Baltimore, 2015. Riots were erupting across the city as citizens demanded justice for Freddie Gray, a twenty-five-year-old black man who died in police custody. At the same time, drug and violent crime were once again surging.
For years, Sgt Wayne Jenkins and his team of plain-clothed officers - the Gun Trace Task Force - were the city's lauded and decorated heroes. But all the while they had been skimming from the drug busts they made, pocketing thousands in cash found in private homes and planting fake evidence to throw Internal Affairs off their scent. Because who would believe the dealers, the smugglers or people who had simply been going about their daily business over the word of the city's elite task force?
Now, in light of their spectacular trial of late 2018, and in a work of astounding reportage and painstaking self-discovery, Justin Fenton has pieced together a shocking story of systemic corruption.
3.5 "detailed, fast paced, disillusioning" stars !!!
Thank you to Netgalley, the author and both Faber & Faber as well as Random House Publishing for an ecopy of this book. This was released February 2021. I am providing an honest review.
I am going to keep this review relatively short. This was a very good to excellent compiling of events in 2010's Baltimore about an elite group of plainclothes officers that got away with many years of racketeering, false arrests, corruption and led to the ruining of many lives as well as the loss of others. This group was brought down by the FBI and most culprits have been locked away for 12 to 25 years. The focus is on Wayne Jenkins who appeared to mastermind and bring colleagues into the fray as well as protect some friends and family to sell the drugs of all the drug busts he had committed.
The writing is precise and logical and you can see in your mind's eye all that transpires over the years. The clear prose allows the reader to keep all the many subjects relatively clear in your mind. This is absolutely excellent and impartial investigative journalism. HBO has also produced a six part series docudrama based on these events. If I see it...I will report back as an addendum in this review.
What would have made this a four or 4.5 star book is some collaboration with experts. I would have loved some in depth analysis of the psychology of the rogue cops (forensic and/or clinical psychologist), how a police force could allow this to go unchecked for so very long (organizational or political sociologist) and some historical context of how all these events were brought to the forefront by a local historian with a focus on race relations.
All in all, an eye-opening and truly poor reflection on Baltimore. Kudos to the author for presenting such a cohesive look at the sequential events that brought these criminal cops down.
Fenton, A Baltimore Sun reporter, gives us an account of corruption in the Baltimore Police Department. He follows the career of Wayne Jenkins who rises through the ranks to lead a special plain clothes unit. He builds a stellar record of arrests and drug busts, but he learns to bend the rules to get the job done: arresting without probable cause, searching without a warrant, planting evidence, lying and more. Most of the action takes place between 2013 and 2018 in a city in turmoil. Responding to rising crime rates, get-tough commissioners were selected. They told the force to do whatever it took to bring down the murder rate and flow of drugs. When police tactics went over the top and people reacted, a new commissioner would be selected to reign in the police. Then when the police stood down and drugs and murders erupted again the cycle would repeat. Mayors and states attorneys shifted their rhetoric as the public mood dictated.
Sgt Jenkins knew how to work the politics of the police department and make friends at the top. He was a hero to his peers and superiors who just wanted results. Jenkins learns he can do more than just make arrests; he can profit from it too. He soon is stealing drugs and money from those he stops. He delivers the drugs to a friend to sell them. He shares the money with his accomplices, the other policemen that he personally selects to be in his unit. Jenkins gives the orders, when to strike, when to lay low. Jenkins determines whether all or part of the money and drugs are taken. He might let a small dealer go if the dealer leads him to a bigger dealer. Jenkins and his crew patrol areas of heavy drug trafficking stopping anybody who looks like they might have large amounts of money or drugs. He would also confiscate guns and turn them in, a priority for his supervisors from whom he earned consistent praise for his record of gun seizures. But only small amounts of the drugs and cash he found were turned in.
Supervisors considered him a role model for other police officers. They dismissed concerns that his tactics often meant cases were dismissed and led to internal reviews. On the street, the dealers knew Jenkins was a dirty cop as did their lawyers. And so did the feds. When Jenkins began robbing the homes of dealers outside the city, drug police in neighboring counties became aware of Jenkins. They had gone to the FBI about another city cop who they suspected of stealing. A wiretap was set up. Then that cop went to Jenkins unit and Jenkin’s crimes were revealed. The county cops worked with the FBI but the city police were excluded to prevent leaks. The task force discovered Jenkins shaking down dealers and going to their homes and ransacking them, using a battering ram to break open a safe if needed. Even the FBI was shocked at the scale of Jenkins crimes.
Jenkins and his cohorts were arrested, some flipped trying to save themselves. All went to Jail, Jenkins for 25 years. More police were found to have been doing the same things, although not to Jenkins' scale. One commits suicide. Fenton reports on their stories too as well as the drama of the investigation and trial. He quotes a police authority who notes that these police had to learn their ways from former police. But there are honest cops on the Baltimore police force and that comes out too. It is hard to know just how widespread the corruption is in the department. Regular cops would not have had the freedom that Jenkins’ special plain clothes unit had to do whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted, wherever they wanted.
