Two Minutes to Live—Ten Seconds to Die: The Conflicts of Police Officers and Politics

CHAPTER 1

IT WAS GOING ON FOUR o’clock in afternoon and in late March the Texas sun wouldn’t hang in the sky near as late is it would in just a few weeks. Then, daylight savings time would coincide with the further tilt of the earth to produce the long, hot days of summer in south Texas. For now, the sun was at just the right position in the bright blue sky to create a perfect canvass for the Fort Worth skyline.

Toby had the Camaro on a comfortable cruising speed of 60mph but as his eyes shifted right, he noticed the clock and was reminded that he had to be at roll-call at 6:00pm. He stepped on the gas pedal and the powerful engine jumped quickly to 70mph. He wanted to have enough time to eat dinner and visit with his mom and dad, but he was always apprehensive about being late for roll-call.

He held his speed steady as he pushed the button on his Bluetooth ear-piece and told the computer voice to Dial Mom and Dad-home.

His dad answered at the start of the second ring. Dad, this is Toby, I’m on my way. I just turned north onto I-820, so I’m about fifteen minutes out. Tell Mom to get the roast out of the pot. I want to have plenty of time to visit while we eat and you know how I am about roll-call. Yeah, I’ll have a couple of new stories but nothing too exciting. I don’t want to get Mom’s worry-meter going any more than normal; she’s got enough to deal with. Ok, see you in a few. Bye.

The Camaro was purring along nicely and he let his thoughts slide back over the sequence of events that led him to where he was today; Patrolman, Toby Roberts of the Plainfield, Texas Police Department.

Toby was physically fit by anyone’s definition. He was an even 6'tall and held his weight at 185lbs; the weight was mostly muscle and combined with his close cut, sandy brown hair and pale blue eyes his appearance belied his weight and strength. In high school, he had tried out for soccer and by the end of his freshman year, he was already a star of the team and the subject of conversations among parents, coaches, and fans of soccer in the Dallas-Ft Worth area.

By his junior year, he was in the newspapers every Monday morning as the top scorer or best defensive playmaker in the weekend games between the area schools. Then in his senior year, he was selected to play on a team consisting of the elite high school players from all of the DFW area in a league that included similar teams from all over Texas, and conferences encompassing the Eastern half of the United States. The league was separate from the high school conferences, and was scouted regularly by the top colleges and occasionally the pros.

Upon graduation, Toby was the guest at three or four prestigious universities and received offers of full-ride scholarships from all of them. It was a whirlwind of excitement, and the promise of an exciting four years of college and then on into the pros. Everyone assured him he had the talent to make it all the way. His dad was his biggest fan and supporter.

Darren Roberts’ job required him to travel all over the country for a large developer of shopping centers. He took his job seriously, but he never doubted his most serious job was the happiness and well being of his wife and three sons. All four were totally aware of the commitment he had made to that mission in his life.

While everyone in the family was caught up in the excitement about—what looked like—the future for Toby Roberts, a total shift in paradigm was taking place in Toby. It was difficult to explain, even to understand, but one day it hit him. Playing soccer was fun and it had taught him important truths about his own abilities but more importantly, the value of teamwork while trying to move the ball to the goal. He had the good judgment and the unique ability to render sound decisions in the face of immediate peril and claim victory from the jaws of impending defeat. The thought that kept pestering his practical thinking process was: then what?

He had come to the dinner table one evening and announced—to everyone’s astonishment—that he didn’t think he wanted to play soccer any longer. He was thinking about turning down all the scholarships and going to the local college that offered a degree in Criminal Investigation. He said his goal was to become a police officer. His family was momentarily stunned.

Darren Roberts looked across the dining table and asked, Toby, you have proven to everyone that you have very special talents on the soccer field. What makes you think you want to be a policeman? I’ve never heard you talk about that idea before?

