Broken Badges: Cases from Police Internal Affairs Files

by Lou Reiter

  Daphne’s last police chief, who’d been on the job for all of 14 months, had just left for policing a town in Florida. Three chiefs in four years wasn’t a good sign, but Craig needed a job until something better came along. He was tired of steamy Alabama, but hadn’t thought of other places to settle. Hell, he wasn’t ready to leave Birmingham so early, but was really glad he had his 20 years in for a solid retirement.

  Daphne didn’t want a full time Chief of Police. They were looking for someone to fill in for a few months until their chosen golden boy finished the Southern Police Institute Command School in Lexington.

  The interim position was a good fit for Craig. He got a line on his resume showing he had owned the position of Chief of Police. He told Sarah, his wife, to stay put in Birmingham and rented a room at the local Residence Inn on Mobile Bay. This would do just fine for a few months.

  *****

  While keeping the seat warm in Daphne, Craig scoured the job listings for Chief of Police positions. He kept his fingers busy calling his NA buddies and their extended list of buddies. He was pleased he was able to access information offered at PERF, Police Executive Research Forum. His resumes were quickly spread across the country, but calls for interviews weren’t happening.

  One afternoon Craig hesitantly opened a letter postmarked Wisconsin. The City of Addisonville was interested in talking with him. Where the hell was Addisonville?

  “Madam Mayor, this is Craig Connor calling from Alabama. Thanks for taking my call.”

  “Chief Connor, I’m glad to hear from you. We’ve narrowed our list to three applicants for the chief’s position, including you.”

  They talked for over an hour. Craig liked the mayor’s voice and ideas. She was a progressive woman interested in his community-oriented approach to policing. Mayor Shirley Grants was in her second four-year term. The current chief had gotten involved in an extramarital affair with his secretary and left town in disgrace. Mayor Grants was looking for someone outside the Addisonville agency. Truth be told, she was really looking for a candidate with no ties to Addisonville or Wisconsin, but she seemed worried that Craig was from the Deep South. That fact might not be appreciated by her older constituents with family histories stemming back to the immigrant days when Scandinavian and German families settled in Wisconsin. Mayor Grants wanted to interview all job seekers personally to ensure a good fit. Could Craig come up within the next week or so? Of course he could!

  “Wisconsin?” Sarah asked hesitantly.

  “Cows. Cheese. The Packers.”

  “And snow. When was the last time you were anywhere where it snowed and the temps fell below zero on top of that? Remember the movie Fargo? What’s a redneck, bubba gonna do in Wisconsin, of all places?”

  She had a point, but Craig was interested in breaking out of Alabama. He figured he could trade Alabama’s Crimson Tide red for Wisconsin’s Badgers red. At least their kids wouldn’t be a problem. One son was living in California and the other son had recently taken a job in the Chicago area. That was certainly closer than Birmingham was.

  The Addisonville PD numbered about a hundred cops. That was a good number. Big enough to do good work, but small enough to know everybody. The fact that the town was situated next door to Madison and the state university meant it probably had a little culture and things to do on the weekends.

  Three months later, Craig was sworn in as the 24th Chief of Police of Addisonville, Wisconsin.

  “Chief Connor, you related to Bull Connor?” asked the FOP president. In police agencies there are three principal employee unions—the Fraternal Order of Police, Police Benevolent Association, and then the local non-affiliated union. Craig shook his head; it was easier than the usual long-winded explanation.

  “You being from the South, you don’t have much police union experience, do you?”

  Craig knew unions would be something different for him to handle. The South was a right-to-work part of the country. Unions were few and far between, particularly in Alabama. Craig had never worked in a union cop shop. He didn’t have much experience dealing with public employee unions either. He figured if he treated union members fairly, they would do the same.

  “Chief, here in Wisconsin we’re solid union. You can’t do much without our okay. Think of us as part of your management team. If we don’t like something, you ain’t gonna be able to do shit,” Detective Clyde Parks announced flatly. “We got two more years going on our contract and we’re gearing up for the next round of negotiations. Of course, we want more bennies so expect that!”