Fenton intersperses reporting of the Freddie Gray murder and resulting riots into his reporting of Jenkins. We see the city’s unrest as a backdrop to the Jenkin’s story. We also see the constant hiring and firing of new police commissioners with essentially no change as the cycle of hard enforcement to light enforcement and back again repeats. Strict enforcement lowers the murder rate, but brings out citizen complaints about police tactics. Light enforcement raises the murder rate which doesn’t make people happy either. Fenton doesn’t offer an answer. I am not sure given the power of drug money over both private citizens and police that there is one, save just decriminalizing drugs. Fenton gives us a well-researched and an informative book that makes clear how difficult it is to both control crime and control police in big city America.
For years, Baltimore police offers from the Gun Trace Task Force searched people without justification, went into people's homes without warrants, planted evidence, stole money, and recirculated drugs back into the community. The few complaints received were ignored —after all, who would believe an alleged criminal? As the author surmises: "While the police department leadership begged citizens to cooperate, and many officers were working to improve community relations, some of its most elite officers were running roughshod over Black men in poor neighbourhoods, creating a free-fire zone for anyone seeking to exploit them."
Justin Fenton retells this sorry tale with equanimity. He does not make himself the story, as many journalists like to do. Instead, this book is an incredible piece of investigative journalism. The undoing of the corrupt officers unfolds in the shadow of the Baltimore protests of 2015, following the death of Freddie Gray in police custody. Fenton subtly links the two ostensibly separate cases. Crime is rampant in Baltimore and police are needed. However, effective policing and reasonable relations with minority populations will always be doomed if those who have sworn to protect and serve conduct themselves with contempt.
The corrupt members of the BPD were eventually imprisoned. However, there were no convictions regarding the death of Freddie Gray. This may underscore a failure of institutional legitimacy. Authority is more than legal sanction. It must also be morally justifiable to those it governs. Many Baltimore residents do not trust the police. Rebuilding trust with the community is not just a practical goal but an ethical imperative. As Sir Robert Peel once argued, "The ability of the police to perform their duties is dependent upon public approval of police existence, actions, behaviour, and the ability of the police to secure and maintain public respect."
I live in Baltimore so I have been following the story over the years, but to have everything compiled into one place with all the details and facts really blows your mind just how devastating the drug war is and how out of control policing has become because of it.
"In 2018, his drug dealing partner remarked that the police officers of Baltimore owned the city." pg 270
"Team work makes the DREAM work!" pg 148
This was engaging and hard to believe it was real. Minus the mob arc, this made me reminisce about the movie Cop Land with the corruption, lies, and bold crimes. This was a well-written and evenly paced narrative about a corrupt plainclothes police unit within the Baltimore Police Department, the Gun Trace Task Force, GTTF, from it's creation in 2007, it's gradual deterioration into corruption in the 2010s, and the disbanding, arrest & conviction of it's officers.
Justin Fenton did an excellent job of telling the story, the history of Baltimore and it's history of racial tensions and crime, it's history of policing and Baltimore PD culture, and the backstories of the individuals involved: both the investigated and the investigators. The narrative told about the "biggest corruption case in the history of the [Baltimore Police] department" that involved officers and their crimes (robbery, drug dealing, overtime theft, evidence tampering, even alleged homicide). The level of corruption went as far as the killing of a fellow detective responding to a call the day before he was to testify before the grand jury. The crew kept a close circle as the money and power came, their guise of work productivity, getting guns off the streets, making arrests kept the brass from over scrutinizing their work. The author showed the gradual workup as described by a fellow officer in that "Command created the monster, and allowed it to go unchecked." (pg 197)
The narrative overall was exciting to read and I was engaged the whole time. I would recommend this to anyone interested in true crime and American policing (corrupt cops that is). It was tuened into a show on HBO; I haven't seen it so I dont know how they compare. Thanks!
Czyta się jak dobrze napisany thriller policyjny, ciężko jest wręcz miejscami uwierzyć, że to wydarzyło się naprawdę. Korupcja, przemoc policyjna, mnóstwo nadużyć i wiele więcej- książka może być dla niektórych wskazówką do zrozumienia zjawisk zachodzących obecnie w Stanach w związku z licznymi systemowymi zaniedbaniami. Niestety, mimo to w trakcie czytania odkryłem, że to chyba jednak trochę „nie mój temat”, nie mam książce nic poważnego do zarzucenia, a jednak czysto subiektywnie się w niej nie odnalazłem (zwłaszcza w licznych nazwiskach, dla osób z afantazją zapamiętanie kto był kim to koszmar). Plusik za polskie wydanie i świetne tłumaczenie Kai Gucio. 3,5
We Own This City is a book that probably won’t surprise you and likely will infuriate you — Baltimore taxpayers’ money funding crooked cops, largely unchecked, who were framing citizens while they were the ones actually abusing resources and committing crimes. While the story is sadly somewhat familiar, it was still interesting to listen to. I appreciated learning that there were “some” consequences eventually. We Own This City is a well-done investigative journalism story by reporter, Justin Fenton, and as always, Dion Graham did a great job narrating the audiobook.
