Broken Badges: Cases from Police Internal Affairs Files

by Lou Reiter

  Rose picked up the pile and followed the same procedure as the other two women did. Unlike the others, however, she only put one photo aside and pointed to it after she finished looking at the remaining photos. “Him! He bad cop!”

  It was Reynolds.

  Taylor knew he needed more specific information.

  “The officer who stopped you?”

  “Si. I driving late after work here in restaurant. Blue lights, don’t know why. He take license, then ask for green card. I start to cry. He say I do things he no report me to Immigration. If don’t, he take me to Green cops.”

  “Did you know what he meant by ‘do things’?”

  “Si. Sex. Same with some cops in Nicaragua.”

  “Rose, did he do it where he stopped you or did he take you someplace else?”

  “Someplace else. Followed him. Dark area behind big building.”

  “What kind of sex did he do?”

  Rose let her head drop with her chin now resting on her chest. She sat motionless. Taylor knew he would have to wrestle this part out of her.

  “Did he have intercourse with you?” She looked puzzled at the question. “Did he put his penis in you?”

  “Si. Si. Bad. Bad.”

  “In your vagina?” She again looked puzzled. “In your private parts, between your legs?”

  “Si.”

  “Did he use a condom, a rubber; protection?” She pondered the question, looked up briefly, and then again focused on her lap.

  “I think so. But where did it go? Don’t know.”

  “Did he put his penis anywhere else?”

  Rose pointed to her mouth.

  “Did he say anything you can remember? Something about you being from Nicaragua?”

  “Si. He call me Rose lots of times. He liked my breasts. Called them ‘Latin titties.’ I thought that funny. Got no clothes on and he points to my breasts! Strange, bad man.”

  Taylor figured it was pointless to continue the interview in this manner. He was able to convince Rose to allow him to snap a photograph of her for “identification purposes” and take a DNA swab. He promised that Officer Reynolds wouldn’t be able to get the photo and that he would not bother her anymore.

  *****

  Back at the police station, Taylor met with Chief Watkins and Captain Reeves in the chief’s office where he outlined the case, paying particular attention to its strengths and weaknesses.

  “I think we got Reynolds nailed on sexual misconduct. Whether we’ve got anything we can use criminally is problematic. All our victims would be a prosecutor’s nightmare. But we have plenty of physical evidence we can use to corroborate their stories—the DMV list, similarity of terms used, same location for two assaults, and the evidence of the used condoms. And, what I hope will be adequate DNA evidence taken from Anita’s blouse and the used condoms. We’ve got a lot to lay into Reynolds on the administrative violations. But, criminally all we got is hearsay. Nothing recorded, and all spoken with a lot of reluctance. What do you think about your boy Reynolds? You think he’ll cop out if we lay a criminal interrogation on him? Will he clam up if he’s Mirandized?”

  In criminal investigations, police officers have the same rights as any other citizen. The Fifth Amendment guarantees no one will be forced to give testimony against their self-interest. You can’t force or order a cop to answer questions if you’re conducting a criminal investigation into the cop’s actions. Administrative investigations are another matter. Cops, or any other public employee, can be ordered to answer questions if they are about job actions. The primary law, called Garrity by most police agencies, states questions must be “narrowly, directly and specifically related to the employee’s performance or ability to perform.” In California where Taylor was a cop, they referred to it as Lybarger Law. The Feds use a similar procedure, but call it Kalkines. It pretty much means a cop must cooperate with the investigation or can be fired for being insubordinate.

  The chief looked at Reeves and shrugged his shoulders. Taylor gathered this was a cue for Reeves to answer.

  “Marcus is basically a loner. Sticks to himself,” Reeves started. “I don’t know a lot about him personally. He comes to work. He gives us a few tickets and then makes an arrest here and there. Never had any complaints from the other guys about him not handling his calls. He seems to be one of those guys who simply fills a car. Until this came up, we didn’t have any problems with him. Not much good, either. This sex thing surprised me. I wouldn’t have expected it of him.”