  “What’s this I been hearin’ about the governor abolishing unions? Or at least their right to bargain and make contracts?”

  “Politics. Bullshit, politics, that’s all it is. After the governor wins reelection, it’ll be back to normal. But, can’t say I’m not worried. They keep nibbling away at public sentiment.”

  *****

  Shortly after arriving in Addisonville and being officially sworn in, Craig made his initial contact with Sheriff Biggs. They were scheduled to meet the following week for a long lunch at the local country club where the sheriff held an honorary membership. As Craig was preparing to meet Biggs, there was a soft knock on his door. “Come in,” he welcomed.

  His guest was wearing a knee-length tan skirt, red sweater, and low-heeled shoes. She had perfectly coiffed, but noticeably bouffant, blond hair reaching her shoulders. She was wearing minimum jewelry, just a simple chain around her neck dangling a small diamond brooch. Her make-up matched her simple look.

  “Chief Connor, hope I’m not bothering you. I wanted to introduce myself as soon as possible.”

  Craig wasn’t certain what was coming next. He didn’t think she was one of his employees and was surprised she didn’t identify herself further. He rose and motioned for her to take a seat near his desk.

  “My name is Susan LeBlanc. Has anyone told you about me?” Craig shook his head, but recalled an employee had the last name of LeBlanc.

  The woman shifted in her chair, momentarily looked at her hands settled in her lap, and then looked up, fixing a solid stare at Craig. “On your employee roster I’m listed as Steven LeBlanc.” Craig was confused.

  “I’m in the process of being medically changed from a male to a female.” Now Craig was really confused.

  “As part of my sex change, I’m required to live as a woman for one year. I’ve been in the clinic medical program for only one month. I haven’t brought it to the job yet since there was a period of change between the former chief resigning and your arrival to take his place. You’ll need to make accommodations for me during my work schedule, Chief Connor.”

  Stunned, Craig was confronting an employee issue he had never encountered, let alone heard about. Why would a police department have to make accommodations for something like this? Changing one’s sex wasn’t a disability issue, he figured. He wondered what accommodations this Steven or Susan, or whatever he, she, or it was, had in mind.

  “Does anyone know about this, Susan or Steven? What should I call you?”

  “Whatever you like, Chief Connor. Maybe Officer LeBlanc would be a good compromise for you. The city personnel director and Mayor Grants are aware of my situation and said they would be happy to help you make sure you don’t step on my rights.”

  “You telling me you’re gonna be going out on patrol like this?”

  “No, no, not yet, but later maybe. We’re allowed to break into our new lifestyle slowly. Right now I need to be able to come to work dressed like this, change in the female locker room, and use the women’s bathroom when on duty. I’ll be Steven when I’m in uniform, but Susan as I arrive and leave my tour of duty.”

  “You know, er, Officer LeBlanc, this is something totally new for me. I don’t know what to say. I’m gonna need to talk with the personnel director. You understand my initial concern, don’t you? What’s this gonna do with the troops?”

  She smiled and said, “Chief you aren’t in ‘Bama anymore! You got two cr
oss-dressers on staff. You got a whole crew of lesbians, both dykes and lipsticks, and some who haven’t made up their minds yet. You got at least four, that I know for sure, officers who are gay. Hell, you’ve got several who are regulars down at the Swamp. That’s our local S and M club. Most of the rest of your crew are straight, old, cock-hound, skirt chasers.” She relaxed into her chair, studying Craig to catch his reaction.

  “We got anybody, anybody, who’s married with kids, owns a house with a white picket fence, and goes to church on Sundays?” Craig sputtered. She looked at him with a glare and then burst out laughing.

  Craig found Sheriff Biggs at a table by the window of the country club overlooking the 18th green. Both men were in uniform. Biggs had a small circle of five stars on his collar. Craig hadn’t seen that insignia since his days of reading WWII books and seeing pictures of Eisenhower and MacArthur. The sheriff had what looked to be a full glass of whiskey standing in front of him.