Ive been a police officer for 17 years and am astonished and also realistic that corruption on this level can occur. Now I dont live in the USA and its different over there but the total lack of supervision of these officers is what caused this to occur. Robberies, planting drugs, selling drugs, fraud, lying under oath and more is eye opening it happened for so long. The fact so many officers were involved in misconduct shows that it was tolerated on a high level and shows that the Baltimore Police Department had systemic issues from top to bottom. This was not just one rogue officer it was a major problem from top to bottom.
It is written very well and is totally engrossing. It follows the story of the Gun Trace Task Force in Baltimore a plainclothes unit on their rise and demise and how they were protected by the top brass cause they produced results. Its a really good read that ends bad for those officers and the community. 4.5 rounded down to 4.
Justin Fenton’s We Own This City is an enthralling chronicle of shameful and shocking police corruption in modern-day Baltimore, Maryland. A band of police officers runs criminally rampant, with criminal investigations taking years before their eventual downfall.
We Own This City starts out slowly, but after gaining its hold, the book unfolds like a relentless, well-crafted fictional police procedural. Only this time, the police are the villains and this is a true story.
The main focus is on plainclothed street detectives and the Gun Trace Task Force (GTTF) unit led by a detective sergeant named Wayne Jenkins. Jenkins and those he supervises are tasked with tackling gun crime and investigating the most dangerous of criminals in the city of Baltimore. In police jargon, Jenkins is best described as being a “cop’s cop” and roams wild in the city producing favorable results envied by many. Almost by design, the criminal behavior of Jenkins, and those like him, mainly goes unnoticed because to most, success is indicated by putting drug, gun, and money statistics up on the board. Results by these supposed cream-of-the-crop police officers are looked at in awe and celebration by not only peers outside of this working group, but by their supervisors and department administrators as well. Unfortunately, what all those outside of Jenkins’ working crew do not know is during all of this time, Jenkins and the other officers have been committing just as many crimes as those they are supposed to be jailing.
Fenton especially excels at the telling of a complex, exciting story based on voluminous research without the depiction of overwhelming statistics and data dragging into the storytelling. Fenton is also successful at portraying those targeted by Jenkins and his fellow police officers in a sympathetic manner even though they themselves are clearly not angels. While these patrons of the streets are committing criminal acts themselves, Fenton is still able to place a human face upon them. He also points out, as victims of robberies, home invasions, or planted or fabricated evidence, these targets realize it is futile to report such incidents because they know whose word will be believed.
On top of the excellent research, Fenton also aptly explains just how Jenkins and other police officers were able to commit these acts for so long. In his explanation, under the political demands and pressure for lower violent crime in Baltimore, too many (especially supervisors and administrators) turned a blind eye to misbehavior if such aggressive law enforcement tactics brought the promise of lower violent crime. In other words, too few were willing to dig too deep or even pay much attention to officer conduct as long as crime rates started to decline.
I will not be surprised if We Own This City is quickly snatched up for movie adaptation.
NetGalley provided an ARC for the promise of a fair review. This review was originally published at MysteryandSuspense.com.
„- Mieli coś więcej niż władzę. Więcej niż władzę powiedział później Hamilton - w wywiadzie dla „The New York Times'. - Mieli kryptonit. Ci gliniarze robili wszystko, co chcieli, każdemu w tym mieście. Są ludzie, którzy poszli do więzienia za coś, co nigdy, przenigdy nie miało miejsca, a wszystko dlatego, że koleś z odznaką wstał i tak powiedział”. Ten cytat dokładnie opisuje o czym jest reportaż śledczy „Miasto jest nasze” - w skrócie to książka o grupie amerykańskich policjantów z Baltimore, którzy zamiast ścigać przestępców, sami byli przestępcami, a zamiast chronić społeczeństwo, chronili sami siebie. Wszystko zaczyna się w 2015 roku kiedy w Baltimore wybuchają zamieszki po tym jak Freddie Gray umiera w areszcie w niewyjaśnionych okolicznościach. To zdarzenie rozpoczyna tworzenie się państwa w państwie w baltimorskieh policji. Funkcjonariusze włamują sie do domów podejrzanych bez nakazów, zatrzymują randomowych czarnoskórych obywateli bez prawnego powodu, podrzucają im narkotyki lub broń, a innym którym faktycznie konfiskują narkotyki, zabierają nielegalne substancje… i sprzedają je dalej dilerom. Tak tak, to wszystko wydarzyło się w wielkiej Ameryce, ostoi wolności, równości i demokracji, choć opis tych wydarzeń brzmi bardziej jak scenariusz mainstreamowego filmu sensacyjnego Fenton wykonał ogromną i pełną niebezpieczeństw robotę by zdemaskować skorumpowany gang policjantów. Potem spisał to tak, że czyta się jak rasową powieść sensacyjną. I co istotne mimo masy informacji, nazwisk, zdarzeń autor przekazuje to w bardzo przystępny sposób więc bez problemu łączymy sobie w głowie wszystkie nitki tej sprawy. Oczywiście dla mnie było to czytanie z telefonem w ręku bo doszukiwałam w google zdjęć czy dodatkowych informacji na temat poszczególnych osób czy spraw. Czytajcie!
