A SWEATY, ROUND-faced kid with a pocked complexion and
wary street eyes squats against a stucco storefront on North Fourth
Avenue. Baggy batik shorts drape across his knees, and a dirty
T-shirt hugs his waist. His head is shaved, and the stubbled scalp
reveals a blue-green tattoo in the shape of something resembling
a duck pond, or perhaps a mottled moon.
He says his name is Chad, but his lips move with little conviction.
At first he starts to rise, presumably to try a little panhandling
or bum a smoke. But, like others along this languid sidewalk,
the summer sun has robbed him of any zest for a quick windfall.
Soon he settles back into semi-slumber, his head hanging like
a pimpled melon.
Today Chad is simply a melancholy remnant of the raucous, under-aged
armies that plagued this district several months back. Grimy and
brazen, the kids grubbed for change and engaged irate merchants
in a steady, absurd game of cat-and-mouse.
But that was before the weather turned cruel--and before the
cat grew claws. These days Fourth Avenue enjoys a recently enacted
ordinance restricting visitors from reclining on the sidewalk.
In turn, that freshly minted law is enforced by beat cops, strolling
in pairs and paid $17 an hour by the business association to ensure
that delinquents like Chad keep moving.
Working off-duty, the officers nonetheless pack pistols and the
steady gaze of authority. Essentially guns for hire, they're buttressed
by all the power of the Tucson Police Department, cloaked in crisp
blue uniforms, but existing in a gray zone of private employment.
They're the best protection money can buy, and if it weren't for
numerous loitering citations noting their unofficial status, you
couldn't tell the difference.
They arrive in TPD cruisers, courtesy of the taxpaying public,
and in apparent violation of city policy. Their moonlighting is
likewise coordinated by an in-house, full-time, highly paid staff
sergeant. Soon, all billing for private employers will be handled
by the city as well, with processing done through TPD and Tucson's
Finance Department.
The idea is to exert more control over such off-duty work. And
in fairness, an extra fee will be exacted from employers like
the Fourth Avenue Merchants Association, ostensibly to cover the
added bureaucratic toil, and for wear-and-tear on police vehicles.
But city officials, from Mayor George Miller on down, were unable
to say whether the pending arrangement will pay for itself, or
who would ultimately be liable if something went wrong. And that
arrangement neglects the larger social costs we all face when
those hired to serve and protect are also available to protect
a select few--for a price.
WHILE THE SITUATION may raise a slew of ethical questions,
ask merchants along this thoroughfare of boutiques, eateries and
thrift stores, and they'll tell you the set-up is a godsend.
Mike Haggerty leans big and bear-like against a bike rack outside
his bead shop, a few feet from where Chad was slumbering only
minutes ago. A former city councilman, Haggerty admits hiring
off-duty police presents a minefield of municipal questions. That
said, Haggerty has yet to witness any explosions, or even any
rumblings.
"They're good working cops," he says. "Joe Romero,
the cop that works the avenue, we call him 'Officer Friendly.'
I think it's worked really well on both sides. As long as we have
the ordinance, they have the right to enforce it. But I don't
think the cops have been heavy-handed about it.
"Is there the potential for abuse just because we've hired
him? Sure, there's always that potential. But it hasn't happened."
Haggerty likens it to earlier times, when neighborhoods were
cozy with their particular men-in-blue. "Maybe a merchant
would give them a couple free oranges, or a free Coke or whatever.
Now you can't do that. But having these officers here provides
a sense of community."
Down the street, Kurt Tallis sits in his busy smokeshop, surrounding
by racks of cigarettes and paraphernalia. Quick and articulate,
Tallis says it wasn't long ago when kids were hanging out front,
harassing customers and driving away business. He also notes the
irony of paying for enforcing the ordinance when on-duty cops
should be handling the job.
"But do I think this has worked well? Absolutely,"
he says. "Then again, I'm not homeless. I don't have that
perspective."
He adds that hiring off-duty cops to walk the avenue gives them
a different feel for the job. "They work here, and they have
to come back here day-in and day-out. They don't want to create
a bad situation with these kids. Maybe it's different because
they're working for us. But all we're looking for is a semblance
of civility, and I don't think our actions have been targeting
the homeless. Also, by hiring Romero, it means that he owns this
area to a degree. That makes it more personal. And that makes
a big difference."
A 1996 STUDY BY the city estimated that individual TPD
cops logged 22,000 off-duty jobs that year, earning them roughly
$3 million in extra pay. All the money was handed to them directly,
sometimes under the table, often in cash. Their employers ranged
from shopping malls and convenience stores to apartment complexes,
and their private bosses were required to hold a minimum of $1
million in liability insurance. At the same time, some cops are
rumored to operate their own de facto employment agencies, lining
up their buddies for favored jobs.
Ultimately, it amounts to one very big, unwieldy business.
To James Fyfe, however, it's all just risky business. A 16-year
veteran of the New York Police Department, now a professor of
criminal justice at Temple University, he's considered a national
expert on police matters. In fact he wrote--or at least revised--the
quintessential cop's bible, simply titled Police Administration.
