Homicide - Hussey - Human Bomb, Part 2

If you haven't read Part 1 yet, I suggest you scroll down and do so before reading this.


We had been broken into two man teams and placed at strategic locations around the shopping center area. The purse-snatcher’s activities had been greatly curtailed during our one week of steady surveillance. He had still managed to hit us three times, always in an area where we weren’t. It seemed he knew our every move and when we were on one end of the complex, watching someone who fit the description, he would hit on the other end and disappear. We were into our second week. I had missed two episodes of my favorite show, “Cheers.” The boys in the bar were my new heroes.

It had gotten incredibly frustrating. We were under pressure from the Captain who was hearing it from the City Manager and the news media. People were refusing to shop at Searstown, and this guy was making us look ridiculous.

It was nearly a hundred degrees every day, and our cars were overheating in the parking lot. The dark blue uniforms were scrapped after three days for the more comfortable blue jeans and t-shirts. All in all, we were at wits' end. We all talked about when we would finally catch this guy and beat the living shit out of him for causing us all this grief. He would certainly be “hospitalized,” we all agreed.

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I don’t know who came up with the idea, but everybody shrieked with joy when the plan was laid out. One of the unmarked cars, an old Buick station wagon that had been confiscated in a drug seizure, would be placed in front of the hardware store, where a number of the robberies had taken place. The window would be rolled down and a women’s purse placed on the front seat of the car. Inside the purse would be a “Mighty Midget" flash bang device, with its detonation pin wired to the steering wheel. Anyone removing the purse would pull the pin, and in 3-5 seconds, the purse would explode, startling the would-be thief and pinpointing his exact location, facilitating his certain arrest.

For those of you who are not familiar with some of the tactical tools, the “flash bang” was developed and is commonly used as a diversionary device. For instance, in a hostage situation, a SWAT team member tosses a flash bang in the vicinity of an armed suspect. The device contains an explosive charge as well as flash powder.

There is a huge “concussion” type explosion, accompanied by a flash of bright light. This tactic will usually confuse a suspect long enough for a team member to move in and disarm or otherwise neutralize the suspect.

The literature that is packed with the device, warns that "Detonation in close proximity to humans may cause “great bodily harm” or “death.” The detonation produces overpressures. That is, pressure greater than atmospheric pressure. These pressures can maim or kill depending on their magnitude. An independent study conducted by a prominent university said that the standard 188 lb. Output Distraction Device, which was the one we used, although the most consistent in producing “like” overpressures, was at the threshold of safety. The report goes on to say that when tossing the device into a room, the possibility is that the device would land within 3.75 inches of the occupant. If this happens, the suspect would be subjected to 115 pound per square inch of overpressure. If the occupant is lying on the floor and the device lands near his head this would give disastrous results.

The problem was nobody read the warnings or the study. At least nobody brought it up when our little plan was formulated. So we went through with it. The car and the booby-trapped purse were set up and we waited.

The decoy was placed on Tuesday morning. It was Wednesday afternoon and getting late. The air conditioner in the unmarked Chevy was starting to blow hot air. That meant that we would have to shut off the car’s motor until it cooled. The heat was making us cross and crazy. If the bad guy didn’t take the bait again, we’d have to carefully break down the car and purse until the next day. Another day in this sweltering hell.

“Do you have to do that?” I asked my partner as he drummed on the car dash.

“Boy you’re sure touchy.” He made a face.

“It’s just so goddamn hot” I said. “I’m—" I never got to finish. Somewhere to the west and in the direction of the decoy car, there was an explosion.

“What the fuck?” My partner looked at me. We both yelled “He’s in.” We couldn’t start the Impala sedan fast enough. We raced to the area of the blast, and when we arrived, found a crowd gathered.

I made my way to the center of the group of uniformed and undercover officers as well as civilians. Lying on the ground in a large pool of bright red blood was the motionless suspect. A good portion of his right arm had been blown off, and a large area of flesh on his right side was missing. Two charred purse straps were all that remained of the pocketbook.

“Guess the stakeout’s over,” one of the STAT guys said.

“Yeah, this guy’s boosted his last purse,” my partner added.

“Anybody see this?” a uniformed officer asked.

“We’ll be taking this investigation, officer,” the STAT commander said ominously.

“Yes sir,” the officer said, rolling his eyes. “It’s all yours and I’m outa’ here.”

The ambulance arrived, and after being told how the victim’s injuries were sustained and talking to the Lieutenant, just wrote, “Industrial Accident.” The injured purse-snatcher was transported to Lakeland General Hospital, where he eventually recovered, sued the city and was compensated in an out-of-court settlement.

The STAT team had numerous high level meetings, which were no more that rehearsals of “The Official Story” in case somebody from outside the agency asked. The paper printed an account that left out “some” of the details. Their headlines read, “Searstown Robber Finally Caught” and “Police Chief Credits SWAT Team With 'Innovative' Arrest Techniques."

One of the Tampa television stations recorded an interview with an eyewitness, but it never aired. They were used to having some “whacko” come out of nowhere and swear he had seen everything.

The reporter pushed the microphone into the face of eighty-two year old Silas Cumbee who was from a different era and didn’t even own a television set. Mr. Cumbee had bad speech impediment and a limited vocabulary. Old Silas was coming out of the hardware store when the suspect reached into the station wagon and cradled the purse like an NFL running back cradles a football, heading for the open parking lot.

