Today was a great day at work. I got in at about the usual time, sat down at my desk, and began my normal work. There was a stack of old warrants that needed going through, both to check the defendants for other convictions and to suspend their licenses. But that daily routine was broken when the unit's Corporal* stuck his head in with a look of urgency on his face.
"Hendrix!" he bellowed, "Let's roll!"
Of course, he was mostly joking around. He'd already agreed yesterday to take me down to Central Processing and show me what goes on there. Essentially, when someone is taken into custody, they're moved to Central Processing, where they are prepped to go before a Police Commissioner (a sort of half-cop, half-judge who sets bail and assesses flight risk). For today, we were taking people who were turning themselves in (by policy, they have to be brought into CPU by an officer; no one is allowed to Go Directly To Jail).
So after a short ride over to the Rockville Station, we were ready to take our first defendant** into custody. He was wanted for FTA (failure to appear in court) over a drunk driving accident. He'd been in contact with the Cpl. for about a month, who had given him time to turn himself in on his own terms. He'd wanted to postpone the process until after his first child was born, and now that she had, he'd scheduled to turn himself.
The baby, by the way, was quite adorable, and had accompanied her mother in dropping off her father at the station. We waited until they were out of sight to handcuff the defendant, search him, and drive him up to CPU. Two codes are required to enter the main building; one to get past the razor-wire fence and one to get into the building proper.
Once inside, the Cpl. checked his gun into a locker (firearms are generally kept out of reach of inmates) and lead the defendant to a small room, where we filled out paperwork transfering him into the custody of the Department of Corrections. Meanwhile, a DOC employee photographed and re-searched him, placing all personal effects and shoes into plastic bags, which would be returned upon his release. We dropped the paperwork at a nearby desk, where the staffer entered its information into the system and filed the papers. After that, the defendant was officially 'their problem'.
The entire process took about a half hour. Throughout the whole thing, the mood was light, but procedure was followed strictly, or at least consistently. Joking with the defendant was interspersed with sharp commands: "Hands on the wall," "Sit down and take off your shoes," etc.
We then returned to the station and handled two other defendants, both female. The first was a young woman, attractive, except for the cocaine-thinness and smoker's wrinkles. She was wanted for Grand Larceny, and was turning herself in at the insistence of her mother and uncle. As a criminal case (the previous was just a traffic case), this one took a bit longer; fingerprinting and DNA swabs also had to be taken, but overall the process was the same.
The last defendant of the day was a habitual drug user, who had been dropped off by her rehab group to turn herself in for two warrants. The first was a fairly vanilla possession charge (non-marijuana; probably crack or heroine, given the needle-marks). The second was for shoplifting from a K-Mart, attempting to escape, and second-degree assault once cornered.
The defendant was clearly emotional through the entire process. She displayed signs of paranoia, repeatedly requesting to keep a list of phone numbers in the belief she would not be given back her possesions upon release. She also insisted the Cpl. remove the "Escape Risk" caution notice from the transfer sheet, stating that she had only stood up, and had accidentally scratched the arresting officer with her nails when grabbed. The Cpl. assured her he'd see about removing the caution; Commisioner consider all factors when assigning bail, and escape risks tend to recieve higher amounts.
On the ride to CPU, the Cpl. asked her, "So why're you back here again, huh?" She replied that she was trying to make this her last time, to get a clean start. There was a tangible pause.
"Stop doing crack, would help," he suggested, monotone. She said she was trying.
Processing was essentially the same as before, except that the woman was obviously familiar with the system, and the employees were obviously familiar with her. When we turned over the paperwork, the desk staffer commented that the defendant had been in there multiple times before.
After that, we were done for the day. As we rode back to Headquarters, the Cpl. asked me if I felt like I'd learned anything. I replied that I had, and he nodded, and then said something I almost couldn't believe.
"Yeah, that last one especially. Some people are total shit."
Older police officers often become embittered and detached from their work, both because it becomes routine and because they do not see tangible positive effects from their caring. For this reason, I won't be too hard on the Cpl. For my own part, however, his statement is fundamentally wrong, at a purely logical level.
People are not shit. People are people. All of them.
And maybe this woman isn't sincere in her attempt to reform her life. More likely, she is, but will fail anyway, due to a combination of societal pressure, gnawing addiction, and plain old force of habit. It is fully possible that she is beyond any sort of redemption that I could offer her.
But she's still a person.
One day, maybe I'll be as jaded and cynical as the Corporal. I hope not, but as much as I'd like to think I'm better than that I know I'm not. For the most part, I hope I can keep some perspective on the matter, maintain a youthful idealism, and manage to care about everyone I work with. Ultimately, that's what has an effect on people.
...
*The Corporal ranks just below a Sergeant, and is thus the second-in-command in our unit. I've intentionally avoided using his name, because cops in general hate it when people use their names, and also because this might not be totally flattering. To be fair, the Corporal is easily the most fun guy in the unit, is exceedingly friendly, and has been incredibly patient with me as an intern.
**The term 'defendant' is used basically to the exclusion of everything else in my unit, rather than terms like 'perp' or 'suspect'. This is because of the subtle distinction between the meanings of these words. A 'suspect' is any peron who is believed to have committed a crime, but has not been found guilty by a judge. A 'defendant' is someone who is the subject of a criminal trial (or traffic, I presume), and because I work with warrants, all the people I deal with are defendants. A 'perp', or perpetrator, is the hypothetical person who has committed a crime, and is properly used only in a theoretical sense. Thus, investigators may look for clues left by the perp, but the person they believe committed the crime is their suspect.
Next Time: The F-22 & The War on War
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