“Car crashes,” a tall, thoughtful-looking black male said.
“Correct. For those age fifteen to twenty-five, cars are by far the worst. That is, pretty much everywhere but Philadelphia. Anyone want to venture a guess what it is here?”
The group was silent, then a male voice in the back said, “Murder?”
Payne nodded solemnly. “Unfortunately, yes. Homicides are the top killer for that age group in Philly.”
There was a murmur, then the same voice in the back, his tone now incredulous, said, “But why?”
“That’s a very good question. One I wish we had an answer for-then I wouldn’t have to work so hard.”
That triggered polite laughter.
Then, toward the front, a light-brown-skinned female with short dark hair raised her hand to shoulder level and said: “Thanks to the media, it’s not exactly a secret that you’re known to get into shoot-outs. Weren’t you just cleared in that shoot-out on the casino boardwalk?”
Payne thought that she probably was Puerto Rican.
He smiled.
“You don’t beat around the bush, do you?” he said. “You’re going to make a great cop.”
There were chuckles.
“No offense intended, Sergeant Payne,” she said. “I’m just curious about deadly force-that is, Officer-Involved Shootings-how the process works?”
Payne nodded.
She doesn’t look like she’s trying to corner me, he thought.
But she knows the proper terminology. Better be careful, Matty. .
“Fair question, for which I have a fair answer. Let me say, first of all, Honor, Integrity, Service-that’s our police department’s motto. I believe devoutly in it. I took my oath to protect the city, protect its residents, and uphold the law and the United States Constitution. To do that, you have to embrace honor and integrity and service.”
He saw nodding in the crowd.
“An Officer-Involved Shooting, or OIS,” he went on, “is when a police officer, either on duty or off, discharges his or her firearm, either intentionally or accidentally. Each year, among our seven thousand-plus officers, there’s an average of fifty Officer-Involved Shootings, with about ten of those resulting in the officer killing the bad guy. It’s important to note that every OIS death in the last decade has been found to be righteous.”
“Righteous?” a male, who looked, and sounded, like he was of Polish stock, asked.
Payne remembered him as one of the six whose hands remained up when he asked if anyone had been a crime victim.
“Justifiable,” Payne said. “Proper.”
“Then the bastard had it coming!” the male blurted.
“Kuba!” the olive-skinned female next to him said.
“If you’ll forgive my French, sir,” Kuba added, smiling.
Payne forced back a grin.
“Everyone makes choices, and some are fatal ones,” he said. “Okay, so fifty Officer-Involved Shootings is a very low number considering (a) that there’re every day about ten thousand calls to nine-one-one asking for police assistance and (b) that the bad guys are quick to wave weapons when police arrive on the scene.”
“That’s what happened to me,” Kuba said. “The bastard. . sorry. . the bad guy robbed me at gunpoint when I was waiting for a SEPTA bus in West Philly.”
“You didn’t get hurt?” Payne said.
“No, sir,” Kuba said, shaking his head. He glanced at Andy Radcliffe and added, “Luckily.”
Andy acknowledged that with a nod.
“You were lucky,” Payne said, paused for a moment, then went on: “All right, so after an OIS, the case gets sent to the district attorney’s office to determine that the shooting was within the framework of Pennsylvania state law. There’s also a police department investigation, one separate from the DA’s and conducted by the Use of Force Review Board following the DA’s decision. The Use of Force Review Board is made up of department heavy hitters-the deputy commissioners from Patrol Operations, Office of Professional Responsibility, Organizational Services, and Major Investigations. They determine whether or not department procedures and policies were followed and if there should be disciplinary charges, or maybe training, or even changing department policies.”
“What about CPOC?” a male who looked to be of Asian descent said.
Payne looked at him, nodded, then addressed the group: “Everyone familiar with the Citizens Police Oversight Committee? It’s exactly as its name suggests. Made up of five citizens appointed to represent all citizens, CPOC offers valuable suggestions to the police department, generally through the city council. Its members, who are not sworn officers or prosecutors, are not able to make professional investigations of an OIS, or for that matter any other official activity in the department.”
After a moment, the dark-haired woman raised her hand again.
“So,” she said, “you’re saying that’s ten bad guys killed by an officer each year in Philly? When the overall murder rate averages one a day? I don’t mean any offense by this, either, but it’s remarkable you haven’t shot more than you have, Sergeant Payne.”
Payne looked at her a moment, then noticed everyone’s eyes on him.
Here it comes, Matty ol’ boy-that sounds uncomfortably close to the impossible-to-answer question of: “So, sir, have you stopped beating your wife?”
“Yes! I mean, no! I mean. .”
He avoided answering by digging into his coat pocket. He produced some folded sheets of paper, flipped to the second one, and handed it to Andy Radcliffe.
“This is the most recent Philadelphia Murder/Shooting Analysis,” Payne announced. “Andy, how about you read the intro, and I’ll then get into the numbers.”
Andy looked at the sheet, then cleared his throat, and began: “‘The FBI Uniform Crime Reporting Program establishes all guidelines and procedures for the submission of crime data to the State Police UCR. Murders are counted at the time Homicide investigators determine that, after investigation, there in fact has been an intentional killing of a human being by another. Clearances of murders occur when at least one person suspected of committing the murder is taken into police custody for prosecution. Clearance rates are determined by taking the total number of murder clearances for the year and dividing that number into the number of murders counted for that same period. Clearance rates are currently averaging fifty percent.’”
He looked up at Payne, who then looked at the group.
“Any questions about that?” Payne said.
He saw heads shaking; there were no verbal responses.
“Okay, let’s talk about who’s involved in these homicides,” he then said. “Of those murdered, nearly ninety percent are male, sixty percent of that aged eighteen to thirty-four, seventy-five percent if you look at eighteen to forty-four. And of all those killed, seventy-five percent are African-American.
“The department’s Twenty-second District-North Philly, Broad Street to the Schuylkill River, headquartered at Seventeenth and Montgomery-gets the dubious honor of handling the most murders citywide, one in ten. But the Twenty-fourth and — fifth and the Twelfth and Thirty-fifth and — ninth are right behind it.”
Andy Radcliff said, “That’s pretty much anywhere but Center City.”
“That’s correct. But Center City certainly isn’t immune. Now, seventy-five-point-eight percent of homicides happen outside. No day is really any better or worse than another, although Saturday, Sunday, and Monday nights edge highest.”
“Why not Friday?” a voice called out.
Payne shrugged.
“There’s really not a lot of difference. Friday rates eleven percent versus sixteen percent for each Saturday, Sunday, Monday. A third of those murders clock in-or clock out, as the case may be-between twenty-hundred and twenty-four-hundred hours. About one in four are murdered after that, twenty-four-hundred to oh-four-hundred.”
“Midnight, the witching hour,” Andy Radcliffe said. “Small wonder the Homicide guys on the Last Out shift are the busiest.”