Jeff started working at the Sheriff’s six months before I did. He was an investigator, I was an administrative assistant. I got fired after nine years, in 1986. Jeff went on to become an assistant director. On April 27 he starts a seven-month prison term for fixing deputy tests.
After only one week of gun school I was legally authorized to carry a gun. I even got a low-numbered gold badge because I was an office supervisor.
But they all liked guns.
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“Make sure you give him the directions clearly. Touch all bases with him.” His way of telling me to pass the flunker. Didn’t help. Usually they scored lower on the second go-round. The next step was bribery.
Two dummies come in and ask about their applications.
This guy made one mistake. He stayed in the same spot too long. His dummies wised up and decided to check. We moved fast. Some of our real police-type deputies set up a deal on him and took him down in just two days. A very Chicago kind of crime, complete with a moral: the police don’t tolerate outsiders messing on their turf.
One of my bosses was a smoothy. He could really butter on the blarney. I had his number in a week. He lasted two years. OK to work for. Let you do anything as long as you let him do anything and kept your mouth shut. He’d worked in private industry and left suddenly when they took a close look at his operations. A heavy relative got him the job with our office.
