Rick Deckard (tufferguy) wrote in security_issues,
Rick Deckard
tufferguy
security_issues

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My day so far. . .

I awoke to the sound of my phone ringing. I looked at the Screen and could see that it was my boss Don.

"Good morning." I said.

"Hope I didn't wake you." He stated.

"Nah, I had to get up to answer the phone. . ." I deadpanned.

"Go over to Sarge's house, and get his gear from him. He's got case notes and his badge, along with uniforms." He said.

"Okay, I guess he resigned?"

"More or less." He answered.

I got up, and put on a pair of jeans and a golf shirt with tennis shoes. I don't have an "off-duty" holster, so I just tucked my sigsauer into the small of my back and pulled it closer to my right side. I drove the three miles to his house, and spotted his mustang.

As I rang the bell, his face appeared inside the formidable iron screen door. He smiled at me.

"Where's Don?" He asked.

"I'm all alone." I claimed.

He quickly scanned his entire neighborhood as he let me in. John Sarge was our staff investigator, he trained me in. Don had told me that he suspected John of having a substance abuse problem. Both of them were ex-law enforcement with extensive criminal investigations backgrounds. Don had a few more years than John, but John's experience was nothing to sneeze at.

We sat around and chatted about stuff. I was sad to see John go, but he hadn't bothered to call anyone in close to two months. I briefly wondered what Don was gonna do about the staff investigator position. I extended my hand to shake, and John quickly looked it over before even moving his arm to shake back.

I dialed Don as I drove away.

"Did you get everything?" He asked.

"Yeah," I listed off everything handed over to me. "and there's a book I wanna look over."

"Go ahead, now put his badge in your pocket and head over to XX XXXX On Lake. Apartment four one nine, noise complaint." He seemed in a hurry.

"Gottcha, I'll turn on my radio." I answered.

"Okay call me when you are done." He hung up.

When I got there it quickly materialized into a definite "Culture Clash" type of argument. It was between a Gay male, and an Elderly Black Female. The Gay guy works in a bar, and comes home around three in the morning. She is a light sleeper, and doesn't approve of his lifestyle. So they make constant noise trying to piss each other off all the time.

This has been going on for almost five months now.

Over an hour later, I leave after having talked to each person for about a half an hour. I implored each to understand the other make a new concerted effort to get along. [I really wanted to utter the famous Rodney King line.]

I guess I'm the new investigator.
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