by Len Norman
As Frank was handcuffing the Commissioner it occurred to him that Ivan never did his own paperwork. If he’d ever completed an arrest report on his own, Frank wasn’t aware of it. Ivan was more of a hands-on kind of cop. The Commissioner really was a prick. His name was Theo Schiller and he was a blowhard that was always running his mouth at the weekly commission meetings. His favorite targets were the Department of Public Works and the Police Department; the cops hated Theo Schiller with a passion.
The usual method of operation for the other commissioners was to pick on the Riverside firemen as well. Most of the cops, especially the chosen few, thought the firemen inferior and referred to them as hose monkeys. The firemen had no great use for policeman either; they described them as blue canaries. That particular name was derived out of most cops’ complete lack of regard for hazardous material responses. The hose monkeys would sit in their fire trucks a half mile from the action and peer at clouds of smoke as they gauged wind direction and air speed. All of the hose monkeys carried special manuals to determine what the smoke meant or the placards on the side of overturned trucks and train cars. After a time, if the blue canaries didn’t pass out or die, they’d slowly inch their fire rigs closer.
Theo Schiller and his hose monkey pal Martin Porter started the fight inside the bar around the time Ivan was still in a state of deep sleep. They were both running their mouths about this and that and before too long the serious drinkers had had enough. Theo was lit up just enough to give himself false courage. He picked on the biggest guy in the bar, which turned out to be a bad move. Theo sucker-punched him and soon realized he was in deep shit when his adversary never went down. The rest of the fight was pretty much natural selection. Theo and Martin were both punched shitless and thrown out the side door and into the parking lot just about the time Frank was calling for backup.
Most of the other troublemakers had fled before Reg and Quentin pulled up in separate cars at the same time. Calvin was working with Victor and when they arrived there were six cops on scene and one was wasted. Victor crawled out of the car drunk as a skunk and was on all fours crawling toward the bar. He meant to provide backup assistance to his fellow officers.
Victor had begun drinking around noon. He was helping a buddy shingle a roof, and before the work was completed he’d consumed a dozen beers or so. Victor actually considered calling off work but before he knew it he was sitting in the police department parking lot polishing off a few cold ones before roll call. He kept to himself and nobody even knew he was drunk.
When Calvin saw Victor crawling around, he immediately tried to get him back in the car, but not before the City Commissioner saw Victor.
Theo Schiller was back on his usual game; being an officious prick. He was handcuffed in the backseat of Ivan’s patrol car and his buddy Martin was seated next to him.
Theo told Ivan, “Officer, you have made a monumental mistake. I’m Commissioner Theo Schiller and I will have your badge before close of business!”
Ivan got out of the car and opened the door and grabbed Theo. “Go ahead and try it you piece of shit. When we’re finished with you half of Riverside will hate your guts and the other half never cared in the first place. The best part of you rolled down your old man’s leg. I fucking dare you to do anything but plead guilty!”
Ivan got back behind the wheel and Theo said, “What in the blue fuck is that police officer doing crawling around on his hands and knees? Has he been drinking?”
Frank cast a sly glance at Victor as they were leaving for the county jail. He turned around and looked at Theo. “That’s one of our finest officers on the entire department. He recently graduated from the FBI Academy and is using one of the latest techniques on how to approach situations where guns might be involved. You have just witnessed the future of police work.”
Frank and Ivan transported Theo and Martin to the police station. Captain Eberhart was waiting. “What have these two been up to? I see we have a low-level politician and a hose monkey. This better be good or heads will roll.”
“These guys are all fucked-up drunk and they picked a fight at the Gone to Hell Bar. This one here says he’s a commissioner; he said he’d have the shift commander’s badge, and we didn’t think it was right. He shouldn’t be going after a police captain just because they broke the law and got caught. We were only doing our jobs,” Ivan said.
Captain Eberhart said, “Is that so? Book the both of them and no special treatment for the Commissioner.” He looked at Martin and said, “I know you, aren’t you a hose monkey?”
