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crime reporting pt. 2

March 4, 2010

On 2/13, I wrote a posting about a rather strange night. I had gone out just after 12:30 am to fill up my tire, which has a slow leak. I went to the closest gas station, and found it had been burgled. Lights were flashing in the kiosk, and the alarm was going off.

I went home, called police dispatch, then a bit later – just after 1 am, went to another gas station. As soon as I got there a guy ran up needing to call 911 to report that he’d found a body. I heard his part of the conversation. A patrol car came by and we flagged it down. He talked to the officers and I filled up my tire and left. For a few more details you can check the previous blog.

When I got home, I talked to my dad for a little awhile about what had happened, then went into my room, typed up what had happened and also wrote a detailed description of the guy, and his name – he had to give the name to 911 dispatch. I have not included any of these details in the previous blog.

Several weeks have passed. For the first week after that night, I had checked the paper to see if there was any info about a murder at the location the guy described. I didn’t find anything, so forgot about it.

I sleep late, and usually am still in bed at 11 am. So, when I got a call on my cell, I was not too pleased – figured it was just my brother, who sometimes calls earlier than he should. I heard the little voice mail chime, so just got up to check the nbr. and listen to the message. It was a police detective.

I called back, and we made an appt. for 2 pm. It is now 2:40 pm, and I’ve just returned from the station.

When I got there, I went into the main lobby, and was directed by the public service officer to go up the elevator and there I would find the investigative services division. No one was at the window, but a short, stocky detective (I’m assuming it was a detective) walked up behind me and asked if I’d been helped. I said no and told him who I needed to see. He had me wait, and said his desk was next to the detective who called me, and he’d tell the detective.

I didn’t have to wait long. A tall middle-aged guy – big dude, with glock in side holster came to the door and walked me into the main room. We made an immediate right turn into a small interview room.

The detective said his partnerĀ  would be joining us. His partner was not the guy who first helped me, but another detective – this one also mid-late 40’s I’m guessing – heavy not in as good of shape, but definitely a serious dude – these guys are hardened cops – working in this town as a police officer will do that to you, and you gotta be tough for this job – especially working homicide, I’m guessing.

It’s a little intimidating siting in a small windowless interview room with 2 detectives, even if I am only giving a statement.

The first detective asked me my address and home phone, and the second one joined us. We went over the details. The second detective acted more interested when I told them that I had been to the first gas station and what I had seen there. He pulled up his chair close.

I told them I had notes, and handed them a page I printed out – the one I typed that night. They both read it, asked me a few more questions – was there any one with the guy when he walked up to me, what direction did he come from, who first spotted the patrol car, were there any other people at the gas station, what was the guy’s demeanor, did I hear any gun shots, how long had I been at the station before the guy saw me, at what times was I at the 2 different gas stations, did the guy say anything to me before calling 911, did I have anything more to add? I didn’t.

The first detective asked me if he could keep the notes, and I said yeah, and he had me sign and date the page. The other detective wrote a number on the left top corner of the paper – I am guessing this goes into evidence. They didn’t have anymore to ask me. The 2nd detective left, after shaking my hand – these cops have firm handshakes! Mine’s more the dead fish lack of grip. The first thanked me for the notes and walked me out, and I drove home.

I don’t know what will become of all this. It’s been a few weeks, I hope they catch whoever did it. I kind of doubt the guy who used my phone committed the crime, but who knows.

Just before I left for the police station, my mom told me she had seen something in the paper about a body being found where the guy said it was. I hadn’t seen the article. Maybe the case will be solved, and written about more thoroughly. I hope to learn more about this case, who the victim was, what happened, who did it.

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