Sunday, September 22, 2019

Chapter 7 - Silence and the Model Employee

Tannehill met the rigorous requirements for employment as expressed by the Capital City Police Department - he was Irish and he was silent.  Though his high level of education - he'd graduated from high school two years prior and had apprenticed briefly in law and architecture - set him apart as a risky candidate, CCPD department heads had invested in the idea of a new Model Community Officer prototype that didn't rely solely on brawn for policework duties and believed Tannehill could fit that mold.

After his intensive two-week CCPD training period, Tannehill's first opportunity to display the new MCO methods occurred when he joined his fellow officers to break up a large bar fight that threatened to spill over into the quiet areas of downtown.  Using these new modern methods, he was able to reason with and subdue rowdy bar patrons by knocking out four teeth from four separate individuals and splitting a fifth's forehead so wide the patron's skull gleamed white.

When this particular patron consistently fretted immediately after the engagement how he was mere seconds from death due to the blood loss, Tannehill calmly took him aside and explained that forehead wounds could easily be repaired with a cauterized needle and thread and tended to look much worse than they actually were.  Tannehill also mentioned that there may be some residual scarring if the operation was carried out by a non-medical professional.  The patron, who's nose was broken in two places and had a few missing teeth of his own (not due to Tannehill's modern policing) shrugged off the cosmetic concern but thanked Tannehill for the advice.  Thus was born Tannehill's first fruitful venture into community policing as both a newly minted officer - and newly minted citizen - of Capital City.  From the standpoint of his employers, their investment in him looked as though it would pay strong dividends.

What Tannehill didn't relay to his employers prior during the interview process is that he'd had every intention of matriculating into one of the university engineering programs in downstate Illinois after high school.  However, an ill-timed fire interceded and destroyed his family home just prior to his expected enrollment.  Rather than leave his family without living arrangements, he used his meager savings to rebuild the family estate.  Given the opportunity to continue working in a city with the perpetual stink of offal and recoup his savings or start afresh, he chose the latter.  He bid the beef of Chicago and the cows of Urbana farewell and moved west for new scenery.  Upon arriving in Capital City he didn't feel the need to the police department as part of an ethnic enclave or as a noble calling.  He just needed a job.

After joining the force and completing his formal training for the CCPD, Tannehill spent his off-hours visiting libraries to further augment the courses thrown at him during his time at the police academy.  Luckily, Capital City had grown large enough to be considered the preeminent metropolis of the West and, as such, was now center to several highly regarded academic institutions.

Though the university libraries often barred non-students from entry, a uniformed CCPD officer accessing a library could usually flout protocol with little resistance from the student or administrative staff.  For the same reason, Tannehill was able to borrow books from the library without a student account, always being careful to return his borrowed volumes at the agreed-upon date. 

And, though the libraries did provide information on legal codes throughout the city and state, much of the language within the formal literature proved to be overwhelming even for someone in possession of natural curiosity.  Instead, he leveraged his ties with district and defense attorneys alike to compose a more practical view of the law.

For further target practice, he'd find farms south of the city to hone his craft with both revolver and rifle, befriending the farmers whose lands he used by assisting with manual labor and odd jobs.

He even learned some rudimentary Polish and Gaelic.

Though he enjoyed indulging his intellectual curiosities, he knew that his peers and employers would look on someone like him with suspicion and he had enough insight into his place and era to know that Lady Justice occasionally peeked out from under her blindfold.  Bribes were the order of the day, even for beat cops.  He knew enough to stay away from "can't miss" opportunities with high-level figureheads in case his "can't miss" opportunity involved an introduction to a very large, deep body of water in the area should rough edges need to be hewn. 

The bribes he did receive would either go to an orphanage, the bank, or a steak dinner, depending on his mood.  When called on for the department's traditional enforcement duties, he didn't shy away from his use of a truncheon but made sure his application of its usage was judicious. 

Above all, though they may have disqualified him from the force had they learned about his academic ambitions, his employers' trust in his silence was rewarded.  When he rode along for brothel raids, while his fellow officers tested the viability of the business before arresting prostitutes and johns, Tannehill stood silently in the parlor room while his co-workers accompanied new-found friends upstairs.  Afterward, when asked, he'd be hard-pressed to remember what other officers were along for the raid, much less who'd done something inadvisable.

When fellow officers fortuitously found a four-inch blade on the dying person of a violent criminal representative of the city's minority population, Tannehill would be far enough away from the scuffle scouting for other evidence.

As a result of his detached demeanor coupled with his silence, he reached an unsaid agreement with the other officers in the department - "I won't partake in your shenanigans, but I won't rat you out either.  I won't get greedy and demand my cut, nor will I be too righteous and demand real justice for yourself or others.  Therefore, there's no reason to shoot me in the back and decorate me after the fact as a fallen hero of the department." 

It was this agreement that allowed Tannehill to build a solid, if unspectacular career, in his time at the CCPD.

[Author's Note: It looks like I'm back on track with my publishing schedule.  Today's edition is 1031 words for a total so far of 7228.]

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