Just One Shift: The Police Files

By Catherine Marfino-Reiker

In this gripping new non-fiction novel from Catherine Marfino-Reiker,
author of 999 Officer Down, a veteran police officer is driven to the brink of mental collapse.
J U S T O N E S H I F T
delves deep into the mind of a big city street cop as he confronts one impossible situation after another during the busiest shift of his career. An intense recounting, which discloses the officers thought process as he makes repetitive, split-second, life and death decisions that have life-long effects on the people involved.
This candid summation of a ten-hour evening shift takes him from the totally ridiculous and laughable to the intensely outrageous and, at times, even gruesome. The senseless murder of a young girl pushes him beyond his emotional limits. He begins to question his own abilities, and regresses to memories of a period 10 years earlier. When he finally believes he can regain his sanity, another explosive incident occurs, thrusting him to a level of uncontrollable exhaustion.
These heart-warming and tragic moments will generate feelings of sympathy and compassion never before associated with a law enforcement officer.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Jul 24, 2002
• ISBN: 9781469739052

Catherine Marfino-Reiker

With the release of her first book, 999 Officer Down, Catherine Marfino-Reiker established herself as a master of non-fiction. With her contiguous ties to the law enforcement community, her emotionally charged stories will have the reader swiftly turning the pages of this Must Read Book!

Book preview

Contents

Acknowledgements

Introduction

 1 

 2 

 3 

 4 

 5 

 6 

 7 

 8 

 9 

10

11

12

13

14

15

16

17

Epilogue

AbouttheAuthor

This book is dedicated to our 21st century American Heroes! Each and every police officer andfirefighter, whose life was lost in the atrocious tragedy of September 11, 2001 as well as those who survived to face another day. Their bravery andcourage will never beforgotten. The spirit the deceased left behind will not onlyguide theirfamilies and loved ones, but will be a beacon ofinspiration for people to remember throughout history.

And, the spirit ofthose who endured the attack will serve as a reminder to the world ofthe strength, love andfortitude of these extremely brave men and women who, no matter what the odds, continued their struggle and beliefin thefreedoms afforded in this great country!

May God have mercy on the souls of those departed and watch over, protect and bless those who are still with us.

Acknowledgements

With sincere appreciation and love to the most important people in my life!

Russ: there wouldn’t be stories to write without you! I could never find the words to express how much you mean to me.

Nicole and Tina: you are always there for me! What more could a mother ask for than to be blessed with two daughters who have become her best friends? What brighter ray of sunshine could anyone have given me than Katie and Haylee?

Joel: my computer answer-man! You must be sick of my questions, but you remain considerate and loving enough not to say so. I do appreciate your help.

Bev: if I could take every characteristic I believe is important to create a friend—she would be you. Your understanding and encouragement are appreciated more than I could ever tell you!

Introduction

The events that make up the story you are about to read are the combined incidents in the life of a police officer during one long, terrible shift. Officers throughout the country experience similar situations in their every day routines. Sometimes the circumstances are not as intense or occurring in such rapid sequence, however, sometimes they are even more passionate.

Law enforcement officers are instructed to be emotionless when dealing with the most ghastly, life-changing events a human being can experience, and for them these instances are routine. They are expected to maintain their professionalism and courtesy at all times. On most occasions, these officers return home completely exhausted with an order to return to court with little or no rest. When in court, their every thought is scrutinized under the microscope of the judicial system. If they falter, they are condemned as liars and incompetents without delay. Their every word, whether written or spoken, is analyzed and dissected for the benefit of the accused. If the officer is not broken during this duress, another court will look at their performance again, and this time with no opportunity for them to defend what they have done.

They are paid an average wage and are expected to place their lives in the pathway of death without question or delay. Should they fail, the average citizen is quick to revile them, racing to hire attorneys to file their lawsuit. A quick response and immediate closure is expected and nothing less is tolerated of these men and women who wear a badge. When they cannot live up to the standards of expectation, they are humiliated in our newspapers and on our televisions.

When a person fails in their civic responsibilities to law and order, their loved ones attest to their innocence, yet at the same time, the unfairness and prejudice toward our police is proclaimed for all to hear. It is a profession that only the strong-willed could tolerate and the morally bankrupt will always denounce. It is truly an act of God that any individual would be willing to carry this burden and take the oath to serve andprotect.

