Things I got away with as a cop in the 1970s wouldn’t fly today. A case in point was the kidnapping of a wooden Indian for ransom and the way I recovered it.
Tom, a local kid in his 20s, got banned from Gordon’s, a popular bar in town, for being habitually disruptive and bothering other customers. A life-sized wooden Indian stood in the foyer of Gordon’s to welcome patrons to the establishment. Late one evening, the Indian disappeared. Mr. Gordon called the police to report the theft. I was the detective assigned to the case.
A couple of days later, Tom phoned the club and asked to talk to Mr. Gordon personally. He told Mr. Gordon that he had heard about the Indian getting stolen and if Gordon would lift the ban on him coming into the place, Tom would see if he could recover the Indian for him.
Every cop in town was familiar with Tom. Public intoxication, picking fights, petty theft, disorderly conduct, and just generally being a nuisance — all very minor stuff. The kid was a jerk and a pest to a lot of people, but not a serious problem. Kidnapping a wooden Indian and holding it for ransom was just the kind of brainless stunt he would pull.
I had a friend, Billy, who worked at a local garage. Billy helped me from time to time, so I called him and we hatched a plan. Tom lived in a run-down rental house with a couple of other like-minded boys. I bought a six-pack of beer to use as bait and Billy and I set up surveillance on the house.
After Tom left for work the next day, Billy took the beer, walked up to the front door of the house and knocked. One of the other boys answered. Billy said he was a friend of Tom’s from out of town. He was just passing through and had stopped by to say hi. He told the kid he had picked up a six-pack because he had about a half hour to kill before he had to get back on the road. Naturally, the kid invited him in to share the beer.
A half hour later, Billy came back out and reported that as expected, the wooden Indian was there. It was in the living room with a sheet draped over it.
I ran a search warrant, recovered the hostage and returned it to Gordon’s, and charged Tom with misdemeanor possession of stolen property. Mr. Gordon did not lift the ban on Tom but made it permanent.
As any police officer or lawyer would instantly point out today, what I did in enlisting Billy’s help was a gross violation of Tom’s rights. Billy was my agent and as such his entry into the house constituted an illegal search. Back in the 1970s when this occurred, however, I’m not even sure any court decision delineated between an agent and a confidential informant. And if they did, police training was so inadequate that I was totally unaware of the distinction anyway.
So Tom got another misdemeanor on his record, Gordan’s got their wooden Indian back, and Tom got banned for life from the place. Perhaps justice was served in spite of my infringement of Tom’s rights. Today? I’d probably get fired and maybe end up in jail myself.