Dad, I know this is a shock to you—to all of you, and I admit it is something I’m still getting used to. I have given it a lot of thought, and I feel right down in my heart and soul, that the skills I’ve developed in soccer will serve me well in most aspects of police work. I would as a policeman, be serving my community in a way that would make me feel proud, every day, to get up and go to work; just like you do, when you build a big shopping mall that gives the people a better place to shop and makes your company a profit at the same time. Do you understand that?

His dad had sat still for what seemed like the longest time, looking straight into his eyes. Then he spoke.

Toby, as long as you believe what you just said, I’ll support you one hundred percent, and I predict you will make one of the best damned police officers in the State of Texas.

His mother, harboring an instinctive feeling of apprehension, had reluctantly agreed and with a loving smile on her face and a look of knowing admiration in her eyes, said, If you’re finished, Toby, go out in the kitchen and bring the apple pie sitting on the stove.

That had pretty much ended soccer as the dominate subject of dinner-table conversation although it remained a backup subject when a spectacular play, high school, college, or professional made the news.

Toby brought himself back to his driving, changed lanes and exited I-820 and began winding into the sprinkling of newer homes. His dad had purchased this house just two years ago and even though it was just he and Mom now, they had selected the home for its desirable location. It was close to his older brother and their two adorable kids; a boy, now four, and his two year old sister. Grandpa and grandma did all they could to spoil the kids rotten. Toby’s older brother, Scott, and his wife, Marcie, were guilty accomplices.

Scott had opened his own computer software company and in the first year produced a management-control program for oil exploration companies, and within two more years, had a string of successful programs that brought big money in every year; his company was getting bigger by the day. The kids had everything they wished for and more.

He slowed the Camaro as he turned into the driveway. The two-story house, on a one acre lot, sat back from the street about 100' and the wide driveway led him up to the three-car garage.

The pork roast and all the trimmings were on the table and as soon as the hugs were over, they all sat down. Dad said grace and the conversation moved from Dad’s newest project in California to questions about Toby’s recent patrols and what exciting encounters he had experienced.

Toby had graduated from the local college with a respectable set of grades and a number of special mentions and certificates of achievement from professors and visiting law enforcement teachers on his diligence in thinking through legal questions that required thorough research and thought.

Never the less, when he finished college, the economy had done a lot of damage to the cities and county budgets throughout the Metroplex. There were no openings in the Dallas-Ft. Worth area for a rookie cop.

He had spent the next 18 months flipping burgers for McDonalds, and cashiering at Starbucks; boring, but instructive in developing patience. Starbucks helped him with communication skills and customer service. Toby soaked it all up but yearned for the blue uniform, service revolver, and his own patrol.

The break came from an unexpected source. Toby had thought the sheriff’s department, in either of the two large counties, would offer the best chance of an opening, if for no other reason than size.

The city of Plainfield had a reputation in the DFW area of professional excellence in its police department. Toby had applied, thinking that if he got on there, he would get the most thorough training on techniques and procedures—than any of the other municipalities or counties. When the city of Plainfield called and said they had an opening and wanted him in for an interview, he couldn’t take off his Starbucks apron fast enough.

Plainfield was a major, growing community in the DFW Metroplex. It was initially developed as a residential community for people who weren’t comfortable with the multi-cultural nature of the growing cities of Dallas, Ft. Worth and other suburbs; but wanted to stay in the midst of the dynamic growth that was bringing wealth and prosperity to the area.

One Sunday afternoon, a group that was discussing the options that seemed viable, gathered at the home of one of the members. After a refill of the wine glasses the host brought out a map of the area, showing each municipality in the metro-plex. He brought everyone’s attention to an area—smack in the middle—that had not been included in any of the previous incorporated cities.

The State of Texas had reserved the choice acreage for a branch campus for research and development for The University of Texas. The man was an alumni and had confidential information the hold on the location was about to be released. If the group made the right connections now and the right contribution to the football program at the University, the man felt sure they would allow the group to put a claim on it for their new city. A city they could build from the ground-up to meet their own standards.

