"Oh." Jim Reed wished he'd been more cautious while demonstrating that fourth
and twelve play. He opened his eyes and found five or six amused officers
standing over him, compounding his embarrassment. Pete Malloy was kneeling
by his side, not willing to relax until he saw Jim was okay. The locker
room floor wasn't particularly comfortable, so the young man started to get
to his feet - too quickly. A wave of painful dizziness immediately set in.
Pete caught an arm and helped him to the nearest bench.
"That wasn't a bad performance, Reed. Trying out for the lead in Swan Lake?"
Wells' voice seemed more than usually annoying.
"I doubt they need a clumsy quarterback," Jim replied, blinking to chase
away a few lingering spots.
"Maybe you should leave football plays to football fields," Pete suggested
dryly, but with anxious eyes.
"I'll keep that in mind." Jim looked up to see Woods approaching with a
bag of ice. "Thanks."
"Hey, it was my towel. Too bad you fell. That looked like a good pass."
Jim laughed in acknowledgement before carefully settling the baggie on his
head. The normal hum of conversation had resumed by the time Mac walked
in. He stopped in disbelief when he saw his newly injured officer.
"Don't tell me you got hurt before your shift."
"OK, I won't tell you."
The sergeant shook his head in mock disgust. "I'm not going to ask what
happened. Do you need to go to Central Receiving?"
"No, I'm all right."
"Still dizzy?" Pete asked, unconvinced.
"A little," Jim admitted reluctantly. Mac's eyes hadn't miss the slight
wince whenever someone gave their locker door a firm push.
"I'll put you on the desk until that clears up, just to be on the safe side."
Mac had to suppress a smile at the look of chagrin his announcement produced.
"Great," Jim mumbled as he carefully stood to continue dressing. "I'll
be sure never to use that play again. It's bad luck."
"I don't think your bad luck needs an excuse." Pete ignored his partner's
glare, pretending to be absorbed in straightening his badge.
***
It was ten minutes later that officers started streaming into the briefing
room door. Mac was waiting and pulled Pete aside when he walked in. "I've
got plenty of L-cars open, if you want to take one."
The officer was mildly surprised. He knew things had been slow, but he'd
assumed the Scotsman would put him on the streets anyway. "Are you giving
me a choice?"
"Sure. Either go out on patrol alone today or work the desk with Reed until
he's up to active duty."
"They're both real tempting, Mac." Pete thought for a minute. The streets
had been quiet lately; from what he'd heard, the desk had actually been getting
more action than some units. He'd also become used to working in tandem,
specifically with Jim. Patrol alone, to be perfectly honest, sounded both
tedious and a little lonely. He glanced over at his partner, already sitting
in their usual spot, the ice still held against his aching head, looking
understandably dispirited. "I guess I'll stick with Reed," he said at last.
"All right." Mac wasn't surprised. He knew Pete Malloy too well. The
officers moved to their places while their superior stepped up to begin the
briefing.
***
"I'm sorry about this," Jim told Pete as they walked to their assigned station.
"I guess I was being pretty asinine this morning." He assumed that his partner
would rather be on patrol; he didn't know there had been a choice. Said
partner decided not to enlighten him.
"Don't worry about it. I've seen officers pull dumber stunts."
"Yeah? Like what?" Jim took the inside seat, as he had before when Pete
sprained his wrist and they had to work desk.
"Well, a certain sergeant we both know once locked himself in the back of
his own unit."
"You're kidding."
"Nope, it was quite a while back, but he still gets needled about it sometimes,
which is why he made me promise not to tell any of the rookies. Of course,
you're not a rookie anymore, so...."
Just then, the sergeant in question stepped through the open door behind
Jim. He'd caught the last sentence walking by. When both of his officers
quickly turned away to hide smiles, his suspicions about which 'he' Pete
was referring to were confirmed - which called for a little playful revenge.
"I'll check in on you two at about 13:00 hours. Oh, and Malloy, as long
as you're discussing rookie mistakes, why don't you tell Reed about the shotgun?"
Mac stepped back out, but not before noting with amusement the look of consternation
on his friend's face.
"Shotgun?" Jim asked, turning to face his suddenly reticent partner.
"Uh, yeah." Pete was fervently hoping that someone would walk in and get
him off the hook, but it was not to be. Jim continued to look at him expectantly.
The older man sighed and decided to get it over with.
"I'd been on the force about three months. We were on a 211 call, and I
was chambering a shell in the shotgun...." Pete hesitated.
"And?" Jim prodded, mischievously.
"And I, uh, blew a hole through the floor of our black and white." Jim burst
out laughing. Pete sighed and promised himself that he would check the
hallways before he tried to tell a tale on Mac again.
***
As predicted, desk duty was busier than usual, while, according to the officers
who came through, the streets were again quiet. Woods stopped in once to
see how his unwitting victim was holding up, and to pass along the story
on a 502 suspect he had just brought in.
"We chased this guy for about a mile up South Hill street. We figured he
had to be either drunk or high - there was half a light pole dangling across
his hood. Anyway, when we finally stopped him, we could tell he'd been drinking.
