Wyatt Earp: King Of The Cluster-Frak

It is usually desirable to find a niche when you start a new job. A specialty, if you will. After three weeks as a “Big City Detective,” I think I have found mine: last-minute cluster-frak jobs. If a complicated, politically-sensitive, racially-charged, cesspool of a job comes into my detective division at the very end of the day, odds are that it is gonna be assigned to me.

My cluster-fraks fall into one of two categories: the b.s. job that even Perry Mason couldn’t solve - with the victim that demands instant justice (with extreme prejudice) and daily progress reports by phone; or the simple argument that suddenly turns into a robbery, an aggravated assault, and a stolen car that gets involved in a police pursuit. There is no middle ground. It has gotten so bad that when one of these jobs comes in, my squad yells, “Hey, give it to Earp!”

Last Saturday night, I didn’t get out of work until 0130, and Tuesday night, I didn’t get out until 0200. (I am usually done at midnight.) So far, I have made more overtime working in the office than I have in court. Not that I’m knocking the extra money . . .

My biggest cluster-frak so far has been a robbery. Two bad guys (one is a juvenile) enter an elderly man’s home (burglary), take his car keys (theft), push him out of the way while they flee the house (assault), and steal the man’s car (theft of auto). A while later, they see the man’s son on the street, and take off, blowing a red light and t-boning a minivan (aggravated assault). The two bad guys jump out of the car and run, but the man’s son catches the adult, who is arrested. The juvenile gets away, and now I have to get a warrant.

See what I mean? Calgon, take me away!