Joseph Wambaugh - The Blue Knight

I was waiting to be recalled and I was ready even though my right knee trembled and made me mad as hell, and then the judge said to the public defender and the D.A., “Will counsel please approach the bench?”

Then I knew it was all over and Landry was making noises and I could feel the shark grin as his head was turned toward me. I just stared straight ahead like a zombie and wondered if I’d walk out of this courtroom in handcuffs for perjury, because anybody in the world could see that dumb shit Homer Downey was telling the stone truth and didn’t even know what the P.D. was doing to me.

When they came back to the table after talking with the judge, the D.A. smiled woodenly at me and whispered, “It was the name on the register. When the public defender realized that Homer didn’t know Landry’s real name, he asked him about the register. It was the register that opened it all up for him. She’s going to dismiss the case. I don’t know what to advise you, Officer. I’ve never had anything like this happen before. Maybe I should call my office and ask what to do if…”

“Would you care to offer a motion to dismiss, Mister Jeffries?” asked the judge to the public defender, who jumped to his feet and did just that, and then she dismissed the case, and I hardly heard Landry chuckling all over the place and I knew he was shaking hands with that baby-faced little python that defended him. Then Landry leaned over the public defender and said, “Thanks, stupid,” to me, but the P.D. told him to cool it. Then the bailiff had his hand on my shoulder and said, “Judge Redford would like to see you in her chambers,” and I saw the judge had left the bench and I walked like a toy soldier toward the open door. In a few seconds I was standing in the middle of this room, and facing a desk where the judge sat looking toward the wall which was lined with bookcases full of law books. She was taking deep breaths and thinking of what to say.

“Sit down,” she said, finally, and I did. I dropped my hat on the floor and was afraid to stoop down to pick it up I was so dizzy.

“In all my years on the bench I’ve never had that happen. Not like that. I’d like to know why you did it.”

“I want to tell you the truth,” I said and my mouth was leathery. I had trouble forming the words. My lips popped from the dryness every time I opened my mouth. I had seen nervous suspects like that thousands of times when I had them good and dirty, and they knew I had them.

“Maybe I should advise you of your constitutional rights before you tell me anything,” said the judge, and she took off her glasses and the bump on her nose was more prominent. She was a homely woman and looked smaller here in her office, but she looked stronger too, and aged.

“The hell with my rights!” I said suddenly. “I don’t give a damn about my rights, I want to tell you the truth.”

“But I intend to have the district attorney’s office issue a perjury complaint against you. I’m going to have that hotel register brought in, and the phone company’s repairman will be subpoenaed and so will Mister Downey of course, and I think you’ll be convicted.”

“Don’t you even care about what I’ve got to say?” I was getting mad now as well as scared, and I could feel the tears coming to my eyes, and I hadn’t felt anything like this since I couldn’t remember when.

“What can you say? What can anyone say? I’m awfully disappointed. I’m sickened in fact.” She rubbed her eyes at the corners for a second and I was busting and couldn’t hold on.

“ You’re disappointed? You’re sickened? What the hell do you think I’m feeling at this minute? I feel like you got a blowtorch on the inside of my guts and you won’t turn it off and it’ll never be turned off, that’s what I feel, Your Honor. Now can I tell the God’s truth? Will you at least let me tell it?”

“Go ahead,” she said, and lit a cigarette and leaned back in the padded chair and watched me.

“Well, I have this snitch, Your Honor. And I’ve got to protect my informants, you know that. For his own personal safety, and so he can continue to give me information. And the way things are going in court nowadays with everyone so nervous about the defendant’s rights, I’m afraid to even mention confidential informants like I used to, and I’m afraid to try to get a search warrant because the judges are so damn hinky they call damn near every informant a material witness, even when he’s not. So in recent years I’ve started… exploring ways around.”

“You’ve started lying.”

“Yes, I’ve started lying! What the hell, I’d hardly ever convict any of these crooks if I didn’t lie at least a little bit. You know what the search and seizure and arrest rules are like nowadays.”

“Go on.”

Then I told her how the arrest went down, exactly how it went down, and how I later got the idea about the traffic warrant when I found out he had one. And when I was finished, she smoked for a good two minutes and didn’t say a word. Her cheeks were eroded and looked like they were hacked out of a rocky cliff. She was a strong old woman from another century as she sat there and showed me her profile and finally she said, “I’ve seen witnesses lie thousands of times. I guess every defendant lies to a greater or lesser degree and most defense witnesses stretch hell out of the truth, and of course I’ve seen police officers lie about probable cause. There’s the old hackneyed story about feeling what appeared to be an offensive weapon like a knife in the defendant’s pocket and reaching inside to retrieve the knife and finding it to be a stick of marijuana. That one’s been told so many times by so many cops it makes judges want to vomit. And of course there’s the furtive movement like the defendant is shoving something under the seat of the car. That’s always good probable cause for a search, and likewise that’s overdone. Sure, I’ve heard officers lie before, but nothing is black and white in this world and there are degrees of truth and untruth, and like many other judges who feel police officers cannot possibly protect the public these days, I’ve given officers the benefit of the doubt in probable cause situations. I never really believed a Los Angeles policeman would completely falsify his entire testimony as you’ve done today. That’s why I feel sickened by it.”

“I didn’t falsify it all. He had the gun. It was under the mattress. He had the marijuana. I just lied about where I found it. Your Honor, he’s an active bandit. The robbery dicks figure him for six robberies. He’s beaten an old man and blinded him. He’s…”

She held up her hand and said, “I didn’t figure he was using that gun to stir his soup with, Officer Morgan. He has the look of a dangerous man about him.”

“You could see it too!” I said. “Well…”

“Nothing,” she interrupted. “That means nothing. The higher courts have given us difficult law, but by God, it’s the law!”

“Your Honor,” I said slowly. And then the tears filled my eyes and there was nothing I could do. “I’m not afraid of losing my pension. I’ve done nineteen years and over eleven months and I’m leaving the Department after tomorrow, and officially retiring in a few weeks, but I’m not afraid of losing the money. That’s not why I’m asking, why I’m begging you to give me a chance. And it’s not that I’m afraid to face a perjury charge and go to jail, because you can’t be a crybaby in this world. But Judge, there are people, policemen, and other people, people on my beat who think I’m something special. I’m one of the ones they really look up to, you know? I’m not just a character, I’m a hell of a cop!”