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Miranda RightsMost of us know about our right to remain silent from the prevalence in which cops use Miranda Rights while arresting fictitious criminals on TV and in film; the words are an expected part of criminal procedure. Unfortunately, the first time he heard those words was at the age of 13. The Polite ThiefThe burglary started around 7 a.m. on a sunny Saturday. The night before she had gone to bed nude. Her bed was beneath a French window. When she awoke that morning, she looked at her clock, and beyond that the window, and beyond that a man’s face. Tags: California, crime
Rest Stop for a High Plains DrifterHe was getting desperate; his stomach was grumbling and the heat and humidity were taking their toll. When he saw the open window peeking at him he headed for it, checked the area for onlookers, and flipped out his pocketknife. He cut open the screen and slipped in. The M.E.’s OfficeThe room contains autopsy tables of the mortal remains of people who have lived lives full of stories, possibly happy ones, but have come to woe. All “unnatural” deaths end up here, whether they died under mysterious circumstances or are known to be victims of crime. Good IntentionsThe morning of the rape she was just out of the shower when someone knocked on the door. In her robe, she peered out the peephole. “What the…. Wes, what are you doing here?” “I need to talk to you,” Wes said, holding his baseball cap in his hands and looking at his shoes. The 95 Cent CrimeMeekly, he followed the security guard into the store and all the way to the back. A few people looked at them curiously, but most didn’t even notice, since the guard was thoughtful enough not to lead him by the wrist. Still, his face was burning with humiliation. It’s A Wonderful LifeIt had been the easiest thing in the world to do. Open a checking account with a few dollars, go back in a week and cash a check. The checks weren’t theirs; they were stolen. What made it even easier was the machine Rick stole also that punched in the amount of the check. The PrisonerFrom this position, he foists hopes and fears on his cousin at once. But who can say? They may both end their days dry and alone on cement floors in different cities of the world, after conflict or peace, in fury or sleep, remembered or forgotten, in some place beyond hope and fear. Mug ShotIt happened like this: She had just walked half a block from home, along a brick-paved path heading downtown, when suddenly somebody grabbed her arm and squeezed hard. It wasn’t a “happy to see you” squeeze. “Hand it over, bitch!” he commanded. Tags: Connecticut, crime
En CuencaFrom behind the market stalls burst three men in ski masks who surrounded the cab. They were holding what appeared to be black blobs in their hands, like the kind that block out body parts on television, or obscure an anonymous source’s face. But the blobs were handguns.   |
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