businessman, had his “people” transport hot items out of town where they’d resell at a profit. Selling in a location other than where the property was stolen meant the chance of getting caught was less than great.

This time, however, Stump was arrested while purchasing crack cocaine during an undercover narcotics operation. And, to save his own skin, he started singing like a drunk parrot—“So and so sells liquor to kids. Uncle Billy Buck is dating an underage girl. My cousin speeds all the time. My mama once stole a loaf of bread. Aunt Lulla Belle dips snuff. Grandma runs a liquor still.” Anything that he thought would prevent going back to jail.

But the thing that brought me into the picture that night was when he said, “The ‘guy’ who bought the copier I stole is looking for someone he can hire to kill his lover’s husband.”

So we went to work, first by having undercover officers purchase stolen merchandise from the “guy,” who we’ll call Freddie the Fence. During the time of the undercover operation regarding stolen property, I’d also had undercover officers purchase narcotics from Fence’s girlfriend, the wife of the man Fence wanted to kill. I know, the tale’s a bit twisty right now but we’re getting there.

As soon as we had Fence’s adulterous girlfriend in custody, she, too, started snitching on everyone under the sun, including Fence. Miraculously, she’d instantly re-fallen in love with husband and was sorry for the affair with Fence. She said she’d been horrified to learn that Fence planned to have her husband killed. So she said, but feel free to insert a big, fat eye-roll at this point. I didn’t believe it either. Not for a minute. She was in on the plot from the beginning. Actually, the whole thing was her idea.

She told me she was scared of Fence. By the way, we’d recorded the two of them—the woman and Fence—together in their vehicles on numerous occasions and, believe me, the last thing she was, was afraid. If anything, it was Fence who should’ve been frightened of her, with all of the screaming and thrashing about going on during, well, you know.

She finally owned up to being a part of the scheme to murder her husband, hoping for a reduced sentence by being cooperative. She told me the plan was for her to convince her husband to join her on a picnic in a wooded area out in the countryside. The location was hilly with a creek situated where the bottoms of two rolling hills met. It was a place where vegetation was wild and wooly and the tree canopies were thick. It was that deep into the woods.

The specific point where the picnic was to take place was in a clear line of sight, one-hundred yards up to a midway point on the side of one of the hills. At that hillside location, the intended shooter-for-hire fashioned a makeshift hunting blind of branches, limbs, and loose pine straw. If a person didn’t know it was there they’d not have been able to spot it. He was to make the “kill shot” from the blind.

Before the appointed day of the killing, we asked the woman if she’d wear a wire during a meeting with Fence. She agreed and what we heard was as chilling as it gets. Fence detailed the entire plan, including that he’d decided to kill the hired assassin once the killer had murdered the woman’s husband (so many twisty turns). Then he and she would flee to another state where they’d live under assumed identities.

Fence named the assassin and he stated how much he’d already paid as a deposit and the amount of the balance due when the deed was done—$5,000 each time. He described everything, and even spilled the beans about his entire criminal enterprise, including his drug operation and where he bought his supply, and the routes they took when making their runs. He told where they hid stolen property and where they took it to sell, and more. All because he loved and trusted this woman who sold him out in mere seconds. Apparently the love was not reciprocal when a life sentence in state prison was at stake.

So, long story short, with probable cause established, I applied for search warrants for Fence’s business and home, as well as a warrant for the home of the hired gunman. We found stolen property and narcotics at all three places. Fence and Mr. Hitman were arrested and jailed. Both admitted their guilt and settled for a plea agreement.

The girlfriend/wife … sigh …  was welcomed back home by the intended victim of murder. Yes, her husband forgave her for playing a role in what was almost his demise. As far as his wife having an affair with Fence, the husband forgave her for that too. But, less than a year later she was in cahoots with another bad guy and was quite literally caught with her pants down when his place was stormed by police during drug raid. Yes, the goo-goo-eyed husband posted her bond and took her back, again.

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Nine-One-One, What’s Your Emergency? Wait …You’re Kidding, Right?

So you think you’ve seen and heard it all? Well, think again, because these folks actually picked up the phone and dialed 911 to report …

“Help me, please!”

“Ma’am, calm down and tell me what’s wrong.”

“My house is on fire. I just moved in today and turned on the heat and … and … and, that big metal thing in my living room caught on fire, please huuurrrrryyy! There are flames and  fire, and, and, and … AHHHH!!!! it’s getting hot! Huuurrrryyy!!! Oh, God, oh God, oh God … MY CAT’S GONNA DIE!”

Okay, so I arrive and see the distraught five-foot-tall, three-hundred-pound caller standing there on the front porch with the front door wide open. It’s 20 degrees outside and all she’s wearing is a t-shirt. Nothing but a t-shirt. And she’s crying and screaming and begging me to go inside to rescue her cat, a cat that was trapped inside the inferno.

