Detectives are gumshoe investigators, not miracle workers
Years ago, it was considered a big deal when a law enforcement officer was being reassigned from uniform patrol to detectives; it was supposed to be fun. It was considered a stepping-stone to a remarkable career. A detective was usually assigned a take-home car and an office with a desk that could be locked.
Being a detective was supposed to be safer than wearing a uniform with shiny regalia. But even with the socalled safer job, detectives still faced perils that couldn’t be trumped by their guardian angel. They couldn’t outrun their demons.
Detectives were generally take-charge kind of people. They had the right attitude, they listened intently, and they took copious notes. In smaller law enforcement agencies, a detective might have been assigned to investigate all crimes. In larger agencies, a detective might be assigned to investigate only one type of crime.
Regardless of the size, one thing remained universal, detectives didn’t always make victims happy. When a personal item was stolen after it was left sitting beside the road, some victims expected an immediate solution to their case. Regardless of the magnitude of the crime, they thought their case was the most important in the world.
The perpetrator may have been fairly obvious to everyone, but legal conviction called for “beyond a reasonable doubt,” not a gut feeling. Detectives didn’t have magic elixirs that gave them X-ray vision or special brain power to solve crimes — they relied on evidence. They used the available facts to indicate whether a belief was true or valid. In many crimes, facts were simply not available. A few people didn’t care about facts, they wanted someone held accountable.
Some victims showed a gleam in their eye as soon as a detective arrived on the scene. They perceived that the detective’s presence ensured their case would be solved.
Scores of suspects tried to change the topic of conversation when questioned, but detectives would devise other ways to ask the same question. They gathered facts, evaluated evidence and handled interviews. They combined the facts, then testified in court about the essential elements of the crime.
In some cases, being reassigned to detectives was a promotion, which came with more money. Along with the money came more expectations. Many hours of outside surveillance in inclement weather was often rewarded with stinging insects and tiny creepy crawly creatures. Like uniformed officers, a detective had a chance of being shot, stabbed, sliced, kicked and slugged. The job may have been rewarding, but it remained hazardous, demanding and mingled with long, irregular hours. Detectives’ strange hours often made it difficult to maintain a normal home life in order to spend quality time with their family.
There was more to being a good detective than having a magnifying glass, a long coat and a fedora. They didn’t need a pencil and paper to add things up. They speculated, theorized and learned how to detect lies. They were able to talk on the same level as their suspect.
Some people thought of detectives just like they did uniform law enforcement officers — demonically deranged autocrats with an evil spirit. In fact, detectives were also sworn to protect people, respond to emergencies and investigate and solve crimes. Most detectives were eager law enforcement officers and determined innovators who ate, slept and lived their job.
Today, social media is fantastic because people can’t resist posting or telling about their every move. Otherwise, detective work hasn’t changed much because oldschool detectives still use a hands-on approach. There are times, however, that cracking a case is like solving a jigsaw puzzle without all the pieces. Investigating some crimes takes a very long time, and some crimes are never solved.
Being reassigned from uniform patrol to detective today is still considered a big deal. Unfortunately, some things remain the same. Many detectives see autopsies and handle investigations that are bizarre, unexplainable and gruesome. Their heart hurts when they see another human being hurt. Many of their cases have a sad ending. They are gumshoe investigators, not miracle workers. They must write and read, and write and read. Unique and interesting, a detective’s day is never just another day.
Charlie Sewell is a retired Powder Springs police chief who lives in Cherokee County. His book “I’d Rather You Call Me Charlie: Reminiscences Filled With Twists of Devilment, Devotion and A Little Danger” is available on Amazon. Email him at retiredchiefsewell@
gmail.com.