Cars That Talk And Other Cop Stories

 One of my own top ten personal experiences took place when I was a criminal investigator involved in a large drug case. In the course of the investigation, we managed to help build a case against a well-known dealer who ended up drawing federal time.

 The dealer had a car – a big flashy job – the kind with fringe in the back window and a bobbing head dog on the dash. It was gaudy and ugly, and it had been towed to a local impound lot. One day my partner and I were given the task of tracking down the car and bringing it to the police department.

 We found it in the impound lot and managed to get it started, but were dismayed to discover that the car was rigged with an alarm system – and not just any alarm system.

 The dealer, not being trusting of other people, didn't just opt for an alarm that clanged or made siren noises. Instead, he recorded his own voice warning people to stay away from the vehicle. And he did it rap style, with plenty of four-letter words. And the whole "performance" went on and on and then recycled itself. Theoretically, one could listen to it until the car's battery ran down.

 "Hey you, yeah you! Step away from my ride. I say don't you put your hands on my ride. You hear, boy? Stay off of my ride…" it went on and on and on. And it was loud, too. And it went off just by brushing against the thing.

 We weren't too thrilled at the idea of driving the car back to the police department, but we had the guy in the impound lot pull a few wires first, which seemed to shut the rapping alarm system down.

 My partner, whose name was Candido Suarez, talked me into driving it back, while he followed in our unmarked police car. I really didn't like driving the thing because I didn't trust it, but I agreed – provided Suarez stayed right behind me. We weren't too certain the car would make it all the way to the police department's parking lot – in fact, it wouldn't even start without help, but we finally managed to get it moving.

  "Step away from my ride, you hear! Step away from my ride!" The car boomed. And then it went into some rather detailed description of what the owner planned to do to the transgressor, and it did it in detail, using some words that would make a cop blush – especially a cop sitting in the driver's seat.

 I sat in the talking car – sinking lower and lower beneath the seat – while my partner arranged to have the vehicle towed back to the police department. The first thing we did when the tow truck arrived was have the alarm disconnected. Then it was towed to the gravel lot near the department, where we toyed with the idea of parking it next to a certain deputy chief's car and reconnecting the alarm. Reason prevailed, however, and we forgot about it, but not because we didn't find the idea appealing.

 It's just that neither of us wanted to spend the rest of our police careers sweeping out the dog pound.

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