America's Dumbest Criminals

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America's Dumbest Criminals Page 5

by Daniel Butler


  When both cops drew their weapons, the suspect started to go for his own, but thought better of it. Seeing that his friend was in trouble, the driver of the car did what had to be done—he prepared to save his own tail. Before he could get the car in gear, however, he found himself staring down the gun barrels of about a dozen policemen.

  The final score was six pounds of cocaine, ten thousand dollars in cash, three suspects arrested, one car confiscated, and a nice leather purse. And the bust might never have been made if that one narcotics officer hadn’t posted the sign.

  It just goes to show: There is a sucker born every minute. And it always pays to advertise.

  35

  The Sad Saga of Bad Luck Brown

  Don Parker of Pensacola also has a string of tales to tell about a dumb criminal who richly earned his nickname of Bad Luck Brown.

  “We called him that because this guy had atrocious luck,” Parker remembers. “Plus he wasn’t all that bright. He was a small-time crook who spent more time in jail than he did out.

  “I think the first time I met Bad Luck was in 1978 when I rolled in on a robbery call at a church on Sunday morning during the sermon. Bad Luck had robbed the collection plate. He made good on his escape and got away clean with all the cash, but he dropped his wallet. All we had to do was check his driver’s license, then go by his house and pick him up.”

  But the dumbest crime Bad Luck Brown ever committed was one of his unluckiest, too.

  There had been a string of motel robberies in the Pensacola area, and the police had received a tip on where the motel thieves were going to hit next. They always hit the motels around midnight, and the cops planned to be ready for them. Officers were stationed in the motel office and in parked cars around the parking lot. Parker was in the woods across the street with three other officers.

  Just past midnight, an old, beat-up station wagon slowly passed the motel. It rattled up the road, turned around, and came back. The vehicle didn’t fit the description of the motel robbers, and there was only one person in the car. But the motel thieves might have changed cars, or they might have just been casing the place. All the hidden officers watched it carefully.

  The car turned around and came back for a third pass. Don Parker called his sergeant across the street on his walkie-talkie. “You think this might be our guys?”

  “Nah, but he sure is interested in something.”

  The car stopped, a door opened, the driver leaned out and looked around cautiously. The sergeant wasn’t taking any chances.

  “All units stand by. We’ve got some activity out here, but I don’t know what’s going on.”

  Everybody watched as the mystery man stepped from the car.

  “He’s on the ground.” The man walked around his vehicle and into the light of a street lamp. “He’s on the street side of his car now. Okay, I can see him now . . . oh, no!’

  But Bad Luck Brown’s luck held true. Just as he was about to disappear, he tripped over one of the officers and sprained his ankle.

  Parker didn’t like the tone of Sarge’s voice. “What? What?”

  Sarge radioed back, “It’s Bad Luck Brown.”

  The man eased over to the patch of grass in front of the motel and finally stopped next to a lawn mower that someone had carelessly left out.

  Sarge was almost laughing. “I don’t believe it. He’s stealing the lawn mower!”

  Quickly and silently, Bad Luck Brown rolled the lawn mower to his station wagon, dropped the tailgate, and loaded the mower into his car.

  “Move in.” Sarge gave the command with a bit of resigned frustration in his voice.

  The two unmarked cars in the parking lot pulled up to block the station wagon just as Bad Luck started it up. The officers hopped out with drawn guns and called him to freeze. Instead, Bad Luck jumped out and made a run for it. He dashed across the street into the woods—right where Parker was hiding.

  “We almost scared him to death when we jumped out. But he was determined to get away this time, so he bolted to the left into the dense undergrowth. Now, a foot chase at night in the woods is the worst. You’re running into trees and falling down into gullies. So I decided to try to scare him into stopping.

  “‘Halt, or I’ll shoot!’ I fired my gun into the ground. Unfortunately, this didn’t have the effect I had hoped for. All the officers hit the ground, but Bad Luck just sped up. It looked like he was going to get away clean.”

  But Bad Luck Brown’s luck held true. Just as he was about to disappear, he tripped over one of the officers and sprained his ankle.

  “We never did see the motel thieves that night,” Parker says. “But once again, it was our privilege to book Bad Luck Brown. He never ceased to amaze us.”

  36

  Another Run of Bad Luck Brown

  Yet another story about the notorious Bad Luck Brown from Pensacola, Florida, involves a time when this dumb criminal’s bad luck almost changed.

  One sunny afternoon Bad Luck Brown entered a busy liquor store with the intent of robbing it. Once he got into the store, however, there were too many people around for a real stickup, so he switched to Plan B. Fishing in his pocket for a piece of paper, Bad Luck scrawled a note to the cashier demanding money.

  The cashier read the note and quickly handed over all the money in the drawer. In a flash, Bad Luck was out the door and gone. He seemed to have pulled off his robbery with flawless precision.

  Except for one thing.

  When the police arrived on the scene, they found the holdup note used in the robbery. When they turned it over, they knew exactly who to go after and where to find him.

  Bad Luck Brown had written the note on the back of a letter he had received from his probation officer—complete with his name and address. When police tracked him down at home, they were able to inform him that his streak of bad luck was still intact.

