When two men in a passing Bonneville paid scant attention to him—indeed, made a conspicuous effort to ignore him—Officer Freddy Williams of the Marion (Ark.) Police Department decided to direct his attention to them.
I understand full well the temptation to administer a little street justice. But while you may be able to rationalize Avenging Angels actions to yourself, you'll have a devil of a time defending it in court.
Humane issues not withstanding, the situation was a no-brainer: The deer had to be put out of its misery before it caused a traffic accident.
Ours is a profession that places emphasis on saying what we mean and meaning what we say. However, what we say and what we mean can be wildly divergent in the minds of our audience. What follows are some cautionary tales about using ambiguous wording.
Example Three: Cops ask a resident if she minds if they search a bedroom.“No problem,” she says.The
search is conducted and evidence seized, only to be suppressed at
trial. The reason? The person that granted permission had no legal
standing to do so.
Some cops could use a hug. Others could use a Huggy Bear. Like Starsky and Hutch's trusty tattletale, reliable informants provide us with a worm's eye view of their sordid social circles, a heads up on threats to officer safety, and the groundwork for search warrants. They hang in circles we wouldn't want to enter. There is no question that the access they have and the intelligence they acquire is often invaluable to law enforcement.
Durante arrived at the scene just as Bright was putting out a crime broadcast with descriptions of the couple seen leaving the vehicle. Both had been seen running eastbound on Coleford before making a right on the next street, Newmarket.
When asked why he robbed banks, Willie Sutton replied, "Because that's where the money is."
If someone were to ask a cop why he conducts patrol checks of motel parking lots, he might very well reply, "Because that's where the dirtbags are."
One of the most widely recognized banes of the job among good cops is other cops’ inability or unwillingness to do their jobs. And nowhere is that inability and unwillingness more manifest than in that age-old ritual known as the "kiss off."
There are times when the information provided is too simplistic. While descending on a suspect who was hellbent on taking out his girlfriend and her family with an AK-47, we were advised that the suspect was "on the right side of the girlfriend’s house." Without a "You Are Here" marker painted on the street, we couldn't tell if it was the right side when facing the house or the right side when looking out of it.
There are times when you have to take your time on a call. Times when you have to wait for backup, develop a well-coordinated game plan, and arrange for logistical and tactical support before you take action. But when a nine-year-old calls 911 and says that his daddy has just shot and killed his mommy and is coming for him, that isn't one of them.
Reasons for sound-proofing our approaches are myriad. Domestic calls are notoriously dangerous, with over half of the officers who die on such calls killed upon approach. One way to counter this danger is to make your approach in stealth mode.
The average criminal offender will do just about anything to avoid contact, detention, or ultimate arrest.
"Are you holding?"
For cops and dopers, this question is the first move in a high-stakes game of hide and seek.
At 75, Joe Arpaio is serving his fourth term as sheriff of Maricopa County, Ariz. It's a job he's held for 15 years, much to the delight of the voting population in the Phoenix area and much to the dismay of politically correct, civil liberties advocates who characterize his policies as cruel and the man himself as a dangerous dinosaur.
Interviewing a child is in some ways very similar to interviewing any crime victim but, in some ways, it's very different. The first hurdle is to get the child to open up.
As a Washington State Trooper, Kelly Kalmbach had been given her fair share of adrenaline jolts courtesy of other drivers. But few had come so close to taking her out as the driver of a white Cadillac that nearly clipped her patrol car around midnight June 25, 2006, on State Route 7 near Spanaway.