I saw no flames, no smoke, and, well, nothing. So I stepped inside the small house. The cat was asleep on the sofa.

“See, it’s on fire. Look through that little glass and you can see the flames.”

“Ma’am, that’s your heater. It uses fire to warm your home. It’s perfectly safe.”

That’s when she realized she was wearing nothing “butt” a t-shirt.

I radioed dispatch and told them to cancel the responding fire units. Then I tried to erase from my mind what I’d just seen. It was not a pretty sight.

“I think my house is on fire.”

“You think your house is on fire? Do you see flames or smoke?”

“No, but my wall’s hot. Would you please send someone over to check it out?” Please hurry.

I went to the door, peeked inside through the glass inset, and saw a gentleman sitting on his couch watching Jeopardy.

I knocked.

The door opened quickly and the little man with hoot owl eyes peered out at me. He motioned for me to come inside.

“Thanks for coming officer. My house may be on fire.”

He led me to a fireplace and then placed his hand on the wall just over the center of the mantle.

The wall is hot. See, feel right here.”

“Sir, you have a roaring fire going in the fireplace. Naturally, the wall above it may get a little warm.”

“Thank you, officer. That never occurred to me.”

“Please help me! I’ve been locked inside my bedroom for several hours and can’t get out. I’m getting really hungry, too. And I’m pregnant and I’m really scared. Please help me!”

I broke a glass beside the front door, reached inside and turned the deadbolt latch (See how easy it is for burglars. Use a keyed deadbolt for better security, but remove the key from the lock). Then I opened the front door and went inside. Sure enough, she’s locked inside the master bedroom and she’s crying.

“I think I’m going to lose my baby because I’m so upset.”

More sobbing.

“Ma’am, did you try turning the little button in the center of the knob?”

A beat of silence followed by a faint click.

“I think I have it now. Thank you for coming by.”

“Yeah, um…could you send a cop over here right away, please. I just moved into this apartment and can’t figure out how to turn up the cold water temperature on my kitchen sink. It’s too cold and the landlord won’t help. He just hangs up on me.”

Instead of responding to the residence I used my cellphone to call the gentleman and politely explained that water temperatures are not a true emergency and that cold water temperatures occur naturally. They are what they are because tap water is piped directly from the city. He then proceeded to curse and rant and rave, saying I was a waste of taxpayer money and that I was a huge part of the reason the country was going down the toilet, which, as I explained to the “nice” man, is another place where the water temperature is non-adjustable.

Finally, our once or twice monthly 911 call to the same residence.

 

“You gotta send someone over right away. Elvis is back inside my refrigerator and he won’t stop singing. He keeps up that wild racket all night long.”

And so it goes, night after night after night …

 

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Stuff it in Your Underwear, and Other Details to Add Sizzle to Your Tale

Sometimes it’s the tiniest detail that makes a setting pop, zing, and sizzle. They’re the little things that cause readers to sit up and take notice. They evoke emotion and stir memories of real life experiences. They’re the things that make readers leave everything behind to step into the worlds you’ve created. After all, a well-written and well-crafted setting can be a character in its own right, and it’s equally as important as the fictional people who live within the covers of your books.

A great example of a writer who’s mastered the art of setting is superstar author James Lee Burke. Burke, whose settings are incredibly detailed, are written from the heart, and the details he creates shine through in every letter of every word. His scenes and characters are deeply layered and this is so because he often relies on personal life experiences.

Burke often talks about having worked in the Texas oilfields, and as a surveyor. He taught school and was employed once as a social worker. As a reporter he wrote for a  newspaper. Like many of us in our early years, and even later in life, money was tight back in the day for Burke and his family. They’d lived in a garage, motels, and a trailer. Thirty years ago Burke was an alcoholic.

It is the combination of Burke’s experiences that offers inspiration for his writings. He’s also adamant that writers should be aware of the people around them.

During a 2015 interview with Publishers Weekly, Burke said, “A good writer is a good listener. The great dialog of the world is all around us, if we’ll only listen. In similar fashion, the great stories are in situations we see everyday, just as the great heroes, the real gladiators, are usually standing next to us in the grocery checkout.”

I’vr often heard writers speaking about adding to their next book a bit of information they heard while at a writers conference. A couple of years, for example, at the Writers’ Poilce Academy,  Tod and Lee Goldberg saw a sign featuring a unique business name and both authors immediately claimed “dibs” at using the name in a future book.

Lee Child once asked me about the typical items stored in the trunk of a patrol car. He needed a speck of detail for a Reacher book. J.A. Jance once asked me about driving and skidding on icy roads. The scant bit of information was vital to an opening scene of a book that, as usual with Judy, quickly turned into a bestseller.

