Walk a Block in His Crocs

WALK A BLOCK IN HIS CROCS

PRESENT DAY

“So, Detective Waits, can you tell the court what happened after receiving a call at 9:49 a.m, during your regular day shift on January 23, 2022,” asked the Crown Attorney, Clarice Simms.

“My partner, Carlos Ito and I were directed to attend a call for a bank robbery at Main and Chestnut. We arrived at 9:53 a.m., four minutes after receiving the call.”

“Can you describe to the court what happened when you arrived at the scene?”

“Uniformed officers Bench and Tallos arrived at the same time as Detective Ito and I. They moved to secure the scene, and round up all of the people who were in the bank at the time of the robbery. After speaking with the branch manager, Ms. Kitty Killington, Detective Ito and I started interviews, immediately. We quickly realized that the teller, Mrs. Janice Best, and Mr. Craig Mitchell, a customer, had direct contact with the perpetrator. I interviewed Mrs. Best, Detective Ito interviewed Mr. Mitchell …”

JANUARY 23, 2002

We had been at the bank for about five minutes, and I was trying to figure out what exactly had happened. 

“Okay,” I asked the teller, Janice Best, whose window had been robbed. “Tell me again, what exactly happened when the suspect entered the bank.”

“So, this guy comes in the bank, and he’s got a hat on, and a COVID mask. I didn’t realize that he had a pair of pantyhose on his face until he got to my window.” She paused, trying to get the right words for me. “I realized that he had the pantyhose on his head, because he kept pulling at the gusset — you know, the little cotton lining on the inside of the crotch of a pair of pantyhose?”

I nodded. 

“Well, he’d accidentally put the gusset over his eyes, and he couldn’t see properly, I guess, because he was pulling at it, his hat fell off … and well, the legs of the pantyhose fell out from under his hat, and they looked like rabbit ears. At first I thought it was some kind of prank, and I started to laugh. But it wasn’t. The robber got angry at me for laughing, and showed me his gun. I stopped laughing. He shook his gun at me and told me — and I quote — ‘Shut the fuck up, and put the money on the counter, and back away.’ Which I did. I’m pretty sure I was holding my hands up — I’m not sure. You’ll have to watch the video. But I did manage to set off the silent alarm when I took the money out of the drawer.”

“Good,” I said. “What happened next?”

“Well, I’m pretty sure this was his first bank robbery. He had a white plastic bag in one hand and the gun in the other, and well, he couldn’t get the money into the bag. He was getting frustrated because he didn’t want to put the gun down, but he was going to have to if he wanted to put the money in the bag. So Mr. Mitchell over there—“ she pointed to the man Ito, was interviewing, “— stepped up and offered to put the money in the bag for him. Mr. Mitchell stuffed all the money into the bag, and the robber left.”

“Anything else you can remember? Any impressions?”

“Well, he was wearing Crocs.”

It had snowed the night before, and about six inches of snow had been dumped on the city. Because the snowfall had just ended, only the main streets had been plowed. No one in their right mind would wear Crocs in this weather. But then again, he had been wearing pantyhose on his face, so there was that.

“They had a tie-dyed motif on them. They were unusual. And completely inappropriate for the weather,” Janice clarified. 

I thanked her and went to compare notes with Ito.

“So we’re looking for a tall skinny white guy, blonde and blue. According to the height guide at the door, about six foot one. Blue jeans, bright orange construction t-shirt, with the reflective ‘x’ on the front. Demin jacket,” said Ito, reading his notes.

“Wearing tie-dyed Crocs,” I said.

“Really?”

I nodded.

“Let’s go see what’s out there,” I said, pointing to the door. 

We told the manager that we would be back.

I looked around the snow. There was no one walking about, so the snow hadn’t been trampled. We walked around the side of the bank, and there was a five dollar bill laying on the snow. And beside it, a very clear, very unique, tread mark in the snow. Someone had come this way recently, and dropped some money. Ito pulled out two markers and laid one by the money, and one by the footprint, then took pictures of them both.

I called in uniformed officers, to come babysit the beginning of the scene.

Technically, we were waiting for SWAT and the canine squad to arrive, but we had a legit lead, and I felt that we needed to follow the footsteps…

PRESENT DAY

The Crown Attorney Simms, had finished her direct examination of me, and the Defence Attorney, Clarance Tomlin, stood to start his cross examination.

“Detective Waits, what lead you to believe that the footsteps in the snow were my client’s?”

“I didn’t know that they were your client’s. I didn’t even know that your client existed at that point in time. We were just following the clues.”

“Is it possible that my client could have just dropped some money on his way home from the convenience store across the road from the bank?”

“He could have done just that, but there were no footprints in the snow to back that theory up. The only footprints in the snow led from the bank to your client’s door.”

“Were you not expected to wait for both SWAT and canine before approaching a suspect. Why did you approach my client without adequate backup?”

“Detective Ito and I are both highly trained officers. We conferred and agreed that we would attempt to apprehend the suspect before he could dispose of evidence. Time was of the essence.”

“But were you not worried? Allegedly, the bank robber had a gun. Was it necessary to move forward without proper backup. Was it because you wanted to plant evidence before you had any other witnesses?

