Sometimes the protective devices we work so hard to put in place turn on us. Such is the case with the Ten Codes and Signals used by cops. Now the standard of the good buddies on the CB--10-4--they originated for law enforcement use. There was a code for most activities or occurrences. Easy to understand, foolproof. Almost.
Once got one a Signal 41, at the time Armed Robbery. It had just occurred at a local gas station. There was a good description of the vehicle, with a New York plate, and, as luck would have it, it was two cars in front of me. I pulled the car over, drew my gun and ordered the two male passengers to get out, hands up. They complied and I put them spread eagle, belly down on the highway. It was Summer and the asphalt was blistering hot. Or so they claimed as they squirmed around like worms on a griddle while I stood over them, gun cocked, ready to blow their felonious asses away at the slightest mis-step.
One of our cars pulled in for backup, and gave me a quizzical look. "You're a hard man, G.D." he said.
"Don't mess with armed robbers," I said.
"Armed robbers? Hell, they ain't armed robbers. Got in an argument with the station attendant, and knocked over the oil can pyramid display on the way out. Vandalism, at the most. I took the call."
Then I knew what had happened. Vandalism was Signal 40, Armed robbery Signal 41. The dispatcher had mis-read the signal list. It happened.
I got the two miscreants up, dusted them off, and arrested them for Vandalism, a very minor misdemeanor, about 100 miles away from Armed Robbery. They were two jerks anyway, but I would've have pulled my gun on them and put them on the griddle if I'd know it was a piddly offense.
But there's a bright side to most things if you dig for it. "No harm done," my partner said in a low voice. "And you can bet your bippie this is two Yankees ain't never gonna visit Naples again."
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