Last night, L-C told me Dealio's hot.
Sweet.
He's a mope and thief addicted to meth.
Tonight, I ran him at the start of shift. He had a no bail PV for burg.
Nice. He'll spend some time in jail and not be out stealing.
I look on the small streets of the South Village with no luck.
After the witching hour, into crime blinder time, I swing by Dealio's dad's one last time before the slow slalom back to the barn.
I spot him. He's half a block away walking towards me.
He pretends not to see me. Wearing sunglasses under the double hoods of his jacket and sweatshirt, he hunches over and pretends not to see me.
I pop out of the prowler, snatch him up.
Hey Dealio, you're under arrest.
He has a knife, but no dope.
He cries on the way to jail.
After booking him, I call the Sgt. The rest of the shift is in.
I have a three liner, found, arrested, booked, and then, I will be in.
Jails's a block from the barn. I round the last corner, signal for the garage door, when an Audi turns from Independence north onto 1st.
1st is a one-way south.
At a slow speed, the car fails to find the first lane and swings into the second lane.
The lane I'm in.
The driver a woman, twenty-eight, maybe thirty, looks at me with wide and glassy eyes.
I know she's drunk.
I turn on my overheads. The Audi slows, finds the east curb lane, and stops.
I hit the PA.
You are going the wrong way.
I exit my car.
"I'm sorry officer, I'm lost."
You are going the wrong way. Please turn around. Use the drive way to make the u-turn. Please stop in front of my car.
It's an easy turn.
It takes her several attempts.
How much alcohol have you had tonight?
"One drink. Honestly! I have only had one drink."
She's small and thin, but she's had more than one. I am guessing she had a minimum of three.
I call for a traffic bike.
She's a keeper.
I ruin her evening before she ruins somebody else's.
At the precinct, an hour later, she blows a .21, two and half times the legal limit.