ANOTHER MORNING WITH BRIEFING AT 07:00 hr. I made it just under the wire as usual and Grumpy, Riley, Wells, Roscoe, Gilmore and I were seated at the back in our own little exclusive group. We had started this since we had all been assigned or chosen to work the sheriff’s ‘cleanup’. We were seeing good progress with the vacating and abandonment of the prostitutes in the Naked City and the downtown area. We seemed to be making a dent in the Cuban Cartel, cleaning up some of the filth in and around Fairfield Park and Tam Drive. We might even have felt a little smug about it, but we all tried to look and to act as normal as usual. Damn, Grumpy, you need to wipe that satisfied look off your usual down-turned face. Somebody might think you’re starting to enjoy your work. What will our rookies think? You know how impressive and suspicious they are.
The sergeants and Lieutenant Germain were up front, and briefing had proceeded as usual. However, Lieutenant Arnold was missing, but we thought nothing of it, other than being glad that he was not there. We received the hot sheets for hot cars and any new things we needed to be aware of for the day. About ten minutes into the briefing, in walked Lieutenant Dan (Benedict) Arnold. Grumpy looked at me and motioned as he spoke, “Something’s up. That punkin’ head is goin’ to cause us a problem; I just know it.”
“What the hell can he do,” I inquired, “we haven’t done anything wrong.” Famous last words.
At that time, Lt. Arnold approached the front and asked if Lt. Germain and the sergeants were through with the briefing. Lieutenant Germain allowed that they were just finishing and asked Arnold if he had anything of importance to add. I could tell by the look on Lt. Germain’s face that something was wrong. “Lt. Arnold, we are finished here, and I have to leave. If you have anything further, please continue.” With that, Germain rose from his seat and left the room through the side door. We’re in trouble I thought!
I felt a twinge in my gut as if I had just been kicked there, but I ignored it. Lt. Arnold dismissed his squad and the others except our squad. Then I knew it was going to be a shit kicker. My gut is always right.
“For you officers here, I have received an anonymous tip that officers in this squad are carrying weapons that are unauthorized by the department.” He looked at Jeff Riley, “Officer Riley, are you aware of any such actions?”
“No Lieutenant Arnold, I don’t recall anything.”
“You are dismissed, Officer Riley, to return to your regular duties with my squad. You officers of Lieutenant Germain’s squad, and Sergeant Blake’s squad will remain, and undergo a weapons check immediately.” What was so weird was that sergeant ‘Dumb-Dumb’ Douglas’s squad was excused and they went on duty. Also, Riley had been returned to his old position without the knowledge, as far as I know, of Lt. Germain or the Undersheriff. Hmm?
The first thing I did was look at Grumpy; Roscoe looked at me, and Grumpy looked at Wells and Gilmore. In unison, the three of us whispered, “‘Dumb Dumb’ Douglas!” That little wart!
“Officer Randel, please step to the front of the room.”
I rose and sauntered to the front and stood rigidly in front of Arnold, approximately two feet from his face, invading his personal space and almost daring him to start something. With a smirk on his face, Lt. Arnold backed up and ordered, “Randel, we’ll start with you. Place all your weapons here on the table so that we can all see what you carry.”
“That’s Officer Randel to you, sir,” I replied. “What weapon do you want to see first?” I hesitated with both hands ready to draw.
“I’ll take your gun first, Officer Randel.”
“Do you want it in your own hand, or should I place it safely on the table, sir?”
“On the table, smart ass. I won’t put up with your insubordination, Officer Randel. Now, take out the rest of your weapons.”
With a pleasant smile, really a smirk that more than matched his, I removed my duty weapon, a Smith & Wesson, nine-millimeter and set it on the table. I removed my PR-24, laid it on the table. I removed a knife and slapped it on the table. Then I turned and returned to my seat.
“Officer Randel, is that all the weapons you have? You don’t have any thing else on you? No back up weapons? If so, bring them to the front also.”
