which he served as a sergeant in the department’s Hollywood Division, and may have continued while he was a lieutenant at the Ramparts Division and at the West Los Angeles Division, where he was promoted to captain, last year, following the sudden heart attack death of the previous captain, Robert L. Rogers.
While at Hollywood, Trapp’s name also surfaced in connection with the burglary scandal in which police officers broke rear windows of stores and warehouses on their patrols, tripping burglar alarms, then notified the police dispatcher that they were handling the call. The officers proceeded to loot the premises, using police cruisers to cart away stolen goods, then filed false burglary reports. No charges were filed against Trapp, who was characterized by prosecutors, at that time, as a “cooperative witness.”
With regard to the current case, Trapp was accused of luring female scouts into his office under the guise of offering “career guidance,” plying them with beer, wine, “premixed, canned cocktails,” and marijuana before making sexual advances. Allegations of fondling were made in thirteen cases, with actual intercourse believed to have taken place with at least seven girls, ages 15 to 17. Though the Board of Rights refused to specify what led to the investigation of Trapp, a police source reports that one of the victims experienced emotional problems due to the molestation, was taken for counseling, and revealed to her therapist what had happened. The therapist then informed the Department of Social Services, who contacted the L.A.P.D.
Corroboration of the charges was received from several other victims. However, none of the girls was willing to testify in court, leading the District Attorney’s office to conclude that successful criminal prosecution of Trapp was “unlikely.”
When it was suggested that the settlement constituted a slap on the wrist for an individual who could have been sentenced to a substantial jail term, the board chairman, Cmdr. Walter D. Smith, said, “The Department wants to make it very clear that it will not tolerate sexual misconduct of any sort on the part of any officer, no matter how high-ranking. However, we are also sensitive to the emotional needs of victims and couldn’t force these girls into the psychological trauma of testifying. The board’s action today guarantees that this officer will never again work in law enforcement and will lose every cent he has earned as a police officer. To me that sounds like a pretty good deal.”
Trapp’s attorney, Thatcher Friston, refused to divulge his client’s future plans, other than to say that the disgraced officer is “expected to leave the state, maybe even the country, to work in agriculture. Mr. Trapp’s always been interested in poultry farming. Now perhaps he’ll have a chance to try it.”
I read it once more, tore it out of the paper, and folded it into a paper airplane. When I finally landed the plane in the toilet, I left the motel.
I went home, felt like a new tenant, if not a new man. Was sitting down at my desk ready to plow through accumulated papers when a knock sounded at the front door.
I opened it. Milo came in, wearing his police ID tag on the lapel of a brown suit that reeked of squad-room smoke, glaring at me under black brows, his big face clouded.
“Where the hell have you been?”
“Out.”
“Out where?”
“I don’t want to get into it right now.”
“Get into it anyway.”
I didn’t speak.
He said, “Jesus! You were supposed to be making a few calls- doing the safe stuff, remember? Instead you disappear. Haven’t you learned a goddamned thing!”
“Sorry, Mom.” Then, when I saw the look on his face: “I did do the safe stuff, Milo.
“Right. Very comforting.” He pinched his nose. “ ‘Dr. Delaware will be out for a couple of
“ ‘Where to, honey?’ ” Pinch. “ ‘He didn’t sa-ay.’ ”
I said, “I needed to get away. I’m fine. I was never in danger.”
He swore, punched his palm, tried to use his height to advantage by looming over me. I went back into the library and he followed me there, digging deep in his coat pocket and pulling out a crumpled piece of newsprint.
As he started to unfold it, I said, “Saw it already.”
“I’ll bet you have.” He leaned on the desk. “How, Alex? How the
“Not now,” I said.
“What, all of a sudden it’s let’s-play-hide-and-seek time?”
“I just don’t want to get into it right now.”
“Bye-bye, Cyril,” he said, to the ceiling. “For the first time in my life, wishes come true- it’s like I’ve got this goddamned genie. Problem is, I don’t know what he looks like, who or what to rub.”
“Can’t you just accept good fortune? Kick back and enjoy?”
“I like making my own fortune.”
“Make an exception.”
“Could you?”
“I hope so.”
“Come on, Alex, what the hell’s going on? One minute we’re talking theory; the next, Trapp’s neck-deep in shit and the speedboats are revving.”
“Trapp’s a very small part of it,” I said. “I just don’t want to paint the whole picture right now.”
He stared at me, went into the kitchen and came back with a carton of milk and a stale bagel. Tearing off a chunk of bagel and washing it down, he finally said, “Temporary reprieve, pal. But some day- soon- we’re gonna have ourselves a little sit-down.”
“There’s nothing to sit down about, Milo. It’s like an expert once told me, no evidence, nothing real.”
He held the stare a while longer before his face softened.
“Okay,” he said. “I get it. No neat wrap-up. Case of the law-enforcement blue balls: You were angling for a love affair with Little Miss Justice, found you couldn’t go all the way. But hell, you handled that kind of thing in high school, should be able to handle it now that you’re all grown up.”
“I’ll let you know when I’m all grown up.”
“Screw you, Peter Pan.” Then: “How’re you doing, Alex? Seriously.”
“Good.”
“All things considered.”
I nodded.
“You look,” he said, “as if you’ve been considering lots of things.”
“Just tuning up the system… Milo, I appreciate that you care, appreciate all the things you’ve done for me. Right now I could really use being alone.”
“Yeah, right,” he said.
“See you later.”
He left without another word.
Robin came home the next day, wearing a dress I’d never seen before and the look of a first- grader about to recite in front of the class. I accepted her embrace, then asked her what had brought her back.
“You’re not happy to see me,” she said.
“I am. You took me by surprise.” I carried her suitcase into the living room.
She said, “I was thinking of coming down anyway.” Slipping her arm through mine. “I missed you, really wanted to talk to you last night and called. The operator at the service said you’d gone away without telling anyone where or for how long. She said you’d sounded different, tired and angry-‘cussing like a trucker.’ I
