Vancouver Blue
Описание книги
Wayne Cope has TV to blame for starting him on his long career as an officer of the Vancouver Police Department. He grew up watching gunslingers like James Arness and Richard Boone, inspiring him to join up even before he finished college—and his real-life working career has turned out to be more exciting than he could have hoped. In his years on the force from 1975 to 2006, Cope has seen practically everything on the ever-changing streets of Vancouver—he’s worked as a jailer and a traffic cop, talked people down from bridges, worked on dog squads, gone undercover in pursuit of serious criminals and worked the historical unsolved homicide unit. And behind each assignment, there’s a story, a joke or a revealing insight into the realities of police work. In Vancouver Blue, Cope shares pearls of wisdom and anecdotes inspired by his years on the force, describing some of the most outlandish costumes for undercover drug purchases, many different ways to total a brand-new motorbike, and the precise ratio of competent officers to idiots in any given squad. He also sheds light on the behind-the-scenes life of VPD officers and their off-duty antics. Cope also provides detailed accounts of some of his most fascinating cases, like the sensational Centrefold Murder and the infamous killing of the Stanley Park flamingoes. For those looking for even more insight into the mind of a detective, Cope has created a cipher with a theme inspired by the book, offering a reward of five Canadian Silver Maple Leaf coins to the first person to break the code.
Отрывок из книги
The Empress Hotel beer parlour, or “the Emp,” is a Downtown Eastside watering hole located across the lane from the Main Street police station. Before the Vancouver Police Union built the Police Athletic Club two blocks farther north on Alexander Street, the Emp was the place for police officers to go when their shifts were over, as it offered discreet card tables for a friendly game and “last call” only meant that the staff was about to bar the door to new customers rather than require patrons to leave.
In April 1979 I had been on the job for four years and, after my shift, was at the Emp with six or seven fellow Traffic Division motorcycle trainees, drinking beer and solving all the problems of the world. Elvis had died two years earlier, and after heated debate I had achieved consensus with the group that Johnny Cash was now the world’s greatest living musical entertainer. Having resolved that issue, one of the crew asked me if I had any thoughts about what I wanted to do with my career over the course of the next thirty years. I answered, “Absolutely. I would like to ride the motorcycles for a while, walk the beat, work undercover, continue shooting with the pistol team, be part of a surveillance unit, work as a dog master and investigate murders. I’ve got no aspirations of becoming commissioned as an officer, and if I retire as a sergeant in charge of a good squad of people, that would be just fine with me.” He seemed surprised and said, “You sure seem to have it all worked out.” I responded, “I don’t know about having it all worked out, but I don’t want to look back thirty years from now and say, “That was sure boring.”
.....
Pocket identification I was issued while working in the summer of 1974 at Oakalla Prison Farm.
The west wing was the most dangerous place in Oakalla to work. Prisoners were held there awaiting trial, so they had no way of knowing what, if any, sentence they would be facing, and tempers flared with little warning. It was here that I met Eddy Haymour, generally considered to be one of Canada’s few truly political prisoners. In 1971, he had purchased Rattlesnake Island on Okanagan Lake near Peachand, BC, and proceeded with his plan of turning the island into an Arabian Nights–themed amusement park, to the chagrin of local and provincial politicians. But his project was torpedoed and he was later arrested for making threats, then ultimately incarcerated in Oakalla.
.....