I had to walk back to the front where I removed my back-up 380 Baretta from my boot and my extra knife from my other boot. I examined them closely and carefully before I gently slipped them onto the table, and glared at Arnold. I removed my two shot Derringer from under my belt at the waist, and removed another knife from my pocket. Still holding them in my hands I asked, “Is that enough, sir?”
“Don’t you think that’s enough?”
“I replied arrogantly, “Not really!” I smacked them forcefully onto the table.
Arnold looked from me to the back of the room and asked, “Is that your black briefcase back there, Officer Randel?” He’s watching his protocol now for sure.
“Why yes it is,” I sarcastically rendered. I’d like to punch you out so bad, Benedict Arnold, that I can taste it. “Would you like to borrow it?”
“Just bring it up here.”
I walked back, retrieved the case and Grumpy whispered, “Sumbitch! Go get him!” Placing the briefcase on the table, I stood back and waited.
“Well, open it or I will!” demanded Arnold.
I turned it around for him to open, but he could not open it and I knew it. He did not have the combination. Arnold was flustered and told Sgt. ‘Dumb Dumb’ Douglas to open it and he could not either. “Open the case, Officer Randel.” I turned one number on either side of the case to zero and opened my briefcase.
Sergaent‘Dumb Dumb’ who was still standing close at hand had to make a big showing and said, “Lieutenant, look at this!” He pulled out my Ruger 357 then he pulled out my double bladed boot knife that my dad had bought me.
“Well,” expounded Arnold, “I suppose you weren’t going to tell us that you had weapons in your briefcase, Officer Randel.”
“No sir, I wasn’t; you didn’t ask about my briefcase, you simply asked me to remove all the weapons I was carrying on my person.”
“Well, we’ll take care of this. First of all, you are not allowed to have that many knives. And look, you have one, two, three…you’ve got four guns!”
“There’s nothing in policy that says I can’t have four guns.”
“Well, that’s a little over kill,” screeched Arnold.
“I guess that’s your opinion and since you’ve never been on the streets and have never done any real po-lice work in your life, you would never know.”
“Randel that will cost you a write-up.”
“Thank you Lt. Arnold. Maybe you can have Sgt. ‘Dumb Dumb’ Douglas write it for you.”
Douglas replied, “I will also write you up, Officer Randel for being uncooperative and calling me ‘Dumb Dumb’.”
“Thank you very much.”
Lieutenant Arnold ordered Douglas to pat me down. “Sir, if ‘Dumb Dumb’ here even so much as touches me with his hand, I’m gonna break it.” Everybody knows that I am an even-tempered, thoughtful po-lice officer, but they also know that I am privy to my own private space and body. Nobody messes with me unless I want him or her to. And I sure as hell did not want Arnold or Douglas to lay a hand on me. It got very quiet in the briefing room.
Sergeant Douglas quietly voiced, “I think that’s it, Lieutenant.”
That doesn’t clear it with me, Douglas, you’re still on my shit list, I thought. I took my note pad out of my briefcase and began writing.
“What are you writing, Officer Randel?”
“My shit list; I’m adding Douglas’s name twice along with yours, and you, sir, are already on it four times. I’ll have both your asses before I’m through. “If that is all, sir, may I return to my seat?”
Lt. Arnold ignored me and called Sam Sikes to the forefront. Grumpy rose slowly and ambled recklessly to the front of the room, turned toward the back and looking at the other officers there queried, “Lieutenant Arnold, sir, are all these officers going to be asked to place their weapons on the table too? If so, isn’t it a waste of precious time to do it one at a time? We need to be on duty as soon as possible, sir.”
“Yes, every officer will show his or her weapons,” answered Arnold.
“Well, why are all of ‘Dumb Dumb’s’ squad on duty and not showing their weapons? Isn’t that discrimination?” asked Sikes.
“Officer Sikes,” interrupted Sergeant Douglas, “You will also be written up for name calling.”
“My squad is not under suspicion and is already on duty. That is none of your business, Officer Sikes,” replied Arnold.
