A bad night, a sad day, a glimmer of hope

A difficult night last night.

I was on scene at the officer-involved shooting in the early evening, I was riding with the officer who was perhaps fourth or fifth to the scene.  It was, on a professional level, fascinating to hang back and watch as the Austin Police Department took control and went to work.  I was hugely impressed with their organization and professionalism, I really was.  Those in charge gave quick, clear orders and the officers went straight to work, putting up tape, setting up the perimeter, doing what they needed to do.

And they have a  lot to deal with in situations like that, they sure did last night.  As the news reports will tell you, there were a lot of very angry people in the neighborhood so while working to investigate and collect evidence related to the shooting itself, officers had to worry about their personal safety and other side matters like the huge in-rush of media.

On a personal level, it was unsettling because we were to the scene so fast.  I got to see some things that I normally only see in photos or written in reports.

And then I wake up this morning to hear that an Austin officer was shot dead as he was responding to a call, a drunk and disorderly in a Wal-Mart for heavens sake.  The officer had no chance, apparently.  I couldn't help but think that it's the kind of call that, on a ride-along, I probably wouldn't hang back much.  In fact, we had one similar, I blogged about it, which turned out to be an amusing interlude.  But it makes me realize, once again, how dangerous it can be to wear a police uniform, how a quiet night can go to hell in seconds.  I know the officer involved in the first incident last night will be deeply affected by what happened, and I know that there are two daughters who just lost their father.  We can take some heart from the individuals who tackled the suspect, their decency and bravery, but a tragic night for the Austin Police Department.

But I did want to end on a positive note.  There's reference in the news stories to the angry crowd and one woman who fainted.  From what I could see and after talking to people it seems like tension was very high (I saw the rocks they threw, the police car's broken window) when the woman passed out.  At that time, the officers were lined up in riot gear.  But as soon as she went down, the firemen on scene walked through the line and administered help to her.  I talked to them afterwards and they were clearly worried about  their safety but they went out there anyway.  Isn't that the definition of bravery, to be afraid but act anyway?  And if the news reports are right, certainly I didn't see anything to contradict this, that act of kindness and caring diffused much of the tension in the crowd.

And after a night like that, it does no harm to hang onto moments of goodness, decency, and bravery.

In defense of cops

I saw a post on my Facebook feed today from someone I consider highly intelligent and always rational. He starts by saying: "Police are evil. Don't talk to them ever. Really. Ever."

There followed a rash of comments agreeing, saying they all lie, all the time, and should never be trusted. My first reaction was intense disappointment and now I feel compelled to respond. Let me start with a few facts:

There are bad cops out there.
Some cops lie.
Some cops drink too much and beat their wives.

What puzzles me is a willingness of intelligent people like my friend to tag an entire population of human beings as evil on account of one interaction or, possibly, one YouTube video. (It's an irony, I think, that the chap lambasting cops is an attorney practicing civil law.) Anecdotal accounts of individuals acting badly are appealing in an argument but when you think about the thousands of men and women out there dealing with the public every day, under intense scrutiny, is it surprising one or two are shown up? Ten or twenty, even?

I have known cops a long time. In England I was the police reporter. A couple of them were pecker-heads, absolutely, but then I also had a lot of haircuts in England and several barbers were racist, homophobic, narrow-minded and egotistical. You'd laugh at me if I judged from that sample that all barbers (all English barbers?!) are bad human beings.

Here in the US I've worked with cops as a prosecutor and a reporter. You know what I've found? That cops are like any other professionals: some are bad, most are good. Guess which ones make it onto YouTube?

Well, you might be surprised.



Sure, there are more of bad cops but what would you expect? You think there are lots of videos of great refereeing decisions? Oh, I know what you're thinking: a bad cop can do more harm than a nasty barber or a bad referee. Yes, but my point isn't that broad: it's that we shouldn't judge an entire profession by a limited few. One might even think of that as prejudice.

I sat alongside an officer two weeks ago in my ride-along. We were called to a grocery store where a man was causing problems, the management didn't want him there. The officer located this man, in his sixties and probably drunk, and spent 20 minutes just talking to him, calming him down, let him vent. He'd smoked weed with Willie Nelson and played guitar with REO Speedwagon, had a million beautiful babes throw themselves at him, he told us. This officer not once made fun, belittled, harassed or abused this old fellow, instead asking questions about his music, his travels. When the diatribe was over, he gently steered him off the property and towards his home, explaining that he wasn't allowed back on the property. Not threatening, explaining. And that was that.

