28 October 2010

The Great Jewel Theft Caper- Part II

This is not the actual car used by the suspect in this story


From the Cop side: Ok, you all know how I love keeping you in suspense….so here’s Part II.

Caveat: As most of you who’ve worked in law enforcement or the military know, your memory of things sometimes gets fuzzy with years…but these stories are to my best recollection of the events. I do leave out names etc to protect the innocent and to avoid law suits.

As you recall, Officer Baby Feet had just gotten behind the Fat Jewel Bastard (FJB) when FJB accelerated the 64’ Lincoln and started running red traffic lights and driving up on sidewalks and shit… So Baby Feet now had a duty to stop this insane driver before somebody was hurt.

Baby Feet called out what was going on over his radio…(keep in mind, between all the different little police departments, we were all on different frequencies!) We did have a “common” radio freq we could all go to. In those days the old Motorola Radios we had only had 4 channels. They were not like the new digital radios we now have that have 16 zones with 12 channels on each zone (do the math….what’s that add up to?)

So, Baby Feet switched to the common channel and so did I as he called out: “We’re eastbound approaching the Freeway at 60 MPH. 004 are you behind me yet?” (I was 004.)

I got on the radio to Baby Feet, who’s call sign was: “ L 2” and told him I was about a quarter mile behind a set of police lights…which I assumed were his.

I kicked the old Doge in the ass and got it up to 80 MPH and was able to slip through traffic to the Freeway….as the police car that was about a quarter mile in front of me was pulling away…I never did see the suspect’s 1964 Lincoln as I hit the freeway southbound heading towards San Francisco.

Now as I rolled out onto the Freeway, I automatically did a self check of both me and the car I was driving. I was breathing OK, focused on the task…all good. But the POS (Piece Of Shit) car I had was not getting up to the speed I needed. The suspension was good, not bouncing…and the breaks were new, the tires were fair…the steering was good…but I just couldn’t get the damn thing to go any faster….I had a nice open freeway…but the Dodge would not move any faster….as Baby Feet called out his speed: “I’m doing 95 and he’s pulling away…we’re southbound passing the Big Hill exit (the name was changed to protect the innocent).

At this point, I was pushing the gas pedal down with all my might…I was wondering if the floor mat had gotten in the way or something then I remembered I’d already taken the mat out. What else could I do to gain some speed? Start throwing un-needed equipment and passengers overboard? Start talking nice to my car? Nothing was working…. Then the speedometer stated to very so slowly move up a little higher….86-87-88---88---89---89…come on baby a little faster….89----oh crap now I’m coming to a hill….88---87---86….. over the top of the hill and all I could see was the red & blue lights of the police car ahead of me still pulling away….

Then Baby Feet called in again his speed, location…still southbound heading towards San Francisco…

I was really hoping we didn’t actually make it to the Golden Gate Bridge because I heard rumors that the toll collectors actually stop police cars in pursuit and expect them to pay the toll.

Then Baby Feet called in that the Suspect’s Lincoln was slowing down and moving from the #1 lane (fast lane on the left) to the # 4 lane (slow lane on the right) and almost hit a few cars in the maneuver. Then the suspect actually put on his turn signal and stated to take the next off ramp.

The problem was, there was one off ramp just before the one the suspect was taking that did not have a name---we called it the No Name Off Ramp. The Suspect and Baby Feet took the exit south of No Name and by this point I noticed I had another law enforcement patrol car behind mine---which looked like a county deputy but I couldn’t focus long enough on the review mirror to be sure…but I knew it was some kind of cop behind me….

So, I took the No Name Exit…and realized I made a mistake (soon to learn it was actually the best thing I could have done…I just didn’t know it yet.) So, as I take the exit, I hear Baby feet calling out that he was now behind the suspect who was now heading north along the frontage road and about70 MPH…with lots of daytime traffic in this next little town (lets call it Mayberry 5.)  They were north bound heading towards us--going south bound..and a closing rate of about the speed of light.

Then…bad news…Baby Feet called out that the suspect vehicle had crashed into a car with a mom and a bunch of kids…the car mom was driving was smashed badly and the suspect’s Lincoln had major front end damage and a flat left front tire…but still moving north bound…now a little slower. With sparks coming out from under the car.

About this time, I realized I had not been behind Baby Feet, but another cop who never called out on the radio…and a deputy behind me who had also not called out what he was doing. I was the only one who was “right” since I had called in what I was doing. Oh well, not my problem, we now had four different law enforcement agencies involved in the chase and we had driven through a few other agencies jurisdiction and were now in another department’s area. Dang it was all so confusing….but exciting.

