Howdy, friends and neighbors. It's time for another installment of Thank Goodness for Stupid Criminals. If your'e new to this series, I'll try to bring you up to speed.I spent 22 years in the Criminal Justice Field, in an assortment of positions that included Correctional Academy Training Instructor, Narcotics officer, Tactical Team Leader and Chief of Police. And while I do not find "crime" to be the least bit funny, I cannot help but be amused at some of the inept, "criminally impaired" that roam our fair land. Some of these folks are so ridiculous in their attempts at myriad crimes, one can't help but have chuckle at their expense. Of course, some cops have done some pretty stupid things in the past, and having been an officer for so long, I feel entitled to needle them, mercilessly. *grins* But that's another article, for another day. Today, I have more "Stupid Criminal" stories for your reading pleasure.So grab some coffee, settle back and enjoy.
CUFF ME, PLEASE!
Of all the crimes I've worked, rape is the among the 3 most heinous. (Murder and child molestation being the other two.) As a rule, I find absolutely no humor in sex crimes, but this one particular fellow was so inept, he literally caught himself. He was soooooo stupid, (this is where you all ask in unison, "HOW STUPID WAS HE...?)well, pretty stupid. His intended victim was laughing so hard, she had a difficult time talking to 911 operators. Here's the story:In December of 1987, a young woman awoke to find a masked person standing over her bed, brandishing a knife. Terrified, she screamed. The assailant was so unnerved by the scream, he dropped his knife, told the woman to shut up and got down on his hands and knees to search for his weapon. After a moment, he gave up. He then set down on the side of the bed and pulled a set of handcuffs from a jacket pocket. The would-be rapist identified himself as "Too-hot Romeo" and told the woman that he had been watching her for months. He went on to explain in great detail that he fantasized about being handcuffed to a bed, while the young woman did a slow "strip tease" for him, after which they would share a long passionate night. He promised that as long as she played along, she wouldn't be hurt. The young woman quickly agreed that the plan sounded very erotic and ....you guessed it. She told the man to strip down to the skin, which he eagerly did. She then handcuffed him to the heavy brass headboard of her bed, then grabbed his clothes, where she correctly guessed the keys to the cuffs would be, and ran to the living room. From there, she quickly called the police. As police were dragging the inept offender out of bed, he stepped on the knife which was laying in the plush pile carpet, neatly severing a toe. Local newspapers tagged the inept rapist, "The 'Where's My Toe' Romeo."(this story was sent to me several years ago by an officer from Florida. Regretfully, I can recall neither the officer's name or his department. if the story rings a bell, please send me a note with the information.)
The Great Canine Caper.
` I don't know why, but dogs seem to be the greatest bane of criminals. Regardless of the type of crime, or dog for that matter, criminals just seem to have trouble outsmarting dogs.Back in the late 1970s, dog-knapping seemed rampant all across the US. Two factors seemed to facilitate this crime. First, there was the problem of certain unethical laboratories conducting "research" on dogs and cats, paying good money for the privilege and asking no questions about the origins of the specimens. Second, there was a substantial amount of money to made in stealing certain breeds of dogs and reselling them to unscrupulous buyers. One night, I answered a call from an anonymous witness who claimed a man was trapped inside a car by a viscous animal. That was the only information given so I truly had no idea of what to expect. Upon arriving at the stated location, I did indeed find a man trapped inside a car. However, not only was he trapped BY an animal..... he was also trapped WITH an animal. It seemed the guy was trying to steal a litter of registered bull mastiff puppies from a residence. He first opened a gate and enticed the two on-site adult dogs to run out of the yard, then quickly scooped up the puppies in an old tow-sack. As he ran back to his car, one of the adult dogs came out of nowhere and bit him. The crook barely escaped by reaching his car, diving in head first and slamming the car door behind him. Unfortunately for the crook, the OTHER bull mastiff, had somehow gotten INSIDE the car. Each time, the man tried to start the car, the mastiff would growl or snap at him. Each time he tried to crawl out of the car, the other mastiff would cut him off. The bad guy was VERY happy to see me.
HEY, KOOL-AID... STICK 'EM UP
Being a fourth generation cop, I grew up around police officers and Sheriff's Deputies. This next incident was relayed to me by one of my dad's friends, a city officer.One afternoon, a local hoodlum walked into one of the small, neighborhood "Mom and pop" grocery stores and pulled a "stick-up." Brandishing a black, large framed handgun, he ushered the owner, a lady in her middle sixties, into the office area and demanded all the money from a small floor-safe. As the frightened woman unloaded the contents of the safe into a paper sack, the young hoodlum turned the gun barrel toward his face and pulled the trigger. A stream of red liquid squirted from the barrel and into his mouth. (No, I'm not making this up) The woman, incensed at being robbed by a "squirt gun" wielding hoodlum, turned on the young fellow and beat him senseless with a bag full of rolled coins. Police later determined that the "gun" had been "loaded" with cherry Kool-Aid.
I'LL GIVE YOU MY DOPE IF YOU'LL CALL MY MOM.
While working undercover narcotics, I managed to make the acquaintance of a longtime suspected drug dealer. The suspect, a large man in his mid 30s, was a local "bad ass" and had a history of violence. The man was also cautious in the extreme and always managed to stay one step ahead of the police. This was to be my last case before coming out from undercover. Win, lose or draw, I had a couple of weeks at best, then I would go back into uniform. My primary assignment with this guy was to gain his confidence, develop a list of his contacts and make a case against him, if at all possible.We first met in small, seedy bar where he allegedly conducted his "business." The bar was nearly empty of patrons and I found an excuse to talk to him. After a couple of weeks, he decided I was "okay."He also found me to be a willing audience for his stories and boasts. One night, he seemed particularly wound-up and was bragging about his prowess with a handgun. Although I was certain he owned a gun, to my knowledge, he'd never brought one into the bar. Suddenly he stands up, reaches inside his jacket and draws a semi-automatic pistol. He then points the gun at my head and grins. Now, as you may or may not know, officers who work "under" don't normally carry identification and in most instances, we don't carry guns. The risk of exposure is just too great, should the bad guys get suspicious and decide to "frisk" you. Not that it would have mattered, on that night. The bad guy had every advantage and I was sweating bowling balls. I just sat there wondering what had given me away.Suddenly, he pulls back his jacket and reveals a brand new, nylon shoulder holster. One of those faux pas "Miami Vice" imitations. "How do you like it, man?" he asked. Stunned, I only nodded. He said, "I just bought this bad-boy, today. Been practicing my draw. Watch this." He puts the gun back in the holster, then made a great show of "deep breathing" and flexing his fingers. Just like the Andy Griffith show, when Barney Fife practiced his famous "quick draw." Suddenly, he reached inside his jacket, grabbed for his gun, and promptly shot himself through the upper arm. The bullet struck the bone and generally made a mess of things. In shock, he sat down on his stool, and said, "Man, I'll give you an "eight ball" if you'll go call my Mom. (An eight-ball is an eight-ounce of cocaine) I took his dope, went to a pay phone and called the uniformed officers to come get him. Ordinarily, I would have just taken the dope, then filed for a warrant the next day. But this was too good to pass up. Oh..and I called his Mom from the jail.Thank goodness for...well, you know. *grins*
Copyright Lem Jackson 2001