PART 1
By Robert James Fischer
***This was published in Tia Belau Newspaper while me and Tito Cabunagan are representing Palau in the 2010 World Chess Olympiad in Khanty-Mansiysk, Russia together with our Australian Team Captain Jamie Kenmure and Swedish Delegate Jan Berglund.
ABOUT 2:00 pm Tuesday afternoon, May
26, 1981, as I was peacefully and lawfully walking towards Lake Street in
Pasadena across from the Kaiser Permanente medical offices, a policeman in a
car suddenly pulled up alongside the curb and said he wanted to talk to me
because I fitted perfectly the description of a man who has just committed a
bank robbery. I politely told him that he had the wrong man and I hadn’t
committed any bank robbery, and that I didn’t know anything about it whatsoever.
The
policeman then proceeded to ask me a number of questions regarding my name,
residence, age, etc. I answered all of these questions politely and truthfully.
He then began to repeat the questions over and over again. I answered them over
and over again. He asked for my identification and I showed it to him. He asked
me how long I’ve lived in the area, and where I was from originally. I told
him. He asked what I did for a living and I told him.
Suddenly
a second police car pulled alongside and I was soon surrounded by at least 3 or
4 policemen. On at least 3 or more separate occasions I was asked where I
lived, and I told them that I didn’t have the exact street address but since it
was only a block or 2 away I would show them where it was. They showed no
interest whatsoever in this reasonable suggestion. The policeman who had just
arrived in the second car began to repeat the same questions that the policeman
in the first car had asked. I told him I’d already answered those questions. I
was asked for my driver’s license and I told them I didn’t drive.
The
policemen became extremely hostile and threatening in their manner. They began
to say among themselves, “He’s probably wanted out of state.” –“You think we
should arrest him?”-“Yeah, I think so, let’s take him down to headquarters,”
etc;
At
one point early in the questioning by the first officer before the second car
had arrived I was told, “This is serious”. This simple statement spilled the
beans on the entire police operation and clearly revealed it to be the filthy
stinking set up it was. If the officer really believed I had just robbed a
bank, the officer would know that I damn well knew it was “serious” and he
wouldn’t make such a stupid statement. As I stated earlier, the officers began
to repeat the same questions over and over again, interspersing comments among
themselves that they’d have to take me to the station. I said, “I don’t know
anything about this bank robbery and I’ve already answered your questions and I
don’t have to give you any further answers to the same questions. “ I said, “I
have the right to remain silent after giving you basic information about
myself.” The officer said, “Well, you’re thinking of New York state. The laws
are different out here.”
The questions and threats
to arrest me continued, I said, “I’m not answering any more questions. If you
want to arrest me, arrest me-that’s it.” The one officer from the second car
who was obviously the leader of the pack said, “Arrest him!”
I
was immediately handcuffed in a brutal fashion, the police pushing my hands
way, way up behind my back and causing me considerable discomfort and pain.
Later I saw that the metal had torn into the flesh of both my wrists. I was put
into a police car but was unable to move in far enough for them to close the
door because there is some kind of a hump in the middle of the back seat. After
several attempts to shut the door by brutally pushing my right leg with his
right leg, the officer finally succeeded in closing the door by pushing my leg in
with the door itself. Later I saw that my right knee had turned black and blue.
At
one point as there were leading me into the car after they had arrested me, I
saw that officer that had first approached me continue the bank robbery
charade. He showed the leader of the pack officer what appeared to be a
photocopy of an artist’s rendition of the supposed bank robbery suspect. I also
saw the picture. With the exception of the fact that we both wear beards, the
picture didn’t look in the least bit like me. The man in the picture wore
glasses, his face was completely different from mine, the hair on his head was
different, etc. etc.
It
was absolutely impossible to mistake me for him. And if after honestly (which
was definitely not the case here) mistaking me for the man in the picture, it
could not possibly take more than a few seconds at most by comparing the
picture with my face to realize the mistake.
But
obviously the bank robbery bit was just a lying transparent pretext for
approaching and arresting me. The officers never had the slightest question in
their minds that I might be the so-called “bank robber”. The officer who showed
him the picture said, “It looks just like him, doesn’t it?” The leader of the
pack officer said, “Naw, that’s not him.” On the way to the police station an
announcement came over the police car radio on the police band. One officer
said, “That’s it—they just caught the bank robber!”
On
the way to the station, I was insulted several times, called an asshole, etc.
At some point (perhaps it was already at the jailhouse) the police said, if I
wasn’t such an asshole they wouldn’t have arrested me. After we got to the
police station and I got out of the car, I said, “Well, you’ve got the bank
robber. What do you want with me now? He said, “We just want to talk to you
inside”. I said, “About what?” Answer-“Let’s just talk inside.” Inside they
began repeating the same questions again. I was seated and still had my hands
handcuffed behind my back. When I refused to give them anymore information I
was physically attacked.
The
leader of the pack officer said, “We want to find out what this is all about!”
Without any provocation of any kind on my part, he grabbed my throat with one
hand and started choking me by the neck, pushing me backward in the chair
(throughout all this “interrogation”, savagery and physical assault, I was
seated and with my hands handcuffed behind my back) and putting his face close
up to mine grimaced and shouted, “Talk!”
As
he was choking me a woman who apparently worked there walked by. She quickly
turned her head to the left to look in the room to see what the commotion was
all about. When she saw that I was being choked by the neck she quickly turned
her head away and continued walking down the hallway. She obviously didn’t want
to see something she shouldn’t see and get involved on my behalf to save my
life—it could cost her job, you know. The crazed officer saw that I refused to
talk or cringe and whine and beg for mercy, he released my throat and jumped
back with a fearful look in his face like he’d just seen a ghost.
I
said, “I don’t believe this—being choked by the neck with my hands handcuffed
behind my back by a policeman at the station to get me to talk. I thought this
was only in the comic books!” A couple of the officers chuckled at the naivete.
The leader of the pack crazed officer snapped, “Book him!” and took off.
Source: Chessmate by Roberto Hernandez
Tia Belau Newspaper
September 20-26, 2010
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