Then I look down the frontage road and see what was left of a tan 1964 Lincoln Continental coming at us with major front end damage, a flat left front tire and steam coming from under the hood. It wasn’t going to go far. So, I just stopped my patrol car in the street and the cop in front of me and behind me blocked the road.

The Fat Jewel Bastard came to a stop once he saw he wasn’t going to get past us (we also had our pistols pointing at his fat ass). So, being that he realized there was no way out, he came to a stop.

One of the cops starts yelling at him in a rather unfriendly way (something like get your fucking hands up or I’m going to blow your fucking brains out) and the Fat Bastard actually started to complain. He said: “you don’t have to talk to me like that.”

I looked at him, pointed my Colt 1911 .45 (with 8 185 Grain Jacketed Hollow Points) auto at him and said in a very clear and professional manner: “If you don’t show me your hands, I’m going to shoot you.”

He showed me his empty hands.

Well, Baby Feet called me and said that one of the kids in the car had a small cut from broken glass, but other than that, the folks in the victim car were OK. However, since the Fat Jewel Bastard had left the scene of an accident with injuries---that made it another felony. Forget the about the jewels he had stolen (and still had in the car with him) he had hurt innocent people.

Since he was sooooo fat, the handcuffs were very tight on his fat wrist. He was very uncomfortable all the way to jail. The really sad part of this story was a very nice and clean Lincoln was destroyed in this incident. I only had to write a one page report, Baby Feet got credited with another great arrest and the Fat Jewel Bastard went to jail.

13 comments:

TheNewMagoo said...

Loved the pacing of this tale, i realised by the end i was actually holding my breath - will they catch him? Will the family in the other car be ok? Will anyone get shot?

Yay, happily-ever-after all round!

CI-Roller Dude said...

T NM, you see it's from watching cops on TV...everybody thinks we have it all solved in 60 minutes. We really hate shooting people...it's a lot of paper and they end up taking our guns away for ballistics test and stuff.

Anonymous said...

1. Another great story.
2. Much like the ones my police officer friends tell.
3. Just a little light on the stupid stuff we "civilians" do.
v/r JWest

lorraine said...

Very exciting story. Our small NE of Sac town seems to have a great many suicide by cop issues. The police are truly the victims in the story. What can you possibly do when some nut is pointing a 45 at you? They usually try to pop off a few rounds to miss, hopefully getting the nut to put the gun down. Cops really don't like to shoot people unless they are really, really bad guys. In such a small town we tend to know these guys personally and it causes true stress. An exciting job but a stressful one none the less. Thanks for writing and don't stop - we all are out here reading and you do write very well.

Wrexie said...

I have to comment on your, uh, pumpkins on the sidebar. hahaha... :D

Crazy story... I loved it. How many jurisdictions can there be in one small area? sheesh. And two in one house? "Joe, you get him in the living room, I've got the kitchen over in pct 2 covered." WTH? hahaha.

Anonymous said...

nice Halloween decor. how many times have you been asked to move out of the neighborhood? LOL!
...my brother in law was a cop in a small town, like you respectful, direct. saying "show me your hands or I will shoot you" always worked for him to. civilians we are a crazy bunch. thanks for watching out for us.
-M

TheNewMagoo said...

Duh. Everyone knows that it only takes 17 minutes to solve a crime, since you have to take into account the commercials, battling of the cop's personal demons and convincing the captain that said cop's maverick tendencies won't put everyone else in mortal peril.

Hogday said...

Great tale Dude! So I guess a Dodge Charger would require you guys to have Shelby Cobras eh?;) Or are you going to tell me that "Bullitt" was just a movie?

CI-Roller Dude said...

Mr West, The problem is I've forgotten more stories than I remember.
Lor, That's why I also train on cops to use Less Lethal weapons...but our best weapons, or the worst, is our words.

WRX, in our county we have over 15 agencies- not county any feds.

M, It's been a great 31 years.


NMagoo, yes, we are supposed to solve all crimes before bedtime, and spend a Million dollars on CSI.

HD, If we'd made it to San Francisco, we could have played Bullit...

Jay said...

Great ending to a great story. Glad to hear you avoided the extra paperwork but I bet your adrenalin was pumping.

Momma Fargo said...

Love this! So glad you decided to share your stories!

Coffeypot said...

Being that fat, shooting him wouldn't have done more than sting. The shell would have just imbedded in the fat. What happens to the cars in a situation like that. Junked? Fixed and sold?

CI-Roller Dude said...

I have lots of stories...the problem is I forgot most of them.

CP, most of the time fat people don't fight because they do feel pain. and that car is now a Honda I suspect.