It’s good, but I preferred I Got a Monster, and you really don’t need to read both. I found the narrative here harder to follow. The main advantage of this book over I Got a Monster is it doesn’t have the weird hero worship of Ivan Bates.
Good writing on a crazy story. Having just read I Got a Monster on the same subject, I can say both offer unique information on the topic, though there's obviously a ton of overlap. I found We Own This City to read a bit more like literary journalism and had a bit more depth to it - I especially liked the epilogue where Fenton reconnects with a Crips gang member who protected him during the 2015 riots. If I had to choose one to recommend, I'd suggest this one, though no harm in just reading I Got a Monster as well!
I picked this up because I am watching the adaption on HBO (it is excellent). Fenton does an excellent job in reporting and in the case of the unsolved aspects of the story - the death of a detective - presents both main sides - suicide vs murder. He also examines the what the impact is on the community.
Zauważyliście, że nikt inny jak Amerykanie nie może pochwalić się równie ogromną liczbą znakomitych i niezwykle realistycznych filmowych i telewizyjnych produkcji policyjnych? Francuzi mieli Mellville’a, Giovanniego i Verneuila, a Włosi swoje poliziotteschi - jednak to właśnie amerykańskie kino jest przede wszystkim kojarzone z brutalnymi, skorumpowanymi gliniarzami. Reportaż Justina Fentona tylko udowadnia, że legendarny niehonorowy amerykański policjant to żaden mit, a machlojki i brudne interesy policji, które oglądamy w hollywoodzkich akcyjniakach i proceduralach to nie bajeczki wyssane z palca, a stuprocentowa prawda. Amerykańscy scenarzyści nie muszą szczycić się wielką wyobraźnią i fantazją - wystarczy ze wyjdą na ulicę i voila - materiał do scenariusza kolejnego hitu o złych policjantach mają pod ręką. „Miasto jest nasze” czyta się właśnie jak przeniesiony na karty książki sezon The Wire bądź współczesnego kontynuatora brudnego, surowego policyjnego kina lat 70 w stylu „Serpico”. Fenton rzetelnie i – jak na doświadczonego dziennikarza śledczego przystało – relacjonuje głośną sprawę baltimorskiego oddziału policjantów zamieszanych w korupcję, fałszowanie zeznań i dowodów, wyłudzenia, handel narkotykami czy brutalne zachowania wobec świadków i ofiar . Dziennikarz szczegółowo kreśli sylwetki głównych bohaterów (chociaż tu odpowiedniejsze byłoby określenie - „antybohaterów”), śledzi ich drogę od samego początku kariery w służbie mundurowej, aż po głośne procesy związane z ich gangsterską działalnością. Autor trafnie punktuje ich niepokojące, patologiczne zachowania i nawyki, które już w początkach zatrudnienia w baltimorskiej jednostce powinny zapalić czerwoną lampkę u współpracowników. Obraz policji wyłaniający się z reportażu Fentona jest przerażający do szpiku kości - to kompletne zaprzeczenie powszechnej definicji tego organu - tj. formacji przeznaczonej do ochrony bezpieczeństwa ludzi i mienia oraz do utrzymywania bezpieczeństwa i porządku publicznego. Oddział z Baltimore to zwykli przestępcy - ich chlebem powszednim są kradzieże ogromnej ilości pieniędzy od świadków, podrzucanie fałszywych dowodów, niczym nieuzasadniona przemoc i wyjątkowo brutalne napady. Pierwsza połowa reportażu Fentona składa się praktycznie głównie z licznych opisów patologicznych zdarzeń z udziałem policjantów-przestępców i szczerze mówiąc tak jak sam początek czytałam z żywym zainteresowaniem i wypiekami na twarzy - tak po kilkudziesięciu stronach monotonia i dłużyzny zaczęły dawać się we znaki. Na szczęście w drugiej części książki do akcji z przytupem wkracza FBI i tu zaczyna się dynamiczna, niedająca czytelnikowi ani chwili wytchnienia pogoń za przestępcami-stróżami prawa. Od tego momentu „Miasto jest nasze” to istny rollercoaster, kipiący energią pościg trzymający w napięciu jak finał „Brudnego Harry’ego” bądź klasyk policyjnego kina sensacyjnego w reżyserii Friedkina. Nieodkładane do samego końca! Porażająca i niemieszcząca się w głowie jest skala korupcji, nieczystych powiązań i wzajemnego krycia, przymykania oczu na karygodne i skandaliczne przypadki łamania prawa przez tych, którzy owego prawa powinni strzec i je egzekwować. Czyta się jak najlepszą klasyczną amerykańska powieść akcji! Bardzo dobre!