This cop, by the way, is a former marine and a member of the SWAT team, just the kind of cop people love to hate. But he used patience and kindness that night, and not just because they were his best weapons but because they were a part of his human decency, a decency I've seen not just in him but in many cops. My own brother, for example.

I don't suppose I'll change a lot of minds by writing this, even my evidentiary use of YouTube is just one more anecdote in the swirl of tales but I'm not really writing this to change the minds of people who've decided to hate cops. As much as anything, I write this in the hope that some who are mistrustful will rethink their positions, just a little, and in the hope that a police officer will stumble across it and know that there are many of us out there who trust them to do the right thing, the right way. Make no mistake, I'm at the front of the line when a cop goes bad, but I don't start from a place where I assume that from the get-go.

After all, if things suddenly get dangerous, when your world goes to hell in a hand-basket and someone's trying to do you harm, who do you call? Your minister? Your grocer? Your barber? No, you call the same people I'd call, the people willing to put themselves in harm's way to protect you.

And in my experience, 99 percent of cops will do so, 100 percent of the time.

I've loved you for a thousand years...

... no, nothing, it's just I can't get that song out of my head. Hopefully if I put it in yours, I'll be free. If you don't know the song, well, I dare you to click here.

So I had my second ride-along last week, and had some pretty funny moments I thought I'd share.

The first was when my officer was talking earnestly to a couple of people by the side of the road. Just for giggles I thought I'd freak him out a little, so while his back was turned I put the car in reverse and then eased away from him, about 30 yards. When he saw where his car was he did a triple take and came sprinting over, all arms and legs.  But he looked mighty relieved when his donut was still atop his in-car computer and he even managed to smile a little. But he did tell me to take the hand-brake off next time I move his car.

Which I did about an hour later. He was talking to a drunk fellow who kept staggering away from the police car so I did the opposite of the first: I drove it up real close behind him and then hit the button for the siren. You should have seen the pair of them jump!  Hilarious.

And back at the office, a couple of developments.  One initiative coming out of juvie court relates to bullying and inappropriate behavior between kids.  One day a week for the fall semester, all kids in Austin schools will dress as the opposite gender.  Boys will have to wear skirts or dresses, girls will have to wear "masculine" trousers and shirts.  Even shoes.   At recess, boys will play organized hop-scotch and the girls flag football.   The idea is to have each gender get a better understanding of what it's like to be on the 'other' side.

The best news is that there's a surplus in the county budget so in order to use it up (something about needing to use it up or the federal govt won't give us certain grants again) they're telling us prosecutors we can leave our cars at home and the county will send taxis to take us to work every morning.  pretty cool, eh?  And good for the environment because they're using a fleet of electric cars.  I wonder if we have to tip the drivers every morning?  That could get expensive.

Finally, and back to schools, what do you get when you mix education and electricity? Yes, tasers in schools!  Apparently it's part motivational but once a month at Austin schools, certain kids not deemed to be trying hard enough academically will be given the opportunity to volunteer to be tased in front of their class mates.  In exchange, their grades are all moved up one letter.  Sounded weird to me at first, but I can see how other kids might be motivated by it.  And it's kind of a second chance for the kid being tased - he gets his grades restored a little.



And, in case it got by you, happy April Fool's Day.

Hail to the Emperor!

A light moment in court today. The judge was swearing in a witness, asking her to promise to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. And, in accordance with tradition, the witness held her hand aloft and took in the judge's words. When he'd finished, tradition was abandoned for a moment, perhaps elevated:

"Do you, Willamina Witness, swear.. blah blah blah...?"
"I do swear to. . . " Pause. "Yes, Cesar."

Silence descended on the courtroom, then the judged looked around and smiled. "Well, I've never been called Cesar before."

A giggle was had by all.

Turns out the young lady had started to recite the entire oath and her lawyer had whispered in her ear: "Saying 'yes' is easier."

Which she heard as, "Say 'Yes, Cesar'."

So she did.

The final puzzle piece.

Or, put another way, how an author goes from having an agent to having an actual book. This author, specifically.

But first, a plug for a fellow prosecutor, blogger, and author. Her name is Allison Leotta and her second novel comes out in July. Her first, Law of Attraction, is released today in paperback. Today, how timely is that?! She's already on my blogroll so check her out, maybe see if there's room on your shelves for a new paperback. Oh, and here's the cover (since I can't show you mine yet):


Now then, back to me. We established in the previous segment that it took about six months to snag my agent. Well, it took a lot longer to snag a publisher. The business move at molasses pace and agents typically submit to publishers in groupings, three to five, at which point you sit and wait for responses. I got some good ones from some of the biggest publishers in the business, including:

• this is a very well-written, sophisticated murder mystery and no one can argue with the fabulous setting. Pryor does a very nice job setting up the suspense and keeping the narrative moving swiftly.
• the writing was good and I found it to be wonderfully evocative in its description of Paris and what makes the city so interesting and beautiful.

