Faulkner
Member
I can’t stand senseless and unmitigated vandalism. To me it’s a total disrespect and disregard of others. In most cases it’s young people just “having fun”, you know things like mail box bashing and spray painting their girlfriend’s name on the water tower or spray painting their ex-girlfriend’s name and what they did with her on the local railroad over pass. This “fun” can typically cost property owners or tax payers a few hundred bucks to fix or clean up. In my 23 years in law enforcement I don’t recall that I’ve ever caught a mailbox basher in the act.
In many cases, though, vandalism is more than just giggles and grins and can cost property owners thousands of dollars and cause significant harm to others. I know of one instance where a John Deere tractor was rolled out into the roadway in the middle of the night as “just something to do” where it was hit by a thirty-two year old nurse returning home from a shift at the ER and killed her. Turned out not to be so funny after all.
We’ve had a bit of a mysterious crime spree in our little corner of paradise of late where someone has been shooting the glass out of cars and trucks with a small caliber firearm. We’re not talking about a few vehicles, since June sheriff’s deputies and the small town PD in a particular corner of the county have taken 63 reports of vehicles having their glass shot. We’re pretty sure the primary firearm is a pellet gun of some type because we’ve been able to recover a few .177 caliber pellets. Typically these have been occurring so that victims come out to their vehicle in the morning and find their glass shot, so we know they’re happening overnight. Otherwise, we’ve just not had any clues, witnesses, or informants tipping us off. It’s gotten to be such a big deal in the general area that folks are putting out CCTV or game cameras hoping to get a glimpse of a person or a vehicle indicating who might be doing this, but as we continue to get reports all through the summer we’ve not gotten a single break in the case.
We finally got the break we needed. It was a Friday evening and my wife and I were at the local high school football game sitting in the stands with some friends. Around the start of the 2nd quarter I received a text message from one of our rookie deputies who knew I was off duty.
“Can you talk?” the text read.
“Stand by one,” I sent back.
I told my wife I had to make a call and slipped out of the stands and through the crowd to a relatively quiet place where I could hear and called the deputy back.
“What’s up?” I asked when he answered.
“I got a 17 year old kid pulled over on a traffic stop. Last name *Simpson (fictional name for this narrative), has an address up on Ball Hill. You know him?”
I had to think a minute, “I may know is dad, ask him if his father’s name is Robert?”
I listened to a muffled question on the other end of the phone and then the deputy came back and said, “yeah, that’s him.”
“Okay, so what’s the problem?”
“Faulkner, I think this kid is our vehicle shooter,” he said.
“Where do you have him stopped at?” He told me he was about half a mile west of the high school.
“Hang tight, I’m at the ballgame, I can be there in less than five minutes.” As I headed to my car I sent my wife a text message telling her I had to run and asked if she could find a ride home in case I didn’t get back before the end of the game.
“No problem, be careful,” was the message she sent back about the time I was unlocking my car. She’s such a trooper.
I arrived at the traffic stop scene is short order and the deputy walked up to me as I was getting out of my car. He explained that he’d made the traffic stop because the black Chevy pickup truck has what looked like fresh damage to the front right area, the headlight was out, the fender smashed in, and the bumper was sagging almost to the ground. The probable cause for the initial traffic stop was the headlight out. After he asked the young man for his license, registration, and proof of insurance he asked him what happened to the front end of his truck. The young fellow was acting very nervous and didn’t really give a consistent story as to what happened or when.
“So what makes you think he’s our shooter?” I asked.
“Well, it’s kind of weak, but when the kid reached over to the glove box to get his paperwork I shined my light in the truck and there’s a pellet in the carpet on the hump. I saw it plain as day.”
“Just one pellet?”
He kind of shrugged his shoulders and replied, “I told you it was weak, but I’m telling you the kid is way more nervous than he should be and he can’t seem to get his story straight on the fender damage. Something is hinky here.”
“Who is the vehicle registered to?” I asked
“His father.”
“Okay,” I said, “let’s go talk to him for a minute. Since I don’t have a body cam take a step back to make sure your body cam gets the whole scene.”
I walked up to just behind the driver’s window where he had to turn to look at me. “Hey Johnny (*not his real name), do you know who I am?”
“Yes sir, Deputy Faulkner, my dad knows you.”
“Okay, Johnny, something is not adding up here. Does your dad know about the front end damage to the truck?
His eyes went wide, I don’t think he expected me to ask that question. “Yes sir, I think so.”
“So if I called and asked him he would know about it, because you’re not giving us a straight story.”
“I’m pretty sure he might know,” he answered.
“How about I call him and ask.”
“What business is it of yours whether he knows or not.” Yeah, I see what the rookie deputy was talking about, this kid is nervous.
I just stood there and stared at him for about ten seconds. I’m sure it seemed like a long time to him as he starred back, then dropped his eyes.
“Johnny, you know I’m not stupid, we just need to figure out how this is going to play out. If you play stupid with me it will go much harder on you. You’re caught and you know it and I know it. Where we go from here will determine how much more trouble you’re going to get into.”
He looked back up at me, “I . . . I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Johnny, I want the pellet gun and I want it now. This thing is over.”
Tears burst from his eyes and he put a forearm on the steering wheel and placed his head on his arm. “Oh God, my dad is going to kill me . . . “
I let him sniffle for half a minute or so then asked, “where is it Johnny?”
“It’s, it’s behind the seat,” he sobbed.
I let him calm down and wipe the snot coming from his nose and then asked him, “are you ready to come clean on this?”
“I guess so.”
“Okay, let’s get out of the truck.” As soon as he stepped out I turned to the rookie deputy and told him to Mirandize him.
