The Case of the Elusive Cat Burglar
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Our neighbor Ken Fischer tells stories arising from his service in the Lakewood Police Department, casting light into the shadows of the past. We’ve read of brawling confrontations along old West Colfax, touching remembrances of early luminaries who made Lakewood great, and stories of lesser-known heroes and miscreants of all kinds. This story is a retrospective on a challenge he had early in his career, doing detective-level work as a fairly new police agent with the LPD. Part 1 of 2 parts.
By Ken Fischer
It was 1975. I was a year and a half into Lakewood PD and many things were changing rapidly. We were having a great deal of fun and work was really enjoyable. I had 7 years as a police officer.
Once you attain 5 years’ experience, you are said to have arrived and a rookie no longer. The “Patton” soldiers I broke in with would agree with that estimation and shared a lot of their lessons with me, accelerating my street education.
Despite the hard economic times, our grant gurus worked some magic (again) and a new federally funded ten-man unit was going to be turned loose in a high crime area of the city for up to five years. The Boss was Lt. Beckham (“Fontana Fats” but that’s another story), who was a great guy to work for.
Ten Agents would be selected, trained and encouraged to catch bad guys. Only one had prior investigative experience. We were all fresh and pretty young to be “detectives”, but that’s how the boss wanted it. We went off site for a week of intensive investigatory training culminated by our “mission” statement by the big boss, Director Brooks. Director Brooks was the gold standard for detectives. He worked top robbery homicide cases at LAPD including the landmark “Onion Field.” The book was a mainstay read of a police homicide done by prolific and accurate ex detective Joseph Wambaugh. He was a friend of Mr. Brooks as was Jack Webb and the producers of “Police Story.”
His message was clear: I set you up and I can take you back down if I see any “sandbagging or hanky-panky.” Old time detectives were known to serve and protect themselves. His emphasis was that it should not occur with us, the “New Centurions.”
Burglary was seen as the redheaded stepchild of the investigative family. Low clearance rates, minimal property recovery, secondary prosecutorial emphasis and the suspects were generally cowardly thieves, who would turn on each other with the speed of a vulture on carrion.
The training was quite good as we had impressive experts on board. Along with Chief Brooks was Doug Monsoor, master criminalist (CSI) and a godfather of criminalistics. He was one of the three best in the country. Wise defense attorneys did not question or challenge him on the stand. Doug would often find it practical and humorous during testimony to correct a defense attorney for his presentation of a question – and he was always right. Experienced defense attorneys counseled fresher counsel to accept Doug without question or qualification.
We became adequate CSIs, doing our own processing on scenes which entailed prints, photos and evidence gathering. The detective who responded to the initial report worked it to culmination and on-scene duties were often shared by up to three detectives. Impressive to a citizen.
We went operational September 1975. For a time we acted like a T-ball team, all running to get the ball and falling over each other to help out. I opted to work swing shift where I felt a lot of the action occurred. Usually it meant following leads developed by the day shift guys and led us all over the metro area. Still a lot of fun with a surveillance or buy/bust mixed in. We procured two working “cool” cars out of impound for surveillance. One was a step away from the crusher and the other was a 65 Shelby Mustang that stood out like Madonna in a prison yard. The Shelby we used and beat up for two years turned out to be stolen, but it worked.
The tale:
One evening We were called to a ground floor apartment of a young woman, a teacher, who had come home late afternoon and began her bedtime routine. Something seemed odd as she moved around her unit. Finally she focused on it. The couch had been moved several inches away from the wall. She approached and looked behind it and to her horror, she observed a body tucked in partially under the back of the couch. She screamed, ran out but was able to see the intruder briefly as he ran into the dark.
Peculiar. There were several things amiss with this call, Burglars do not usually stay on scene. They disrupt, break and frantically search for money, guns, drugs jewelry or small items of value. Nothing was disturbed and the suspect had even closed the bedroom window he made entry through. In addition, he was described as a juvenile Asian, more specifically “possibly Cambodian.” He said nothing.
The victim was solid on this, having studied Asian culture.
Strange. Not only did we have few if any Asian residents at that time but it’s a fact that the culture was not consistent with their youth committing burglary.
The perimeter was set but came up empty. He had evaporated. No similar case, no similar Asian suspect description in nearby metro agencies, nothing at all on a teenage solo burglar. You begin to apply logic to the case. Did the lad get lost, did he mistake the unit for another and panic when she came home? No. She found change missing from a jar in the kitchen.
A week later. Six blocks away. Ground floor apartment in the middle of the complex. Boyfriend returns from work at 2 A.M. He confronts a young Asian male holding a purse in the kitchen. The subject is calm and asks what the boyfriend wants. The boyfriend is somewhat intoxicated and feels he may have entered the wrong unit. He exits, goes to the parking lot. The woman resident hears conversation and enters the kitchen, sees the Asian boy with her purse. “What are you doing?” The Asian male calmly says “there was a guy here looking for you,” then bolts out the door.
In weeks that followed, several more chilling cat burglaries. Smooth. One woman in a studio apartment is semi asleep and watches our suspect using a pen lite then do a silent one-hand pivot into her garden window, walk calmly to her purse, flash the pen light at her then empties her purse. No words spoken. She sits up. He makes two pivots and is out the window. She slowly wakes but is not sure it really happened.
We now have five similar cases in just over a month. No trace, no contact cards, no known Asian families within miles of the occurrences. Schools are negative for anyone matching the description.
I am called to a burglary at 2:30 A.M. first floor apartment, single female with a young child. Suspect made entry through child’s bedroom window and had to move across the bed of the child sleeping.
Suspect empties victim’s purse. Victim is awakened by someone in bed with her, “shaking.” Initially she thought it might be a boyfriend but notes a quirk: jet black short hair. She screams. Suspect exits into darkness. Gone, not a trace.
This is a new level, personal contact instead of pilfering purses. Chilling. Who is this guy?
The story continues next week. Part 2
Ken Fischer holds a Master’s Degree in Education from the University of Iowa and was involved in organizing Iowa’s first Law Enforcement Training Academy. He was on the SWAT Team in the Lakewood Police Department, and retired as a Senior Sergeant. A longtime resident of Southern Gables, he is an experienced woodsman and now runs a firewood business.
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