One of my all-time favorite TV shows is The Wire, for which David Simon was the creator, show runner, executive producer and head writer. Between that show and the podcast Serial and subsequent book Adnan’s Story, I was fairly well convinced that Baltimore had just about the most corrupt law enforcement and city/county government around. Then I picked up Justin Fenton’s book We Own This City (thanks to Random House and NetGallley for a copy in exchange for this honest review), and realized I could not even imagine the extent to which crime ran rampant throughout Baltimore, among both criminals and the law enforcement officers who were supposed to be protecting the citizens.
Mr. Fenton is a crime reporter for the Baltimore Sun, David Simon’s early home as a reporter. It was Simon who suggested the idea for a book that would tell the story of what happened in Baltimore up to and including cases such as Freddy Gray, Ahmaud Arbery, and George Floyd. The book is superb, with a title taken from a quote by one of Fenton’s primary sources, a member of the Crips gang. Speaking about the city, the gangs, and the police: “We still run this shit…as a police officer, you can literally only do what we allow you to do. We–as far as the community itself, even the drug dealers–we run this city.””
In Baltimore, in 2015, riots broke out across the city following the death of Freddie Gray, a twenty-five-year-old Black man who died under suspicious circumstances while in police custody. Baltimore police commanders turned to a “rank-and-file hero,” Sergeant Wayne Jenkins, and his elite plainclothes unit, the Gun Trace Task Force (GTTF), to get things under control.
Instead of taking down the bad guys, members of the Gun Trace Task Force did the opposite. They took drugs they would sell themselves, pocketed cash rather than turn it in, and planted evidence to get the convictions they wanted and to divert attention away from themselves. As a result, wrongful convictions were the norm, innocent civilians died, and one officer was shot in the head one day before he was scheduled to testify against the GTTF.
An incredible amount of research went into this book, including extensive reviewing of court transcripts and interviewing people on both sides of the law. He succeeds in presenting the victims of the GTTF as sympathetic, despite them clearly being less than squeaky clean when it comes to following the law. He shows how they realized that it was futile to pursue justice, as the police would ALWAYS be believed. Just as in The Wire, the police and city officials were under orders to reduce their crime stats. As it turned out, some officers were complicit and many were willing to look the other way when it came to officer conduct. As long as the numbers were improving, everything was fine. Fenton gets this across without drowning the reader with numbers and data. In the end, it is disgusting, sad, and eye-opening. The one ray of sunshine is the fact that investigative journalism still exists, in this case at a very high level. Mr. Fenton has done an amazing job. Five stars.
Between my interest in David Simon and my interest in the Freddie Gray case, I pay some attention to my birth city of Baltimore, and I knew a reasonable amount about the Gun Trace Task Force. My partner and I watched the TV dramatization of this book and appreciated it, and that led me to the book itself.
Fenton is a reporter for the Baltimore Sun and was on this beat. He does a good job of setting the scene at the BPD, primarily following Wayne Jenkins, who does seem to have been the driving force behind the operatic excesses of the GTTF; he also does something David Simon would have benefitted from doing, which is follow and profile some of the Task Force victims, and elaborate on their situations.
In the end, however, as I should have expected, the book told me more about rotten policing and the cover-up of rotten policing than I needed to know, especially since the GTTF may have been slightly more dramatic than others, but its story of complete corruption and nonexistent control is replicating itself all over the country, even though Jenkins and a couple of his worst lieutenants are actually in jail (which doesn't often happen to dirty cops).