But ultimately they all passed and Ann went on the hunt once more. I think from the time I signed with her, it took almost two years to find a publisher for The Bookseller. But what's cool is that she found one who really, really likes my books. Not only did he want The Bookseller, but also the sequel (The Crypt Thief) and the third, which I have yet to finish.

That is even better, to me, than having a one-book deal with a huge publishing house because I know that whatever happens, however the first one sells, two more will hit the shelves. A lot of authors get dropped if their first book doesn't do well but it looks to me like Seventh Street Books is in it for the long haul. I am eternally grateful, and eternally optimistic.

As for the process, well, what happens after you sign is that the wheels of production begin to turn, and each revolution feels to me (and to other authors I've spoken to) like the turn of Ferris Wheel - incremental, but incredibly exciting. After each contact with a copy-editor, marketing whiz, or art person I think, "Wow, this is really happening!" Yeah, I know, a grizzled prosecutor turns into a giddy schoolgirl. But you know what? I'm happy to do so.

As of now, we're finalizing the cover, the marketing blurb is being tweaked, and I'm joining International Thriller Writers, Inc.

Release date looks like being in the fall of this year, nothing set in stone as yet. But don't worry, when I get a firm date you'll be among the first to know. But of course.

On the mean streets of Austin

So it happened, I had my first ride-along on Thursday night.  I began at five in the afternoon and went through the end of the shift, at midnight.  Here are some observations.

1.  You know how, when you speed, you eyeball cars stopped at the side of the road to make sure they aren't cop cars?  You know, you tap the brakes until you're sure it's just someone broken down or out of gas, maybe an abandoned vehicle.  Well, guess what?  You still do it when you're riding in a cop car!  Yep, we'd be cruising along and I'd check out cars parked facing the road, then realize, Hey!  I'm in the cop car!  Sorry, "unit."

2.  Texting is dangerous.  You know how I know?  There we are, tootling along a downtown street and I look to my right, into the car of the woman driving beside us.  She's texting while driving beside a police car, which, as you can tell by my outrage, is not allowed in Austin.  Be clear: my outrage is not at the fact that she was breaking the law, but that texting is so obviously distracting that she didn't even see the cop car beside her.  Honestly, that moment (looong moment) really crystallized how absorbing texting must be if she had no idea we were there.

3.  People are funny.  Take, for example, the old boy (picture a gold prospector or sheriff's sidekick in a western movie) who told us all about the band he was in, the $250,000 he was being paid next week for playing at the White House, the weed he smoked with Willie Nelson last week.  He was the band's drummer, he said, then proceeded to sing through whistling teeth some unrecognizable song.  My cop (okay, I don't own him he just kept me safe all night) listened politely, respectfully, and nodded along.  (I, on the other hand, wanted to respond to the singing with, "No wonder you're the band's drummer.")

4.  Police officers can hold entire conversations in numbers.  Seriously, they don't even know they are doing it.  The Sgt. emailed me before the ride-along and said to "21 her when I got to the sub."  In some alternative communities, I'm lead to believe that's quite an invitation.  Turns out she just wanted me to call her when I got to the station.

Well, that's all for now.  Any questions?  I'll be riding every week so I don't want to 86 my 91s.  Or 22 my 38s.  Whatever, you know what I mean.

Aspen - where even the criminals are polite

I don't know if I've mentioned this before, very probably, but my brother is the police chief in Aspen, Colorado. (Amusing side note: he's a very law-abiding, serious, white Englishman by the name of Richard Pryor. And he rarely sets fire to himself.) We've talked many times about the differences between crime in a place like that and a larger metro area like Austin, but this little nugget came to me over the radio this morning and not from him:

A drunk in Aspen stole a bike to get home, then left it on the courthouse steps with a note of apology. The owner, delighted to have it back, had no interest in pressing charges. Full story here. That the thief (borrower may be a better term) signed it "Drunk" makes it that much better.

Tomorrow night my ride-along begins, so Friday I hope to have an interesting tale or two to share. And if I get the result of ADA John Hunt's "Bite Me" case, I'll let you know that, too. Hopefully if he loses he won't be in the dog house...

EDITED TO ADD:  Guilty.  Great work, John Hunt.  And the story by your local newshound (hehe) Steven Kreytak is right here.