A strange one...

Wednesday night I was dispatched to a special assignment/other division. I read the call slip and the homicide division wanted me to return to a scene that an officer had left less than an hour ago. It seems that the officer was dispatched to that scene, arrived, heard the story, decided it was a hoax, and cleared the call unfounded without writing a report. There are many reasons why an officer would not make a report. In fact, the majority of calls are cleared without a report being written. After the officer left the scene, the caller contacted the homicide division and relayed his story to the desk officer. That officer then relayed the story to his lieutenant. In this case, a report should have been made according to the homicide lieutenant, so I was sent to do just that.

 Here is the story. On Wednesday at 9:30 PM, the phone rang at the Ibiza Food and Wine Bar which is located on Louisiana in Midtown. One of the owners, Larry, answered the phone.

 Larry: "Hello, Ibiza Food and Wine Bar."
caller: "Hello, is my daddy there?"
Larry: "Pardon me?"
caller: "My daddy said to call this number if he is not back in 45 minutes."
Larry: "Who is your father?"
caller: "My daddy's name is David Green."
Larry: "Who am I speaking with?"
caller: "My name is Lori Green. I am six years old. I am locked inside the car and I can not get out of my car seat. Daddy left me a cell phone and the card for your restaurant. He said to call if he was not back in 45 minutes."
Larry: "What does your daddy look like?"
caller: "He was wearing a blue shirt and he has brown hair."
Larry: "Hang on for a minute, I will look around the restaurant for him."

 Larry put the call on hold and briefly looked around the restaurant. There were not many people inside at the time. At this point, Larry is thinking this is some type of hoax. He gets the other owner, George, and they discuss the phone call. In the mean time, Mary, the 21 year old hostess and nanny for George's children, picks up the phone and starts talking to the little girl. Mary asks Lori a series of questions to try and determine where she might be. What kind of car are you in? What color is the car? Are there others cars around you? Do you see any buildings nearby? What do they look like? Are there any cars next to you? Among others. After Mary gets some information, she relays it to Larry and George. They go out into the parking lot and surrounding area looking for little Lori. A little while later, Lori asks Mary to tell her a story. Mary asks her what story would you like to hear? Lori says "I do not care, but I am getting scared and I think a story would help." So Mary tells her the story of Cinderella.

 After the story Lori says that there is now a man sitting on the curb next to the car.

 Mary: "What does he look like?"
Lori: "He is a dark man."
Mary: "What is he doing?"
Lori: "Just sitting there. Well, now he is standing up and coming toward the car."
Mary hears what sounds like loud thumping through the phone.
Lori says frantically, "He is beating on the glass with his hands."
Mary: "Stay calm, is he doing anything else?"
Lori: "He just pulled out a long silver piece of metal from his pants and is sticking it in the door. Should I open the door?"
Mary shouts "NO!"
Lori: "The lock is moving, what do I do?"
Mary: "Put your hand on the lock to keep it from unlocking."
Lori: "Ok, but now he is moving around to the other side of the car. I can not reach that lock."
Mary: "Do not open the door. Do you see anyone else around?"
Lori: "No, I do not see anyone."

 Then Mary heard Lori scream and shout "He is in the car, he is in the car." Mary then heard what she described as a growling sound through the phone and then the phone went dead. The first officer arrived shortly thereafter. That officer searched the area and after finding no sign of the car or Lori, cleared the call and went back to the station. Needless to say, Larry, George, and Mary wanted a little bit more done. When I arrived, they were all visibly shaken by the ordeal. I listened to their story and we talked about possible scenarios. Hoax? Drug deal gone bad? Kidnapping? What if? Their imaginations were running wild. So, I did what I do. I talked them off the ledge, gave them a case number, and wrote the report.

 Chances are, I will never find out if this was a hoax or a real incident. It will be investigated by homicide, and with a minimal amount of effort, I could follow the investigation. But the truth is, odds are I will not even think about this call again. Often times, I am asked by friends to tell a police story. It generally takes me awhile to come up with one. Very few of them stick with me for very long. And that is probably a good thing.

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