 1 

Street cops in every city of our great country, no matter where, have the same problems and complaints, especially those who work the afternoon/evening shifts. It never fails, every time they plan to get something done in the morning, whether it’s just a few hours set aside to spend with the kids or some mundane household chore, something will happen to screw it up. Most often it’s a last minute subpoena requiring them to be in court by 8:00AM, which usually follows an evening when they were held over on their shift and didn’t get home and into bed until 3:00AM or later.

They shouldn’t complain. They knew from the start they wouldn’t be working banker’s hours! It’s sad though for those who have children, because cop’s kids often wonder if daddy is merely some guy that sleeps in their house and eats the leftovers that mom was saving for their lunch. Of course, young children think daddy’s uniform is cool, that is, when they actually get to see him as they return home from school and dad’s running out the door to avoid being late for briefing.

Russ Reiker has been a Phoenix Police officer for thirteen years. The six foot tall officer is thirty-eight years old and has been married since he was nineteen. He has been working security during his off-duty hours for the last nine years. Without this extra income his wife would be forced to work full-time. She currently has a part-time job, which enables her to be home with the kids in the morning before school and when they return from school in the afternoon. They have three children, two teenage daughters and a pre-teen son. Having his wife home with the children is important to Russ because his schedule right now means that he’s working most of the time when the kids are home, including weekends and most holidays. At least they are assured that one parent is there for them. Dad can always be contacted at work for emergencies. It is a well-known fact that police departments spare no efforts for their officers when an emergency strikes their family.

Russ’ briefing starts promptly at 3:30 every day in a small room. The Phoenix Police Department staggers the start times of the different squads working the afternoon shift by thirty-minutes. When one squad leaves the station to begin their duty on the street, another is just beginning their briefing. This is done until all the squads coming on duty replace those officers going off duty from the day shift, who also leave at half hour intervals. It is done this way to ensure that there are always officers on the street, ready to respond to any disaster that may arise during shift change. There are many geniuses in prison, who thought they could rob a bank during a precinct’s afternoon shift change and get away clean. When they were planning their heist, they never took into consideration that patrol officers now work ten-hour shifts. This ensures that at about the time all the banks are closing, there are twice as many cops on the street, due to an overlap time of several hours by the first and second shifts.

Being assigned to work second shift is almost like a celebrated ritual that is the defining moment on whether or not a new officer will make it as cop in a large city such as Phoenix, Arizona. It’s where all the action is, is a phrase often heard from the old Salts, those officers who have been around long enough to get a day shift assignment with weekends off, where they will remain until they retire.

The exception to a seasoned officer remaining on day shift is when a department has rotating shifts, in which case shift assignments change every few months regardless of seniority. With few exceptions, old Salts have no more desire to go out and do aggressive police work than their younger counterparts have to get up and go to traffic court after only four hours sleep. These officers are respected though. They’ve paid their dues and they never let anyone forget it. As the second-shift officers walk into the station in the afternoon the older guys are usually trying to see if their sergeant is in his office, hoping they’ll be lucky and get to sneak out a few minutes early. Their usual greeting is something like, Hey Rookie, get in there and get to work. I’m tired of making you look good!

Yeah, right, the young officer will think and then choke back the words so they’re not offended. The old-timers working days take drinking coffee to the status of an Olympic event, while the younger officers working second shift are lucky when they have an opportunity for a dinner break, never mind a coffee break.

Most experienced cops really do enjoy working the afternoon shift. However, for those officers working this shift the odds are greater of facing life-altering events. The sheer number of calls to which they respond guarantees they will confront something that will remain with them forever. Yet, Russ would still tell anyone interested that this shift was never dull, the time just flew by and he didn’t mind working it.

Driving into the precinct parking lot begins a ritual that every officer becomes familiar with in a relatively short period of time. Like many officers, Russ doesn’t like to wear his uniform on the drive to work. The last thing a cop wants is to have some lowlife he arrested, recognize him and write down his license plate number. It wouldn’t take much effort or time to learn exactly where he lives when license information is available. But having to dress at the precinct has always presented some problems. Remembering to always have clean uniforms in the locker and, more importantly, allowing enough time to get dressed and into the briefing room before the sergeant did could be tedious.

