I watch a cop watch Darius watch the cop

One day when I came home from work and looked out the front window, I saw a cop in a squad car in front of Terry’s house, watching Darius Jefferson. Darius was standing in his front yard talking into a cell phone. He moved freely, his back to the cop in the squad car.

Earlier in the month, I had attended a community meeting with an officer of the Minneapolis crack team to try to gain more understanding about how to deal with Darius Jefferson. Unlike the plump, slow-moving, affable police officers who told us stupid jokes, this guy was made of steel. He poised on the balls of his feet, ready to spring in any direction at any moment. He looked like he was fighting a war on drugs.

“Drug dealing used to be in pockets of the city,” he said. “Now it’s spread out. They deliver in very small amounts. If it’s crack, anything less than one-eighth of an ounce is a fifth-degree offense, and if it is a first arrest they do not do jail time because of overcrowding in the jails. We fingerprint and photograph them when they’re arrested and then we let them go. They’re out the door before the report is filed. At least we know who they are.”

He emphasized that it’s difficult to arrest dealers with large amounts. “The only time when they have a large amount is when they come into town for a major delivery and we only have about an hour.” He encouraged us to be active at reporting suspicious activity. Neighborhood watches take away opportunities for crime because criminals don’t like visibility. Criminals depend on indifference.

I asked, “What constitutes harassment?”

He looked at me, wordless for a moment. “Has a crime been committed?” If a crime has been committed, you’re reporting a crime. If you see someone standing outside holding a gun, call 911.”

“But we don’t know if we’re seeing a crime. We see cars stopping, the drivers running into a house for 10 minutes at 3 in the morning. Someone else stops at 3:30. We think it’s drugs, but we don’t know.”

“For that kind of activity, keep a log of the times when cars stop. See if there’s a pattern. Call the crack team. We’ll send someone out to try and make a buy.”

That was what we were doing. But as I watched the cop watch Darius Jefferson, Darius Jefferson turned and saw the squad car. Darius Jefferson’s posture changed from relaxed to defiant. He talked on his phone, he stared at the cop. The squad slowly pulled away from the curb, slowly cruised past Darius, slowly left the neighborhood. Darius watched the cop car leave, still talking on his phone.

Darius Jefferson was not easily intimidated. Why should he be? He had been arrested eight times and had never been in jail. I retreated from my window, drew myself farther into my house where I hoped I’d be safe.