Juvenile Crimes - Chapter 35
Everyone Fighting Their Way Forward
Coquille, Oregon, July 1996 continued…
After handling most of the Grand Jury presentations and many dozens of PSC cases - mostly for meth but heroin was coming back – I got to know quite a few cops. I got along with all of them initially, but there were few who tried to over-assert their authority with me by pushing bullshit charges. I had a few police officers, on separate occasions, try to convince me to file additional charges of vandalism or other such property crime when their defendants resisted or were otherwise being pursued and the officers messed up their uniforms somehow (torn shirts and pants for the most part). They wanted the court to order restitution to pay for it. Apparently, the police departments were all too fucking cheap to replace them on these infrequent occasions, so the cops were trying to get creatively reimbursed. They didn’t like me telling them I wouldn’t do that. “If it goes to trial, it will look like vindictive chicken-shit charges and hurt our credibility on the primary charges,” is what I always told them.
There were a tiny handful of cops that became flat out jerks about pressing charges they thought were warranted but I knew were unproveable for whatever reason. If they hadn’t gathered enough evidence to convict, I was loathe to push charges and hope the cops did their follow-up investigation completely. That didn’t always happen, I learned early on from getting burned at trial in just that way. Evidence sufficient to establish “probable cause” for arrest and indictment (equal to “more likely than not”, or “51% sure”) is a long way from “guilty beyond a reasonable doubt” necessary for a jury to convict (often analogized to the certainty you would have in your most important life decisions). I cared about convictions, not quick case clearances for cops.
One cop, in particular, got far too familiar with me and tried to intimidate me. I’ll call him Trooper “Sooper” because of his insufferable attitude that he was the best cop in the State. He most assuredly was not. Trooper Sooper belonged to the Oregon State Police. He was in his mid-thirties and had a formidable stature, standing at a fit 6’6”. He came into the State Police with a Bachelor of Science degree in Chemistry, which was extremely useful in establishing him as an expert in drug recognition cases. Being deeply invested in the country’s bogus “war on drugs,” Trooper Sooper dedicated himself to personally irradicating the sale and use of all illegal substances in the fucking State. At least, he acted that way.
Trooper Sooper took offense at me for not filing a possession charge against the passenger in a vehicle that he illegally searched. Now, I was a team player – to the extent that the law allowed. My first and foremost job was TO DO JUSTICE, and that never left my mind in evaluating and charging any case. The one in question was clear cut according to the case law – Trooper Sooper had crossed the line and did an illegal search, the results of which were clearly inadmissible as evidence. That meant, no charges filed and no case. By not filing, he was left open to the potential of a civil rights case against him from the defendant. There wouldn’t be one, of course, because beyond the arrest itself, there were no “damages” to pursue. When it got down to it, I told him exactly what Ted had said earlier that year: “It’s not my job to cover for the illegal acts of police officers.”
He didn’t like that. Trooper Sooper got huffy with me, and I told him, “It’s just too bad. The case law is right on point, and you colored outside the lines on this. I know you like to push the legal envelope, but this shit won’t fly. I have an ethical obligation to NOT file a bogus case, and I won’t. Get over it. It wasn’t the first time and I’m pretty sure it won’t be the last.”
If you hadn’t already guessed, dear reader, Trooper Sooper was a gigantic asshole. He took it personally and fucked me at a trial the following week. He was the arresting officer on a traffic stop that ended up busting a woman in her forties and her elderly mother for meth and heroin possession. They weren’t very bright to start with, but less so when they were messed up on drugs. From the police report, they had consented to the searches and admitted to the drugs being theirs. It was a slam dunk case that had only made it to trial because I refused to drop the charges against the elderly mother, who was an admitted heroin addict. She needed treatment and court supervision, or she probably wasn’t going to live much longer from what I got out of the file.