The two most chronic problems were forgetting to pick up shirts at the cleaners, and not allowing enough time to polish shoes. Hopefully, the sergeant would be in the same boat, or it wasn’t the time of month for a uniform inspection, when he notes his observations in the mandatory notebook kept on each officer he supervises.

Unless some big event occurred earlier in the day, the locker room during shift change was usually very quiet. If something big went down

then it would be buzzing, and the details would usually be exaggerated tenfold.

It was very different when shift two was getting off and third shift was coming on. The midnight crew always knew that the dispatchers ran the second shift officers into the ground and they were probably exhausted. These night owls were always supportive and interested in hearing what happened during the earlier shift before they hit the street. Its police cooperation and communication at its best, and every department has it.

Once dressed and ready to enter the briefing room, there was one more critical thing each officer had to do: get a car. The desk personnel, who inventory everything in the station from coffee cups to toilet paper, usually assign them. After a few short weeks on the job, Russ noticed that if an officer sucks up well enough he/she might even get a car that hadn’t been vomited or bled in by some prisoner during the preceding shift. Since there was never time to get it washed, they would have to live with whatever body fluids were left behind.

For Russ, briefing was going to start in a few minutes. Several day shift sergeants had returned to the station early, probably because they wanted to relay some important information to the second shift officers. Russ and his two closest friends on this squad, Hector Gonzales and Ernie Weiss, hurried to get into the briefing room before their sergeant arrived.

Hector and Ernie had both been cops almost as long as Russ. You could tell they were in sync with each other just by watching them together. It may have been because they all had similar work ethics.

Ernie was single now. He had recently gone through a messy divorce from his wife of twelve years. They had two sons and his wife had custody of them. Ernie was now trying desperately to get transferred to a squad that had weekends off so he’d be able to spend more time with the boys. In reality, it would probably be several more years before he could accomplish it. He never let his intensity for the job be affected by his personal problems.

When he put his uniform on he was in the zone, and there were no distractions. He was meticulous in the upkeep of his uniform and his leather gun belt shone as brilliantly as his spit-shined shoes. His brass badge and nametag had been polished so often that his name was almost illegible. Everyone teased him about that, and whenever some jerk got pissed off and threatened to file a complaint against him, he would make sure the idiot had the opportunity to attempt to read his name tag. If anyone else actually took time to think about it, they’d realize Ernie did get a lot fewer complaints than the rest of the squad.

Hector was the biggest of the three guys, well over six feet tall and in excess of two hundred and twenty pounds. His mere presence on a difficult call seemed to have a calming effect on whoever looked at him. Rarely, if ever, was he heard raising his voice to anyone. Hector was probably the direct opposite of Russ in demeanor on a tough call.

Being such a low-keyed kind of guy, who never seemed to let anything bother him, was a never-ending issue between him and his fellow squad members. They’d tease him good heartedly about having ice water running through his veins instead ofblood. He would walk into the most terrifying crime scene and, to anyone observing him, would appear no different than when he walked into briefing each afternoon.

All the guys would ask his wife if he was that way at home and the answer was always the same. She claimed that in their fifteen years of marriage they had never really had an argument that turned into a screaming match. When he got mad he’s just walk away from her until he cooled down. Sometimes I have to pinch his nose to see if he’s breathing, she would regularly respond with a laugh.

They also had two kids and Hector was always open to discussion about their activities. His face would glow with love and pride whenever he talked about them and he loved telling the guys about their antics in school or how well they were doing.

Hector came from a very poor family and had grown up in a small, but clean, home in a deteriorating neighborhood. The littlest things

would always make him smile, like someone who would insist on paying for his coffee in the break room.

One day, several months earlier, the sergeant came into briefing with the keys to a brand new car that had just been delivered and readied by the mechanics. It was going to be the first time anyone would be driving it. Because Russ had led the squad in felony arrests the preceding month, the sarge gave him the keys. Most sergeants thought it was pretty cool to reward their men whenever they had an opportunity like that. As Russ took the keys, he glanced at Hector with his usual calming face and thought, Hector was there to help me with damn near everyone I put in jail last month.

Without hesitation, he said, Here catch, Hector! You deserve this as much as I do, possibly more so! as he threw Hector the keys.