Martin grinned sheepishly at the Captain, “I surely am. This is all a mistake; your officers have made a rush to judgment. Release us both or you may find yourself in bigger trouble than you can handle.”
Frank marveled at the speed in which the Captain’s face reddened; he waited for the inevitable and kept a straight face as Ivan began to giggle. Frank had time to briefly wonder if the hose monkey had any clue whatsoever of the shit storm he had just started. What happened next was swift and directly to the point.
The Captain began slapping the hose monkey, first one side of the face and then the other, his hand was like a piston. He slapped Martin a half dozen times before he could even realize the trouble he was really in. He grabbed onto Martin’s nose and squeezed very hard. The sound was low and penetrating as blood spurted from the broken nose. He twisted the nose, first one way and then the other. He was not to be denied, his hatred for all hose monkeys was abundantly clear. Captain Eberhart was avenging all of the wrong done to all of the policemen in the world at the hands of firemen. He poked Martin in both eyes, Three Stooges-style, and then slapped him a few more times. All of this occurred within a matter of fifteen seconds.
Martin fell to both knees. He was in pain and that pain was beyond anything he could’ve imagined. He wept like a child. “Please stop! I’ll do anything you ask. Just stop. I’m dying.”
“You aren’t dying, but you’ll wish you were if you don’t do exactly what I ask,” the Captain said.
Martin cried in wretched pity, “Anything! What do you want me to do?”
The Captain said, “You’ll apologize to my officers and you’ll apologize to the judge when you plead guilty. The next time you see one of us at a bar fight, you will stand at attention and you WILL salute my officers. Do you understand?”
Martin was crying harder as he said, “Yes Captain, I’ll do everything you said.” He turned to Ivan and Frank and apologized immediately to both of them. To everyone’s amazement he brought himself to attention but his hands were handcuffed behind his back. The Captain realized what Martin wanted to do and he said, “Officer Lamkin, take this prisoner’s handcuffs off.”
Frank removed the handcuffs and Martin brought both arms in front of him and stood at attention. He saluted the Captain and then he saluted Frank and Ivan. The janitor peeked in the doorway to see if the coast was clear and Martin saluted him as well. The janitor took one look at all of the blood running down Martin’s face and ran out of the room and then ran even faster out the back door.
Theo Schiller was nothing if not a quick learner; he immediately apologized to Captain Eberhart and then Ivan and Frank. The commissioner then snapped to attention and said, “Captain, if you could find it in your heart to have your men take these handcuffs off of me, it would be my honor to salute all three of you.”
“Officer Lamkin. Please remove the Commissioner’s handcuffs.”
Frank said, “Certainly Captain, it would be my pleasure.” He unlocked the handcuffs and Theo brought both of his arms around and looked at Captain Eberhart first as he said, “Sir! I believe rank has its privilege.” He saluted the Captain first and then Ivan and finally Frank.
Captain Eberhart said, “Officers, please clean this hose monkey up a bit before taking him to jail. It appears he was hurt in the fight at the Gone to Hell Bar. Is that how you received your injuries?”
Martin began bobbing his head like a crazed marionette and Theo
saluted the Captain again. That last salute pleased him the most. “Officers, please tread lightly and treat both of these gentlemen kindly as they are taken to jail. I believe they have learned their lesson. Is that right?”
They both agreed they had, in fact, learned their lessons. “You will both be pleading guilty as well as apologizing to the judge for tonight’s behavior at the Gone to Hell Bar? Is that what I can expect?”
Theo Schiller said, “Absolutely Captain. You will never hear a peep out of me again. The judge will know this was our fault, all of it.”
The Captain glared at Martin. The hose monkey said, “The same here, sir!” Martin couldn’t help but look down and stare in amazement at the Captain’s very large and powerful fingers.
Martin stayed on the Riverside Fire Department and later on tried his own hands at politics. He made a successful run at commissioner but his accomplishments were marginal at best. For Theo Schiller’s part he resigned from the commission shortly after he appeared in court. Local newspaper reporters were on hand and for once they managed to get the quote from Theo exactly right. They focused mainly on how he apologized to the judge for the way he had behaved. The judge fined them both a hundred dollars and suspended their sentences. They were required to perform community service work. The next four weekends were spent washing police cars, and when the janitor saw them he ran off again.