  This explosion, they believed, would pour millions of cubic feet of water onto the helpless city, transforming Nashville into a sort of country-and-western Atlantis.

  37

  A Dam Dumb Idea

  In the great state of Tennessee three fools came up with a plan to make themselves rich. They were going to knock off the entire city of Nashville.

  Our schemers needed a few supplies. Dynamite, for instance—lots of dynamite. Their warped plan was to blow up Percy Priest Dam approximately ten miles east of the city. This explosion, they believed, would pour millions of cubic feet of water onto the helpless city, transforming Nashville into a sort of country-and-western Atlantis. Then they would don their scuba gear, swim through the submerged city, and steal all the Rolexes, diamond rings, and money they could carry.

  Bizarre, yes, but that was the plan. Our three aquatic airheads bought some dynamite, carried it to the dam, and succeeded in setting it off. The small explosion did little serious damage. The scheme wasn’t even discovered until a short time later, when the explosive conspirators were captured and arrested.

  38

  Arrest Record

  The record for being arrested belongs to Tommy Johns of Brisbane, Australia. By 1985, Tommy had been arrested for drunkenness two thousand times, according to Brisbane police. His total number of arrests for public drunkenness at the time of his death in 1988 was “nearly three thousand.”

  Legend has it that when Tommy was cremated, it took three weeks to put out the fire.

  39

  It’s the Law

  In the 1980s, New York’s nonviolent offenders were allowed to choose sidewalk sweeping or trash collecting instead of jail time.

  Of the first one hundred arrested, ninety-seven chose jail time!

  They all knew that jail was safer than the sidewalks of New York City—probably cleaner, too.

  40

  The Light at the End of the Tennie

  Just outside Lawrence, Kansas, police were called to an all-night market that had just been robbed. A male Caucasian had brandished a weapon and demanded money from a store employ
ee. After stuffing the money into his pants pocket, he fled down the street.

  Units in the area responded quickly to the alarm. Within moments, two officers on patrol had spotted a man running behind some houses in a nearby neighborhood. Certain that they had the right man, they gave chase on foot.

  But the suspect wasn’t really worried. It was dark, he was a very fast runner, and he knew the neighborhood like the back of his hand. He was sure he would have no trouble eluding the cops.

  It didn’t take long for the fleet-footed suspect to leave the first pair of officers behind, but he was surprised when more officers quickly joined in the chase. Each time the thief would elude one officer, he would be spotted by another. The crook couldn’t understand it; he was using his best moves.

  The pursuing officers had just followed the lights.

  At last there were too many officers on the scene who apparently could see quite well in the dark. Our suspect looked frustrated and surprised when he was finally captured.

  But he was even more surprised and frustrated once the police told him how they knew where he was all the time. He really hadn’t been hard to follow at all, thanks to advanced technology.

  The pursuing officers had just followed the lights. Not the infrared lights used for night vision, but the red lights on the heels of the suspect’s high-tech tennis shoes—the ones that blinked on and off every time his feet hit the ground.

  41

  Possession Is Nine-Tenths of the Law

  In Edina, Minnesota, two would-be robbers hit on a foolproof getaway plan—or so they thought. Rather than using one of their own vehicles, which would be traced directly back to their home, they decided to steal a pickup truck right before they robbed the bank.

  Two blocks from the bank, they found a really nice pickup easy to hot wire. They then parked their stolen pickup outside the Norton Bank while they went inside to rob it.

  So far, so good. But those bandits hadn’t figured on the determination of the pickup’s owner, who had spotted them driving away and sprinted after them.

  The two clever thieves got a substantial haul of money from the bank and then ran outside to find their stolen truck had been, well . . . stolen. The original owner had reclaimed it while they were busy at the bank. Panicked, the robbers attempted their getaway on foot, but they failed. The next pickup in this story was by the police.

  The hapless robber finally made it to his truck with a fistful of greenbacks, only to have his car key break off in the door. As if that wasn’t bad enough, he shot himself in the foot with his revolver while struggling to open the locked door.

  42

  All Thumbs

  There are some days when nothing seems to go right— and this is truer of dumb criminals than it is of most of us.

  Near Cleveland, Ohio, a lone gunman entered a cafe, pointed a gun at the waitress, and announced, “This is a robbery!” The waitress filled a paper bag with money as instructed, and the gunman escaped with the cash. But as the man ran across the parking lot the bag tore open, spilling bills and coins across the asphalt.

  The hapless robber finally made it to his truck with a fistful of greenbacks, only to have his car key break off in the door. As if that wasn’t bad enough, he shot himself in the foot with his revolver while struggling to open the locked door.

  A few minutes later, he hobbled into a hospital emergency room. The police were notified and the footloose, clumsy, unlucky bandit was arrested.

  43

  What’s the Number for 911?

  Dumb criminals usually do their best to avoid arrest, but there are exceptions even to that rule. Charlie Hackett, chief of police in Kokomo, Indiana, remembers a criminal who decided the police were by far the lesser of the evils confronting him.

