| Author: | D.J. Martin | ISBN: | 9781493125937 |
| Publisher: | Xlibris US | Publication: | December 27, 2013 |
| Imprint: | Xlibris US | Language: | English |
| Author: | D.J. Martin |
| ISBN: | 9781493125937 |
| Publisher: | Xlibris US |
| Publication: | December 27, 2013 |
| Imprint: | Xlibris US |
| Language: | English |
My name is Matt Diamond, not that that really matters. I spent a little over ten years in the LA Police Department before I woke up one morning and asked myself, What the hell am I doing? This is a dirty business and when I worked in drugs and alcohol before moving over to homicide, it became clear that no one really cared a shit about what I was doing. Now, if they didnt care, why should I give a damn either? The pay was minimum wage, there was little time to myself, and sleep came less and less every day. The day I turned in my badge was much more exciting than when I put it on that first day. When we threw our hats in the air at the Academy, I felt like I could make a difference. Wrong again! When you join the police department you have the feeling you can make a difference, but the day you resign you know you didnt make a dent in this sorry, no thanks, society. You often wondered whom you were trying to protect and found out it was you. Thats old news. This was a new beginning for me: I received my license as a freelance private detective completely on my own. Nobody to tell me where to go every morning at briefing. No shooting in east LA for me to investigate for the 100th time. If you are ever in that area, it is a real war zone but you dont know who you are supposed to be fighting. Killing each other, the blacks against the Mexicans, the police trying to bring order where no one really wanted it. Believe me, it is no place for some guy like me who, I felt, was dedicated to preventing such things. You couldnt get a witness to point out a shooter for fear they might be the next victim. Tell me one person who really cared what went on in that hell hole, and I will show you a liar. The name on my fleabag so-called office now read Matt Diamond, Private Investigator. Not only was this my office, it was also where I lived. There was a pull-down bed that I never really put back in the wall, a small refrigerator in one corner, a really nice hot plate and a small bath with shower and toilet. But it was mine, and the rent was paid for a year due to the vacation money I received when leaving the LAPD.
My name is Matt Diamond, not that that really matters. I spent a little over ten years in the LA Police Department before I woke up one morning and asked myself, What the hell am I doing? This is a dirty business and when I worked in drugs and alcohol before moving over to homicide, it became clear that no one really cared a shit about what I was doing. Now, if they didnt care, why should I give a damn either? The pay was minimum wage, there was little time to myself, and sleep came less and less every day. The day I turned in my badge was much more exciting than when I put it on that first day. When we threw our hats in the air at the Academy, I felt like I could make a difference. Wrong again! When you join the police department you have the feeling you can make a difference, but the day you resign you know you didnt make a dent in this sorry, no thanks, society. You often wondered whom you were trying to protect and found out it was you. Thats old news. This was a new beginning for me: I received my license as a freelance private detective completely on my own. Nobody to tell me where to go every morning at briefing. No shooting in east LA for me to investigate for the 100th time. If you are ever in that area, it is a real war zone but you dont know who you are supposed to be fighting. Killing each other, the blacks against the Mexicans, the police trying to bring order where no one really wanted it. Believe me, it is no place for some guy like me who, I felt, was dedicated to preventing such things. You couldnt get a witness to point out a shooter for fear they might be the next victim. Tell me one person who really cared what went on in that hell hole, and I will show you a liar. The name on my fleabag so-called office now read Matt Diamond, Private Investigator. Not only was this my office, it was also where I lived. There was a pull-down bed that I never really put back in the wall, a small refrigerator in one corner, a really nice hot plate and a small bath with shower and toilet. But it was mine, and the rent was paid for a year due to the vacation money I received when leaving the LAPD.