Hector caught the keys and his grin reminded Russ of a small kid on Christmas when he gets his first bicycle. Just seeing his smile lit a fire under the rest of the squad. This squad had bonded extremely well together. They all seemed to be operating on the same wave-length, including Sergeant Sellers, and that was very rare.

 2 

3:30 PM

The officers entered briefing not knowing what to expect. They knew they were going to hear details of all the big deals that occurred earlier in the day, but they had more to be concerned with and often it had a lot to do with their boss’ mood. If Sergeant Sellers was having a bad day or came to work pissed off about something totally unrelated to the job, they would all be in for a long miserable night.

The briefing room was set up much like a classroom, and everyone preferred sitting in the back row. The sarge would sit facing the squad in the front of the room, with the standard blackboard behind him. Obviously, the furthest chair away from him was a hot commodity. Russ always said it reminded him of high school, where all the cool kids huddled together in the back of the room.

Naturally, no one wanted the sergeant to see their face or overhear anything they might be saying to each other about him. All officers agree that getting into briefing late, after all the good seats were taken, was a mistake they didn’t want to make, especially if they happened to have a sergeant they didn’t particularly like. Making fun of his looks, his wife and/or children or his overall personality was out of the question if they sat so close that they could smell his breath. The other side of the coin was that almost every squad, especially the ones with younger officers, had at least one or two suck-ups. Their whole ambition in life was to snitch off their fellow officers to the sergeant in order to put themselves in his good graces. This usually guaranteed them a clean car everyday and, while the rest of the squad was out running themselves ragged from one call to another, sometimes without a backup, this guy would be in the station doing some ridiculous paperwork for the sergeant. Usually, writing a report or completing some absurd forms that the sergeant was too lazy to do himself. In other words, these guys were on the fast track to becoming sergeants themselves.

Russ’ squad was made up of officers with anywhere from five to ten years of street experience, all in tough neighborhoods throughout the city, except for two rookies. One was just out of the academy and still riding with a training officer, and the other had almost a full year on, and would be off probation within a few weeks. For the most part the group seemed to get along pretty good. They had been together as a unit for less than a year, since the Phoenix Police Department (PPD) opened its newest precinct. At that time, the entire patrol bureau had bid on squad assignments citywide. PPD had been on fixed shifts for quite some time, which meant they were never routinely rotated from shift to shift like it was done in many cities.

Just prior to the opening of the new building everyone chose which precinct and squad assignment they preferred and seniority determined which one of their first ten choices they managed to actually get. Some guys would make their choices by the area where they wanted to work: high crime vs. little or no crime. Some selected by the distance the station house was from their home, preferring a short daily drive to and from work. Still others made their choice by who the squad sergeant was going to be (this information was always posted before the officers had to make their bid decisions). Careers have been made and destroyed by conflicting personalities between sergeants and patrolman. Police departments are closely modeled on military structure, but operate in real world scenarios daily, which can breed some ugly relationships between officers and sergeants.

The women’s movement brought many more females into law enforcement. Their promotions created a whole new area of problems commonly referred to as gender complexity, which was a whole new world for the PPD’s internal affairs people to deal with. Women were now doing men’s jobs. Education and acceptance was an extremely difficult process. Sadly, just about every large department in the country has been facing this problem.

In the briefing room, Russ’ squad was talking simultaneously when the door opened and their sergeant entered, followed closely by the Lieutenant. Suddenly, Russ began to feel nauseated because everything derogatory remark he may have ever said about either of them was being replayed in his mind. He was hoping that he didn’t get snitched off to the both of them, or worse maybe they overheard him with Ernie and Hector expressing their true feelings about them. Hyperventilating was now his only method of consuming air.

Alright, listen up guys, the L T wants to tell you all something, Sgt. Sellers bellowed.

Russ was relieved, thinking he just skated on another one. It wasn’t that he didn’t like his boss, but there had been some disagreements in the past with respect to the way certain situations were handled on the street. Sergeant Sellers would always win without argument. The system mandates it. If an officer refused to let the matter drop because he believed the sergeant made an incorrect decision, then the Lieutenant would step in. Very convincingly, the lieutenant would corroborate that the sergeant was always right without ever hearing an opposing opinion. It usually took a few years for an officer to learn to live with it. However, some officers never learn acceptance, which explains why so many of them have a drinking problem and the divorce rate is so high.

