I was a cop for many years and, during that time, I witnessed a ton of dumb acts committed by criminals. I’ve also been privy to a number of really stupid things done by my fellow officers. One of my favorite tales occurred during the days when I did quite a bit of undercover work. The story involves two plainclothes detectives—my partner and me—a murder suspect, a handgun, and a pair of blue jeans. The event unfolded something like this…

It was a dark and stormy…sorry, I couldn’t resist. Actually, the night was clear, hot, and very humid—a typical southern night. It was a perfect night for catfishing, beer-drinking, and murder. Unfortunately, I was working and had just finished kicking in the front door of a crack-house. The raid had gone well—textbook well—and we’d recovered several stolen guns in addition to a fair amount of cocaine.

My partner and I were sitting in my unmarked car, discussing the raid, when we heard the traffic come across our radio (that’s swanky cop-speak that just means the dispatcher was telling us something) about a murder. She gave the BOLO (more fancy cop-talk meaning Be On The Lookout) for a man who had just shot and killed another man during an argument over a card game. The suspect had fled on foot and, lo and behold, his last known location was only four blocks from where we sat in the parking lot.

I acknowledged the radio transmission and replaced the microphone back in its holder. Just as I did the shooter ran from behind a building and crossed the lot not ten feet from the passenger side of my car. My partner opened his door and immediately began to pursue the suspect on foot.

Now, chasing a suspect through backyards while dodging barking dogs and clotheslines, is a difficult enough task without the added weight of a handgun tucked into the rear waistband of your pants. In fact, carrying an unsecured, loaded weapon is quite dangerous, but some officers do it anyway—especially undercover officers. My former partner was about to learn first-hand just how dangerous this foolish practice could be.

I called in our location and ran in the direction I had last seen my partner. The alley where the two had gone ended at a three-foot-tall chain-link fence. As I hopped over, I heard my partner yell for the shooter to drop his weapon. There was no moon, and I couldn’t see either man. I ran a couple of steps in the direction of my partner’s voice and heard a single gunshot. I stopped, called in a “shots-fired” call on my portable radio, and proceeded forward, although I was moving a lot slower now.

I didn’t want to call on the radio again, in case my partner had taken a position of cover. I stood still and listened. I heard two voices, talking, just ahead. I stepped into the backyard of a residence where I saw my partner lying on the ground, with the shooter kneeling beside him. Suspecting the man had shot my coworker, I ordered him to place both hands in the air. I moved into a position to handcuff the man and asked my partner if he was all right. He told me he had been wounded, but not by the suspect. He said the suspect had come to his aid when he heard the gunshot. I was confused. Was there another shooter?

My partner—through moans, whimpers, and four-letter words—explained how he had slipped his gun into the rear waistband of his jeans before he started the foot chase. He had reached a fence and, when he tried to climb it, the gun fell inside his pants. He stopped, tried to fish out the weapon, and accidentally pulled the trigger, shooting himself in a place where the sun never shines. The shooting suspect thought, at first, that my partner had shot at him, so he stopped running and returned to surrender. When he saw the officer lying on the ground, he chose to try to help.

My partner received stitches, and couldn’t sit for quite a while. He was also the “butt” of jokes for many years, but things managed to work out for him in the end, anyhow.

Have any of you guys had a day at work that turned out to be a real pain in the ass?

Lee Lofland Author of Police Procedure and Investigation, A Guide For Writers, is a guy that will make you wish you could write like that and copy his sexy Southern accent. Read more about Lee or have him speak at your meeting or conference - go to www.leelofland.com