STO

I have heard it said only three percent of the population are bad people. This would seem like good news to most people. If you were to meet one hundred people on the street today, ninety seven of them would be good, honest, hard working individuals. I, on the other hand, tend to see the glass as half empty. In a city of one point two million people, if three percent are bad, that means there are thirty six thousand bad people out there. When you consider the fact the city has just under three thousand sworn police officers, you can see we are out numbered at a rate of twelve to one. My job is to even those numbers out just a bit. Some days I feel like I make good progress, on others I am just as certain I am losing ground. While only seven minutes past eight in the morning, I already had the feeling today would not be a good experience.

I got my first look at the new recruits as I walked across the impound yard. Two women and one man stood anxiously awaiting my arrival. I resisted the urge to flee back to my warm bed and a new edition of SportsCenter. Instead, I smiled and nodded to the youngsters, not one of them having yet seen their twenty-fifth birthday. All three eager to do some real police work. To escape from the academy for a few days and show their true worth to the department. That would be the first thing I would have to change.

"Good morning," I said, reaching the group. "I am Lieutenant Marcus Bear. I will be your instructor for the next eight days. You have each been selected from your class at the academy to take part in the rapid advancement program. The commissioner wants to know if any of you have the potential of becoming a quality detective. If so, you will be enrolled in advanced training classes and your movement up to the rank of detective will be greatly accelerated. Personally, I don't hold out a lot of hope for the program, but then the commissioner didn't ask my opinion."

The revelation I fully expected them to fail showed in their expressions. It was always the first sign of who might have a chance, and who I may as well send packing before we break for lunch. The lone male of the group, Greg Withers, looked down right pissed off at the news. Jennifer Locke, the handsome blonde looked hurt, while Rene Baker had a look of shock and disbelief. My first impression told me Jennifer was too emotional and would not take criticism well. I knew from her resume she was an intelligent person, but book smarts would only take her so far. Right or wrong, the fact she had a great figure would also be a problem. People assume a woman with nice cleavage got the assignment based on that fact alone. Despite the laws to protect her, she would still be the victim of sexiest scum both within and outside the department. Being attractive and sexy can be helpful and fun in a lot of areas, but in others it can still be a problem.

I would call Rene attractive as well, but she has a tom boy look that will help divert some of the comments and stereotyping. If I read her correctly, and I am rarely wrong, her expression came from the disbelief we would waste her time. If we didn't feel she could succeed in the program, then why not let her continue with her normal studies? A fair question and understandable attitude, but if she were going to make it very far in the department, she had better get use to people wasting her time.

"For the next eight days we will work on a case together, and at the end of that time I will turn in an evaluation of your prospect of becoming a detective. This is a trial program and its soul purpose is to identify potential," I told them. I started across the impound yard toward several rows of cars. "Auto Theft is up thirty-eight percent in the last three months. They aren't stealing compact economy cars either. To compound the problem, car thieves are told what cars to steal, but not how get them. Car jackings are up and people are getting hurt. I'm sure you all saw the report of the young mother getting tossed out of her car with her three month old daughter in the back seat. She died of head injuries a day later and the little girl is still undergoing treatment. They caught the guy who did it, but there are plenty more out there just like him. Our job is to see if we can't persuade a few of these individuals to take up another profession."

I stopped in front of a badly damaged blue sedan. Also there was Chuck Degree, the impound manager. I shook Chuck's hand and turned back to my entourage. "There are a number of ways to catch a car thief. You can stake out a parking garage and wait for someone to boost a car. The fact most thieves can get in a locked car faster than the owner can with a key makes this a somewhat daunting task. It is also very boring, and you will normally only catch the actual car thief, not the person running the operation," I said. "So we are going to set ourselves a little trap, see if we can entice someone into making a career ending mistake. So, we are going to use this car as our bait," I said, pointing to the car.

The threesome looked at the car, which was barely recognizable as a Lexus GS300. The pale blue sedan had apparently been involved in a roll over that had effectively torn the car to pieces. The motor had been torn from its mounts and was no where to be seen. The frame was twisted, and every piece of metal on the car was torn, dented, or crumpled beyond repair. Not a single piece of glass remained unbroken. My students obviously did not understand my choice of bait.

"Chuck here will be sending our car down to the auction tonight," I continued. "It will be listed as belonging to an insurance firm, who is disposing of the car after paying on the claim. We are going to watch very closely who buys our car. Whoever does... is a car thief."

--- --- ---

My little group and I sat in a far corner of the bleachers. The auctioneer calmly and efficiently sold each of the cars, trucks, trailers, and other vehicles presented. I noticed Greg and Jennifer took notes, jotting down little things I said, their thoughts, and a few observations. Rene did not take notes. In fact, I had yet to see her with a notepad or writing instrument of any kind. I knew from her file she claimed to have a photographic memory. I wasn't impressed. Just because a person can take a picture, doesn't mean they know how to process the film. Besides, in police work notes are critical. Not just for your own use, but for documenting when you knew certain facts, and as a reference for a partner who may need the information when you are unavailable. I was also surprised none of the three had asked the question yet. Another five minutes passed before our car was next in line. Only then did Jennifer inquire about my previous claim.

