Since I'm on my way to SleuthFest, I've moved "Homicide - Hussey" up a day. I hope you enjoy seeing the lighter side of cop work. I don't have time to mess with the IE coding troubles, so again, if you can use Firefox, it should be better. Comments don't seem to be working in IE today.
Billy Hyatt's exploits as an officer with the Lakeland Police Department are legendary. Never in the history of this agency or any other that I know of, have so many classic practical jokes been played on so many. The list of unbelievers who have challenged the "Great One" is endless. Shortly they would come begging for a truce, sometimes they would be afforded mercy, sometimes not.
Often times the prank would be rather harmless, like the one he played on Glenn Seacrest.
Glenn got into his patrol car one evening and smelled the unmistakable smell of feces. He checked his shoes, he checked under the seats, he checked under the mats he looked everywhere. The smell remained. Glenn returned to the station when he could bear the smell no longer, and switched cruisers. The smell would not go away. Glenn just got used to smelling it and went to work.
About halfway through the shift, a little old lady ran the red light at Florida and the Boulevard. Glenn stopped her and began issuing the citation. As he wrote, he could see the old woman sniffing the air like a bloodhound trying to get his bearings. Glenn smelled it too. It was that damn dog shit smell. It seemed to be getting stronger. It just wouldn't go away. Glenn completed the ticket and explained it to the motorist as she continued to snort and sniff. After tearing off the women's copy, he opened the ticket book to stow away the pink copy. That's when he found the carefully placed, small brown lump of excrement. The lady saw it too. They looked at each other, neither knowing what to say.
Glenn said, "Have a nice day."
"Oh I will," said the lady."
Or you might go to work on Monday morning, after working all weekend on your beautiful lawn, weeding, fertilizing, watering, mowing, and raking, and come home that evening to find that someone has delivered a dump truck load of fill-dirt onto your lawn. Those things would happen to you if Billy liked you. If he didn't like you, nothing was out of the question.
Billy was a top-notch practical joker, but he was also a top-notch cop. His experience and knowledge regarding police work was second to none. Billy knew a little about everything. When he and Ken Wnuk were under cover, no finer UC team ever worked the streets anywhere. He was a friend to all, and good husband and father. Then there was the other side.
This chapter in Detective Hussey's manuscript is a long one--I'll be posting it in installments. To make sure you don't miss any, you can sign up to follow the blog. As always, I'll share what I learn at conference workshops and panels when I return next week.