Now, fifteen years later, their growth was exceeding their wildest imaginings in unforeseen ways. Wealth and influence, which they welcomed, were accompanied by an unexpected mix of lower economic and social groups. Blue collar workers that found jobs in Plainfield figured out ways to live there; criminal elements found business opportunities there. A bigger police force that they had planned for was required. Their standards required their police department be the best and reflect the character of the city fathers.

None of this was known to Toby nor would it have deterred him from the appointment—even if he had known all the secret motivations of every official in Plainfield. In Toby’s thinking, that was politics and he was not interested in politics. He just wanted to get on the job, use the knowledge he had picked up in school, add the training that a good department would provide, and finish off with some on-the-street experience.

He had shown up for the interview; early by fifteen minutes. He was nervous, but tempered with confidence. He knew this was where he was supposed to be and the job was what he was meant to be doing.

There were two other applicants, both younger than him; one just out of school and the other one was just two weeks out of the army with one year as an MP in Iraq. They might be competition. The interviews were long and seemed tedious. He left with no clear feeling of how the interviewing officer might be leaning, however, he thought he did great! A week later, he got the letter in the mail. The interview process was complete and he was to report to the academy the following Monday to begin training.

The routine at the academy was tough but Toby loved the challenge and excelled at every level. He received certificates of excellence in all categories and at each level. He led the class in the physical training sessions; quick and agile, and he could run the five miles with a thirty pound pack and finish by himself with time for a coffee before the next runner arrived. The whole family came for his graduation. It was a special event in the life of Toby Roberts.

The graduating class was only eight in number. Six men and two women were about to be added to the ranks. It had become the policy for Plainfield PD to deliberately add women and minorities to the rank and file. This policy was not to reflect the population of Plainfield as much as to comply with regulations of the Federal Government; from whom a chunk of the money was coming to pay the salaries of the additions.

CHAPTER 2

AFTER A TWO WEEK ASSIGNMENT in headquarters, honing his ability to please the paper pushers, Toby was finally assigned to a training officer to begin patrols. The short stint in headquarters exposed him to an atmosphere very new and different than that at the academy. The academy had been all about PROTECT and SERVE the citizens of Plainfield but at headquarters—it was more image and political correctness; Toby shrugged-it-off as not something for a policeman on patrol to worry about.

Most of Plainfield was middle and upper class residential areas with the usual neighborhood characteristics. It had a pretty good sized shopping mall at the intersection of two interstates, a downtown made up mostly of banks, city hall, municipal courts and enough office buildings for the lawyers, insurance agents, accountants and influence-peddlers that made their living from the activities of the rest.

The mayor, and a majority of the city council, was made up of people who had already made their wealth from—at least in part—decisions made and policies set by previous councils or themselves since taking office. These directions and/or rules were always couched in words and publicly discussed in a manner that massaged the citizenry’s desire for a public image of being sensitive to the little people, the downtrodden, etc. True enough, there weren’t hardly any of those kind of citizens in Plainfield but just the thought kept most of the residents walking around with heads held high, and sleeping sound with their consciences clear.

Toby’s thoughts returned to dinner with his folks as he grabbed a couple of bowls from the counter and carried them into the dining room.

Toby, be careful and don’t spill anything on that beautiful blue uniform, his mom cautioned.

You can rest assured of that. Don’t worry, Mom, I’m very careful to avoid giving the sergeant any reason to chew my ass out for food stains on the uniform. He finds enough other crap to give me a bad time about.

Darrin Roberts came into the dining room, in time to hear Toby’s last remark and with a look of concern, asked, What did you do to get on the sergeant’s bad side, Toby?

It’s not personal Dad. His job is to finish the process of making me the best cop in the City of Plainfield.

Dinner was great and the family got in all their questions and comments. Everybody told him how proud they were and Mom gave him a rib-breaking hug and told him to be careful and to plan on giving another report over another dinner in about a week.

After dinner, they all said good-bys and Toby paused at the mirror and adjusted his hat until it was just right, then went out to the Camaro and headed it back to Plainfield.

