My meeting with the District Attorney did not quite go as I had hoped it would. At first we seemed to see eye to eye, and possibly even like a couple of crime fighters just passing the time. Then we shook hands and I started to speak.
He asked twice what department I was with, and when I told him he slammed his fist down on his desk and hollered, “The Agency! What damn agency, and what is that uniform?” Again I explained that I just started up my department and haven’t had time to get any letterhead or business cards or other official things. The D.A. accidentally spilled his coffee cup, causing hot coffee to go all over his hand and computer.
From this point on, the meeting went downhill. I told him about the bull crap the State Police sergeant and his officers did to me at the Farmers Marker. I showed him the picture of my car encased in a ring of shopping buggies. He sat motionless and with a very odd look on his face.
Hoping to move the meeting forward I asked him to sign a letter I had drafted that recognized me as a police chief and the Agency as a true law enforcement division. The letter also advised “all other law enforcement agencies” to show deference and respect to my Squad car and in essence to stop making fun of it. He reluctantly took the letter scanned it then in an act that truly hurt the community did this:
Man how unprofessional can you be? I told him that he was close to getting destruction of police property charges filed on him. With this he grabbed his computer and threw it like a Frisbee against the office door. “What the hell is wrong with you,” he shouted. I didn’t like the aggressive tone so I issued his ass a 3.5 second flashlight shine to the eyes. “What is that shit?” He demanded. I asked if he was ready to be calm or if he wanted a full 4 second burst. With a confused look on his face, he muttered, “but it’s daytime?”
After a few minutes of listening to him curse about never in his life this… And until his dying day he would pursue that…and oh yea, I hope you end up in federal prison for decades and so forth, he allowed me to present my report. I opened my laptop and showed him a few reports. One was from the Farmers Market “Robbery” and the other was from last nights “explosives investigation”. This is him attentively reading much of what you have read:
Shortly after this picture he fell to the ground clutching his chest. I called 911 and prepared to do CPR but he would not allow me to touch him. In his delusion, the D.A. Kept saying “I hate you” and “you’re a complete idiot” and other stuff that made no sense.
Eventually the EMT’s came and loaded him onto a stretcher. I told him that I would be on patrol tonight and could stop by his hospital room to make sure everything was secure. Again in a moment of irrational delusion he screamed, “get this Sonofabitch out of my face before I kill him myself!”
With everyone out of the office I picked up my letter that he so rudely destroyed and pieced it back together. I noticed a little signature stamp on his desk. Thinking of my city, my duty and the criminals who needed to face their responsibilities, I stamped his signature on my letter!
The Agency Files 