Law & Order: Tales of the NYPD Property Clerk
Around late February 2005, I was walking to work along the snow-shoveled sidewalks when I noticed something red on the ground. I picked it up and discovered that it was a leather change wallet. Thoughts of Gollum and the One Ring made me cautious of examining the contents, but I unzipped the wallet and found sixty dollars, a penny, a credit card, bank card and a receipt from a nearby grocery store ATM machine. My first thoughts were to pocket the money and toss aside the remaining articles, but I made a saving throw against Evil Temptation and was spared future restless nights of guilt and psychic torment.
So I went to work and called a friend, Maria, and asked her if I should just turn it over to the cops or try to find the owner and hand it back to her. Maria recommened that I do the latter. I decided to do the former, if only because I didn't want to be accused by some unfamiliar crazy woman of robbing her. However, I did Google her name and saw that she only lived a few blocks from me. I also jotted down her phone number.
I kept the wallet the rest of the day. Like Frodo, I felt a terrible burden. Though it was only $60.01, I still needed several saving throws to avoid the fate that befell the Ring Wraiths. I went home, told my wife what I'd found, and called the woman to tell her I would be bringing the wallet to the local precinct. I got hold of her machine, so I left a message. I gave only my first name and did not leave my own number.
I walked to the precinct and waited until one of the desk officers lifted her eyes to acknowledge me. I told her the story and presented the booty. She seemed surprised. "We don't normally find wallets with money in it."
"I can believe that. Hey, here's the address of the woman. I looked up her information on the internet."
She thanked me and handed me a receipt.
Months passed. I often thought about what might have happened with the wallet. I also wondered why I was such a boy scout. In this crazy world of terrorism, Apprentice-show cutthroat competition and religious hypocrisy, were my values sadly based on The Little Rascals and Aruthurian fantasies? Should I not have kept the money and bought grocery with it?
Then last weekend, I recieved a letter from the NYPD Property Clerk informing me that they had something that belonged to me. At first, I thought it was the heroin that I had turned in some 20 months ago from a former cleint of mine. I was somewhat concerned that this might be a trap. But I called the Clerk and the officer explained that it was indeed about the found currency. She also asked if I knew a "Jennifer Tully." I said no. She said that the wallet had belonged to her but efforts to contact her were not successful. Somehow, that made me feel just a little less safer living in the big city. If they could not find her with the information I had given, how could they locate terrorists living in our midst? But that is another tale to explore... Anyway, the officer told me I was entitled to the money.
So on Monday, I went to the Property Clerk. They buzzed me in. I showed my I.D. but was told that the officer responsible for cutting a check for me was out to lunch. I said I'd be back soon. Thoughts of ramming a truck into the office filtered into my mind... then I noticed the other customers lining up behind me. Dressed in wife-beaters, crooked baseball caps and expensive sneakers, they appeared to me the sort of characters that might have found their way into the city's jails and were here to retrieve their own possessions upon being released. Some of them cursed under their breaths when told they would have to come back later.
Prefering not to learn anymore about them, I left to have lunch and came back. The same folks were ahead of me, milling about the locked office. One of them became frustrated and mentioned to no one in particular that he needed to "take a leak, man." I saw him walk in the direction of some parked police cars. A few minutes later, the Clerk started letting people in. I quickly gave my name again and a moment later, he presented me with a check. Woohoo!
After taking into account the lunch I had, which was a pizza, soda and a bottle of water, I came out about $57.01 ahead. I deposited the money and relished in the thought that the honor system had worked out in my favor for once. But what, you might ask, will I spend the money on? Unfortunately, I had received a $115 parking ticket some three weeks ago owing to my own error in not spotting a ten foot "No parking except for DOT permit" sign in a public lot... so the money is already spent. In this 15-degree tilted world, the best I could achieve was to owe the city less money. Oh well. I guess that's not so bad a deal...
So I went to work and called a friend, Maria, and asked her if I should just turn it over to the cops or try to find the owner and hand it back to her. Maria recommened that I do the latter. I decided to do the former, if only because I didn't want to be accused by some unfamiliar crazy woman of robbing her. However, I did Google her name and saw that she only lived a few blocks from me. I also jotted down her phone number.
I kept the wallet the rest of the day. Like Frodo, I felt a terrible burden. Though it was only $60.01, I still needed several saving throws to avoid the fate that befell the Ring Wraiths. I went home, told my wife what I'd found, and called the woman to tell her I would be bringing the wallet to the local precinct. I got hold of her machine, so I left a message. I gave only my first name and did not leave my own number.
I walked to the precinct and waited until one of the desk officers lifted her eyes to acknowledge me. I told her the story and presented the booty. She seemed surprised. "We don't normally find wallets with money in it."
"I can believe that. Hey, here's the address of the woman. I looked up her information on the internet."
She thanked me and handed me a receipt.
Months passed. I often thought about what might have happened with the wallet. I also wondered why I was such a boy scout. In this crazy world of terrorism, Apprentice-show cutthroat competition and religious hypocrisy, were my values sadly based on The Little Rascals and Aruthurian fantasies? Should I not have kept the money and bought grocery with it?
Then last weekend, I recieved a letter from the NYPD Property Clerk informing me that they had something that belonged to me. At first, I thought it was the heroin that I had turned in some 20 months ago from a former cleint of mine. I was somewhat concerned that this might be a trap. But I called the Clerk and the officer explained that it was indeed about the found currency. She also asked if I knew a "Jennifer Tully." I said no. She said that the wallet had belonged to her but efforts to contact her were not successful. Somehow, that made me feel just a little less safer living in the big city. If they could not find her with the information I had given, how could they locate terrorists living in our midst? But that is another tale to explore... Anyway, the officer told me I was entitled to the money.
So on Monday, I went to the Property Clerk. They buzzed me in. I showed my I.D. but was told that the officer responsible for cutting a check for me was out to lunch. I said I'd be back soon. Thoughts of ramming a truck into the office filtered into my mind... then I noticed the other customers lining up behind me. Dressed in wife-beaters, crooked baseball caps and expensive sneakers, they appeared to me the sort of characters that might have found their way into the city's jails and were here to retrieve their own possessions upon being released. Some of them cursed under their breaths when told they would have to come back later.
Prefering not to learn anymore about them, I left to have lunch and came back. The same folks were ahead of me, milling about the locked office. One of them became frustrated and mentioned to no one in particular that he needed to "take a leak, man." I saw him walk in the direction of some parked police cars. A few minutes later, the Clerk started letting people in. I quickly gave my name again and a moment later, he presented me with a check. Woohoo!
After taking into account the lunch I had, which was a pizza, soda and a bottle of water, I came out about $57.01 ahead. I deposited the money and relished in the thought that the honor system had worked out in my favor for once. But what, you might ask, will I spend the money on? Unfortunately, I had received a $115 parking ticket some three weeks ago owing to my own error in not spotting a ten foot "No parking except for DOT permit" sign in a public lot... so the money is already spent. In this 15-degree tilted world, the best I could achieve was to owe the city less money. Oh well. I guess that's not so bad a deal...
posted by Alan at 7:15 AM
2 Comments:
And yet the mystery remains. Who was this woman? Why did she not want her wallet? How could you miss a 10 foot sign?
- Sean
I...don't know. Perhaps the story will be continued in Lord of the Wallet: The Two Credit Cards!
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