You never can be too careful with juveniles and I wanted this case to be tight so I asked the deputy to retrieve the pellet gun since I wasn’t wearing a body cam. Sure enough, it was there, with a box of .177 caliber pellets.
I turned the situation over to the deputy and got back to the game in time to watch the 4th quarter.
In many cases, though, vandalism is more than just giggles and grins and can cost property owners thousands of dollars and cause significant harm to others. I know of one instance where a John Deere tractor was rolled out into the roadway in the middle of the night as “just something to do” where it was hit by a thirty-two year old nurse returning home from a shift at the ER and killed her. Turned out not to be so funny after all.
We’ve had a bit of a mysterious crime spree in our little corner of paradise of late where someone has been shooting the glass out of cars and trucks with a small caliber firearm. We’re not talking about a few vehicles, since June sheriff’s deputies and the small town PD in a particular corner of the county have taken 63 reports of vehicles having their glass shot. We’re pretty sure the primary firearm is a pellet gun of some type because we’ve been able to recover a few .177 caliber pellets. Typically these have been occurring so that victims come out to their vehicle in the morning and find their glass shot, so we know they’re happening overnight. Otherwise, we’ve just not had any clues, witnesses, or informants tipping us off. It’s gotten to be such a big deal in the general area that folks are putting out CCTV or game cameras hoping to get a glimpse of a person or a vehicle indicating who might be doing this, but as we continue to get reports all through the summer we’ve not gotten a single break in the case.
We finally got the break we needed. It was a Friday evening and my wife and I were at the local high school football game sitting in the stands with some friends. Around the start of the 2nd quarter I received a text message from one of our rookie deputies who knew I was off duty.
“Can you talk?” the text read.
“Stand by one,” I sent back.
I told my wife I had to make a call and slipped out of the stands and through the crowd to a relatively quiet place where I could hear and called the deputy back.
“What’s up?” I asked when he answered.
“I got a 17 year old kid pulled over on a traffic stop. Last name *Simpson (fictional name for this narrative), has an address up on Ball Hill. You know him?”
I had to think a minute, “I may know is dad, ask him if his father’s name is Robert?”
I listened to a muffled question on the other end of the phone and then the deputy came back and said, “yeah, that’s him.”
“Okay, so what’s the problem?”
“Faulkner, I think this kid is our vehicle shooter,” he said.
“Where do you have him stopped at?” He told me he was about half a mile west of the high school.
“Hang tight, I’m at the ballgame, I can be there in less than five minutes.” As I headed to my car I sent my wife a text message telling her I had to run and asked if she could find a ride home in case I didn’t get back before the end of the game.
“No problem, be careful,” was the message she sent back about the time I was unlocking my car. She’s such a trooper.
I arrived at the traffic stop scene is short order and the deputy walked up to me as I was getting out of my car. He explained that he’d made the traffic stop because the black Chevy pickup truck has what looked like fresh damage to the front right area, the headlight was out, the fender smashed in, and the bumper was sagging almost to the ground. The probable cause for the initial traffic stop was the headlight out. After he asked the young man for his license, registration, and proof of insurance he asked him what happened to the front end of his truck. The young fellow was acting very nervous and didn’t really give a consistent story as to what happened or when.
“So what makes you think he’s our shooter?” I asked.
“Well, it’s kind of weak, but when the kid reached over to the glove box to get his paperwork I shined my light in the truck and there’s a pellet in the carpet on the hump. I saw it plain as day.”
“Just one pellet?”
He kind of shrugged his shoulders and replied, “I told you it was weak, but I’m telling you the kid is way more nervous than he should be and he can’t seem to get his story straight on the fender damage. Something is hinky here.”
“Who is the vehicle registered to?” I asked
“His father.”
“Okay,” I said, “let’s go talk to him for a minute. Since I don’t have a body cam take a step back to make sure your body cam gets the whole scene.”
I walked up to just behind the driver’s window where he had to turn to look at me. “Hey Johnny (*not his real name), do you know who I am?”
“Yes sir, Deputy Faulkner, my dad knows you.”
“Okay, Johnny, something is not adding up here. Does your dad know about the front end damage to the truck?
His eyes went wide, I don’t think he expected me to ask that question. “Yes sir, I think so.”
“So if I called and asked him he would know about it, because you’re not giving us a straight story.”
“I’m pretty sure he might know,” he answered.
“How about I call him and ask.”
“What business is it of yours whether he knows or not.” Yeah, I see what the rookie deputy was talking about, this kid is nervous.
I just stood there and stared at him for about ten seconds. I’m sure it seemed like a long time to him as he starred back, then dropped his eyes.
“Johnny, you know I’m not stupid, we just need to figure out how this is going to play out. If you play stupid with me it will go much harder on you. You’re caught and you know it and I know it. Where we go from here will determine how much more trouble you’re going to get into.”
He looked back up at me, “I . . . I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Johnny, I want the pellet gun and I want it now. This thing is over.”
Tears burst from his eyes and he put a forearm on the steering wheel and placed his head on his arm. “Oh God, my dad is going to kill me . . . “
I let him sniffle for half a minute or so then asked, “where is it Johnny?”
“It’s, it’s behind the seat,” he sobbed.
I let him calm down and wipe the snot coming from his nose and then asked him, “are you ready to come clean on this?”
“I guess so.”
“Okay, let’s get out of the truck.” As soon as he stepped out I turned to the rookie deputy and told him to Mirandize him.
You never can be too careful with juveniles and I wanted this case to be tight so I asked the deputy to retrieve the pellet gun since I wasn’t wearing a body cam. Sure enough, it was there, with a box of .177 caliber pellets.
I turned the situation over to the deputy and got back to the game in time to watch the 4th quarter.
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The expression on his face was priceless.
