Page 38 of Truly, Madly, Deeply
Tommy noticed the bars on the window. “Are those new? I haven’t seen that before.”
“You’d be surprised how easily a suspect can kick out a window. The bars protect us and the suspect.”
At the top of the inside roofline, the detective pointedout a compact printer. “We run off tickets right here in the vehicle. That keeps the simple traffic infractions legible and quick. Much nicer than a handwritten ticket.”
The ride-along started with basic patrol time. “We check out the city’s most crime-ridden areas, looking for victims in need of assistance. Sometimes we pick up a drug dealer or two. But as soon as we get a call, that takes precedence.”
Detective Lockwood cruised from the station to Haughville, one of the most crime-ridden neighborhoods in Indianapolis, he told Tommy. “We have an epidemic of drugs and gang activity in this area. A police presence here is critical.”
In recent weeks, Tommy had done his research about the IMPD. The last officer killed in the line of duty had been in 2014, and a number of others had lost their lives in the decade before that. Beyond that were a number of high profile cases from around the country where police officers were convicted of murder because their wrongful actions resulted in the death of a suspect.
The job was incredibly tough, and not all cops were good. Tommy knew that.
But considering the way many big-city communities had turned on their police departments, the IMPD still had a fairly good relationship with its citizens.
Even in the toughest areas.
A few years ago the department hosted a lip-sync challenge to a Justin Timberlake song, and nearly a hundredcommunity members took part in the video. The resulting YouTube clip only further improved relations with the city.
But here in Haughville, Tommy couldn’t imagine many of the residents were thrilled to see a police car coming their way. Sure enough, a few minutes later Detective Lockwood radioed for backup. “See that.” He nodded to a trio of old-model sedans in a parking lot overrun with weeds. “Drug deal going down for sure.”
Tommy had read the rules for a ride-along with the IMPD. If a dangerous situation presented itself, the officer conducting the ride-along was encouraged to take their citizen passenger to a safe location, if possible. Tommy doubted there was such a thing in Haughville.
“We’ll come at them from a side street and keep a low profile. You’ll stay in the car.” The detective had his radio in his hand. He was in constant contact with dispatch and after a few minutes, three patrol cars joined them. In letters and number codes Tommy didn’t know or understand, a plan was made. Two other officers took the lead and surprised the drug deal, and in a rush of action three men were in custody.
“We’ve been looking for two of those guys all year.” Detective Lockwood smiled when he was back in the car. His forehead was damp with sweat. “Someone’s daughter… someone’s son. They won’t get a drug buy tonight. Might save a life.”
If he could, Tommy would’ve given all four officers involved in the bust a round of applause. A year ago oneof his basketball buddies lost an older brother to a heroin overdose. Tommy had a theory about drug dealers and users. The dealers should serve a decade minimum. Maybe more. Something severe enough to make people think twice about selling drugs for a living.
The users should get a mandatory three years in a lockdown rehab facility.
Tommy had written a paper on it after the death of his teammate’s brother. Hard prison time for the dealers to cut off supply, and forced help for the user—to remove the demand. He got an A on the paper, but if he got a job with the police department, he could work to see his ideas become reality.
After the arrests in Haughville, an emergency call came in. Children in danger at a home near East Thirty-fourth and Sutherland Avenue. Another area Tommy and his friends avoided—especially after dark.
Tommy watched from the passenger seat of the squad car as Detective Lockwood approached a shirtless man stumbling near the front porch of a dilapidated house. “Them are my children!” No question the man was drunk. Or maybe on drugs.
Again backup had been called, and another two cars appeared on the scene at the same time as the angry citizen noticed Detective Lockwood.
“No!” The shirtless man was losing his shorts, but he didn’t seem to notice. He pulled a knife from his pocket and waved it at the detective. With his other hand he made something that looked like a gang sign. Tommycouldn’t tell. Then without warning the man began running down the street.
Other officers were out of their cars by then and suddenly a chase was under way. Tommy couldn’t believe it. The action was playing out on the sidewalk right in front of him. Detective Lockwood might’ve been in his forties, but he was faster than lightning. During the chase, even from the police car Tommy could see the man shove a small plastic bag into his mouth. He rolled down the window so he could hear better.
At the same time, Detective Lockwood reached the suspect and handcuff him.
Tommy wasn’t sure what had happened to the knife.
“Spit it out, man.” Detective Lockwood shouted. “That stuff will kill you.”
Another officer reached the scene and Detective Lockwood shouted. “He has the drugs in his mouth.” He turned to the suspect again. “I said spit it out! I’m begging you, man. Don’t kill yourself.”
Finally the man spit the plastic bag from between his teeth. The other two officers took the suspect to one of the waiting patrol cars. Tommy watched the detective jog back to the house and up the steps. He knocked on the door. “Police. Open up.”
Tommy was gripped by the scene. What had happened inside the house? Detective Lockwood knocked a few more times, announcing himself again and again. Finally he tried the door. It must’ve been unlocked because the detective hurried inside.
A minute later, on the radio, Tommy heard Detective Lockwood call for an ambulance. Maybe two minutes after that, the detective walked out of the house. He had a little boy on his hip and a baby cradled in his other arm. He handed the infant to a female officer who had just arrived on the scene, but the toddler stayed with him.
The child was sobbing, crying so hard Tommy could easily hear him. But the detective—one of the toughest men in the precinct according to Tommy’s father—held the child to his chest and whispered to him until the boy stopped crying. An ambulance showed up and paramedics rushed into the house and then back out with a woman on a stretcher.
