Fighting crime, one desperado at a time

Monday, I told the story of wasting the day in Omaha testifying at a committee hearing on an interim study commissioned by the Nebraska Legislature. It wasn't a total waste, though. The hearing was in the Omaha City Council's chambers--on the second floor of the Omaha/Douglas County Civic Center. During the morning testimony, I stepped out into the foyer to handle a cell phone call. Omaha Deputy Chief Mark Sundermeier was doing the same thing, and a uniformed Omaha police officer was also outside the chamber, apparently functioning as security.

A gentleman came gliding up the escalator that all three of us recognized. He is a prolific thief, who specializes in smash-and-grab crimes like these. Although he is an Omaha resident, he has been arrested in Lincoln on several past occasions, and we always consider him when we have an outbreak of these offenses. For the benefit of the police employees who read The Chief's Corner, his initials are JCJ. I actually carry around a bulletin about him on my laptop and cell phone. That's how I recognized him: from the photo--we've never met. He's better looking in person than his mug shot; a tall, rather elegantly dressed man, and he was arm-in-arm with his wife.

I greeted him by name at the top of the escalator. He had that look of feigned recognition, and introduced me to his wife. I explained who I was, and asked him if he had been stealing anything in Lincoln lately. He said he had not. I thanked him, and asked him if he would please not do so in the future, either. I thought it might be therapeutic for him to know that the Lincoln police chief recognizes him, knows about his M.O., and politely requested that he not ply his trade in my jurisdiction. I'm not sure, but I think my Omaha counterparts were a little taken aback by my direct and personal approach.

I encountered desperado number two yesterday afternoon. Among my more arcane duties is to serve on the board of appeals for peddlers permits and taxi licenses. If you are turned down, you can appeal to a three-member board. Since it's usually me who is denying the permit or license (well, not me personally, but my staff), it seems odd that I'm a voting member of the appeal board. In reality, though, I'm a pushover. If you can convince me that you really are trying to stay on the straight-and-narrow, I'm the one most likely to make the motion to grant your appeal despite the legal grounds for denying the permit application. I look at it like this: we're all better off if you are employed, so if I think you're not a genuine risk, I'd like to see you get the job.

Our subject arrived for his appeal hearing at the time and place appointed. That step alone trips up most of the appellants. We talked to him for a few minutes about his lengthy record of misdemeanor convictions. He made his pitch, and I asked him to wait in the lobby while we considered the matter. After a brief discussion, I made the motion to approve his permit and the vote was unanimous. I went out and told him I had good news and bad news: "The good news is that we've unanimously granted your appeal, and you can have your peddlers permit. The bad news is that you are under arrest."

I handcuffed him and walked him across the parking lot to book him into jail. He knew that he had failed to appear in court to settle a court-imposed fine back on June 16, but I don't think he expected that I would be aware of the outstanding arrest warrant. The 31 year-old holder of a new peddler's permit was waiting for his mom to bring $60 down to spring him from jail when I departed. He needs the job.