We arrested him and asked where the pole came from. Guess what he said."
"He didn't know what you were talking about." Pete had heard that one before.
"No, he said it'd come with the car when he bought it." That was good for
a grin or two. Woods soon bid them goodbye and headed back out.
"Sounds like the idiots have been out in force lately," Pete remarked.
"Thanks a lot."
Pete chuckled. "Not you. Remember the 459 Mac told us about in briefing?"
"Sure."
"I heard this morning why they caught the guy so quickly, even though he
was out of sight before the officers arrived."
"I was wondering about that. Did some 'civic minded citizen' follow him?"
"Nah. He was trying to be intelligent, which wasn't too bright an idea.
He brought along something to put between the door's latch and frame so
it wouldn't lock behind him. When he heard sirens he took off and left it
behind. The officers responding found it."
"What?"
"Traffic ticket - had his address and everything."
Jim suddenly felt much better.
***
It was about an hour later that a rather scruffily dressed man walked in
the station's front door. He looked angry, which put both officers on the
alert. He marched straight up to Jim's side of the desk and reached toward
his coat pocket.
"Hold it!" Reed snapped. Both officers had their guns drawn, ready to duck
for cover if necessary.
"Hey, man, I'm not lookin' for trouble," the other began, obviously a little
high, but Jim interrupted him.
"Just keep your hands away from your pockets."
"OK, OK, man. Chill out. I'm totally on the level. I want to help you
guys out."
"How's that?" Pete asked warily.
"Take a look in my pocket, man. You'll see." The partners glanced at each
other. Pete nodded.
"All right, hand me your coat." The man complied, and Jim did a quick search
of its contents. He found was a baggie much like the one cooling his head
- except this one wasn't filled with ice.
"See, that stuff is crap, man. The guy was trying to rip me off." The
men behind the desk could hardly believe their eyes - the bag was full of
heroin. After another brief, now incredulous, glance at each other, they
sprang into action. Soon two officers on patrol received the man's information
on the dealer. Within an hour he was keeping his customer company in the
station's holding cells.
***
Pete and Jim were still shaking their heads over their druggie when Franklin
and Thomas, an experienced team working Adam-42, brought in a 211 suspect.
Franklin, dapper and nonchalant, stopped by to talk. He leaned casually
against the desk until both officers were free.
"You two look pretty busy." His dark eyes took in the papers scattered
about.
"Yeah, we can't wait to get out on patrol and relax."
"You can say that again, Reed. Seems like even the criminals are making
it easy on us today. Remember that keen 459 suspect we heard about in briefing?"
Both officers nodded.
"Well, the guy we just brought in is even worse. He walked up to the cashier
in Simmon's Grocery and demanded all the money in the register. The cashier
gave it to him, and he took off. We got there about a minute afterwards
to find the cashier waiting outside - with the guy's wallet. He'd left it
on the counter." His partner came around the corner, a bigger, more serious
man.
"He's booked. Hey Malloy, Reed, keeping awake?"
"Sounds like you're having more trouble with that than we are, Thomas,"
Pete replied.
"No kidding." Thomas turned to his partner. "We'd better try for Code 7
while things stay slow."
"Right. See you two later." Franklin turned away with a jaunty wave, while
Thomas simply nodded goodbye. They had barely disappeared around the corner
when Mac came through the front doors.
"How're you feeling, Reed?" Jim actually had to think for a second. Over
the last few hours he'd almost completely forgotten his little tumble.
"Just fine, Sarge," he replied, this time with complete honesty. The once
painful headache had faded into a distant memory.
Mac nodded. "All right, go ahead and get out on patrol. I've already got
replacements coming."
Pete and Jim didn't waste any time obeying, though the younger man made
a quick stop to empty his bag of water into a restroom sink.
"Looks like your bad luck ran out," Pete remarked as they slipped into their
black and white. "Bumps like that have taken officers out for days."
Jim shrugged. "I forgot about it with all the crazy stuff that happened
this morning, and it kinda went away."
"Well, they do say laughter is the best medicine."
"Who?"
"Who what?"
"Who says laughter is the best medicine?" To Pete's raised eyebrow Jim
returned his best 'innocent' look, which wasn't at all bad.
"I think you hit your head harder than we thought."
"Nah, I've just been cooped up at that desk too long."
"Then let's get out of here before you drive me crazy." And they did just
that.
* These incidents (except for the locker room bit, though you never know...)
are true. I adapted them, changing circumstances, locations, and dates,
from four wonderful sources: the Russell list archives at www.onelist.com,
Officer Russell's homepage at www.lifeonthebeat.com, Mr. Gaspirtz's Police
Humor page at members.aol.com/gspz/policehumor.html, and (former) Sheriff
Dettwiler's page at www.iserv.net/~rdett/index.html. Jim, Pete, Mac
and the others are fictional characters, of course - but there are thousands
of real police officers on America's streets who are just as brave, kind,
dedicated, and worthy of praise as those we meet and love on "Adam-12."
