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Miscellaneous


Tackling the Gunmen
St. Joseph's College Magazine, Trichy, 1950.
By A.S.P.Gift, II U.C. 

A young man entered a small post-office late in the afternoon. He threw a quick glance around, walked briskly to the cashier, whipped out a revolver, and "Hands up !" he said in a low voice, "and take it easy, pal. Hand o'er the dough. Quick." When he emerged, he was worth thousands and he roared away in his coupe in broad daylight. He was new to the trade and congratulated himself on making money so easily. However, when he was at his breakfast next morning, he heard a knock and two sturdy policemen rushed in, to take him away to the headquarters. How could he realize that the crazy cops had found the license number of his car?

When we read in the papers about some hold-up, followed by the capture of the gangsters, we are not told how the Police managed the job.

Just before midnight the telephone rings at the desk of a police sergeant and the voice at the other end brings him bolt upright in his seat. He notes the address and the police car races through the streets with the loud siren on. When they hear of the details of the hold-up, they question the witnesses and get more or less good descriptions of the hold-up men. The Police short-wave radio at once broadcasts the news and every car leaving the country or state, with its occupants, is checked. This widespread drag-net makes it almost impossible for the gunmen to slip through the fingers of the law.

The witnesses are led to the police-station and asked whether there were any strangers in the vicinity just before the stick-up. They are given a number of photographs of the armed bandits and in many cases some chief members of the gang are identified. This makes it much easier for the Police, though it will not work when masked bandits stage a stick-up.

The gangsters mostly use a new car and many note the license number, which proves valuable to the Police. The Police check it up and trace the car to the owner, sometimes only to find the sedan to be a stolen one with stolen licence plates. When they hear that the car has been abandoned they rush to the scene and get valuable clues, say a handkerchief with a new laundry mark or some clear finger-prints. They carefully dust the steering-wheel, window-panes, and door-handles and photograph the finger-prints. The finger-print experts check them in the Police file and some members of the gang are taken into custody unawares, though some fugitives leave no clues or finger-prints behind them.

Even after weeks the sleuths have hope. Every city has its own underworld and some of the detectives move among these bad characters.

They get their news from what they call stool-pigeons. These "stoolies" are busy gathering information and somehow or other manage to give all the details about the 'tough guys' and get rewards. Every man has his enemy, and anonymous phone-calls are of much help to the Police. The secret service agents lie wide awake for those careless guys who freely spend money shortly after the hold-up. This arouses suspicion and they are shadowed till the Police gather enough evidence for their arrest.

As soon as the bandits are identified, a vigorous search is made for them in their usual haunts and secret service agents are posted. The plain-clothes men are busy getting a list of their friends, and these are brought under surveillance. At the same time Post-Office inspectors are busy checking their letters.

They find it easy enough to follow the trail when they have the photographs, and luxurious restaurants are checked with the help of the handwriting experts even if the gangsters have a hundred aliases. A final effort to bring them behind the bars is made when thousands of photographs of the criminals are circulated. When a reward is promised, some newspapers print them. Some of the readers are fortunate enough to recognize the features and inform the Police.

It is not an easy joke to arrest the so-called tough guys. These iron-nerved gangsters with their itchy trigger fingers are ready with their hands on their hip-pockets. They have no pity whatsoever and if a policeman makes a careless noise their revolvers come out in a flash, and yelling "Take that, cop," they pump lead into their victim.

The Police bring their iron arm into use and cry "Gangsterism should go." They go for the raid armed to the teeth, with sub-machine guns, revolvers, bullet-proof vests, and the inevitable tear-gas bombs. They wait till it grows dark, surround the place, take positions behind some cover and at dawn they order the bandits to come out. Usually a volley of shots answers them and the gun-battle begins. In the meantime some of the officers manage to throw in some tear-gas shells and wait for the result. The firing ceases abruptly and one after the other comes out coughing with his hands high up in the air, crying, "Don't shoot. We surrender." If an arrest has to be made in a hotel, the Police try to avoid bloodshed and enter the room when their quarry is out or in bed and take him prisoner unawares. Thus the widespread man-hunt ends.

Even if a gang is not identified and the members rounded up, the long arm of the law waits till they strike next, to teach them that crime does not pay.

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