I'm on a burg, putting pen to paper, when dispatch calls up Wash.
"7David5"
"7David5."
"M vs. F in a silver sedan: 34th / Breakers."
"7David5, copy ."
I chime in. 7David4. That's mine. Give this call a Frank and make me primary on the beef.
I check the map on the MDT. Wash is a few out. I'll be first on scene, so I don't roll code.
En route east, I keep my eyes open for the car in case of a mobile beef.
On 34th, I spot the car north of the boulevard. I turn on my take-downs and park two car lengths back.
It's occupied. A man is in the right rear. A woman is in the driver's seat. They're sitting still. It's calm.
I stalk up, scan inside: look at the hands, the posture.
They are frozen.
Something's up. They're caught.
Ma'am, will you exit the car and come speak with me?
"Yes, officer. "
I look to the man.
Sir, stay where you are. Stay in the car. Do you understand?
"Yes, sir. "
I walk the woman back to the driver's side of the prowl car.
The cars are canted, so I have concealment between me and the sedan.
The back door cracks open.
Sir, shut the door.
He complies.
Ma'am, what's the story?
She says, "We're from out of state. My boyfriend drove out. We're looking for a place to live when we move out next Fall.
Why did he start arguing with you?
"He didn't. I did. I was yelling at him."
You were the aggressor?
"Yes!"
It's not the usual script.
Why were you yelling at him?
"We're lost and tired and frustrated. We just started arguing. It's my fault. "
Wash rolls up, watches the male half.
What are you looking for?
"The Breakers. "
You found it.
Any physical violence? Threats?
I look at her face, her neck, her arms....
She's bleeding from the third knuckle of her right hand. The skin is split. It's a striking injury.
"No, well...."
She sees me looking at her hands.
"When I was arguing, I punched the steering wheel. "
You punched the steering wheel?
"Yeah."
I guess the steering wheel won.
Wash gives me the nod.
I have the woman sit on the push bumper of his prowler.
We huddle. He says, "The guy's got a fat eye and several finger nail scratches to his face. "
We switch.
I talk to the male.
He has a burgeoning black eye. Finger nails have gouged his nose and cheek around the bruising eye.
He's the clear loser of the fight.
How did you get those scratches?
"I must have got them when I sat in the back seat?"
Really?
"Yeah.."
He's lying.
They aren't consistent with sitting.
"Uhhhh..."
What are you doing in the neighborhood?
"We were driving around looking for a place to live. We started arguing, but nothing happened. "
How did you get the black eye?
"Uhhh."
And the scratches?
"From getting in the backseat?"
It looks like she punched you.
"Something like that may have happened... "
And you don't want to say anything because you don't want to be a victim?
"Something like that. "
It's an injury. It's a DV. It passes the reasonable person test.
I tell him to wait, walk back to Wash, and give him a nod.
We hook her up. She screams. She struggles.
Relax. It's a mandatory arrest. We aren't going to hurt you.
We can see the boyfriend boiling in the back seat.
Wash breaks away, blocks him, and explains the rules to him.
He asks to trade places with her.
After she's in the car, I explain.
She hit you. You didn't strike back. In this case, you're the victim.
Taking you to jail wouldn't be right.
Hmm, I notice you questioned the female first....is this because we're usually willing to spill the beans without much prompting? lol!
Posted by: rebeccaj | June 14, 2013 at 08:52 AM
@ Rebecca,
It is a tactical choice.
First, the woman was the driver. If a pull her out of the car. The car cannot take off, flee, or be used as a weapon.
Second, the boyfriend was my size. The gal was tiny. I could talk to her and wait for cover to arrive as long as the man agreed to stay in the car.
Cheers,
RD
Posted by: RD | June 14, 2013 at 11:36 AM
Ahhh, okay. I thought maybe it was because we're more likely to get intimidated and spill the beans! Ok, *I* would be:)!
Posted by: RebeccaJ | June 20, 2013 at 06:07 AM