“So sir, you are just picking on Lieutenant Germain and Sergeant Blake’s officers. I see. Okay. We’ll take care of this ourselves, sir.”
“Is that some kind of threat, Officer Sikes?”
“Take it any way you want, sir and do whatever you want with it. You will anyway; it’s okay.” Grumpy mumbled under his breath, “I’m gonna cut you long, hard and watch you bleed, you dirty sum-bitch.”
Lieutenant Arnold heard something and said, “What did you say, Grumpy?”
Grumpy looked the lieutenant square in his face and cautioned, “L.o.o.k I’m not Grumpy to you. You’re not my friend and I don’t like you. So, Lt. Arnold, it’s either Officer Sikes or it’s Officer Sam Sikes or Officer to you because you are not my friend. Only my friends may call me Grumpy. So I am going to have to write you up for failure to follow protocol when addressing another officer. And if ‘Dumb Dumb is writing me and Officer Randel up for not using proper names, we are going to have to write you up also.”
Sikes bellied-up to the table, He does have a little belly, okay by me for his age and stature. He placed his 45, his PR-24, his belt knife, and his two shot Derringer from under his belt onto the table; he removed his ankle holster which held a 38 and two knives, moved to his other leg and removed another Derringer and two more knives. At that time, Lieutenant Arnold and ‘Dumb Dumb’ Douglas were shaking their heads. As Sikes turned to walk back to the rear of the room, he hesitated, turned and approached the table. “Oh, Lt. Arnold, I forgot my two pocket knives.”
Arnold made the point, “Why in the world do you need so many knives, Officer Sikes?”
“To clean all of my finger nails, sir,” proffered Sikes bitterly.
Arnold turned red with rage and inhaled deeply. As Sam Sikes returned to his seat, Arnold interrogated, “Isn’t that brown briefcase yours, Officer Sikes?”
To which Sam Sikes uttered, “You damned well betcha, Lieutenant.” Sikes strode maliciously toward the front of the room, did not hesitate but swung open his briefcase. “Yeah, I have some more knives, and a 357.” He set them down harshly and looking meekly at Arnold, queried, “Do fingernail clippers count, Lieutenant?”
“No Officer Sikes. Do you have any more weapons on you or with you?”
“No sir. I used to carry an ice pick, but I haven’t seen it lately. I don’t remember using it on anyone, so it should be here somewhere, but I can’t find it.”
“Maybe it’s in your car, Officer Sikes. Perhaps we should check in there.” Oh shit, here we go. That’s what this is all about. Arnold won’t like what he finds in our po-lice cars. But, he will be overjoyed if he is trying to get rid of us.
“I don’t think so, Lt., maybe it’s in my locker.” Grumpy looked back at me, sorry that he had made a mistake and had given the lieutenant and the sergeant the idea that we might have more weapons in our lockers. Looking directly at Douglas, Sikes mentioned, “An officer has to be prepared. You can’t be a dummy, Douglas.”
I thought that Lieutenant Arnold was just about ready to call off the weapons check when he looked straight at Officer William Wells and said, “Wells, Willy, please step forward.”
To my surprise, I saw Willy stand, straighten himself to his full height and looking deep into the lieutenant’s beady eyes, scowl, “Officer Wells to you, sir, not Willy!” The boy has grown a pair of balls, by golly.
Lt. Arnold turned crimson once again as Officer Sikes spoke up, “We will be forced to write you up for that too, Lieutenant Arnold, because that is not the proper use of po-lice protocol.”
Wells marched militantly to the front, removed his S&W nine-millimeter gun, and removed his baton, his boot knife, his pocketknife and his back-up gun from his ankle. I was hoping beyond hope that he did not have any other weapons. “Officer Wells, is that your briefcase by your chair?”
“Yes it is, sir. Let me retrieve it and open it for you.” Wells marched back and returned to the desk, slung open the lid to the briefcase so that Arnold could see that in the case was Grumpy’s ice pick.
