We feel obligated to correct several misconceptions that have been perpetuated by Hollywood when it comes to law-enforcement work. Kristyn recently watched an episode of the television show CSI: Miami. (Even cops get a kick out of being entertained once in a while.) This particular episode centered around a vigilante murdering pedophiles who used the Internet to solicit sex from minors. As much as we enjoy viewing the fantasy facilities and resources these popular crime scene investigators have at their disposal, we feel the need to set the record straight on the reality of police work and what real-work conditions are like:

•  First of all, police officers do not get Humvees assigned to them as unmarked police cars. Call her jealous, but Kristyn was saddled with an older Ford Taurus that was the color of a blue port-a-potty. The only commonality is that it is just as impossible to do any type of undercover surveillance in a platinum-colored Humvee as in a port-a-potty blue Taurus. That is where the similarities end.

•  We have seen our share of dead bodies, and none of them was nicely laid out in the presidential suite of the Bellagio, in a stretch Lincoln limousine, or on the lanai of a multimillion-dollar mansion, complete with wave pool and sauna. Our dead bodies have always been several days old, stinky and bloated, leaking fluids, in an old trailer that is hotter than hell, stacked with pizza boxes, empty cans, and reeking of stale cigarette smoke and beer.

•  No one, and we mean no one, wears all-white designer outfits with matching stiletto pumps to do police work unless she is working undercover as a hooker in a vice sting. Kristyn once made the mistake of wearing a cute little pair of black flats to work on a day she wound up in an old mobile home with a body she initially missed because of the several inches of raw sewage, rotting carpet, and piles of trash and cigarette butts that reached the ceiling. The resident had also been defecating in the bathtub, and therefore not bathing. Kristyn borrowed a pair of fireman’s boots and threw out her entire ensemble upon returning home from work that day. She has never been to a glamorous crime scene.

•  DNA results are not immediately accessible to the investigator. We recently received results back on a known suspect from the state lab on a case that is now almost 2 years old. We also do not have immediate access to fingerprint analysis or ballistics—the wait time is often more than a year. If we need a license photo, we have to send a letter to our state DMV, and then wait for the mail to deliver a printed copy because license photos in our state cannot be sent via email.

•  In this particular CSI: Miami episode, a suspect’s IP address was immediately traced back to an Internet service provider (ISP), to the mailing address, and then to the suspect himself. It took approximately 10 seconds. We can assure you that in the real world of law enforcement, we have to manually locate the ISP, send them a preservation order to hold the information, write up a report and letter requesting an administrative subpoena, testify in front of a grand jury, and then wait a few weeks for the Internet service provider to mail or fax the information we are seeking. This often holds up a case for weeks.

•  You won’t see all that fancy equipment in most police departments. Take, for example, the computer monitor on CSI: Miami that looks like it is suspended in mid-air. The monitor is the size of a big-screen plasma TV—all touch screen-controlled so the users don’t need a mouse to manipulate anything. They just move their hands around to go from view to view. The graphics are wild and colorful. We know that this type of technology actually exists, but this—along with the funky, high-style furniture, glass interview rooms, and wall-to-ceiling windows—makes us wonder what kind of budget the producers think the average police department has. Some of our computer monitors are still the old 15-inch monitors. Cubicles are gray and piled with papers, and our interview room is adjacent to the lunch room and has no air circulation. It is not uncommon to conduct a suspect interview with loud laughter and the smell of onions wafting from the room next door.

•  On CSI: Miami, you never see the investigators write reports, fill out evidence tags, and photocopy their case files for court. We spend a ridiculous amount of time writing and reviewing reports, and if the case has a lot of evidence, filling out evidence tags and photo logs. This can be tedious and time consuming, and, we suppose, not very exciting to show to the primetime television audiences.

This is law enforcement’s reality. Sometimes the most difficult task on a given day is trying to explain to 24 grand jurors why we can’t solve crime like they do on television because of all the legal hurdles we’d face. (Come to think of it, we don’t ever remember watching an episode where the investigators had to testify in front of the grand jury.) Search warrants, subpoenas, evidence testing, and access to confidential information require resources, manpower, and lots of time, which in turn slows down case investigation. The CSI series is a nice diversion from what is the reality in law enforcement in most jurisdictions, particularly in light of the fact that small- to mid-sized agencies are the norm in most states. Often people forget that crimes occur in smaller communities too.

We have a term for this phenomenon that biases juries and the public in general: “the CSI effect”. At a recent law-enforcement convention, several lecturers addressed how law enforcement must take steps to combat “the CSI effect”. They detailed how it has had an impact on the investigation and prosecution of cases, and even the trial of cases.

We can only hope that the stories we put forth will help you understand that the best way to prevent becoming a victim of crime is through awareness—of your personal space and your cyberspace. This is not a television show, it is reality.