Up against the wall, rapist!
My codriver and I were at a truckstop in Kentucky, having late dinner/early breakfast. He went back to the truck and I stayed inside reading the paper and drinking coffee. A while later, a cop comes in and asks for me by name. I identified myself and he walked me out. I wanted to ask him what was up but I figured he'd tell me when he was ready. I figured maybe my codriver had a heart attack and asked the rescue people to get me from inside.
"But when we got to the scene of the crime," to quote Arlo Guthrie, which was the truck, I saw a few police cars but no rescue squad, and my codriver was being questioned by a fairly hot cop-ette. The cops then tell me that they're investigating a rape in Tennessee. "HUNH?" I say.
Well, it turns out a woman in Tennessee reported being raped by a driver from my company. The cops in TN called my company and got the number and current location of all the trucks that had passed through there around the time of the crime, of which we were one, but we had arrived in Kentucky by then. So the TN cops called the KY cops, who were neighborly enough to come out to the truckstop and visit with us. The cop-ette, who unfortunately didn't frisk either of us, wrote down our description and clothing and such, which didn't match what the victim had reported. The cops mentioned that it was a guy with a limp and they had a partial truck number. After a while, the cops had their fill of fun and went away.
Next morning, I'm in the restaurant eating breakfast, still thinking about this incident, when I see a guy leaving the restaurant, and he's limping. I thought, "Hey, it'd be funny if that was him." I watch the guy walk out, and GET INTO A CARGO VAN LEASED ON TO OUR COMPANY! (This was an expedite company.) I looked at the unit number, and the partial number the cops gave us last night was a match! IT WAS HIM!
I normally mind my own business, but in the case of a rape or other violent crime, it's time to call the law. So I kept an eye on him in case he pulled away, but called the cops, told them how we were jacked up the night before but how the real perp was here now. Told them which lot he was parked in, what he was driving, etc.
A few minutes later, in roll several police cars, but instead of coming to the front, they go back to the truck lot in back and jack up my codriver again. I had called him while waiting for the cops and he knew what was up so he knew to send them around front. I still had to flag them down. They rolled up on the perp and boxed him in and spent at least 20 minutes talking to him there. I was amazed when I saw him put the van in gear and drive away. The cop who talked to me told me his story was that the woman was a hooker and the incident was a dispute over payment for substandard or otherwise questionable services rendered, and that due to the circumstances, instead of cuffing and stuffing him, they were letting him follow them down to the "police officer station" (more Arlo) to make a statement.
It was an interesting few hours.
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"If you put the federal government in charge of the Sahara Desert, in five years there'd be a shortage of sand." --Milton Friedman
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