"Friday night did not go as planned for Frank Giardina."
NYT
Around 11:05 p.m., police officers came to his third-floor apartment in Flushing, Queens, to check on a noise complaint someone called in to 311. The officers knocked on the door and, the police said, Mr. Giardina, 49, came to the door with a marijuana pipe in his hand, a telltale odor emanating. When asked about the smell, he replied, “Oh, that’s weed,” according to the officers.Don't you just hate it, when that happens?
First mistake.
The officers, seeing the pipe, requested his identification to write him a summons, the police said, and Mr. Giardina obliged, inviting the officers into his home while he fetched his ID.
That was a critical second mistake, because, the police said, when the officers entered the apartment, they took a look around and saw something significantly more interesting than a pot pipe: about five pounds of what looked like heroin sitting on the kitchen table.
NYT
13 comments:
Another dumb crinimal.
When you've just invited the police into your apartment with five pounds of heroin just sitting out on the table, that isn't an arrest, that's an intervention.
When your cable company keeps you on hold, you get antsy.
When you get antsy, you buy five pounds of heroin.
When you have five pounds of heroin in your apartment, you need something else to sooth your jangled nerves, so you smoke some weed.
When you smoke some weed you think it is okay to invite the police into your heroin mill.
Do not invite the police into your heroin mill, etc...
Could be a dumb criminal, or it could be that the cops made up the whole story to excuse a warrantless search.
Hard to say which is more likely, these days. :(
He shouldn't have been playing Hellhound On My Trail so loud, singing along, wailing and tap dancing so hard like that. It invites trouble. Next thing you know police all up in your kitchen table stash.
Apparently foot powder doesn't keep the cops out, Chip. Now if they were using hellhounds in K9...
Many criminals are not masterminds.
Sixty, ha! That's the perfect response here.
"Heroin mill"? Is that a thing? Sounds like dialog from a 1940s true-crime pulp.
Maybe it was a stash-house? A proper heroin mill should have a half-dozen naked women and at least two angry young men with guns cutting product and scraping doses into vials.
On the other hand, a stash-house should have had at least two armed men keeping an eye on it. Where does a single addled, strung-out pothead get five pounds of heroin?
OK. I have a friend that I've known for at least 40 years. Two winters ago, his girlfriend put her car in the ditch about a 1/4 mile from the house. Drunk, she did the only thing she could. She fled the scene and walked back to Joel's house. The police followed her tracks in the snow to Joel's house. Answering the door, Joel asked what the problem was. Evidently, he didn't know she was in the house, and said that the police could look in the house. Look they did. All of the way to the attic where they found his marijuana grow operation.
Went to a benefit for him about 4 weeks ago. They keep jacking him around on a court date.
Lessons Learned: Never, never let the police in your house.
I don't care if you are a dumb criminal, a moron, or a mad genius, you never, ever, ever, under any circumstances invite the police into your house. Ever.
So Joel was aware of the grow operation, it being his, and all, and he allowed the police into his abode, expecting what - that they might not notice?
Maybe he has smoked enough, just sayin'...
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