And he's highly critical of officers hiring out for private security
work.
"I don't have any objection to them working off-duty at
all," he says. "After all, you have to make a living,
to put bread on the table. But it's problematic when the cops
work security jobs. The principal is this: They are trained to
be police officers. And that's a different job than being a security
guard. If you talk to a cop, they'll tell you no security guard
can jump into a cop's job without additional training. And the
reverse is also true.
"A second problem is that during the day when they're working,
they are carrying guns and their badges of authority and the public
interest, and they're supposed to be impartial," he says.
"And working for a private interest negates all that impartiality.
"What they're doing is carrying their guns and badges of
authority in a very partial interest of a private organization.
That's a problem, and it's reared its ugly head in place after
place."
Then comes the liability concerns. "I've been involved in
several civil suits where police officers acting as security guards
have hurt people or even killed them," he says. "Then
the private organization always says, 'Well, this is a cop. This
is on the city. He was supposed to be trained by the city for
this. I don't know anything about this, and the city told me it
was permissible to do this.'
"So what happens then is that the city winds up holding
the bag for actions police officers take when they're working
for a usually very profitable private interest. The liability
all falls upon the police department. The same thing is true when
a cop gets injured. What happens when a Tucson cop wearing a uniform
on a security job becomes permanently disabled? Will the citizens
of Tucson pay forever and ever, when he has sustained this injury
while in uniform on behalf of a private employer?
"And what happens if the off-duty officer sees the employer
doing something? It has led to all types of corruption, and compromised
the whole system of the department."
Ultimately, "I'm not in favor of having cops work as security
people, period," he says. "I think it's a very bad idea.
And I guarantee you that it will come back to bite the city, and
it won't take long."
SGT. EUGENE GONZALES sits in his small, orderly office
in TPD headquarters, taking phone calls and occasionally glancing
out at passers-by. He's a stocky man, polite and helpful, but
also leery. After all, Gonzales has spent 22 years in the department,
most of them on the street, and he's obviously more comfortable
fielding radio calls than questions from a reporter.
His new title is special duty program coordinator. That's a slicked-up
label for off-duty policing, and it's Gonzales' job to screen
the roughly 200 private employers who hire cops. He makes sure
they pay on time, and keeps track of the number off-duty hours
his folks work. It's a full-time gig, and Gonzales is paid about
$70,000 for his trouble.
He says the special duty program is in its infancy. But if plans
hold, by September all off-duty billing will be handled by TPD,
and by the City Finance Department. To cover the extra administration,
along with his salary and that of an assistant, off-duty rates
for basic officers will jump from $17 to $20 an hour. Of that,
$1 an hour will go to the city.
When payroll taxes and Social Security are deducted, the officers
will still be making about $17 hourly. Employers will also have
to kick in $1 an hour, or a mileage rate, for the use of police
cruisers. And none of those off-duty earnings will go towards
pension funds.
Gonzales says the whole point is keeping better tabs on cops.
"Officers will be held more accountable for what they do
in off-duty time, as well as what they do on-duty. That's going
to make it better, not only for our department and the officers,
but especially for the employers. Instead of paying all the officers
individually, they can pay in one lump sum."
Cops are limited to 24 hours
of off-duty work per week, he says, with an eight-hour break required
between off-duty and on-duty stints. "Before, there was no
way to find out if officers were only working 24 hours. Now it's
part of my job to go out and audit jobs, to stop by and make sure
everything is above-board. We want to be up front with everything
we do, because our officers are working under the guise of the
Tucson Police Department."
He also makes sure the cops get paid on time. "Sometimes
employers default, and it makes it difficult when officers try
to collect their money. It puts them in a bad light, making it
look like they're trying to get money from these people, when
in fact they're just trying to collect what they've earned."
At the same time, he dismisses potential conflicts between the
dual roles officers play--such as when they're hired to target
certain individuals or offensive neighbors. "There are certain
things we can't do procedurally, even if the employer wants us
to," he says. "They're paying us to be there and enforce
the law, and doing the right thing is just part of that. The officers
are doing private for-hire work, but they're still doing law-enforcement
work, and they're still under all the rules and guidelines of
TPD."
Besides, he says his officers fill a special niche. "As
compared to private security companies, we offer a different service.
We offer everything that law enforcement in the City of Tucson
can offer, arrest powers, vehicles, that sort of stuff. So the
employer gets a little more credibility, and a little more security.
Some people will look at a security guy and sometimes just not
listen to them, just blow them off. People won't do that to a
cop."
Gonzales also subtly notes that officers wouldn't have to moonlight
if the city paid them better. "Does everybody do it?"
he asks. "Nope. But quite a few do--that's how they make
ends meet. And it takes away from their home life, takes time
away from their family."