Makes you want to go take a long hot bath and wash the scum off.
nie umiem ocenić tej książki. sprawa jest oddana rzetelnie, z najmniejszymi szczegółami, ale nadmiar opisów mnie wyczerpał. przed połową chciałam strzelić dnf- dobrze, że tego nie zrobiłam, ale nie czytało się jej przyjemnie mimo tematyki, która mnie interesuje. ilość dat, miejsc, opisów jest chyba aż wyczerpująca, ale jednocześnie to sprawia, że materiał jest dobrze sporządzony. idk, po prostu to reportaż dla bardziej wymagających odbiorców niż ja
Slammed through the last ~200 pages of this one tonight. This is one cuh-ray-zay story, and sadly all-too-believable—the inevitable end result of ~50 years of the "War on Drugs," and one incident of what I do not doubt are many pockmarking the police departments of all nations involved in that destructive farce. If you've got a passing interest in civics/policing/drugs + the war on, this is an easy read. This applies to my fellow non-Americans who nonetheless dip into American nonfic for its meticulous sourcing and find themselves exploring the implications/ramifications on their own worlds. Or just people who want a great (if cuh-ray-zay) story.
Now, I get the feeling that people will be flocking to this book in the wake of the HBO adaptation David Simon/George Pelecanos/Ed Burns are cooking up, which they (people) damn well should. I myself picked read it out of curiosity on how they'd adapt it, particularly since the teaser trailer suggests that a bunch of almost-throwaway scenes in the book are getting expanded in the show. Good thing, too, because there's a healthy chunk of notes at the end where Justin Fenton explains his sources which I'm sure Simon and co. drew from.
But the book itself can be confusing as all hell. Look, Fenton did an honourable job writing up this sprawling narrative, but there's no effort to help bracket the cast, and I had to resort to a piece of paper and news stories to graph who was who. Worse, I couldn't always tell (for example) which Gun Trace Taskforce members and victims were (for example) black, white, Latino, etc. in a story this racially charged—a story unfolding over the (marginally related) Freddie Gray "riots." Could've used some signposting there.
And while many paragraphs cast the Baltimore Police Department's culture as corrupt, no context for why or exploration of how, exactly, is provided. Perhaps that's understandable. Less understandable is the lack of context on the War on Drugs or its effect on creating the circumstances for rot like the GTTF to sprout. There's an assumption readers are familiar with the sociopolitical history.
But it's hard to knock it. It's a good and thoughtful read relating an astonishing story that neither condemns policework in all-too-simplistic terms a la leftist social media nor misapprehends (pun intended) the gravity of police militarisation's effect on communities. Despite my misgivings, I recommend We Own This City.
I can't imagine what the next couple of decades of this shit will look like if these awful, misguided anti-crime campaigns aren't curbed.
To be perfectly honest prior to reading this astonishing book the only thing I knew about the Baltimore Police Department was through watching the fictional television series The Wire. If the revelations disclosed in this book were presented in a fictional novel or screenplay they would be laughed at, as they are so far fetched but unbelievably they are true. Justin Fenton, a crime reporter with the Baltimore Sun, has produced a truly shocking but highly readable account of crime and corruption carried out within the force over a number of years by a select group of plainclothes officers. They carried out thefts, robberies and frauds and in a lot of instances planted or fabricated evidence to gain convictions. Their victims were usually criminals who were very likely unwilling to report the crime or if they did they were unlikely to be believed. I also think what makes the story even more shocking was that the specialist squad was held is such high regard by their superior officers due to their high success rate. Possibly one of the best ‘true crime’ novels I’ve read, as despite the complexity of the story, Fenton has produced a truly engrossing read that must have taken years of painstaking research to compile.
I picked this up because I like Justin Fenton's work and wanted to support him, and because I wanted a bit more understanding of the Gun Trace Task Force scandal, which was legendary in Baltimore. One of the worst police corruption scandals to come to light that I'm aware of.
I already knew the rough outlines of the scandal, but this book gave me a more nuanced understanding — the dirty cops are dirty, sure, but there's a broader picture to be had. Senior leadership doesn't have to be dirty themselves for this to happen. The right incentives, lax supervision, etc. can create an environment for this kind of misconduct.
I was a bit surprised that the book ended when it did, around 81% on my Kindle. The rest is endnotes, acknowledgments, and so on. The book was in the weeds of the investigation and then ended almost abruptly. I thought there would be a bit more detail on the aftermath, and on the death of Sean Suiter, but I guess there are too many unknowns there.