  “Want a drink, Chief? Imagine not, what with you being new on the job, huh? Wouldn’t look right. Well, I’m in my third year of my fourth term. Got nearly 70 percent last time. You, on the other hand, got to wonder if you got three of the five council members on your side every single day. Politics, I love it! Say, you related to that Bull Connor guy?”

  Craig and Biggs spent nearly the entire afternoon talking and watching golfers miss easy putts. Craig liked Biggs. No bullshit, straight to the point. Biggs liked Craig in return. Biggs expected the new chief would be a brainy, stuffed shirt. Biggs laughed out loud when Craig told him about his conversation with LeBlanc.

  “Hell, Craig, got two of them on board myself. Another one who’s already had the full sex change operation. Hey, it improved my EEOC ratio. They do their job just fine so I don’t mind their fucked up personal lives. It does intrigue me, though. Ever thought what they must have to go through? Shit, I can’t. I should alert you to something involving one of your people. One of your new coppers—Betsy McKnight.”

  Craig wondered what was so significant about this officer and began imagining the worst.

  “Nice looking little lady cop. Used to be a deputy in my shop. I’ve got myself a lieutenant who’s in love or lust with her. Well, she came over to your shop to be with her new lover, one of your lady, and I say this advisedly, sergeants.”

  Craig wondered whether this parade of weirdness would ever end. It certainly wasn’t Alabama, or at least the Alabama he knew. Maybe there was a whole world out there he knew nothing about, not that he wanted to be a part of it.

  Biggs continued. “I’ve tried to talk some sense into him, but he’s just thinking with his dick these days. You know the type, Craig.” Craig nodded. “You probably should have a talk with her as well. These triangles and broken love affairs can get out of hand if you don’t keep on top of them.”

  *****

  “Hey, Lieutenant Hansen, you look down, boss.”

  Luke Hansen was walking by the intake office. He was lost in thought and it took him a few moments to register Carl Lundgren’s comment.

  “Huh? What’s that, Carl?”

  “You look down, boss. What’s so heavy on your mind?”

  “Bits, I guess.”

  “Miss her, huh? She sure was nice to look at.” Hansen stared at him. Carl stammered his retort. “I mean she was pretty fine. You must miss that. Heard you were banging her regular.”

  “Fuck you, asshole. I loved her. You wouldn’t know anything about that. If it’s not a gun, you can’t get your rocks off. Asshole!”

  “Heard she’s the main squeeze for one of those lesbian sergeants at the city. Guess a guy can’t compete with that. They can strap on any size and color cock they want and have at it. Even the little blue pill can’t compete with that action!”

  Luke glared at Carl and flipped him the finger as he stormed off. Cops are miserable bastards, he thought. Last week his mailbox at the sheriff’s office was stuffed with lesbian porno magazines. Some asshole had taped a picture of a lesbian sex orgy on his locker door. When Luke got home from the gym and opened his gym bag he found a dildo staring back at him. Often he found himself driving by Betsy’s new digs on his way home. It was a long convoluted detour, but he couldn’t help it. Luke wondered what he’d do if he saw either Bits or G standing outside their home. Probably just drive off and try to hide. His reaction to the breakup with Bits surprised him. Before that sorry episode he was always in control and was able to keep his emotions in check. But now, things were different. He didn’t like this new feeling that now consumed him.

  *****

  Craig Connor couldn’t sleep and tossed and turned for hours. Living in a motel for the past three weeks was wearing on him, but he knew it would soon be over. He decided to rent a condo for Sarah and him to live in rather than buy a house. He wasn’t sure if he liked Addisonville, let alone Wisconsin. Sarah had been up for a long weekend. It was a good visit at a good time of the year. There were county festivals going on and the annual fair in Madison held between the two lakes that surrounded the city was the highlight of her stay. When winter slithered out, locals couldn’t get enough of the sunshine. Sarah seemed to enjoy herself and liked the town and people she met.

  “Dispatch, Chief Connor here. Can you have a sergeant meet me in the station parking lot?”

  “10-4, Unit One.”

