L.A.’s Last Street Cop: Surviving Hollywood Freaks, the Aryan Brotherhood, and the L.A.P.D.'s Homicidal Vendetta Against Me by Al Moreno

Author:Al Moreno [Moreno, Al]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781734449716
Publisher: Highpoint Lit
Published: 2020-05-03T20:00:00+00:00

5

Scorched Earth

IT WAS SUCH A JOY to get back to work after all of that incalculable lament. I was back with my favorite partner, John Gamble, and we were tearing it up. By now, I had accumulated twenty-six commendations and had become one of the top producers at Hollywood Division.

But I needed to leave the armpits of the department (patrol). I started studying for the upcoming Policeman III test. One needed to be a two-striper (P-III) to qualify for any specialized unit. I had my sights on Metropolitan Division (METRO), the department dragon-slayers. No radio calls for that lot; they specialized in handling major crime within the city. Once in METRO, I planned for a spot in S.W.A.T., but that would take another three to four years, at best.

I may have just been working patrol at this time in Hollywood, but it was a joy to work with some of L.A.’s best cops, and there was plenty of excrement to clean off the streets. Unlike the five divisions east of Hollywood in Central Bureau next door—Rampart, Central, Newton, Northeast, and Hollenbeck—there was little to no gang war in Hollywood. On occasion, there would be a flare-up between Barrio Westside Rebels 13 and Clanton-14. Clanton was an old-school Hispanic gang with roots that dated back to the 1920s. It originated on Clanton Street, but the city fathers changed the street name to fourteenth Street to downplay the existence of the gang and its crime. The city government did the same thing not too long ago when they changed the name of South Central Los Angeles to South Los Angeles. That didn’t change a damn thing—ask the residents!

I had finally learned my lesson about not planning on getting off on time, but just the same, I’m a hopeless optimist.

I met Maria Elena at the Short Stop a few weeks before Dad passed away. She was a business major attending UCLA on a student visa. She was from the gorgeous city of Playa del Carmen, about forty-five minutes south of Cancun, Mexico.

She was a bit short, but had a drop-dead gorgeous figure. She spoke good English and was from a well-to-do family. Of all her blessings, she had the prettiest long hair I had ever seen on a woman: It was really thick and light-brown with streaks of blond, no doubt from European ancestry. She was very fair skinned, with lovely brown bedroom eyes and full lips.

Maria Elena had an apartment up the hill south of Sunset Boulevard, not far from the Short Stop. I was supposed to meet her and her roommate, Matilda, also on a student visa from Playa del Carmen, at the Short Stop after work.

Although John was recently married to a beautiful lady, he still needed an occasional night out with the boys for an exorcism of sorts to drive out dealing with Satan’s children. We were both set on doing whatever it took to get off on time that night.

At 1920 hours, we got a Code-3 call. It

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