The Evil Spirits Motorcycle Gang
1980
The Evil Spirits motorcycle gang had chapters in nearly every state but was especially prevalent in the Midwest, and Riverside, Michigan, was no exception to their presence. The gang members wore leather and had long hair and refused to shave. For most of them bathing was not on their bucket list, or part of their daily routine. They ran together and they had loud motorcycles. America feared them while the police did not. The gang members rarely went out alone and for them safety in numbers said it all. They loved to stare at the cops and give dirty looks and all manner of disrespect. As far as the police were concerned they would ignore the looks but get even when things got dark, especially around bar closing time.
The gang carried guns and many of them were better armed than the police. This did nothing to deter the Regulators. One very hot night a group of them left a motorcycle hangout called Aces-up Tavern. For fun, most of the cops called it Assholes-up Tavern, and one time Albert slipped up and called it just that over the police radio. He was given a day off for cursing on the radio, but he didn’t mind, the entire summer had been very hot and Albert was already considering a career move.
On one particular night in August eight gang members were leaving the Aces-up Tavern. Three were on motorcycles and the rest of them were piled in a beat-up van. They pulled out of the parking lot and onto Belmont Street and Reg was about a half block behind them. He had his window rolled down and when he drove past the Aces-up Tavern someone in the parking lot yelled, “They’re just having fun!”
Reg heard, “They have a gun!”
Hot damn, Reg thought, probable cause! He followed the motley crew and called for assistance. By the time he pulled them over there was one van, three motorcycles, and eight police cars. Everyone was ordered out of the van. Victor was wielding a shotgun and so was Quentin. The rest of the cops had handguns and all of them were pointed at the gang. For special effect, the cops were all cursing at them; there were high school swears and threats of violence if they didn’t behave.
The pat downs began. The gang members were holding their hands on the van and their legs were spread apart, but not all eight of them…only seven. The eighth gang member was a midget and his hands were holding the left front tire of the van. His nickname was Big John. The gang was funny like that, calling a midget Big John.
Calvin and Quentin conducted the pat downs. They came up with three handguns and some marijuana. Big John had a dozen condoms on him and Quentin singled him out as an eternal optimist. Three arrests were made and a couple of the bikers were less than pleased. Manny Arvis and Freddie Hamilton thought it was bullshit of the purest ray serene and questioned the probable cause.
“Fucking pigs! You got no reason to even stop us. We’re upright taxpaying citizens. You bunch of dick chews all work for me,” Manny Arvis shouted as spittle rolled down his chin.
Freddie Hamilton was far shrewder than Manny and had spent five years longer in prison than Manny. Freddie offered, “You fucksticks got no PC-anything you find gets tossed, everyone knows that much.”
Reg and Calvin looked at one another and Calvin winked at Reg as he walked up to Freddie. “Shut your cakehole numbnuts,” Calvin said. Before Freddie could crack wise, Calvin hit him in the kneecap with his nightstick and Freddie was down for the count and all thoughts of due process was gone. Freddie was done for the night and so were his slightest hopes of constitutional protection and truth telling on behalf of Riverside’s finest.
In Freddie’s unbiased opinion, they were all fucked.
Quentin decided they could handcuff all three of them with two sets of handcuffs for a joke. He handcuffed Freddie’s right wrist to Big John’s left wrist and with the other set of handcuffs, he handcuffed Big John to Manny. Quentin said, “Well, what the fuck do you make of these guys? Looks like Freddie and Manny are walking Big John to grade school; little Johnny is too small to walk to school yet and he might get lost.”
“Good one, Quentin, a pretty rose between two thorns,” Reg said. “Let’s get a picture of the school boy and his two uncles.” Reg walked to one of the patrol cars and grabbed a camera and said, “Hey stupid, say cheese.”
To everyone’s delight all three of them immediately looked at Reg and he took their picture. “At least they know their names,” Calvin said. They loaded all three in one of the patrol cars that had a cage.