  It was two in the morning. Craig saw the headlights of the approaching police car as it edged into the lot and circled to search for him. He gestured with a casual wave. The driver stopped and started to get out, but Craig motioned her to stay in the car. He went to the passenger’s side, opened the door, and realized the passenger’s seat was filled with the sergeant’s personal stuff.

  “Can I put this in the back or in the trunk?”

  The driver motioned to the trunk and he heard the latch pop. After vacating the pile of stuff, Craig found it awkward getting into the passenger seat. This newer police car was a Chevy and had been downsized from the old Crown Vics. The jammed center console was filled with radio and computer gear making it an exceptionally tight fit. Craig had to slide under the computer bracket to find an acceptable position. He extended his hand.

  “Craig. Craig Connor.”

  “People call me G, Chief. Where we going?”

  “Just riding. I’ve always done that with my officers, even when I was one of the majors. Keeps me tuned into what the field is like. Of course, this place is all new to me.”

  G looked at him quizzically. She didn’t know much about this new guy in charge. Oh, a bunch of the cops dialed down to Alabama to find out about Connor, and some searched the Internet for dirt. Nothing surfaced about this new chief. Those contacted and knew him said he was a straight up guy who kept his nose out of local politics. What was interesting was that nobody badmouthed him. Cops are real quick to talk ugly about another cop, particularly a command officer. Allegiance usually stops at the sergeant rank. After that level, everyone is just another “suit.” G decided to keep quiet for now and complete her normal rounds.

  “Chief, I’m gonna stop that car ahead.”

  “What you got?”

  “Came out of that alley back there. There are a lot of small fix-it places in that location. They get hit pretty regular. They’re robbed of tools, petty cash, and sometimes a gun. None of the businesses have great security.”

  G waited until the suspect Ford turned onto a well-lit four lane road before she accelerated. She radioed in the stop and tag number. When dispatch acknowledged, she hit the blue strobes and high intensity takedown lights. The takedown lights lit up the entire interior of the cop car. If either of the two inside the suspect getaway car looked back, all they’d see would be flashing strobes.

  G exited and slowly approached the driver’s side of the Ford. She stopped first at the trunk and pushed down, making sure it was closed. Craig slid out from under the computer and stayed behind the open door. G approached the driver’s door and was focusing her Streamlight on the driver. Suddenly she
took a step back and drew her weapon.

  “Both of you, put your hands on the dash and spread your fingers! Now!” she shouted.

  Craig fumbled inside his jacket and pulled his .40 caliber Glock. He moved silently to his right, heading diagonally to the right side of the stopped car. He didn’t have a flashlight with him. Asshole! What a stupid thing to forget my flashlight!

  “Driver,” G barked. “With your left hand turn off the car, pull the keys out, and drop them on the ground. Passenger, keep your hands steady on that dash. My partner has you covered.”

  Craig could see the passenger try to look back. He couldn’t see anything with the takedown lights streaming in the car. He saw G mumble into the mic secured on her shoulder.

  “Driver, with your left hand, reach outside and unlock the door. Now slowly push it open with your foot. Put both hands on top of your head. Now get out, slowly. Don’t look at me! Slowly turn around. Stop! Now walk backward toward my voice. Now kneel down. Slowly let yourself down on your stomach and stretch your arms out to your sides with palms up.”

  The passenger was squirming in his seat trying to look to the right and the left. He suddenly dropped his right hand out of sight.

  “Buddy, you better put that hand back up on the dash right now!” Craig commanded in a loud voice. “Bubba, you want to git shot?”

  The hand jolted back to the dash. Craig took over and gave the standard lay-down command to the passenger. By the time the guy was on the ground next to the driver, two police units arrived on the scene.

  “G, what you got?” asked Betsy McKnight.

  “Gun between the front seats. Just saw the butt before he pushed it down.”

  “Who’s that?” Betsy asked.

  “The new Chief of Police, dummy!” G replied.

  Betsy looked at Craig and then back at G. She smiled and gave Craig a quick salute. G had the two units finish searching the arrestees. G told them to take the perps back to the station and told the officers to put them in the holding cell until she returned. G planned to handle the impound and the search of the car to keep the chain of custody simple.