Document-ary film panned
EVERGREEN — On the afternoon of Jan. 29, the angry Stagecoach Boulevard woman called JCSO to report that her grandmother and mother had ripped up both her high school diploma and her husband’s military paperwork. Grandma and Ma denied the charges, insisting that, in fact, the complainant’s husband had ripped up her high school diploma some months before following a domestic argument, and that neither of them had ever seen the husband’s military paperwork and had no idea where he kept it. Faced with those contradicting statements, the complainant played her ace in the hole. “I have them on motion camera taking the papers,” she said triumphantly. Officers asked to review the footage, and watched with interest as Ma “looked around on (the complainant’s) desk and then walked away.” As far as deputies could make out, the tape showed nothing in Ma’s hands as she walked away, and it provided “no evidence that she took the items.” Officers deemed the charges unfounded.
BOLO for Tom Clancy
EVERGREEN — At first blush, it seemed like the case of a lifetime. According to the breathless Northwoods Drive resident, by the dark of the moon a few days before, his dog had become agitated. When he let the animal out, it made a beeline for the garage. A scream rang out “as if the dog was biting someone,” and when it returned to the house, he found the creature uninjured but sporting traces of fresh blood on its legs. Looking outside, the man spied a black-clad figure crouched “on the back roof” toting “a Mack 10 with a tripod and laser.” Nearby he perceived two other furtive forms slinking around by flashlight. The complainant believed the assault team was after the non-operational motorcycle in his garage. Since then, he continued, his house had been “broken into and ransacked,” with stolen items ranging from food to clothing. Finding no evidence of either paramilitary assault or burglary, officers asked if anybody could corroborate his statements. He directed them to his wife, who was staying with her mother. His wife said she couldn’t speak to night-creeping Ninjas but freely admitted taking all the missing stuff with her when she moved out a few weeks before following an argument. Officers concluded it was a case of an overwrought imagination.
The Canine Incident
CONIFER — The complainant was taking his peace-loving pup for a life-affirming stroll on the morning of Jan. 29 when the neighbors’ more martially minded Rhodesian ridgeback declared war. The ridgeback’s owner appeared in her driveway, where she immediately spilled the contents of her purse all over the ground and spent the next crucial moments of the engagement trying to collect her scattered belongings while ineffectively hollering at her dog to fall back. When the dust settled, Mrs. Ridgeback approached the complainant and offered to examine his pup for injury. The complainant tersely declined the gesture and retreated behind his own property lines. A few minutes later, Mr. Ridgeback knocked on the complainant’s door and politely asked after his dog’s well-being. Upon learning that the shell-shocked pooch would live to stroll another day, Mr. Ridgeback, apparently angry about the complainant’s curt dismissal of Mrs. Ridgeback, shed all pretense of diplomacy and began raining F-bombs and abuse down on his head. When Mr. Ridgeback finally retired from the field, the complainant called JCSO to explore the possibility of harassment charges. The Ridgebacks, he told deputies, are an ongoing problem in the neighborhood, and their Rhodesian storm trooper has been reported to Animal Control on several occasions. After getting the full poop, officers said there probably wasn’t enough to support a harassment charge, but there was plenty to warrant a heads-up to Animal Control. That was satisfactory to the complainant, who said he merely wanted Peace in Our Time, and feared lest-punitive action against the excitable Ridgebacks could result in mutually assured destruction.
KITTREDGE — The camera doesn’t lie, she told deputies. According to her report of Jan. 29, she’d discreetly placed a personal surveillance camera “on a TV dinner tray” and placed the tray “in a place where only I would know about it.” While at work a few days later, she’d received cyber-notice that the camera was recording activity inside her home, but the footage she pulled up on her computer showed no intruders within camera range. At home that afternoon, she concluded that a person or persons unknown had entered the residence in a way to leave no trace, had “pointed the camera in a slightly different direction,” and had departed without taking anything or disturbing anything else. She said lots of people know she’s self-surveilling, making for a sizable list of potential suspects. Deputies asked if the list included her brand-new pet pit bull, which was home alone at the time of the alleged crime. She insisted the dog would have no motive to move the camera. Officers could find no motive to follow up on the case.