Quentin drove to the station and Victor rode shotgun and kept an eye on the suspects. Victor was in a frisky mood. He detested all of them and was leery of midgets as well. “Listen to me, Big John, if you behave yourself I might give you a sucker and a tour of the police station. All of the other first graders love suckers and tours. Hell, I might even give you a lollipop if you’re a real nice little boy.”
Big John bellowed, “FUCK YOU FUCKER! TAKE THESE HANDCUFFS OFF AND I’LL KICK YOUR NUTS IN!”
“Simmer down, Big John,” Victor said. “It’s against the rules and regulations to let midget prisoners climb ladders so they’re tall enough to kick anyone’s nuts in…’sides I was just joking. You and I both know juries always give the short shit’s the benefit of the doubt. You might want to say the big guys were picking on you and made you carry the gun and buy rubbers.”
Big John simply glared at Victor. If hate could be measured, Victor would do well to tone things down a bit. “What’s the matter little buddy? Cat got your tongue?”
Little John spit through the cage and directly in Victor’s face and said, “There you go pig! You might want to wipe that off, because I think I might be coming down with a cold. That’s what I get for sleeping too close to the crack last night. Your mother’s crack.”
“Oh boy,” Quentin said as he pulled the car to screeching halt. Victor took his gun out of the holster and handed it to Quentin. He said, “Sit tight buddy, I’ll be right with you.”
He opened the back door and jumped in the backseat and right on top of Big John. Freddie and Manny were both laughing their asses off and sat back and watched. They both had one free hand but knew it wasn’t enough to stop what was about to occur. Victor grabbed Big John by the throat and squeezed as hard as he could and began shaking him back and forth.
“Take it back, you lying little cocksucker. Take it back or I swear I’ll choke the ‘Evil Spirit,’ or whatever the piss you idjits are calling yourselves, right the fuck out of your black heart. TAKE BACK WHAT YOU SAID ABOUT MY MOTHER…YOU LYING DINK!”
Big John’s eyes were bulging and his legs twitched but there was no place for him to go. He would find no safe haven and no solace; he was knocking on death’s door.
Quentin chimed in from the front seat, “I heard it myself, Victor, he bad-mouthed your mother and needs correction. He should be ashamed of the way he talked to you. I wouldn’t even give him the lollipop tour if I were you.”
Victor had nearly lost it and never heard a word Quentin said; the only thing Victor was thinking of was his sainted mother and how Big John besmirched her good name. Big John was trying to take it back but nothing came out. His eyes were bulging and he screamed, “ORRY!” It was the best he could do, and fortunately for him it was all it took.
Victor let go and said, “Sorry for what?”
Big John was cagey and street wise. As he began to catch his breath he knew he better make the apology a good one. “I’m so sorry that I said those things about your mother. I knew they weren’t true, but I was angry and said it because I get mean when I’m angry. Please accept my apology, Officer Klemm. Another thing, I never should have spit in your face. Again; I guess I’m just plain mean. Please forgive me, you were right. I am little and I am a liar and probably a cocksucker as well. Yep! I’m a lying little cocksucker. I truly regret my actions tonight.”
A smile began to form on Victor’s face and he decided Big John wasn’t so bad after all. He felt a little sorry that he’d lost his temper but would never give that midget fuck the satisfaction of knowing as much, because in the end, Big John was nothing more than a pile of stinking garbage and a small-time crook.
“I think maybe we can forget about all this business, Shorty. You were out of line bringing up my mother. I accept your apology,” Victor said. “The best thing you can do is shut the hell up from here on out.”
Big John replied, “I certainly will do as you suggest officer. The gun you found on me was only being held for another. I’m a victim in this entire recent charade. The only reason they keep me around is for laughs.”
Victor and Quentin were near the police station and they cautioned all three of them to behave once inside because Captain Eberhart was in command and he was not to be taken lightly. Quentin said, “One time a guy cracked wise and the captain head-slammed him on the booking counter, and nothing but Chiclets were left. The guy did time in the county lockup and even paid for his own dentures. It was a splendid sight.”