If the lieutenant and sergeant were here to chew out any of the guys about something, the sergeant wouldn’t have introduced him. The lieutenant would have just come in the room and started screaming.

Good afternoon, guys, Lieutenant Moreno began. The whole room instantly became quiet. I’m here today to fill you in on a two- eleven that occurred several hours ago at the city employees’ credit union.

Everyone’s attention elevated to the max upon hearing there had been an armed robbery at their credit union. Each officer hoped he was going to say that all records had been stolen and, therefore, no one would have to pay back their car loans. It wasn’t going to happen today, but they did have their dreams!

Two suspects wearing ski masks walked in there about two o’clock this afternoon. One was carrying a sawed off shotgun. Once inside, he fired a round into the ceiling, setting off the fire and robbery alarms. Naturally, complete pandemonium occurred. Everyone was either running for cover or lying flat on the floor, the lieutenant continued. Hearing the alarms go off these geniuses decided to take a hostage, and make their getaway. One of our female officers from the north precinct, Jane Bentz, just happened to be in the credit union with her two kids.

Every officer in the room groaned upon hearing this bit of information. They could almost feel what was coming next.

The lieutenant went on, You guessed it. She was the one they grabbed. Her off-duty weapon was in her purse, which was hanging on her shoulder. She started to walk out with them voluntarily, after they cleaned out all five of the teller drawers, because she didn’t want these assholes to know she had her kids there. You’ll never believe what happened next, but one of the imbecile tellers screamed that they shouldn’t take her because she’d be leaving her two kids there. After shaking his head in disbelief, the lieutenant continued. "Upon hearing this, the short fat suspect, who seemed to be the brains of this operation yelled for his partner to grab the kids, too. Shorty had his gun on Bentz and the bags filled with cash and coins were slung over his shoulder. Apparently, he felt the kids would make good shields. His tall, big- boned cohort agreed, and ran past the teller windows to where the off duty officer had been standing before being grabbed and dragged toward the door. Her two young boys became hysterical as he approached them. When Bentz saw him run toward her sons she knew she had to act fast. As he past her she swung around and kicked the short fat one squarely in the groin sending him to the ground. When the tall suspect turned to see why his partner had begun screaming, Bentz reached for her gun. Here’s the problem, guys: without muttering so much as one word, she fired three quick rounds at the guy going

after her kids, all direct hits. One bullet smack between the eyes and two in the ten-ring."

The officers were not only silent, but visibly shaken. Although the weapons discharge was textbook academy training (where it was drilled into them daily that if they had to shoot it was one to the head and two direct shots to the heart), she gave no warning. Russ was getting a sick feeling in his stomach. He knew, as well as she did, that department policy was for her to identify herself as an officer and order the suspect to drop his weapon.

Moreno continued, Seeing this, the short guy bolted toward the door, and is still outstanding. Needless to say, when fire/rescue arrived the tall guy was dead. There were no other injuries to anyone in the building.

They could see in the lieutenant’s face that he was very concerned about this shooting, but he wasn’t prepared to discuss it with them. He began passing out copies of the suspect’s description, as well as that of the vehicle he may have escaped in.

That’s all I have for now, keep your eyes open. We want this guy. If you spot anything that might fit get on the radio and call for back-up. With that, he got up and walked out of the briefing room.

After his departure the room remained silent, even the sergeant didn’t speak. The same thoughts were going through everyone’s mind: Internal Affairs was going to put Officer Bentz through hell or worse! Why would she shoot without giving any warning? But, in honesty, they knew why. Each of them would have done the same thing if it were their kids being endangered. Cops have lost their jobs for less, and some were even prosecuted. They began looking at each other. There was a silent agreement. They had to find this asshole and convince him that his buddy was going to kill people if she didn’t do the taxpayers a favor and shoot him. Finding the runt would be the hard part.

The rest of briefing was unusually quiet. Everyone was fixated on the dilemma facing Bentz. The department would be putting her through some psychological debriefing for a period now after the shooting, and would offer professional counseling. Some officers never fully recovered mentally after being involved in a shooting, and the scenario worsens when someone actually dies. None of them could even imagine what a mess her head was in when she thought her own kids might be their victims. Now her entire life and career were going to be put under a microscope not only by the department, but by the judicial system as well if indicted. If that weren’t bad enough, the media would be investigating