“Where did you get that ice pick, Wells?” asked Arnold.
I give Willy credit. After all I trained him. “I bought it at the store for my house so when I go home, I can chip some ice.”
“Is that your ice pick, Grumpy?” queried Arnold. Grumpy did not answer because that was not his proper name. It took Lt. Arnold several tries (like a parent calling out all the names of the children until at last the right name is called) before he came to Officer Sikes.
Then Grumpy, Officer Sikes, stated, “I stuck it in junior’s briefcase for a joke. He didn’t know anything about it. Sorry kid.”
“Officer Sikes, we will have to have a closed-door meeting regarding this. Officer Gilmore, please come forward.”
Gilmore came forward and removed approximately the same amount of weaponry as Wells did. Arnold told Gilmore that he would be allowed to carry one knife and Gilmore looked back at Grumpy. “You don’t have to look back at Grumpy, ah, Officer Sikes, Officer Gilmore. I am in charge here.”
“Sir, Officer Sam Sikes is my field training officer, and I am required to do as he tells me.” That little guy is game too, I observed.
Next came Roscoe. She had one gun, her baton, a knife and one backup. So she was statistically okay. However, if he had asked, he would have found another gun and another knife in her briefcase, along with many other female items that could serve to do damage to anyone.
Seeming satisfied, and having wasted a lot of time, Lieutenant Arnold proceeded to give us a little lecture. He told us that each of us was to turn in by the end of the week, a report designating the proper use and number of weapons for use in the field. I thought, hell, that’s easy. I can get any of the girls to do that for us. No problemo!
Lieutenant Arnold finished his little speech, looked at the clock and expounded, “It’s getting late and my squad is bearing the brunt of the load on the street. I want you to…”
Lieutenant Germain entered the room. “What the hell is going on? What’s with that pile of weapons? Who do they belong to?”
Grumpy spoke up first. “Lt., that big pile there is mine. That one over there is Randel’s, that one is Well’s, Gilmore’s and Roscoe’s, sir.”
“Sikes, put your weapons back on. Randel, do the same. You others too. Get this stuff out of here and get on the street, all of you.”
Lieutenant Arnold informed Lieutenant Germain, “I would like to speak with you out in the hallway.”
Lieutenant ‘Mean’ Gene Germain is a good and a patient man and a great policeman, but even he has his boiling point. “Lieutenant Arnold,” he spoke respectfully, “If you have anything to say to me about any of my personnel, say it here and now. You will talk right here, or you won’t talk at all.”
“Well, I had an anonymous tip that these officers were carrying unacceptable weapons so I decided to make an unannounced weapons check just to see. I also was informed that there was a grenade used at Fairfield Park.”
“So, where’s the grenade, Lieutenant?”
“Well, we couldn’t find one yet, sir,” spoke Douglas sheepishly.
“Fine! Then leave my guys the hell alone. They need to be on the streets doing their jobs. Arnold, you and I will have words in private as soon as these officers are gone.”
“Lt. Germain, we need to complete the search of these officer’s vehicles before I can clear them. One I would like to check for sure is Grump…”
Before he could finish, ‘Mean’ Gene corrected, “Lt. that is not right. Were you referring to Officer Sikes? I will have to write you up, Lieutenant Arnold for degrading a subordinate officer. How do you expect to gain his respect?” Lt. Germain turned and winked at Grumpy. “What do you mean clear them? Hell, this is my squad. Clear your own damned squad and leave mine alone. Where the hell do you get the idea that you are in charge of these people anyway? You’re interfering with day to day operation of my squad and that is not permissible. What damned car do you want to check? Pick one and let’s go to it.”
As we were on the way out to the car I questioned Grumpy, “Do you have what I think you have in your car, Grumpy?”
“Hell yes, I have all kinds of stuff. Even some from Nam. I’m a dead man walkin’. But that’s all right, Hawk, don’t worry about it.”
I slipped Sikes the keys to my car. “Give them this set. My car’s not as bad as yours.”
