Conlon's Hard Nose/West Seattle/Thurs Nov 8/11:24 pm: A black man was stopped by Officer Pitts for driving with defective brake lights. ("The brake lights did not illuminate when the suspect vehicle slowed and stopped," claims Officer Pitts.) The black man's next violation was driving without a seat belt. His next violation after that was driving without insurance. "I can't afford insurance," he pleaded. His fourth and final violation was detected by Officer Pitts' partner's (Officer Conlon's) nose. Conlon sniffed the air and smelled the heavy and heady odor of marijuana rising from the driver's window. Officer Conlon asked the black man to step out of the car. The black man stepped outside. Officer Conlon then asked the man if he had any marijuana on him. The black man admitted that he had a little bit in his pocket. Officer Conlon asked to look at his "little bit." The black man showed two small baggies.
Officer Pitts asked him if the grass was for personal use. The black man said it was his one-month supply, which he bought for $200 that day in Burien from a guy called Nuke. Officer Pitts asked him why he had a scale. "So I don't get cheated," the practical black man answered. The SPD requested that the city prosecutor file an RCW 69.50.401E (possession of marijuana) charge against him.
The Fate of a Rat/Central District/Sun Nov 11/12:15 am: A man told reporting officer E. D. Holland that back in 1993, he and several of his associates were involved in narcotics trafficking, which resulted in their arrests. He was charged with conspiracy and decided to testify against his friends to get a lighter sentence. Prior to the 1994 trial, an unknown suspect fired one round into the front door of the man's residence, as an act of intimidation. No other threats were made, and in 1995 he and his former friends began serving their respective sentences.
Once out of the slammer (long before his associates were released, of course), the man became a productive member of society. Life was going well (he got a job, new friends, a family) until November 11, at approximately midnight, when he received a telephone call from a man who said: "You got my friends in trouble. We want $2,500 sent by Western Union. I missed you the first time, but someone is going to get hurt this time around." The ex-convict hung up the phone. The phone rang again. This time the "message machine" answered his past: "You don't know me," said the intimidator, "but you better pay me my money. I want my money sent by Western Union. If you don't straighten this out, you will end up in a pine box."
The ex-convict didn't recognize the caller's voice, nor does he know exactly where he should wire the atonement for his treachery. Officer Holland provided the re-troubled ex-convict with a business card and an incident number.