BOOKS

THE  BADGE

Stories and Tales From Both Sides of the Law

This is a unique collection of historically and technically correct short stories based on life experiences as a P.I. and cop in small town/suburban America. Some are fiction, a few 1st person, others journal style and a select number are from the law-breaker's view. The work is void of graphic sex, language or drug use. It's a fun read though some of the stories are a little hairy (Excerpts below).

SELECTED REVIEWS:

“I have been licensed as a private investigator for 13 years in Ohio, Kentucky & Indiana and have found Chuck Klein's writing to be honest, informative and entertaining.”
Michael P Rolfes, CEO & Chief Investigator
OFFICIAL INVESTIGATIONS & SECURITY SERVICES, INC.
Cincinnati, Ohio

“I deal with small town LEOs on a regular basis. Klein has captured the essence of what rural policing and investigating is all about."
Doug Sinkking, Chief Investigator
Brown County, Ohio Prosecutor's Office
Georgetown, Ohio

"Finally, great cop stories set in small town America.  I'm so tired of reading about NYPD, LAPD, etc.  This is the way is really was for so many LEO's in suburban and rural America.  Written by a one who has walked the walk."
Tom McDaniel, Chief of Police (ret.)
Harrison, Ohio

"The Badge, Stories and Tales from both Sides of the Law, by Chuck Klein, is a well written, entertaining and factual portrayal of life for both the cops and the bad guys in small town and suburban America.  It's a great read and I highly recommend this book to anyone interested in true tales from both sides of the law."
Cynthia Brown, Publisher & Editor
American Police Beat Magazine
Author of Brave Hearts: Extraordinary Stories of Pride, Pain and Courage.

"Chuck Klein is at it again. Cincinnati’s own ex-cop, retired private investigator, novelist, story teller and Second Amendment advocate , has a new collection of stories and essays which treat the author’s many interests. These include old fashioned beat cop stories and hot- rodding tales evocative of James Dean or American Graffitti.. . . Klein is at his best in his autobiographical stories about investigations and arrests during his time in the 1970s with the Woodlawn and Terrace Park departments. The stories entertainingly illustrate that daily police routine can suddenly escalate into critical situations in which the officer is in great danger... During Klein’s brief stint with Woodlawn, the entire police department threatened him to go along with an elaborate theft ring, a ring which included Woodlawn’s Chief of Police. Klein pretended to go along and reported the ring to Amberley Police Captain Bill Krueger. Krueger then arranged for Klein to cooperate with the FBI. In other autobiographical stories, Klein has a life and death struggle with an armed felon who has tried to rob the Woodlawn Food Market, and . . . ."
Morris Berg,
Contributing Columnist
American Israelite 
 

SAMPLE TEXT:

. . . the seasoned dispatcher continued a monotone monologue with run-together words and sentences that only cops can decipher. “Attention all cars all departments unit 4-John-11 requesting a 10-78 last twenty is farm-to-market four-three-two four miles west of state route eight-twenty-one involves Ford sedan blue in color bearing Texas Tom-Adam-Sam-nine-nine-eight 4-John-11.”

. . . Having been a police officer and a private investigator I've been in tight spots before, but standing naked on my own property, this guy really got my attention! With my eyes riveted on the thing leveled at me while struggling to reach the door, I yelled , “WHO ARE YOU . . . GET OUT OF HERE.” He didn't say anything and as best I could see his expressionless blank stare didn't change.

. . . Stumbling, crashing, running into the house, slamming the screen door closed behind me, I saw out of the corner of my eye, that the trespasser was now advancing toward my end of the deck. The thoughts that went through my mind as I raced to the bureau where I kept a gun, ran from . . ."This must be a friend playing a joke on me and he's going to burst out laughing any second," to . . ."this could only be a sleaze bag from some past arrest or investigation who had sworn to get me."

. . . Instinctively I grabbed at the now exposed handgun. He shoved me with is left arm then everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. I could see my hand going for the perp's gun as the barrel slowly rotated toward me. I was trying to balance myself for the thrust of the perp's free elbow all the while my right hand raced to get at my service revolver. At the same time I was aware that my mind was screaming, why is it taking so long? My right hand clawed at the security strap on the Jordan holster. I seized the custom gripped three-fifty-seven magnum, again wondering why it was taking such an inordinate amount of time to clear leather. I heard my voice hollering, “LET GO! LET GO! LET GO!”

. . . Gun belts tossed in the back seat of John’s Mustang, but still wearing our uniforms, we settled into a mid-row section and began passing the bottle. Not more than a few swigs into the wine and before the credits had rolled, the guy in the two-door hardtop parked next to us climbed out of his car and stood between the vehicles. John and I looked at each other in total disbelief – this dude was using the speaker pole for a urinal. Ah, man!

... Arresting felons always follows two procedures: gun pointed at the perp and the verbal command not to move. If there is any movement by the subject under these conditions a shot – or two – or three – is almost always necessary. Perps know this rule of the streets, for sure cops know it, citizens licensed to carry concealed are taught it, and the courts have recognized the ultimate need to protect lives. At the instant of the draw-down it’s literally a very tense do-or-die moment. Even though this rule of law is so well known, shots are sometimes necessary – usually because the loser is so high on drugs he doesn’t comprehend the command or he’s just feeling lucky (a la Clint Eastwood’s line from the movie, Dirty Harry). Sunday morning, off-duty and dressed in a sport coat and jeans, I waited in the department’s unmarked car in LSC’s parking lot. The day shift officer, my back-up, surreptitiously cruised nearby. Right on time the Kentucky rental car pulled in. I opened the door for the perp, but before he could exit, I asked, “Are you Wendell Cross?” Upon his affirmation, I pulled my Smith & Wesson .38 Chief’s Special, shoved it in his neck and said those magic words every cop loves to shout, “FREEZE. POLICE OFFICER. DON’T MOVE. YOU’RE UNDER ARREST.” The second to last thing a morally responsible, prudent person wants to do is kill another human being regardless of how reprehensible, villainous or dangerous that person might be. The last thing this morally responsible, prudent person wants to do is be killed by that reprehensible, villainous and dangerous person.” The back-up arrived as this was going down and we had him in the county jail forthwith.
 

SUGGESTION:  Please consider purchasing a book (in addition to the one for yourself) to donate to you local police agency. I'm sure they'll appreciate it.