But when it came to the administrative end of the judicial system—that niche where cases are filed or rejected, continued or dismissed, argued or bargained, and sometimes even adjudicated—my exposure had been largely what I had heard from other officers. Sure, I’d had peripheral involvement in cases between the time I dropped off reports and answered subpoenas. But when it came to getting cases filed, somebody else had “been there, done that.”
Perhaps that is one reason why I felt apprehensive upon receiving word of my transfer to detective bureau. Once there, the buck would stop with me.
Going in, I had a couple of things in my favor. First, I had a reasonably good relationship with the bureau investigators, a vast majority of whom I had previously worked with on the patrol side.
Perhaps more importantly, I let them know that I would not be shy about asking stupid questions. This is a piece of advice often given and rarely acted upon. If you ask all the stupid questions early in a situation, people generally won’t begrudge you at that time because you’re expected to be ignorant. They may begrudge you later should you ask such questions when you’re expected to be more knowledgeable.
For their part, the investigators were willing and oft times capable of answering my myriad questions. In reviewing the scant training literature I was provided, I found policies that weren’t being adhered to. Little things like the handling investigator’s responsibility to white out victims’ names on some copies of reports. “Oh, we haven’t done that for years; the secretaries do that,” was the response I received to that stupid question. As in patrol, there was policy…and there was reality.