Donald and Renee Bain used to contact me often when they needed information for their Murder She Wrote series. Stuart Kaminsky called on both Denene and me for material. Lee Golderg … more of the same—tiny details for a Monk book. James Lee Burke asked me about fingerprints, a very specific but small detail and, like the others who contact various experts, much of the information was needed to “perk-up’ a scene, paragraph, sentence, or dialog. Sometimes all that’s needed is a single word … proper terminology.

So when writing about cops and when you really want to insert something special into your twisted and thrilling tales of mystery, suspense, and/or romance, ask an expert for unique behind the scenes details that will surprise the reader. Show your fans that you’ve done your homework. After all, your goal is to entertain and please the people who spend their hard-earned money to purchase the books you’ve labored over for the past several months, creating something special just for them.

Unique Cop Stuff

To help out, here are a few tiny specks of information you might find intriguing.

  1. A kevlar vest typically doesn’t quite reach the waistband of the wearer, which leaves a gap of a couple of inches between the bottom of the vest and the belt area of the pants. Nothing there but shirt material and flesh. Therefore, when sliding in and out of a police car, the hard and dense material of the vest sometimes catches and pinches a bit of “love handle,” and it feels like you’d imagine. It hurts and causes the officer to wince. Although, if people are around at the time, the officer will suck it up and pretend it didn’t happen. Still, that tiny tear in the corner of the eye is a dead giveaway. OUCH!
  2. While wearing a Kevlar vest, officers typically wear an undershirt of some type. The problem, though, is that the undershirt often “rides up” with all of the climbing in-and-out of patrol cars and scuffling with bad guys that officers do all shift long. So, to avoid the uncomfortable bunching-up of material that you can’t get to without stripping down, some officers tuck the tail of their undershirt into their underwear. The elastic band of the “Fruit of the Looms” holds the t-shirt firmly in place.
  3. Officers sometimes store an extra set of cuffs on the spotlight control arm.While driving along, especially on bumpy and curvy roads, etc., there’s a constant “click” of metal tapping metal as the handcuffs hanging from the spotlight arm sway with the motions of the car. After a while, though, the noise is “tuned out” and simply becomes a part of the cacophony of sounds inside the patrol vehicle—constant police radio chatter, FM radio station, the drunk yelling and singing from the backseat, and even a partner going on and on about his kids or the big fish he caught, or the mangled dead body they’d discovered at a crash scene earlier in the night.

4. Police departments use many symbols of rank designation. Some department supervisors wear white shirts (some departments issue white shirts to all officers), while others issue gold badges to their higher-ranking officers. But the easiest way to tell an officer’s rank is to look at their collar insignia. Each pin is a representation of the officer’s rank.

Collar insignias, beginning with the top ranking officer (chief)

Colonel, or Chief (some chiefs prefer to be addressed as Colonel) – An eagle (birds) on each collar

Sheriffs and chiefs may also wear a series of stars to indicate their rank.

Major – Oak leaf on each collar

Captain – Two bars on each collar (the two bars are often called “railroad tracks,” a great detail to include in a story)

Lieutenant – One bar on each collar

Sergeant hree stripes on the collar and/or the sleeve (photo below)

Sometimes rank is indicated on the badge.

Corporal – Two stripes on the collar and/or the sleeve

Officer – Chevron, or single stripe

 

Hash marks on the sleeve indicate length of service.

For example, each hash mark normally represents five years on the job. Sometimes, to avoid a sleeve fully-covered in long row of hash marks, stars are often used to represent each five years served. In the case of the officer/police chief above, each star in the circle represents five years of service, plus four hash marks, each of which, in this case, indicate a single year. So, 5 stars and 4 hash marks = a total of 29 years on the job.

Other pins and medals worn by officers may include …

Copy (2) of 20150713_092344

Here’s a closer look at the bling.

(from top to bottom):

– Name tag.

– Award ribbons – Community service award, length of service, expert marksman, lifesaving award, medal of valor.

– Pistol expert (to earn this award the officer must consistently shoot an average of 95% or better on the range).

– FTO pin worn by field training officers.

– K9 pin worn by K9 officers.

– Indicates outstanding service, above and beyond.

*Remember, ribbons and pins and other do-dads will vary by individual departments and agencies.

Pins

Pins on the back of name tags, ribbons, etc. are used to attach the insignias to an officer’s uniform. A small clasp (similar to an ear ring backing) is pressed over the pin tips to hold them in place.

Unfortunately, the clasps often fall off during scuffles with rowdy bad guys and, if the officer is not wearing a bullet-resistant vest, which was typical “back in the day,” could result in the pin tips puncturing the officer’s skin.

For a quick fix in the field, lost clasps can be temporarily replaced with pencil erasers.

Okay, that’s the tip of the detail iceberg. Questions?

“The author must know his countryside, whether real or imaginary, like his hand.” ~ Robert Lewis Stevenson

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