"How do you know the person who buys the Lexus will be a car thief?" Jennifer asked, speaking in a whisper.

She got a point for being the first to ask, but not much more. "I made certain to pick out a car that was extensively damaged. Now if you look at our car there, what do you see about it that is good? That is salvageable?"

There was a moment of silence before Greg answered. "Its good for scrap metal, but I don't see any parts that a salvage yard could sell."

I waited for the other two to chime in, but they remained silent. "What is the only thing on that car a person would be interested in buying?"

Jennifer sat up a little straighter and glanced at her two classmates before speaking. "The VIN," she said, still whispering.

"Very good," I said. "If somebody pays more for that car than they can get for it as scrap metal, then we can assume there is something else of value in the car. That would be the VIN. The vehicle identification number will be taken from our bait car, which will be legally purchased here, and placed on a stolen car of the same make and model. Once that is done, the stolen car is much harder to identify."

"You picked an expensive car for bait hoping a car thief couldn't resist the opportunity to get a clean VIN," Rene said.

They were catching on, but they still had some impressing to do before receiving a good recommendation. "Exactly. A Lexus like that will go for forty thousand or better new. A year old, in good condition, they will still get between twenty-five and thirty for it. That is a nice payday," I said. "Pay a grand for the car here, a grand to the guy who steals the new car, and you have a profit of better than twenty thousand on one transaction. You do that two or three times a week and you are talking better than three million a year in profit."

"Damn," Greg whispered. "That

is big business."

A moment later we watched as our blue sedan was announced as the next item up for bidding. The buyers had all had an opportunity to view the vehicle before the sale began, and each knew which items they were interested in. In the early stages there were five bidders involved, two of which I knew were scrap dealers, the other three were new to me. When the bidding climbed above the six hundred dollar mark, the two people I knew dropped out. When the bidding reached a thousand, there were only two bidders left in the running. Our bait finally sold for thirteen hundred. We were in business.

"Do we check the guy who finished second in the bidding?" Rene asked.

Score for Rene. "Excellent question. We'll get his name and do a little background on him and his business activities," I said. "Maybe we can get lucky and get two fish with one hook."

"What now?" Greg asked.

"Now we go home," I said. "Tomorrow morning you get a lesson in setting the hook."

--- --- ---

The following morning we met at the department of motor vehicles. It was time for my little group to learn a harsh lesson. A great deal of detective work is boring repetitive work with little glory, and often few results. It was normally the hardest lesson for a youngster to understand. I took a moment to introduce them to Cheryl Winters, a sweet lady who ran the DMV records office. She, and her superiors, had found she possessed absolutely no talent for dealing with the public, but was a wizard at organization. Those who worked with her both liked and admired her. Those who crossed her, learned to fear her.

"You know the VIN, the make and model of the car we are watching," I said. "Now, let's see if you can do a little investigating and keep your eye on our bait."

"How will we do that?" Rene asked.

"Each of you can do it however you want," I told them. "I'm going to go have breakfast and check on some other items. When I get back, I expect you to have something to show me. Cheryl will make certain you have access to whatever you need. Now is the time to impress me."

They weren't happy, and I would have to say none of them looked up to the task. They each had the deer in the headlight look and I did not hold out a great deal of hope for significant progress during my absence. Still, it was a surprise tactic on my part, so they might recover. And I might be made commissioner, but I'm not counting on it.

I enjoyed a leisurely breakfast and a second cup of coffee before making my way to the station. I checked my e-mails, voice mails, snail mail, and noticed my in-basket had grown substantially in the past twenty-four hours. I had twenty-one open cases signed out and making progress on none of them. It was all a reminder of how badly we needed qualified help, I just wasn't certain we had the resources to call upon to fill the need. After making a few phone calls, I made my way back to the DMV just before noon. I found Greg sitting in Cheryl's office taking notes as he asked question after question about procedures and how the VIN of each vehicle sold and registered was tracked. He was gaining experience, but precious little information.

I left Greg to finish his interrogation of Cheryl and went in search of my other two charges. I located Rene working with a clerk entering data in the computer. Like Greg, she was gaining valuable experience, but thus far had not moved our case forward. It took me a bit longer to locate Jennifer, but I was pleasantly surprised when I did. She had found a member of the IT department and has been busy setting up a search program. While there were several reports and programs already in use, she had talked the IT tech into writing a new one especially designed to search for a specific VIN. If that VIN showed up anywhere in the system as having been sold, scrapped, or registered to a new owner, the program would flag it and notify her immediately. I was impressed. Now I had only to hope the car would be registered in state, hopefully in the metro area, and that it would take place quickly. As luck would have it, we didn't have to wait long.

Wednesday morning was less than perfect as a cold front moved through and a steady rain fell all morning. With just a hint of a chill in the air, it would have been a great day to stay in bed. My normal cases were going nowhere as I waited for one of my three adventurous young cadets to bring me information of any kind on our bait car. All three had taken different routes to monitor the information, now we had only to see who's method presented results. Just after returning from lunch, we had our answer.