  “I bet if you spent a little more time with the other guys on his shift, they would have been able to send you vibes,” Taylor said. He knew most officers recognized the skirt chasers easily enough. They may not point fingers at them, but they knew them.

  Taylor continued, “I think we need to go to the DA with this before we confront Reynolds. I don’t think the DA will prosecute with the weaknesses we’ve got, but they might be satisfied if we let them know Reynolds is going to be fired and reported to POST for decertification. I’m familiar with that State agency here in Illinois and know it has the authority to jerk a bad cop’s ticket or license! The DA might feel better knowing Reynolds won’t be a cop in Illinois after this. I’d like to see if we can get him to voluntarily give up his certification and sign an agreement indicating he won’t seek a cop job elsewhere. Otherwise he’ll probably surface in Missouri.”

  Both nodded.

  “Would you like to go with me to present the case to the DA?” Chief Watkins and Captain Reeves looked genuinely pleased that Taylor was asking to include them in this aspect of the case.

  At the District Attorney’s office, it went pretty much the way Taylor predicted it would. A prosecutor likes to have a sure thing lined up. He likes those big conviction rates and this often means not taking on difficult cases. Taylor knew the prosecutor was weighing the strength of the three female victims. All were reluctant to testify. They might not even show up considering their immigration status. A grand or trial jury, sensing the current feelings on immigration, might not like them either. Things had become hostile for illegals these days. As expected, the prosecutor liked the physical evidence, but the victim weaknesses were his big problem. He took a pass on the criminal case and gave the trio a declination memo.

  “Best thing about this is now we don’t have to worry about giving Reynolds a Miranda warning. We can just go after him on the administrative charges. It makes it a little cleaner for us,” Taylor acknowledged as the trio left the County Courthouse. “When is Reynolds supposed to be done with the training class you sent him to?”

  “Day after tomorrow, I think,” the chief said, turning to Reeves who nodded.

  “That’s good, let’s plan on bringing him in from training on Friday during the lunch break. I’d like both of you to be here when I confront him with the charges and give him the orders. I’ve got a couple other things I want to get in place as well.”

  *****

  Taylor arrived at the station early Friday morning. It was just turning eight but coffee was brewing. The chief’s secretary was ready for Taylor as he handed her a thumb drive and asked her to print out the contents. He then asked where the closest interview room to the chief’s office was located.

  The cubicle was typical of police interview rooms nationwide. A small table with three chairs. Taylor checked the mirror and knew it was a two-way so detectives could look in on an interview in progress. Sometimes the room was used for victim and witness line-up reviews. The small dark glass half cylinder in the corner of the ceiling indicated that the room was wired for videotaping and audio recording, but Taylor still liked to use a digital tape recorder for his interviews. It was easier to use and could be downloaded to a computer or e-mailed to a court reporting service for transcription. Taylor moved the chairs into the hallway. He pushed the table into one of the corners.

  “Taylor, what the shit you been doing to my station? Remodeling?” Chief Watkins teased as he walked in from the station parking lot
.

  “Just getting prepared for Officer Reynolds, boss,” Taylor replied. “Is Reeves in yet?”

  “Couple of minutes. He stopped off at Starbucks. He needs that latte with the double espresso. New guys, you know.”

  Taylor and Chief Watkins talked about old days in police work, before car cameras, computers, personal data devices, and DNA. Maybe not such good old days, after all. Better products and techniques were now available to capture the bad guys, but cops still faced the same old, same old policing problems. Drunks, domestics, dumb bad guys. Cops doing stupid things. Not enough salary to live on and raise a family in the old days. Today with overtime and paid details, some cops have way too much money. Yet another way to get into trouble. Small talk went on for ten minutes, there was no sense talking about the case and then having to repeat it. Captain Reeves finally appeared and took the empty chair. The secretary brought in a thick folder with the thumb drive and gave them to Taylor. He returned a smile and nod. Taylor left the room for a few minutes to finalize his plan.

