The bedspread coverup caper

Some people seem to attract trouble. Others do things that get them into trouble. Being in law enforcement for a long time, I have witnessed these firsthand numerous times. Truly, we do reap what we sow. Your sins will find you out.

In the early 1970s, I was an officer with the Littleton, Colorado police department. Late one afternoon my partner and I received a radio call to go to a local motel and meet the claimant for information. This was the only details we had as we drove up to the motel and located room 204, which was upstairs.

A knock at the door resulted in a surprising sight. The occupant opened the door and we noted that he was wrapped in a bed spread. “Come in, officers, I want to file a complaint,” he told us as we entered the room and closed the door behind us. I thought to myself, “This is going to be a good one.”

“OK, sir, tell us why you are here in a motel room, wrapped in a bed spread,” my partner said as he opened his notebook to take the report. “Well, this young woman ripped me off,” exclaimed the man as he sat down on a bed. I took this opportunity to survey the room and noted nothing amiss.

“I met this pretty young girl down at the ‘Ya’ll Come In’ bar down the street. We had a few drinks and she agreed to get a motel room so we could, well, you know….,” his voice trailing off in deep thought.

“Ok, sir, so you two rented this room for the purposes of a sexual encounter, is that correct,” repeated my partner? “Well, yes, if you want to put it that way,” he responded.

“Now, Mr. Smith, tell us how you ended up in this position, naked and wrapped in a bed spread,” I enquired. “Well, when we got here, she told me to go take a shower, and she would get herself and the bed ready,” a frown forming on his face. “I got into the shower, and when I walked out that woman had stolen my clothes and left. So, here I am, no clothes, no wallet, no car keys, no nothing,” anger filling his voice. Then the thought must have just hit him, “How am I going to get home?”

“Well, sir, let’s go call your wife to come get you and bring you some more clothes,” my partner offered. “No way! No way! I can’t call my wife,” he protested.

We had taken his information on the woman, limited as it was, and would turn it over to the detectives for investigation. We now needed to terminate this call and get back on patrol.

“I’ll tell you what, Mr. Smith,” I offered, “We will do you a favor and drive you to your house. That’s about all we can do for you.” He pondered the thought of facing his wife, brought home by the police, for a few seconds. “OK, officers, I guess you can drive me home. But I don’t have any clothes to put on.”

I then remembered the two wool blankets that were a part of the equipment in the trunk of every patrol car. “I’ll be right back,” I said as I headed for the door. I grabbed a blanket and took it back to the room. “Here is your new robe, wrap yourself in it and let’s go down to the car,” I told him as he began unwinding the bed spread.

The short ride to his home was very quiet, our “victim” apparently contemplating his arrival there. We drove the patrol car into his driveway. “We’re here. Time for you to face the music,” I said while opening the back door of the car. “We need our blanket back, too.” He froze for a second, “Hey, man, I can’t walk up to my house buck naked,” protesting softly as if trying to whisper.

We escorted Mr. Smith, still wrapped in our blanket, up to his front door and rang the doorbell. After a few seconds, the front door opened to reveal his wife staring at the sight before her—her husband, wrapped up like a burrito, escorted by two policemen. Before she could speak, I grabbed our blanket, quickly unwinding it to reveal a naked man awaiting his sentence.

“Ma’am, he can tell you all about this,” I said as we walked back to the car with our blanket.

“Boy, I would sure like to be a fly on the wall in that house,” my partner mused. “So would I, Bob. So would I,” finding it difficult to respond to him because of the wide grin on my face.

Sometimes, I feel that God truly has a sense of humor.