Police and Thieves
About two weeks ago, some guy put a heavy shoulder into two apartment doors in my building, shattered the frames, and made off with some jewelry and cash. He did this at 1:30 in the afternoon on an April day in Los Angeles--about the broadest daylight you'll ever see.
The doors were the only ones not directly visible from the street, and mine is right on the corner sidewalk. Also, the thief didn't take anything he couldn't carry out of the place on foot and I don't really own anything valuable that isn't heavy or on my person at all times. The upshot of this is that it was an interesting day, but I wasn't very worried about my place. Basically, I did what you would do. I checked my renter's insurance policy, told myself I'd get a new lock soon, and forgot about it.
Yesterday, I heard a loud banging from somewhere in the building. The walls here aren't too thick, so if someone puts up a picture next door you know it. Still, this was pretty loud. I walked outside and checked it out. There, up in the stairwell, was the guy who broke into those same apartments two weeks ago, breaking into them again. He saw me and began knocking on the door softly, as though he was just coming by to say hello and accidentally jammed the frame open about six inches.
I asked him what he was doing and he came down the stairs, mumbling something not in English--or any Spanish I could recognize. I kept trying to talk to him as another neighbor came out of her apartment to see what was going on. The guy calmly walked past me and around the corner. I followed from about fifty feet behind as he walked down the long block, finally ducking into a cut-through to the major street and out of sight.
Now, a better man might have tried to detain him. Here's my excuse for my cowardice--I didn't know if he was armed and I didn't even have on a pair of shoes. I figured that now that he knew that we knew what he looked like, he'd stop robbing the building. I didn't do anything except talk to him. Granted, that's usually enough for me to keep people away, but still.
A police officer asked later for my description of the suspect, which I gave to him: 5'10" Latino guy, maybe 40 years old, slicked back black hair, light green checked shirt.
"Did he seem homeless to you, or transient?"
"I don't know. He hadn't shaved in a couple of days but, you know, I haven't either..."
"He didn't seem homeless?"
"He looked cleaner than homeless, if that makes any sense."
"Okay. Did he seem like he was a just a regular cholo, or was he--and I just use this for description, sir--a wetback? You know, like an illegal or just a homegrown Mexican?"
Wow... I thought both about the answer to his question and the fact that he had actually asked it. What possible relevance does a question like that have?
"I don't know. He seemed like any of the people I see on the street. I don't know if they're illegal or not...Officer Martinez."
Yup. I've changed the blatantly Latino surname to protect...well, no one, but he was Latino and asking that kind of question with those kinds of words. Guess what they say is true--when you become a cop, it just becomes Us and Them and that's just the way it has to be.
The officer said they'd be in touch. I got a new lock on my front door.
The doors were the only ones not directly visible from the street, and mine is right on the corner sidewalk. Also, the thief didn't take anything he couldn't carry out of the place on foot and I don't really own anything valuable that isn't heavy or on my person at all times. The upshot of this is that it was an interesting day, but I wasn't very worried about my place. Basically, I did what you would do. I checked my renter's insurance policy, told myself I'd get a new lock soon, and forgot about it.
Yesterday, I heard a loud banging from somewhere in the building. The walls here aren't too thick, so if someone puts up a picture next door you know it. Still, this was pretty loud. I walked outside and checked it out. There, up in the stairwell, was the guy who broke into those same apartments two weeks ago, breaking into them again. He saw me and began knocking on the door softly, as though he was just coming by to say hello and accidentally jammed the frame open about six inches.
I asked him what he was doing and he came down the stairs, mumbling something not in English--or any Spanish I could recognize. I kept trying to talk to him as another neighbor came out of her apartment to see what was going on. The guy calmly walked past me and around the corner. I followed from about fifty feet behind as he walked down the long block, finally ducking into a cut-through to the major street and out of sight.
Now, a better man might have tried to detain him. Here's my excuse for my cowardice--I didn't know if he was armed and I didn't even have on a pair of shoes. I figured that now that he knew that we knew what he looked like, he'd stop robbing the building. I didn't do anything except talk to him. Granted, that's usually enough for me to keep people away, but still.
A police officer asked later for my description of the suspect, which I gave to him: 5'10" Latino guy, maybe 40 years old, slicked back black hair, light green checked shirt.
"Did he seem homeless to you, or transient?"
"I don't know. He hadn't shaved in a couple of days but, you know, I haven't either..."
"He didn't seem homeless?"
"He looked cleaner than homeless, if that makes any sense."
"Okay. Did he seem like he was a just a regular cholo, or was he--and I just use this for description, sir--a wetback? You know, like an illegal or just a homegrown Mexican?"
Wow... I thought both about the answer to his question and the fact that he had actually asked it. What possible relevance does a question like that have?
"I don't know. He seemed like any of the people I see on the street. I don't know if they're illegal or not...Officer Martinez."
Yup. I've changed the blatantly Latino surname to protect...well, no one, but he was Latino and asking that kind of question with those kinds of words. Guess what they say is true--when you become a cop, it just becomes Us and Them and that's just the way it has to be.
The officer said they'd be in touch. I got a new lock on my front door.
posted by Matthew at 8:13 PM
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