“What did you see sir?” the young female reporter asked.

“W..w..w..w…w.ell,” the old gent said, grabbing the straps of his bib overalls and spitting some tobacco juice on the sidewalk. The old man seemed to be choosing his words carefully and thoughtfully. He looked at the camera and said seriously, “That damn n..n..n..nigger jis’ blew up."

“Cut...cut...cut...!” yelled the red-faced reporter.

I'll be back next week to fill you in on everything that's happened.

Homicide - Hussey - Human Bomb, Part 1

Here's Part 1 of Detective Hussey's chapter. He calls it Human Bomb. Come back tomorrow for the conclusion.

I guess there comes a time in every cop's life, when he wishes he could circumvent the system, so to speak. You know, go around the rules, regulations and laws and get the bad guy. Some cops actually think the end justifies the means. It doesn’t. It just gets really frustrating when you work day after day within the parameters of the establishment and they let these scumbags go free to terrorize other innocent people.

One such time when the feeling of helplessness had overcome our ability to think clearly, happened in the summer of 1982. We were revisiting our thoughts on Viet Nam. The memorial to the over 50,000 Americans who had lost their lives was dedicated by the President in a moving ceremony. We still weren’t sure how we felt.

A purse-snatcher had been working the Searstown Shopping Center on the Boulevard. Not only had he been working it, but over a period of three weeks had amassed over 30 of, what Florida calls, "Strong-arm robberies." Which means that the perpetrator uses either force or intimidation to separate the unsuspecting victim from his or her pocketbook.

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The news media was making a huge deal about the fact that nine of the victims had been injured—six seriously, requiring hospitalization. All the robberies were committed in broad daylight in front of witnesses. In each case the description was relatively the same.

Black male, 6 feet tall, short hair, several days' growth of beard, wearing white tee shirt, blue jeans, and sneakers.

Several said they could identify the suspect if caught, and others said they had seen the man in the area riding a bicycle. The newspaper couldn’t understand why the police were unable to make an arrest. The Chief of Police couldn’t understand it either. With all of the crack (not current meaning pertaining to cocaine) officers and special equipment the department had, the bad guy should be in jail by now.

Well, as most law enforcement officers know, shit rolls downhill. The City Manager was getting pressure from the public and the media, as well as store owners at the shopping center, who were losing business. The City Manager called the Chief of Police and put pressure on him. The Chief of Police called the Major and chewed his ass. The Major called the Captain and the Captain called the Lieutenant. The Lieutenant called a couple of Sergeants and that’s kinda where I come in.

The Los Angeles Police Department had created a SWAT team. The team was trained in the use of special urban assault weapons and anti-personnel devices not commonly used by the street officer. The idea was that these specially trained officers would be available for call out in the event of an incident requiring their special talents and training. The teams would train together regularly and attend special schools when available. Other police departments soon followed suit, as they usually did in those days.

The Lakeland STAT team was formed in the mid 1970’s as a result of several nationally publicized incidents involving hostages and terrorist activities. Police in urban areas and not so urban areas around the country found themselves ill equipped to handle these heavily armed, sometimes well-trained individuals and groups. A majority of these bad individuals were Vietnam veterans, who were not only well-trained, but heavily armed. A lot of good cops lost their lives as a result of this learning process.

The Lakeland Police Department, not wanting to fall behind, sent representatives to Quantico, Virginia to the F.B.I. Headquarters in 1974 to attend a seminar on urban terrorism. They gleaned just enough information to be dangerous. The committee returned home, a budget request was granted, and the first Lakeland Police Special Weapons Team was born.

I had just been accepted to the Lakeland police “SWAT” team or “STAT” (Special Tactical Alert Team) as it was called. The name was chosen in 1973 when the team was formed, as a result of a contest. The Officer who submitted the new team name would receive a paid day off.

Many entries were submitted, including one that I was particularly fond of: “Fast Action Response Team.” The administration really liked the way it sounded and almost used it, until someone pointed out that the acronym was FART. They then realized they’d been had.... Again. They settled on STAT, because it was different than SWAT.

It was quite an honor to be chosen for this elite group and I was feeling pretty “special” when the team was called together as part of a special “Anti-purse-snatcher” task force.

Most traditional teams consisted of five men, two riflemen, who carried automatic rifles (machine guns), one scout or forward observer, who would gather intelligence and report to the command post, one sniper whose job title is self-explanatory, and one rear guard whose duties were flexible.

If additional personnel were needed, another team, if available would be deployed or bodies would be taken from the patrol division.

If all this sounds a quite militaristic, you’re right. Most of the deployment tactics and weapons were taken from our armed forces. Everything from uniforms to insignia to call signs. When we deployed we looked like we were headed to the jungles of Southeast Asia.

The only problem in Lakeland was that the people chosen for special assignments, such as STAT, were chosen on the basis of either their looks or their popularity. Their level of education, common sense, maturity or training never entered into the decision. In many cases the guys that were assigned to these teams were irrational, almost unstable individuals. When an operation went bad because of some “Rambo” type behavior, the brass would look the other way, even cover up or praise the individuals because the STAT guys were their “boys” and could do no wrong. The purse snatching detail in July of 1982 was just such an incident.


Come back tomorrow for the conclusion.