“SHE’S RUNNIN’ YOUR WAY, RANDEL. TAKE her down,” Sikes called over his radio. Back on the streets, I was waiting in the alcove at the Four Queens when a prostitute, high-heels in her hand, came tearing up the sidewalk toward me. I tripped her with the toe of my boot as she sped past, and she went down, high-heels flying past the curb and into the street. Cora was a sexy, tall, blond, dressed in a mini-skirt, a tank top, expansive jewelry, false eye-lashes, lace nylons that now had holes in the toes, and a look of surprise on her face that said it all.
The girls that worked Fremont and the Naked City had not yet received the Sheriff’s message that the streets were being cleaned and that prostitution as they knew it was to cease. I straddled Cora, grabbed her right arm with my gloved hands and cuffed it. All the time, she was begging, “What did I do wrong? Please let me go, officer.” Finally, she turned her head as I cuffed her other hand, and looked at me. “Randel, you pig! I’m just a workin’ girl and you know I didn’t do anything wrong. What the hell you tryin’ to do?”
“Cora, baby, I’m running you in for loitering for the purpose of prostitution. Officer Sikes just told you we are cleaning the streets, and you ran from him. What do you expect, special treatment? Do you have AIDS? Are you HIV positive? Get up now, and don’t give me any grief. You can call your bail bondsman from the jail.”
About that time, Sam Sikes pulled up in his patrol car and I placed Cora in the back seat, wrapping the seatbelt around her cuffed arms before I belted her down. “Sam, book Cora for loitering for the purpose of prostitution.”
“Sure thing, Hawk. Is she HIV positive?”
“She’s not sayin’, but the nurse at the jail will check her right away, and if she is, she’ll be charged with a felony.”
“I’m adding resisting arrest too. See you back here in twenty.” Off he went, carrying one more whore off our streets.
This isn’t gonna work; it’s not fast enough, I thought, as I went looking for my next quarry. Sam’s and my plan was going to take too long at this rate. I called dispatch, “Control, Frank-3, can you arrange for Jeff Riley to pick up a U-Haul truck, and to bring a female corrections officer, a booking officer and a stack of necessary forms, and meet me at the corner of Paradise and Las Vegas Blvd. And Cheri’, have Lieutenant Garcia contact me after Grumpy runs in Cora and he books her. We need to talk. Thanks, Cheri’.”
It was Friday evening, still hot even for a winter day, and Sikes and I had just made our seventh arrest of the afternoon. Sikes, Riley, Senega and I would be busy all night. I thought that we could use a little extra help. “While you’re at it, Cheri’ ask Lieutenant Germain to contact me too.”
Shortly I heard, “This is Lieutenant Germain, what do you need, Randel?”
“Go to five sir… Sir, could you assign Officer Wells and Officer Gilmore to help us tonight? It’s going to be extra busy on the streets with all the football players in town, and Sikes and I could use a little assistance tonight and tomorrow.”
“Give me your location and I’ll send them as soon as they finish their reports for the afternoon.”
“Thanks sir. We’re going to park a U-Haul at the corner of Paradise and Las Vegas Blvd. in the lot behind Carl’s Jr’s. The owner won’t mind if we conduct our arrests and processing there.”
Things were popping and all of us were running back and forth from the streets to the U-Haul and we had quite a stash of girls we were holding for the jail. When I was making my next arrest, the corrections officer called on my radio, “Officer Randel, we have a little problem at the van; could you stop by soon?”
“Frank-3 Enroute! I’m about two minutes away. Arrive me Sarah,” I replied.
Rookie Dane Gilmore was holding a prostitute at bay. Both his hands were gloved and he was trying to keep the lady of the night at arms length, but she was continuing to struggle with him and was calling him every name in the book. I suddenly recognized his quarry, and smiled as I alighted from my vehicle. “Hey Gilly, how’s it goin’? Looks like you’ve got a winner here.”
“Not exactly sir, according to Officer Roscoe. She says that I made a mistake and that I will have to transport Miss La Fleur to jail myself. Unfortunately sir, Miss La Fleur does not think we have the right to run her in.”
“Tell you what Gilly, let me handle Miss La Fleur, and you can get back on the street.” I whispered in Gilmore’s ear, and he laughed, and then looked knowingly at our tall, willowy prostitute.
“Thanks sir. I’ll be going now.”
Just then Lt. Dan (Benedict) Arnold arrived. “Randel, I heard that last call. I knew this would be a fiasco down here. What’s goin’ on? Can’t you handle your own operation?”
“Sorry Lt. Arnold. Just a little mix-up with Miss La Fleur. We need to transport her to jail separately. You wouldn’t happen to be free, would you, sir? I could sure use the help.” Miss La Fleur blinked her long eyelashes at the lieutenant and he appreciated her lovely smile and her sensuous body.
“You intend to book her, Randel?”
“Yes sir, for loitering for the purpose of prostitution.”
Suddenly, Miss La Fleur protested. “Lieutenant, I was not loitering. I was on my way to work at the Sports Garden where I’m an exotic dancer. There has been a grievous misunderstanding. I am going to pull my work card from my little handbag and show it to you.”
“Ma’am,” I interrupted. “Keep your hand out of your bag, or I will deck you.”
Miss La Fleur jumped back and cringed at the thought that I might really strike her. “Oh dear, please Lieutenant,” she looked at Arnold, “you won’t let him hurt me, will you? I simply abhor violence.”
Benedict growled at me, “Back off, Randel. I’ll transport this little lady to the station and we will take care of everything for her. Don’t worry. Come along Miss La Fleur,” he stated as he led her to his patrol car and opened the front passenger door. He glared at me as he rounded the front of the vehicle and rejoined, “I’ll talk to you later about this, Randel. You’d better have your crew be a little more careful. You can all be sued, and so can the department if things aren’t done right. It’s called probable cause!”
As Arnold drove away with his little prize, Roscoe and Jacque Taylor, the other female officer, exited the U-Haul, our temporary jail. “Where is Lt. Arnold taking Freddie, Randel?” Roscoe asked.
“To jail, or to the station, I’m not sure. Why?”
“Doesn’t he know that Freddie is a He-She, or didn’t anyone tell him?” she queried, smiling broadly.
“Nope! I don’t think so, Roscoe. He thinks she is one hot dancin’ mama, and he was lookin’ at her with real lust in his eyes. I’ve seen that look on him before. Even let her sit in the front seat with him. He’s in for a real surprise then isn’t he. Ha! Ha! Ha! I’ll bet Freddie is already makin’ a move on old ‘Benedict’ Arnold. Wonder if he’ll make any stops along the way. Wait until Sikes hears about this one. Good work ladies. Book ‘em, Benedict.”