“No sir. That is not the case.” I took a deep breath before continuing. “We figured that any perpetrator who blinded himself by putting the cotton gusset of the pantyhose over his own eyes was perhaps not the most dangerous of suspects.”

“Your Honour, I move to strike …”

 JANUARY 23, 2002

Ito and I carefully walked beside the footsteps and money trail. It was less than a block. Apparently not only did the bank robber have unique footwear, but he also had a hole in his grocery bag, and had left us a fantastically easy trail to follow in the snow — money and footsteps.

We moved slowly, dropping markers and taking photos every time we encountered a bill in the snow. We marked five dollar bills, ten dollar bills, twenty dollar bills, and fifty dollar bills. Nothing over a fifty. There were a couple of spots where we could see where he had fallen.

No kidding, I thought. Crocs are definitely not snowy weather footwear. 

The trail lead to a second floor exterior door on the back of one of the businesses on Chestnut street. Ito and I knew that the robber had been armed, so we approached the door carefully. 

We each stood to either side of the door, Ito to the left, me to the right. I knocked.

We could hear movement in the apartment, and footsteps heading towards the door. 

When the door opened, the first thing I saw were the Crocs. They were indeed tie-dyed, and very retro. The second thing I noticed was he was still wearing said Crocs, and his jeans were wet to almost his knees. The third thing I noticed was the bright orange construction tee-shirt underneath a blue jean jacket.

“Yeah? Wadda ya want?”

I looked at him. His hands were empty, except for a pair of pantyhose in his left hand.

“Well, sir, I am Detective Terry Waits and this is my partner Carlos Ito, and we need you put your hands up.”

He sighed, dropped the pantyhose, and put his hands up. I hooked him up, and Ito read him his rights.

He identified himself as Chuck Wellington, twenty-four. Initially he denied knowing anything about the bank robbery, but once we entered the home, we found a replica handgun, the empty package from the pantyhose, and bag of money, with a hole in the bottom.

PRESENT DAY

“Officer Waits,” continued Tomlin, “How can you be certain that my client was the perpetrator that you sought?”

I looked at him for a long second.

You’re kidding, right? I thought. 

Instead I said, “Well sir, he was wearing the clothes that the teller, Mrs. Best and the customer, Mr. Mitchell described, including the tie-dyed motif Crocs. He was holding a pair of pantyhose, forensics later identified as only having his DNA on them. He had a bag of money that he could not explain. And it had a hole in the bottom.”

“Is it not possible, Detective Waits, that my client just found the bag of money and brought it home, and was getting ready to call the police?”

Another long stare from me.

“No, sir, not unless he also found the clothes, the Crocs, the replica gun, the —“

“Move to strike, your Honour. The witness is expounding on the question …”

JANUARY 23, 2002

“So, Chuck,” I started. We were in his not-too-tidy living room. Ito was busy photographing the evidence in situ. Chuck was sitting on his couch, arms handcuffed behind his back.

“Where were you this morning at 9:35?” I asked.

“At home in bed.”

“Really? Because I have a bank full of people who saw you in the bank.”

“There weren’t that many people in the bank. There was only one other guy … oh. Never mind. I was home in bed.”

“Were you here in bed, alone?” I asked.

“What do you mean by that?” he asked, indignant.

“Well, I’m just wondering why you have these pantyhose,” I said, pointing to the bagged and tagged evidence.

“Those are … those are … those are my mom’s.”

“Chuck, if we ask your mom, is she going to back up your story?”

Chuck looked miserable.

“No. They’re mine.”

“And do you have any kids?”

“No.”

“What about the replica hand gun?”

“It’s mine.” He paused. “If I tell you everything, and I still gonna be in trouble?”

“Yes, Chuck, you are going to be in trouble. A lot of trouble.”

Chuck sighed, and hung his head.

“I did it. Please don’t tell my mom.”

PRESENT DAY

“Is is not true, Detective Waits, that you brow-beat a confession out of my client? That you threatened to tell his family members that he was accused of this heinous crime in an attempt to intimidate him?”

“No sir. The defendant admitted to committing the bank robber of his own volition. There was no coercion.”

“Did you not promise him leniency if he admitted to the crime?”

“No sir, I did not. I video taped Mr. Wellington’s initial statement, with his permission. And you have seen those recordings.”

“I move to strike, you Honour, the witness …”

JANUARY 23, 2002

“Okay, Chuck. So did you rob the bank today?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

Still looking at the floor, he mumbled something that I couldn’t hear. 

“I’m sorry, Chuck, I didn’t hear what you just said, can you repeat it for me, please?”

“I needed the money. My mom cut me off. And I was hungry and I wanted a pizza.”

“So, you robbed a bank?”

“Yeah. It seemed like a good idea at the time …”

PRESENT DAY

“Has the jury reached a decision?”

We have your honour,” 

The Court Clerk retrieved a folded piece of paper from the Jury Foreperson, and handed it to the Judge, who read it and handed it back to the Court Clerk, who handed it back to the Jury Foreperson.

“What say you in the case of the Crown versus Charles Wellington?" asked the judge.

“We the jury find the defendant, Charles Wellington, guilty of armed robbery.”

And immense idiocy I thought.