ANNUAL PAY FOR Tucson cops starts at about $30,000, with
captains averaging a little over $70,000. Last May, the City Council
rejected a TPD request for 7.5 to 10 percent raises. Instead,
officers got the same 4.5 to 7 percent hike as other city employees
But while the cops may be floating in the same salary boat as
fellow city staffers, they are unique in the ability to use city
vehicles to earn extra cash--despite municipal policies barring
such use.
According to a 1994 city administrative directive, "outside
employment (of city workers) shall not involve the use of facilities,
equipment or supplies of the City of Tucson, unless these services
are available to the general public."
In other words, those cruisers--purchased and maintained by taxpayers--shouldn't
be used for off-duty work unless all citizens get a chance behind
the wheel, or at least a cut of the profits.
("The analogy would be letting Parks and Recreation people
use their department trucks to do landscaping on the weekends,"
says one observer.)
Asked about that apparent policy snafu, most city leaders plead
ignorance. For his part, Mayor Miller seemed particularly uninformed
about TPD's off-duty habits.
Questioned about using cop cars for private profit, Miller replies:
"A city vehicle can only be used for city business. In the
case of higher executives, part of their contract includes having
a city vehicle. They can use it going back and forth to work.
Now if somebody is using it for other than city business, then
the vehicle either should be taken away from them and they should
be reprimanded, or they should be fined. It's just not the way
it's supposed to be."
When told that's the way it is at TPD, the Mayor says, "Well,
then something they earn should be returned to the city."
In this case, the return for use of a $30,000 car--without figuring
maintenance costs--is $1 dollar per hour.
Asked whether running a private business through the police department
is sound policy, Miller says, "I don't know--never thought
about it, to be honest with you. I just don't know how to answer
that question. There doesn't have to be, but I assume there was
a rationale for that, to control the off-duty work and keep it
so the police department feels they have control over it. It may
be that the City Manager and the Chief of Police figure this as
an administrative thing, and I believe it is."
While appallingly short on specifics, the Mayor does darkly allude
to questionable off-duty machinations at TPD: "Say I'm an
officer and you're an officer, and I'll get you a job," he
says, "and I get a cut of what you get paid.
"I think there's an attempt to avoid that, which is not
good for the morale of the rank-and-file officers, who then become
beholden to somebody who's running this kind of a business."
(Sgt. Gonzales adamantly denies that the cops run such operations.
"That would be pretty illegal," he says.)
But if the Mayor is right, does that mean reforming the department's
evil ways is the taxpayer's responsibility? "I haven't gone
into this thing in detail," Miller says. "I've briefly
seen some memos and that's about it. But I don't think it's going
to cost the city any more money."
Concerning additional costs coming from another quarter, namely
increased liability risks, Miller simply referred The Weekly
to the City Attorney.
Asked the same question, City Attorney Thomas Berning says that
"although there are areas of concern because we're covering
people for off-duty employment, it hasn't been too much of a problem,
because private insurance has usually taken care of whatever problems
exist. And I think (TPD) is pretty good, with this program, at
making sure that liability coverage actually exists (with private
employers)."
He says any risk arises from agreements with the cops' union,
called the Tucson Police Officers Association.
"We are exposing ourselves to liability we would not otherwise
have," he says. "But it's all part of the bargaining
process with TPOA. I think we're getting something in return,
when you can see how happy the policemen are because of it."
According to Randy Stenquist, liability claims involving
off-duty cops have been few, at least in the seven years he's
been a claims coordinator with the city's Risk Management Department.
"There have only been a couple as I recall," he says,
adding that neither went to court."
"One involved a man who was shopping in a grocery store.
An officer thought she saw him shoplifting, and then attempted
to arrest him. We ended up settling a claim for that one, for
something under $1,000."
He says the second incident occurred on the east side, when off-duty
cops detained three or four men at a shopping center. The men
later filed a claim saying their rights had been violated, and
the city settled, splitting the $5,000 pay-out with the center's
private insurer.
Either way, Stenquist says, from his perspective off-duty cops
"are police officers, no matter what they're doing. If something
happens, they immediately change from being a private citizen
to being a Tucson Police officer."
PAUL GATTONE IS staff attorney for the non-profit Southern
Arizona People's Center. In that role he's fought the city--and
nearby merchants--over the sidewalk ordinance and how's it's enforced.
Standing alongside a rattling swamp cooler in the center's humble
Fourth Avenue headquarters, he raises questions about off-duty
policing that go far beyond mere liability questions.
He pulls out a ream of citations issued against kids and other
loiterers since the statute went into effect. Of those 24 citations,
he says, 16 were issued by off-duty officers.
To him, it reeks of specialized enforcement--and harassment--by
an employer with deep pockets. "For example, if the cops
are acting under the direction of private merchants, are they
still liable for civil-rights violations?" he asks. "That's
really problematic for me, when police officers can be hired by
a special group of people to enforce their own special laws."
In that situation, he asks, are the cops beholden just to the
merchants, or to everybody else as well?
"It's really murky. When somebody's paying you $20 an hour,
who are you going to help first?"
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