  “There was a guy in town we’d had some problems with,” Hackett recalls. “He was only about eighteen or nineteen years old, but he’d been arrested several times as a juvenile and was generally a troublemaker. And now he was wanted on a warrant for a burglary. So I was surprised when he called me on the phone at the station.”

  At the time, Hackett was a lieutenant working the detective division. His desk was in a large, busy room, and the room was so noisy he could hardly hear anything.

  Hackett answered the phone and barely heard someone whispering, “Hello? Hello? Is this Lieutenant Hackett?”

  The lieutenant put a hand over his other ear and shouted into the phone. “Could you speak up a little bit?”

  “This is Joe Miller,” whispered the voice on the other end.

  “Joe, why are you being so quiet?” Lieutenant Hackett asked. Then he added, “We have a warrant for your arrest, you know.”

  “I know,” Joe answered. “That’s why I’m calling you . . . to turn myself in.”

  Over the phone, in the background, Hackett could hear a strange boom, boom, boom—like someone pounding on a door.

  “C’mon Joe,” he repeated, “speak up. I can’t hear you.”

  “I can’t talk very loud. I just wanted to turn myself in— come get me right away.”

  It turned out that an angry father and his son had caught Joe messing around with the man’s daughter. Now they had Joe cornered in a room. One was at the front door, and one was at the back door. Turning himself in was just Joe’s way of asking for police protection.

  He figured—no doubt correctly—that almost any amount of jail time would be less painful than five minutes alone with that woman’s father.

  44

  Backseat Driver

  When police pull over a driver, they’re always ready to hear the “big story.” Sergeant Doug Baldwin of the Pensacola (Florida) Police Department remembers a time when a van was swerving and weaving across the center line. When the officer approached the van, now stopped, he noticed that the driver had moved over to the passenger’s seat.

  The officer shined his flashlight across the front seat to the man who had suddenly become the passenger in a driverless van. The officer asked for the man’s driver’s license and registration.

  “I wasn’t driving,” the man claimed and pointed to the backseat. “The guy in the back was.”

  The officer shined his flashlight in back and got a good look at the perpetrator—a huge teddy bear.

  It didn’t take the officer long to assess the situation. One of the van’s occupants was stuffed. The other was obviously loaded.

  45

  Door-to-Door Crime Buster

  An officer in Savannah developed a bold but simple approach to drug busts. This uniformed patrolman would walk up to a known drug house or party and knock on the door. The occupant would answer the door with almost the same greeting every time. In fact, the similarity of the incidents was astounding. Each person reacted in almost the same manner every time the officer tried this very direct approach to crime busting. It went something like this:

  Dumb Criminal opens door. “Uh . . . hello, officer. Is the music too loud? Did someone complain?”

  “Nah, I just wanted to buy a bag of dope.”

  “Huh?”

  “Do you have a bag of dope I can buy?”

  “Well . . . but you’re a cop.”

  “So? Can’t I buy a bag of dope?”

  “But . . . ”

  “Hey, I’m cool, okay?”

  “Cool. Wait right here.”

  A minute later, the dumb (and about-to-be arrested) criminal would be selling the uniformed officer a bag of dope.

  The bold officer made so many arrests this way that he was promoted to detective in record time. Almost all of his arrests were pleaded out without a trial because the criminals didn’t want to admit in court they had sold drugs to a uniformed cop at their own apartment.

  46

  Drag Race

  It was another routine day on patrol at a shopping mall. Officer Dusty Cutler had just grabbed a quick lunch and returned to her squad car when she saw a blond woman sprint out the mall entrance and into the parking lot.

  “She w
as an attractive woman,” Cutler remembers. “She wore a nice print dress, high heels . . . and she was very tall.”

  But why was she running? Seconds later Cutler got an answer when two men ran out the door and pursued the woman across the parking lot.

  At first, Cutler thought the two men were harassing the woman. Then they got closer, and she heard them shouting, “Stop her! She robbed us!”

  Cutler later learned that the woman had shoplifted women’s clothing from a store in the mall and then assaulted one of the managers. The two men chasing her through the busy parking lot were the store’s other manager and a salesclerk.

  As the suspect ran in front of Cutler’s car, she hiked up her dress in order to run faster, exposing a large pair of women’s underwear. They were bulkier than normal, and Cutler could see a sleeve from a woman’s blouse sticking out through the leg opening.

  As the shoplifter sprinted away, the large baggy underwear stuffed with stolen merchandise slipped down over the suspect’s thighs. At that point the officer noticed something extra that obviously didn’t come from a store. The woman shoplifter, evidently, was not a woman.

  By now the officer was having a difficult time calling in the report because she was laughing so hard. And the fleeing shoplifter was rapidly losing ground. With every step, the loaded underwear slipped farther down the suspect’s legs. Finally, they fell to the ground and sent their wearer sprawling.

  Still trying to make a graceful getaway, the fugitive scrambled back up, kicked off both the offending underwear and the high heels, and ran faster. But by this time Cutler had pulled the patrol car into the suspect’s path, and the fleeing criminal slammed across the hood of the car. She/he was arrested and charged with shoplifting.

 

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