  “Let me tell you what I think should go down this morning. We know the DA isn’t going to prosecute Reynolds, but we have more than enough to terminate him. It’s more than enough to get the State to jerk his certification, too. But we need to think beyond that. Can we get him to agree to voluntarily quit and sign an agreement not to serve as a police officer in any state? We really don’t need to interview him today. Who cares what drove him to commit these acts? I’m planning on pressing him hard when he comes in. Let him see the entire case. We’ve got to follow your collective bargaining agreement and the Illinois Police Officers’ Bill of Rights to the letter. Due process stuff. But Reynolds can still resign. We don’t have to accept it, but resignation would end your problem, boss.”

  “Taylor, why go through these motions? Why can’t I just fire the scumbag?”

  “You gave that up to the unions, boss. And, your employees still deserve their personnel rights. There are too many police managers who would gladly step on the cops in the trenches. Good officers need protection from bad bosses and the political whims of elected officials. Don’t worry; we got all the cards in this game. We just have to play by reasonable rules. We don’t need to abuse employees to make the system work. They have to cooperate with us. If they don’t, they get fired for insubordination. We can control the process if we follow the rules. If we don’t, even guilty officers will beat your ass and get their jobs back. You can’t let that happen by jumping the gun and acting precipitously.”

  They discussed what Taylor’s plan was. He asked that all three be a part of it. He wanted Captain Reeves to act as backup. Reynolds would be armed. There was always a chance an accused cop might do something dangerous. It rarely occurred, but more than once a police supervisor was killed by an officer being charged with serious misconduct.

  At noon Officer Reynolds was announced by the secretary as he cooled his heels in the hallway. She told him to go right in as Chief Watkins was waiting. Marcus Reynolds nodded to Chief Watkins and Captain Reeves. He was in soft clothes—jeans, tee shirt, and a light jacket. His badge was on a lanyard hanging around his neck. He had just come from training. He looked at Taylor questioningly.

  “Who’s this guy, Chief?”

  “His name is Taylor Sterling. He’s a retired cop from the West Coast. He’s working for the Muni Risk Insurance Pool. I’ve asked the Pool and Taylor to help me, Marcus.”

  Taylor put out his hand, but Reynolds ignored it.

  “Chief, you were always okay with me. Pretty much let me do things my way. What’s going on? This looks and feels serious.”

  Taylor walked to the open doorway and motioned for Reynolds to follow him to the interview room. Chief Watkins walked next to Reynolds while Reeves brought up the rear. Taylor opened the interview door and motioned for Reynolds to enter. On the table in the corner were the items Taylor had organized. There were three 5x7 photos of Anita, Sylvia, and Rose. There were 8x10 photos of Anita’s colorful blouse, a view of the chain link fence behind the vacant warehouse, numerous evidence placards, and one detailed shot showing a used condom. The stack of officer photographs were bound together by a rubber band with Reynolds’ face shot on top. Pages from the DMV listings, some highlighted in yellow, added to the display. Another closed file folder perched on the edge of the table.

  By this time all four were in the interview room. Taylor noticed Reeves stayed in the doorway. His holster was empty. Taylor saw his right hand was placed behind his thigh. He assumed Captain Reeves had his service weapon in the ready, hidden from view.

  Officer Marcus Reynolds stood motionless. Taylor moved to his left so he could watch his reaction. He watched Reynolds’ eyes move slowly over the material on the table. It went back to the larger photographs. His face showed no change or emotion.

  Taylor reached over the table and grabbed the closed folder. He pulled out several pages of documents.

  “Officer Marcus Reynolds? I’m working as an agent for Chief Watkins. These are administrative charges alleging you violated departmental policy regarding sexual misconduct on three victims and used the law enforcement data terminal for personal reasons. You have the right under your union contract and State Bill of Rights to have a representative with you before you are questioned. That questioning is scheduled for Monday at ten in the morning. Do you understand what I’ve just told you?”

  “Are you arresting me?”

  “No, the DA, at this time, has decided not to bring criminal charges.”

