Editor’s Note: In PoliceOne “First Person” essays, our Members and Columnists candidly share their own unique view of the world. This is a platform from which individual officers can share their own personal insights on issues confronting cops today, as well as opinions, observations, and advice on living life behind the thin blue line. This week’s essay comes from PoliceOne Member Bob Durkis, a retired Sheriff from Hendry County, Florida. Do you want to share your own perspective with other P1 Members? Send us an e-mail with your story.
By Sheriff Bob Durkis (ret.)
Hendry County, Florida
My law enforcement career began in 1961 upon graduating from the Miami-Dade Police Academy. I served three years as a road patrol officer and then motorcycle officer for five years. In 1969 I transferred to the Organized Crime Bureau in a newly formed gambling unit. There was little emphasis placed on fighting this type of crime until this OCB unit was expanded. My unit was to be involved in pursuing bookmakers, poker gaming establishments, and busting bolita houses.
Bolita was — and probably still is — one of the most popular numbers betting vices in the Cuban-American and African-American communities. Numbers are drawn on a daily basis out of a bag full of numbered ping pong balls, very similar to today’s Lotto games that are legitimate in several states. My assignments were executed in whatever clothing or disguise techniques deemed necessary to pull off the investigation. Two of my most productive undercover operations were the takedown of an established liquor lounge involved in big time gambling that had connections to organized crime. This night club investigation amounted to an owner who ran bookmaking on all major sporting events and distributed football parlay cards. To work my way into his trust, I borrowed a Ford car dealership mechanic’s uniform from my neighbor and began patronizing the bar every evening. I rubbed grease from under the hood of my rented unmarked car on my arms and uniform to look authentic.
After about three weeks, I was able to gain their trust and started playing the football parlay cards. I told the owner that my coworkers at the car dealership would love to play the cards. Once the club owner felt comfortable with me, he actually made me a runner for his operation. I was given the same deal as his other card runners.
I was offered the standard pay of 10 percent of everything I collected. After getting cards every week and having them all filled out and returned, I gained more evidence by placing bets on horses and ball games. After three months of steady betting, I secured an arrest warrant and a search warrant for the premises. The subsequent search turned up all types of betting receipts and cash. The proprietor ended up with a jail sentence and lost his liquor license.
This case was of interest to the FBI because this operation connected to existing files on organized crime gangs operating in the Miami area. This particular nightclub had connections to a Boston crime family, so the FBI was very interested in adding a much broader case.
To be successful in any investigations of this type, you had to play the role of the people you were investigating. The parlay cards I was allegedly selling to my car dealership coworkers were played by other OCB officers. None of us were ever able to beat the point spread and collect on any of the cards. We never collected one thin dime, showing how the everyday gambler has little chance of winning.
Another masquerade I pulled off was when I got wind of a bolita operation that employed runners who travelled to blue collar worksites around the Miami area. One site was a hotel restaurant commissary that prepared its own food. I boldly walked into the commissary and disguised myself as a worker.
No one questioned me as I took a white freezer coat off of a hook and put it on. I figured the numbers runner showed up at the employees’ coffee break time. I spent time in the men’s room, waiting for the break. Like clockwork, the numbers seller arrived at break time, and the employees wanting to play the numbers formed a long line.
As the seller walked the line, he wrote down the players’ picks for the nightly drawing and gave them a carbon receipt. I stood in line and bought my numbers. When the seller left, I hung the coat back up and followed him on his rounds to the other business stops. By taking photographs of him at his other daily stops, I was able to show that he was part of a large operation.
I eventually tracked him to the counting house. This was where all the money was turned in by all the runners and where the evening the numbers was actually drawn. They use a bag of numbered ping pong balls. Someone reached in and pulled out three balls. These numbers were the winning combination for that night. Numbers were drawn seven days a week. I secured a warrant for the search of the property that ended in shutting down a large numbers operation that netted thousands of dollars a day in profits. It sent a dozen of these well-established group members to jail.
The IRS took over from here and sought to prosecute for income tax evasion.
Another interesting investigation I conducted was at several horse race tracks in and around Miami. Bookmakers would actually operate at the tracks, saving customers from standing in lines at the ticket windows. They always dressed in a fashion to make them stand out to the track visitors.
One such operator wore a coat with a fur collar in warm weather to be spotted easily in the crowd by his bettors. After placing a few bets with him, I arrested him on the spot. This type of criminal activity kept money from going to the betting windows where the money was taxed by the State.
An open bookmaker case that was previously hard to solve involved a suspect who operated out of an apartment somewhere in Miami. He was alleged to be a big time bookie, and no one had been able to locate his actual place of business. The phone company’s policy was to not divulge to authorities any locations of multiple banks of telephones that was necessary to operate a large bookmaking operation.
To get the records, a subpoena was needed. Phone company employees were never trusted because of their opportunity to make side money by working for bookies and tipping them off if records were subpoenaed. I was assigned the task of trying to make a case after several failed attempts.
One morning, I brought a lawn mower from home and was mowing the grass of an empty home for sale three houses down from where our bookie lived. Heading out to work that morning, he drove by very slowly and gave me the evil eye. I ignored him until he left the area. I radioed his route to three other undercover units. Through parallel street tailing they were successful in following him to his final destination, a rented apartment We rented an empty apartment across from his and started photographing and logging his comings and goings.
We collected receipts from his garbage can when he placed it out at the curb at the end of the day. This was how confident he was that no one was investigating him. While most bookies used water soluble paper, he just tossed his out in the trash. Serving a search warrant after a couple weeks of the stake out, we discovered that his operation alone was netting some $5,000 a day. Most bookies had to pay a percentage to an organized crime family to continue to operate. Florida was supposed to be a neutral state where the crime bosses could come and relax because no one organization had any real operations set up.
This wasn’t entirely true. They were all greedy and had their fingers in many pies. There was a popular boat manufacturer in North Miami Beach who built super fast cigarette racing boats for the drug smugglers who brought dope in from the Bahamas. He also built boats that ran a little faster and sold them to the DEA and Customs.
This wasn’t a wise move because the smugglers eventually figured out what he was doing. One afternoon as he left his shop a sedan pulled alongside of him. He was shot in the head and died instantly. He was playing both ends and making big bucks until he was murdered.
The OCB Vice Squad had an undercover agent staying at a posh hotel on Miami Beach. They were conducting a high priced prostitution investigation. He checked in as a tourist. After a couple of days, he made connections for the weekend and needed a second officer to act as the witness. Miami-Dade dotted their I’s and crossed their T’s to make sound prosecutable cases.
No one was able to run over to the hotel, so they found me by chance and asked if I’d mind assisting in the arrest. I made it to the room before the prostitute was to arrive. I took my position in the closet. On a predetermined signal and when the cash transaction and scope of her services were finalized, I sprang out of the closet and affected the arrest. This was the first and only time I assisted in this type of case. Undercover work was very exciting.
Each and every group I was able to penetrate and arrest was very gratifying to me.