"Our car was registered to a new owner late yesterday," Jennifer announced as she entered my office. She carried a single sheet of paper, and seemed quite pleased with herself. "It was registered to a Ron Leaf motors over on 57^th street. I checked on it and it is a used car lot."

"Very nicely done," I told her. "Why don't you find your two companions and we'll take a ride to see just how our car is doing."

Jennifer sat in the front seat with me, as Rene and Greg pouted in the back seat. Greg had discovered the new registered owner as well, but his discovery came just as Jennifer told him about our upcoming field trip. I parked across from Ron Leaf Motors. The lot was filled with more than forty cars, mostly expensive luxury cars and a few SUV's. The rain apparently cut down on the number of car shoppers as the lot appeared abandoned. A small office sat on the far corner of the lot, and a neon sign proclaimed it to be "OPEN." As it turns out, it was Greg's turn to impress me.

"I did a little checking on the owner of the lot, and the body shop who bought our car at the auction," Greg said. "The owners are related. Brothers-in-law."

I could almost hear Jennifer hiss as she realized she had been trumped. "A family operation? That could be good, or it could make it harder on us," I said.

"Less likely a family member will roll over on another member of the family," Rene said.

"Shall we go look at our car," I said, putting the car in gear.

I pulled into the car lot and immediately saw our car, or at least what was suppose to be our car. At the end of the second row of cars was the pale blue Lexus GS300, looking as good as new. The rain drops beaded up on the shiny paint.

"Man, those body shop guys can work miracles," I said as I parked just in front of the Lexus.

"The color even matches," Jennifer said.

"Once they bought the wreck at the auction, they probably put in an order for the exact make, model, and color they wanted. They steal to order these days," I said. "No wasted time or money on a new paint job."

"Do we need a warrant to check the car for original VIN plates?" Greg asked.

"For this car, no," I answered. "We have probably cause to check, plus the fact the car is for sale and open to inspection by the public."

"So, do we check it now?" Rene asked.

"I'm betting good old brother-in-law has provided more than our one car," I said. "Let's see if a judge will give us a search warrant for the entire lot based on what we have."

Two hours later we returned with search warrant in hand, and three black and whites. Needless to say, Ron Leaf Motors was not happy to see us. During the two hour wait, I had gone over the various locations manufactures put the VIN on cars that thieves sometimes miss, or simply overlook. With this information, the threesome were anxious to get to work. After presenting Mr. Leaf with the search warrant, I turned the cadets loose and waited for the results. You would have thought I had offered a cash bounty for each stolen car found. They each ran from car to car, making notes, checking the VIN on the dash, then climbing into and under the cars searching for another VIN plate. Fortunately for them, the rain had let up and was now little more than a drizzle. It took the three just under two and a half hours to check the forty-eight cars on the lot. They even checked Ron Leaf's personal car, a late model Jag.

When all was said and done, Greg had located four suspect vehicles, Jennifer five, and Rene another six. A grand total of fifteen stolen cars on the lot, a very nice catch indeed. Another hour's worth of checking revealed all fifteen were purchased from the same body shop owned by Leaf's brother-in-law. Additional warrants were issued and detectives dispatched to the body shop. We were now looking at several days, possibly weeks, worth of checking through paperwork. Every car purchased from the body shop and sold from the lot were suspect. The new owners would have to be contacted, their cars checked, and most probably impounded as evidence. They would later be returned to the rightful owners, or to the insurance companies who had paid claims when the cars were reported stolen.

The interviews and interrogations were handled by seasoned detectives as the cadets stayed with me and monitored the investigation. By the end of our fifth day together it was obvious we had broken up a major car theft ring. There was word Ron Leaf planned to turn states evidence and identify the actual car thieves and additional parties in the ring. We had gotten somewhat lucky when the thieves kept the bait car within the city, making it much easier for us to track them. Had they been transported out of state, our little trap would not have worked. Hey, you get blamed when things go wrong and its not all your fault, so we certainly took credit for the bust, even though some luck was involved. All that was left was for me to write my recommendations. More paperwork.

I sent all three cadets back to the academy without giving them a clue what I would recommend. True, it was a bit heartless, but I have been called worse, by my friends. I filled out the forms and added my comments that would determine the course of three young lives. My recommendations were by no means final, but they did carry a certain amount of weight with my superiors, whose recommendations did count. I recommended Jennifer be placed in the advanced training program immediately. She is a bright, energetic, and resourceful person. I think she will go far. I requested Rene stay in the normal academy classes until graduation, then be moved to the advanced training program for a trial period. She showed promise, but needed a little more refining.

Greg was a tougher call. He had shown some promise as well, but was no ball of fire. Ultimately I recommend Greg for patrol duty. He will make a great street cop with a knowledge for digging out the information, and working with people. If in a few years he had moved through the ranks as I expected, he should be considered for a gold badge. A little harsh, but I think he will benefit more from the years on the street than either Rene or Jennifer.

I closed the file on the training operation and leaned back in my chair. The message button was flashing on my phone, the computer showed eighty-three new emails, I can no longer see my in-box, and the good Captain just laid four news case files on my desk. My share of that three percent of the population is sure keeping me busy.