Zanim przeczytałam książkę - obejrzałam serial na HBO Max. Nie to, żebym jakoś przepadała za serialami kryminalnymi, ale twórcą tego jest David Simon, człowiek od wybornego Prawa ulicy. Obejrzałam i.. zawiodłam się. To nie było drugie Prawo ulicy. Jakieś to takie pocięte, chaotyczne, mało fabularne. Po przeczytaniu książki Fentona muszę zweryfikować swoją ocenę i westchnąć nad niemądrym oczekiwanie, że kolejny serial twórcy powtórzy schemat poprzedniego. W serialu udało się zawrzeć większość książki, niebywałe! A doskonale dobrany Jon Bernthal jako Wayne Jenkins (tak samo jak inni aktorzy, ale główny ‘bohater’ szczególnie), to pokazują klasę twórców. Sam reportaż/serial pokazują ciemne oblicze baltimorskiej policji i stanowią wycinek tła społecznego w USA, w szczególności w kontekście rasowym. Nie ma tu szukania przyczyn, wyjaśniania stanu rzeczy, jest opis sytuacji. Reszty trzeba się dowiedzieć z innych źródeł. W serialu drugoplanowani policjanci mają bardziej wyraziste charaktery niż w książce. Może to zasługa medium przyoblekającego nazwisko w ciało. Jednak sam Jenkins bynajmniej nie jest papierowy. To dzięki niemu ta historia zostaje z widzką/czytelniczką na dłużej, nie jest prosta, czarno-biała, pracuje w odbiorczyni, sprawia, że mimo braku zachwytu serialem, chce się sięgnąć po książkę.
Crime Reporter for the Baltimore Sun Justin Fenton covers one of the biggest scandals in Baltimore Police history in an absorbing account of Wayne Jenkins and the Gun Trace Task Force (the GTTF). In the wake of the Freddie Gray riots of 2015 and the subsequent spike in crime--murders hitting 342 a year--a group of elite cops are called upon by police leadership to do something about it; To get the guns off the street, to take down the bad guys by any means necessary.
In that chaos, a group led by Sgt Wayne Jenkins, a gung-ho hard charging officer who is not afraid to bend the rules to get things done, take this opportunity to abuse the citizens of Baltimore in a wide-ranging campaign of robbing drug dealers and setting up innocent people and hoping that the charges stick (they more often do not). Jenkins’ reckless barely legal tactics cast a wide net, often landing the innocent in with the guilty. He kept a supply of BB guns to plant on crime scenes in case someone needed to offer cover for a bad shooting (“I thought it was a gun, what was I supposed to do?”) And in many cases, the culture he fostered meant that his men took money off of suspects, splitting it amongst his group of dirty officers while management looked the other way (or maybe they didn’t know, but who believes that?).
Meanwhile, there are victims who suffer for this, many of whom are falsely imprisoned, some who are killed as the result of one of Jenkins’ many reckless driving adventures. Many whose lives are, at the very least sidetracked by the court system in which they were brought into because of a bad arrest by Jenkins. Also, the story of Officer Sean Suiter and his mysterious slaying in Harlem Park one day before he was to testify in the GTTF case is explored. For the record, it is officially considered an unsolved homicide. (Also for the record: I don’t for one minute believe that he killed himself.)
I am a little biased and invested in things relating to my adopted home city of Baltimore. This is in fact the second book I have read about the GTTF. But I must say, this one is better than I Got a Monster. Fenton has written a terrific account of all of this. Well-documented and novelistic, We Own This City is a must-read for anyone who wants to understand the nuances of why Baltimore is the way it is. It goes far beyond simple knee jerk reactions that people offer, who often don’t live here and don’t care one way or the other.
Mimo ze to debiut, książka jest świetnie napisana. Czyta się szybko i sprawnie. Dla mnie ciężkie były do ogarnięcie tylko te różne stopnie w policji, powiązania między agencjami i rożnego rodzaju instytucje j stanowiska. Dla obywatela USA pewnie całość jest bardziej zrozumiała. Niemniej jednak, pomimo braku wiedzy jeśli chodzi o policję czy prawo w Stanach, czytało się niezłe. Przerażajace jest jak de facto policjanci byli bandziorami a nawet gorzej - w świetne dnia dilowali, kradli i mordowali. Pozostaje nadzieja ze skorumpowanych policjantów czy polityków zawsze może w końcu spotkać sprawiedliwość.
What a thrilling non-fiction account of the corruption inside the Baltimore police department. A reporter for the Baltimore Sun, Justin Fenton has combined his first hand accounts with extensive research to tell a detailed and horrific story of the police becoming the criminals.
Good book, but not always written in the most compelling way. I begrudgingly respect that the reporter didn't try to write this like he was fishing for a movie deal.
On entre dans un univers auquel je ne m’attendais pas du tout !!
D’abord, il faut aimer les romans qui s’apparentent aux documentaires. Le ton employé est neutre du début à la fin. Il y a de nombreux lieux et plusieurs personnes mentionnées ici et là. On parle de statistiques, on compare Baltimore et sa culture avec d’autres éléments issus des classes moyennes / pauvres des États-Unis. Les phrases et les paragraphes sont plutôt longs, élaborés et structurés de manière à ajouter du poids aux recherches qui ont été faites par l’auteur.
ET J’AI ADORÉ.