When Lieutenant Germain asked for the keys to Grumpy’s car, Grumpy tossed him my keys. To our surprise, the lieutenant walked right past Sikes’ car and to another vehicle, went to the trunk and opened it. Aha! I thought. Our lieutenant is smart. ‘Dumb Dumb’ and Benedict aren’t that shrewd. They never check the sheet to see what vehicle belongs to whom. They won’t realize that it’s my car.
Lieutenant Arnold ordered, “All of you stand at attention and do not approach this vehicle.” No one asked if it was Sikes’ car. There was a shotgun in the trunk, which was no problem. Arnold looked all around and found nothing. Douglas checked inside on the driver’s side, under the seats, and in the back and discovered nothing. I was relieved. Arnold was not that sharp and neither was Douglas. Grumpy had the grenade in his car, and they were checking mine. However, I noticed that my ditty bag was missing. They would have found two more weapons in it; another write up. That was a mystery that I would solve later.
“Well, Arnold, are you satisfied?” queried Lt. Germain disgustedly. “Can we get down to business now?” He turned to all his squad that was patiently standing at the side watching Arnold’s tirade and ordered, “All of you take you equipment and hit the street.” We all started to leave when we heard Lieutenant Germain say, “Lt. Arnold, I will speak with you over here.” The two walked to a private corner and I could tell that Lt. Germain was giving Lt. Arnold a good going over.
Roscoe leaned over to me and stated, “Oh my goodness, if Germain hits Arnold, he’s a dead man.”
It was not clear what was said, but when our lieutenant was through, Lt. ‘Benedict’ Arnold walked back as fast as his legs would carry him, not saying a word to any of us, nor even to ‘Dumb Dumb. He stormed to the building and slammed the door.
Lieutenant Germain met us at the cars when he returned and said to Grumpy, “You can give Randel his keys back, Sikes. Consider yourself lucky today.” We haven’t fooled that man one bit, I surmised. “Incidentally, Randel, use an unmarked car today. I want you to check out some drug dealers. I’ll send you the information shortly.”
When we returned that evening for debriefing, Lieutenant Germain met us outside and asked, “All right, you two, where is all the stash?” Grumpy shuffled his feet hesitantly.
I confessed, “Lieutenant, it’s right here in my car. I have it all now.” Grumpy and I had moved things to my car earlier on break, thinking that someone might still want to check out the other vehicle.
“It’s right here? I thought so.” To my surprise, he used his own key to open my car door and he looked inside. “Hmm,” he said, “quite a bit of extra stuff here, Hawk. Do you need all of this? I can’t authorize all this equipment, but if you use it, you had better be able to justify why. If you use any weapon that is not approved by policy, be able to justify it. Be able to justify! If anyone asks me if I gave you permission to use non-approved weapons, the answer is ‘no’. I do not give you any approval for non-approved weapons. Is that understood? You know where I stand.”
Heck, we liked our lieutenant and we did not want to jeopardize him or his position. Sikes and I both would take any heat that anyone tried to apply to our lieutenant or to our sergeant. We liked and respected them both.
“Yes sir,” we replied in unison.
“Well,” began Germain, “let’s do our own little inventory.” I opened the trunk of my car. “Hell, we’re ready for war,” he commented. “Get things cleaned up, you hear!”
We showed him the bored-out grenade, a green military ammunition box full of mini-fourteen rounds, and the mini-fourteen gun that belonged to Sikes. There was a handgun that was Sam’s, Sam’s ice pick, several knives and a regular shotgun that belonged to me. Two machete’s, mine from Vietnam and Sikes’ also from Vietnam, our own K-Bar knives from the military, usually kept in our briefcases, another hand gun, rope, piggin’ strings and duct tape. They really frowned on duct tape because if it was used during a crime and if any was found in our possession at a scene, it was questionable whether or not we might have used it. Ultimately, there was a tarp, flashlight, emergency flashers, tow strap, tire tool, jack, two pairs of new tan, leather gloves, one pair of regular issue black gloves belonging to Sikes and one of my legal vests that I chose not use.
