Subject: Caught With His Pants Down 


 So there I was… 
… we had experienced another homicide in my division, and the scene was rather
large.  It seems there had been some chasing, followed by stabbing, followed by
fleeing the scene.  At some point in that brief timeline, one person expired from
loss of blood.  Because of all that, it took a vast number of cops to handle the
scene, rather than the few we would use on a “normal” homicide.

The detectives still aren’t sure if the dead person was a suspect or a victim, but
that’s neither here nor there since I didn’t have anything to do with the homicide
call.  The dispatcher tried to keep me clear to handle DUIs, like she’s supposed to
do, but there were officers from other divisions sent down to our neighborhood to
help out.

At one point I was the only cop in my division that wasn’t on a call.  Suddenly one
of the restaurants in our division had a burglary alarm going off, and the
dispatcher had no choice but to send me.  She also sent a guy from the downtown
division because he was in our area shagging calls anyway.  He has been a cop for so
long, rumor has it he was a rookie when Moses was directing traffic.

He showed up first, then got on the radio and said it was a real burglary; the glass
front door had been smashed out, as well as a window.  He waited outside for me to
arrive, because no cop clears a building by himself if he wants to make it home at
the end of the shift.  Remember, at this point all we knew is that someone had
broken in – we didn’t know if there were any suspects still inside or not.

Being that it was a legitimate burglary, I drove into the parking lot from the
building’s blind side.  In other words, there were no windows and anyone inside
would not have seen me approaching.  I was blacked out, and parked next to the other
officer’s cruiser.  I grabbed the shotgun (there is nothing like having the
intimidation power of “yea ol’ blunderbuss” to gain compliance from someone, or do
some real damage if they decide we’re going to gunplay) and racked a round into the
chamber.  

I snuck around the corner of the building as I watched the dark corners.  I wasn’t
sure where the officer had positioned himself, or if the suspect(s) had posted a
sentry outside to ambush a cop.  I spotted the silhouette of a man and recognized
him as being the officer.  I knew it was he because his Sam Browne belt silhouetted
against the faint backlighting provided by nearby streetlights.  He had his back to
me, and was looking across the parking lot away from the restaurant.  

I paused, trying to see what he was looking at but wasn’t able to detect anything.
Although my shotgun is equipped with a forearm-mounted flashlight, I didn’t want to
risk giving away my position (and the other officer’s) by using it, especially since
I didn’t know what had drawn the other officer’s attention.  After a few seconds, I
heard an odd sound coming from the direction the officer was looking.  Apparently he
had heard it, too, which is what had drawn his attention away from the restaurant.

It sounded like glass bottles being clanked together over and over again.  There
were no vehicles in the parking lot; it was completely empty except for one enclosed
trailer, all by itself.  The sound seemed to be coming from the trailer, but it
wasn’t muffled like it would be if the noise was coming from inside.  Whatever was
making the noise must have been behind the trailer, I reasoned, rather than inside
it.

I quietly approached the other officer, making him aware of my presence before
startling him.  He whispered to me that shortly before I arrived he had shined his
flashlight at the sound, and there was, indeed, a person behind the trailer.  He
said the guy didn’t seem to notice the flashlight on him, so he shut it off and
waited for me.

At 3:00 in the morning, what would a guy be doing hiding behind a trailer and
clanking glass bottles together right next to a restaurant that had just been
burglarized?  We both agreed to check it out before clearing the building.  I
brought the shotgun up to my shoulder and “duckwalked” towards the trailer.  The
other officer followed suit with his pistol.  The trailer was backlit by the same
streetlights that had allowed me to recognize the officer, so tactically we were
approaching from the correct direction.  The other person would have more difficulty
seeing us than we would in seeing him.

While approaching the trailer, we passed several liquor bottles that were broken on
the parking lot.  The ground around them was still wet, indicating they had been
recently broken.  How odd.

Just as we got close to the trailer, the man emerged from behind the trailer and
startled when my shotgun light blinded him.  It was hard for me not to laugh,
because the sight I’m about to describe to you was a first for me:  He was wearing a
shirt, but no pants.  That’s right, it was 20 degrees outside and he wasn’t wearing
any pants.  In his arms we was carrying his pants; the legs had been knotted and
they were stuffed to the hilt with liquor bottles.  This is what we in police work
refer to as “a clue.”  

After a second or two of staring into the shotgun light, the guy was finally able to
see again.  He told me, “That’s a big f-n shotgun, man!”  

“It sure is.  Now put that down, turn around, and put your hands behind your back.”

I’ll spare you the rest of the details, but suffice it to say we had caught a
burglar with his pants down!  He had committed a felony to steal a few open bottles
of liquor from a restaurant.  To top it off, he told me he had just gotten out of
prison.  I told him, “You know, they have visiting hours at most prisons.  You
didn’t have to make me send you back there just so you could see your friends.”  

DOOM ON YOU, DIRTBAG!!!