CHAPTER 3

AT 6:00PM, THE SHIFT SERGEANT entered the room and yelled for everyone to sit down and listen up. He read off the patrol assignments and then picked up his clipboard and began up-dating the precinct on wants, APBs, and any criminal activities that might affect their patrols.

Plainfield did not have a crime problem like other cities with a population of 500,000. But, consistent with the rest of America, they did have one: Drugs. The pushers in Plainfield were confident that their customers would always be able to pay for their purchases. Most of the drugs that came into Plainfield were funneled through a system tightly controlled in supply and distribution. Occasionally, there was a maverick that needed to raise his working capital and would use burglary or robbery to obtain free merchandise and the funds to buy back into the supply chain. The organized part of the trade tried to discourage that kind of free enterprise ingenuity but was not totally successful.

The sergeant wrapped up the roll-call and the 6:00pm-2:00am shift, headed for the cars.

Toby and partner Sonny Montgomery began their patrol in the normal pattern. They took a close look at the hangers at the 7-Eleven’s and checked two businesses who had reported unexplained pry-marks around their back doors. Some underfunded addict was trying to get back in the supply chain.

At 11:00pm they stopped at their favorite all-night coffee shop. Toby was trying to guard the waist-line, so he passed on the butter-horn and just sipped his coffee. Sonny, who seemed to burn calories just sitting in the patrol car, had an extra large pastry, heated, with a big pad of butter. He finished the delicacy before Toby finished his coffee.

Back in the car, Sonny asked how Toby’s younger brother was doing. Todd Roberts had been the problem child for his parents. He was four years younger than Toby and in the pre-teen years, he seemed to follow in his brothers footsteps. He had skills on the soccer field that led coaches, parents, and players to talk about the Robert’s dynasty that seemed to be in-the-making. Then Todd took a sudden turn to trouble. He experimented with marijuana like most of his age group. He migrated, quickly, to the harder and more powerful drugs and it wasn’t long before his behavior attracted the attention of his soccer coach, teachers, and ultimately the police. The next few years were a nightmare of events; expulsion from school, cut from the soccer team, numerous arrests and appearances in front of a judge who started out sympathetic but was eventually angry at Todd’s apparent lack of respect for the law and the police and the courts responsible for enforcement of the laws; Todd seemed to have contempt for them all.

Todd’s coming along. He got a job three months ago at Big Idea Burgers and so far, has not failed to show up for work one time. He has not missed a meeting with his PO in that same time frame and he has a girl friend that he is living with. She is going to the community college and working part time as a waitress. He comes over about once a week and eats dinner with the folks, which makes them happy.

Sonny said, as he watched the street, Your folks have been real troopers with that boy.

No, they’ve just been parents, as they define parenthood. They wouldn’t be any different with any of us boys, Toby insisted.

CHAPTER 4

ON THE NORTH-EAST CORNER OF the patrol area that Toby and Sonny were assigned to on this night, Tarrant Street was only two blocks long. The entire two blocks consisted of small retail shops on the north side and small professional offices on the south. The shops were a mix of neighborhood convenience stores; beauty nails, tanning, and—in the middle of them all—was Harold’s Drug Store, one of the few surviving independent drug stores and pharmacies. The offices across the street were doctors of different specialties, a lawyer, insurance agent, etc.

The buildings were connected together in a row with only the cross street of Sixth Avenue, separating each row of shops from its duplicate in the next block. There was on-street parking in front and a wide alley that ran the full two blocks distance in the rear.

The alley was large enough to accommodate the large garbage dumpsters and leave enough room for two employee cars, so they would not take spaces on the street.

Donald Bones Lindsay drove the large model Pontiac, slowly, along Tarrant Street looking at both sides of the street as he passed the darkened store-fronts, almost stopping in front of Harold’s Drug’s. He wanted to make sure no one was taking a late night stroll or some drunk was just feeling his way home from the neighborhood tavern ten blocks to the south. He also