Grumpy never used his either. However, we insisted that all our rookies use their vest, as we were responsible for their safety. And last, there was my little green ditty bag with extra knives and small guns in the front of the vehicle. I did not keep anything under the seats; too hard to reach anything in an emergency. How come my ditty bag was back in the car when it wasn’t there earlier? I have to ponder this.
The lieutenant tossed me what I thought was the key to my vehicle and advised, “Officer Randel, return this key to the officers at the garage in the morning. They might be looking for it.” I looked quizzically at the lieutenant. “I borrowed it when I took out that other vehicle this morning moved yours and used the clean one as Sam’s. That’s also why I told you to use an unmarked for the day. See you fellows in the morning, bright and early for briefing. Have a good night.”
Well, I’ll be damned. Our lieutenant knew all along what Lt. Arnold and Douglas were up to, and he never let on to any of us. He checked out a clean vehicle, loaded it as he wanted it and showed that one to Arnold. The LT. was willing to take the rap for all of us if he had to. I hollered, “We love you, L. T.,” as he walked away.
We learned later that Lieutenant Arnold went sniveling to the Undersheriff with his report written in triplicate. Lieutenant Germain had already visited with Undersheriff Collins and told him our story. Lt. Germain passed on to Sikes and to me the gist of the conversation that Undersheriff Collins had with Arnold. “Randel and Sikes, your favorite lieutenant is now counting bullets. Undersheriff Collins said, ‘Lieutenant Arnold is that all that you have time to do? We’re short of manpower on the street with only one squad out there. What goes on in your head? You want to harass Lt. Germain’s squad and count weapons? Well, if you want to count weapons so bad Lt. Arnold, so be it. I’m assigning you to inventory all the weapons in the armory for the next week. You can also inventory every bullet. I want you there from eight to twelve. Then you will take your lunch. If I come to check and you are one minute late, you will answer to me. You’ll clock in and out and I will check the clock. Then you will work from one to five. I will also confirm with supply that they have not helped you. If you make any of them help, I will bury you. I already feel that your time at this station is limited. You may take Sergeant Douglas with you, if you choose, and you will be responsible for checking and inventorying each item twice, including bullets, to make sure that every supply weapon is there and correctly tagged and itemized. I will expect you to be at briefing and at debriefing, as usual every day. As for this report of yours, it’s horse hockey and I am putting all three copies through the shredder. Have I made myself clear?’” That should keep him out of our hair and out of our way for a little while.
The next morning, Undersheriff Collins dropped by briefing. “Officers,” he said, “there has been some talk about some of you carrying too many weapons. As I see it, you need to carry what you feel is appropriate for your safety in your area. I know that sometimes we cannot respond to back-up calls in less than fifteen to twenty minutes and that you may be out there alone. If you have to use your own weapons, be able to justify why you have them and why you were forced to use them. I do not condone the use of non-issued equipment and will say so if asked. However, more important than that, is that you come safely to debriefing everyday after your shift. I want each of you alive! There will be no further need to talk about this issue.”
Each of us in Lieutenant Germain’s squad turned in verbatim written and signed reports to Lt. Arnold, carefully chronicling the types of weapons that had been used since the inception of the department, and stating the current, appropriate weapons that were approved by the department. There was no legal number of weapons listed. We were grateful for a job well done and thanked the girls that did the research and the typing for us by sending them flowers and taking them to Red Robin’s for dinner.
Grumpy included in his report a rough draft that he had written, which would be sent to the Captain and to the Undersheriff if the lieutenant chose to write us up on any future weapons inquisition. Score one for Sikes. The rough draft was hot and spicy! It included something about 24/7 protocol for officers when they were either on or off duty. I can’t recall what all it said, something about partying, I believe, but Arnold never mentioned it again. Lt. (Benedict) Arnold, you may make a call for all our arms, but you will never disarm us all.