  Taylor slowly enunciated at this time and noticed Marcus looked somewhat perplexed. He looked at the items on the table and then back at Taylor, “What do you mean ‘at this time’?”

  Taylor knew what was going through Marcus’ mind. He was probably thinking that they got me on these three, but what if others he had abused came out of the woodwork?

  “Marcus, Chief Watkins is also placing you on administrative leave with pay pending the outcome of this investigation. We need your badge, ID, and gun.”

  “My department gun is in my locker. This here is my personal gun,” he said as he slid the lanyard off his neck. He reached into his rear pocket. Captain Reeves bladed slightly, allowing him to position himself in a steady stance should he need to engage Marcus with his hidden handgun clutched against his leg, but Marcus pulled out his wallet and took out his ID card, placing it on the table with his badge.

  “I need you to sign this administrative no-contact order, Marcus. You are being ordered to have no contact with these women. You understand that? No contact or attempt at contact, even through a third party. You understand that?”

  “Fuck you! I don’t have to sign anything!”

  “No, you don’t, but you’ve been ordered to do so. It’s on the tape recorder on the table. Marcus, I will also need your cell phone.”

  “Fuck you! The phone’s my own property. You can’t get it without a warrant! I know the law.”

  “Marcus, this isn’t a criminal investigation. It’s administrative. The policy manual says anything you bring onto police department property or use in connection with police business is subject to review during any administrative investigation.”

  “Fuck you! I’m not giving my phone to you.”

  “Marcus, you realize that’s insubordination? That’s just another charge on you. Oh, and I need to get a DNA swab from you, too.”

  “Fuck you!”

  It was the last thing Marcus said as he turned, pushed Captain Reeves aside, and headed for the exit door.

  Reeves began to reach out, but he saw Taylor shake his head indicating, Lay off.

  Taylor said with a sigh, “Well, at least he didn’t try to shoot us. This is not the way I thought this would end. I thought Reynolds would take the easy way out and resign. We really didn’t need the cell phone, but I thought it would be one more thing to push him into resigning. I was…”

  Taylor was cut short as a young officer ran down the hallway yelling, “Chief, parking lot, NOW!�
��

  They all raced outside past the parked police cars to the area where employees parked their personal cars. Four or five officers huddled around a black Ford F150 pickup truck.

  Suicide is an act of desperation. People are really intent on killing themselves when they put a gun in their mouth and pull the trigger. The projectile, particularly a police hollow point, enters the head through facial bones, then rips open the cranial bone, tears through the brain, and exits the skull with a much larger hole than the circumference of the bullet. The blast inside a car sends bone fragments and brain matter upwards, splattering the headliner and coating it with thick coagulating blood.

  When Taylor, Chief Watkins, and Captain Reeves arrived at the pickup, the odor of burnt gunpowder still hung in the air. Brain matter rained in blobs from the headliner onto what once was Officer Marcus Reynolds.

  CHAPTER 2:

  COLORADO ADVENTURE

  Complainant: Chief Clyde Adams

  Allegation: Public corruption

  Assignment: Reinvestigation of officer-involved shooting

  Agency: Juanita Springs, Colorado

  Blue strobe lights cascaded down the car’s interior, flashes bouncing erratically between the headliner and windshield. Taylor instinctively looked down at the speedometer. Still parked at 40. He was quick to notice the speed limit sign as he passed the ornately carved marker signaling he was entering the city limits of Juanita Springs. Taylor knew many small towns dotting Highway 50 between Montrose and Gunnison were pegged as speed traps so he kept his foot light, knowing the bright yellow Porsche 911 would be a magnet for cops.

  In a moment of weakness, Taylor had agreed to meet with the county attorney in Grand Junction to discuss a case. Grand Junction was over 400 miles from his home in Santa Fe. With mediocre airports in both Santa Fe and Grand Junction, it would take about the same time to drive the distance than it would take to wait for wings.

  The winding road took Taylor through beautiful mountain country and, since it was late September, he hoped the aspens might be starting to color, if the last couple years of drought and blight hadn’t screwed with Mother Nature.