Trooper Sooper no-showed me at trial, defying the subpoena he had received that required his presence. The other Circuit Court Judge at the time, I’ll call him Judge “Cannon,” was holding this trial. He was our oldest Judge, known for his own DUII arrests over the years. He didn’t have much patience for bullshit in his court. When he called the case and my one and only witness, Sooper, did not appear and my staff could not locate him (Sooper slyly scheduled two days off for the trial and the day after), I had no choice but to dismiss the case. Well, there was one other option – to have the Judge issue an arrest warrant for contempt of court and drag Sooper’s sorry ass into Court in handcuffs and chains. The fallout would have been Statewide, and likely get on the TV news for all the wrong reasons. It wasn’t a favored option, so I didn’t do it. I reluctantly moved to dismiss the case.
Judge Cannon punished the Trooper and me both by granting the Defense Motion to make the dismissal “with prejudice,” meaning that we could not refile it. The case was dead.
I was pissed.
I left a very terse message with Trooper Sooper’s Captain about the situation and summoned Trooper Sooper to see me at the first opportunity. He showed up the afternoon of his first day back from “vacation.” He came in with an attitude that varied from arrogant thug to sneering derision and back again. We got into it as soon as the door was shut. He rejected my offer to sit down, preferring to tower over me with his fucking Smokey hat adding another 5 inches to his head and bringing him to a very imposing almost 7-feet. And armed, of course. He must be the most intimidating monster-cop-fucks on the road late at night…
“You got that subpoena six weeks ago, so why did you take time off during the trial and still not show up?” I pressed.
“I didn’t think it really mattered,” Sooper said with high school snottiness. “To you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked.
“You don’t give a shit about my cases. Why should I?” Trooper Sooper shot back with heated venom.
“Look, asshole, I may not be your boss, but I DO outrank you,” I came back with heat of my own. “The District Attorney is the Chief law enforcement official of this County, and as his official deputy, that authority extends to me.”
“Then do your job and prosecute the cases I bring you!” Sooper yelled at me.
“I AM DOING MY JOB!” I yelled back at him. “My job, first and foremost, is to put assholes like you in check when you don’t do YOUR JOB like you should!”
“That was a valid search…”
“Bullshit!” I cut him off. “I gave you a copy of the case that was directly on point, and you’re still going to argue that crap with me?”
“You’re just too afraid to push a tough case,” Sooper accused.
“Fuck you, asshole!” I said. “I try VALID cases that are brought after following proper legal procedure. Or didn’t they teach you that in the Police Academy?”
“Go screw yourself! I know more about police procedure than a snot-nosed little fuck like you…”
“Oh, so when did you pass the Bar?” I cut him off with. “What’s your job again? And what’s mine?”
“Okay, mister high-and-mighty motherfucker,” Sooper said looking down at me, edging closer as to intimidate. “We’ll fuckin’ see how this turns out!”
“Just what is that supposed to mean?” I asked. “Cause if you’re trying to say you’re gonna pull this shit again and no show me at trial, let me tell you what’s gonna’ happen. I WILL have the Judge issue a bench warrant for your arrest for contempt of Court; I WILL have that warrant enforced; and I WILL see your ass in a bright orange jail jumpsuit, in fucking restraints, answering to the Court why you shouldn’t be held in contempt. Then, YOU can try to explain to your bosses why in the FUCK you should be allowed to have a badge, a gun, and a fucking job anymore.”
“You little mother fucker,” Trooper Sooper said with an angry sneer. “You think you can mess with me, and it’s just messing with me? We can make your career get ugly…”
“You threatening me, motherfucker?!” I jolted up from my desk and verbally jumped on him. I didn’t give a damn that he stood a foot above me. “You do your fucking job and I’ll do mine. End of story. You’re on very fucking thin ice right this second, motherfucker. Watch your words carefully.”
“You ain’t shit,” Sooper said with his best derision while stepping a little closer, ominously.
“You trying push me around? In my own goddamn office?” I gritted my teeth for a second before unwinding. “GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY OFFICE! Get out, motherfucker! Now! Move it!”
First, he said, “Fuck you!” Then he complied reluctantly, shuffling his ass out of the D.A.’s Office entirely as I continued my tirade at him down the hall.
“Get the fuck out of here and do not come back crying to me about YOUR FUCKING FAILURE to do your fucking JOB the right way!” I yelled at him until the door slammed in his wake.