C’est juste irréaliste. C’est poignant aussi. Et carrément aberrant/dégueulasse de constater tous ces abus de pouvoir qui ont eu lieu dans les 15 dernières années. On plonge dans la culture policière américaine avec maints détails et on en ressort avec des émotions fortes et des réflexions plutôt intéressantes sur le système de justice. Pas que l’auteur nous incite à nous poser des questions, non. Ce sont plutôt les témoignages des victimes et de tous ces hommes incarcérés / profilés / jugés injustement qui portent à réfléchir. Et de savoir que tout ça s’est passé il y a peu de temps, ouffff.
Les thèmes abordés sont intéressants et ne servent pas nécessairement le sensationnalisme. Violence, racisme, extorsion, profilage, abus de pouvoir, valeurs, culture américaine, boys club, pauvreté, justice, etc. On parcours des enquêtes avec des victimes qui sont encore aux prises avec des traumatismes. On questionne aussi la manière d’avoir voulu gérer une ville à partir de quotas. On questionne cette hiérarchie au sein de la police et la culture qui s’y développait (aka se développe encore) quant au silence entre les rangs pour protéger les coéquipiers au détriment des citoyens.
Ce roman ne se veut pas moralisateur. Il ne se veut pas non plus un outil de recherche ni être porteur de tous les problèmes d’une société. Mais il est juste, crédible et intéressant.
Les chapitres sont super bien construits et une fois qu’on comprend la manière dont sera racontée « l’histoire », on plonge tête première et on se dit toujours « juste un dernier chapitre ».
If you don't live in Baltimore, you might be forgiven for thinking that "The Wire" tells you everything you need to know about the city.
If you do live in or near Baltimore, you know that the stories that "The Wire" tells hew close to actual events but aren't non-fiction, as they're meant to entertain and engage the viewer. Yeah, there's an aura of truth to the show, but it comes across as "inspired by" rather than "based on actual events."
Now comes Justin Fenton with "We Own This City." And I'm reminded that sometimes truth is indeed stranger than fiction.
Fenton is a reporter for the Baltimore Sun, and he's had a front-row seat for the tragedies played out on the streets of Baltimore. He reported on the uprising after the death of Freddie Gray in police custody; his byline appeared on stories about some of the arrests and trials recounted in the book; and he's acquainted with plenty of the principals of the events in the book and with the culture in the city and in the infrastructure of the police department that made those events possible, if not inevitable.
Wayne Jenkins and his coterie of Gun Trace Task Force plainclothes officers took guns off the streets, sure, and they arrested more than their share of "bad guys with guns," in the words of former Police Commissioner Frederick Bealefeld, but in the process they planted evidence, conducted unlawful searches, seizures, and surveillance, stole money and drugs rather than submitting them as evidence from crime scenes, and generally rode roughshod over the rule of law and the rights of any citizen who had the misfortune to come in contact with them.
The corruption went on for years, and yeah, it's bad on the face of it -- theft, dishonesty, disregard for lawful procedures that would have respected the rights of those arrested and helped protect the safety of local residents -- but when this behavior is factored into the legal proceedings that followed the arrests GTTF made, it's disastrous. When the criminal organization (that's what it was, make no mistake) was finally dismantled through good police work and competent and legal investigations by federal authorities, the officers involved were no longer considered credible witnesses against those they'd arrested, and the state's attorney's office had to expend its limited resources reviewing hundreds of case files and trial transcripts in order to unearth any convictions that were called into question by the outcome of the GTTF investigations. Some dangerous people who'd done terrible things were released from prisons back into the community or had to be retried.
But don't get me wrong; that wasn't always bad. At least two men were justly released -- imprisoned after their arrest on fraudulent drug charges led to tragedy for a Baltimore family, they had spent years in federal prisons before the GTTF's fall resulted in a review of their convictions. That's just one example of justice finally being done; sadly, lives and livelihoods were ruined and families broken and careers ended because of people who were supposed to get criminals off the streets just straight-up BEING criminals on the streets.
How could this happen? Well, the higher-ups were very pleased with the results GTTF got, tons of illegal guns taken off the streets, plenty of arrests, quantities of drugs that would never make it to market. It was probably pretty easy to look at the WHAT without ever considering the HOW. Plus, put people in positions of power and they'll do bad stuff; it has been ever thus. It's probably also pretty easy not to seek out bad behavior, as long as it doesn't come to the attention of anybody who might be able to do anything about it.
Which of course it eventually did. The GTTF guys got caught by chance; a federal investigation began; and the gang was busted. Most of them are currently doing time, and those who aren't in prison are at least not cops anymore. The worst, saddest bit of this, though, is a family who lost a husband and a father, under circumstances that remain mysterious, a death that remains an unsolved homicide -- at least in the files of BPD.
I was already familiar with a lot of the stories that Fenton recounts here because I'm a Baltimore Sun subscriber who reads the paper every morning while I drink my coffee. I did a lot of "oh, yeah, I remember that" while reading the book; now I know a lot of what was going on in the background of those reported events. The author does an excellent job of telling a pretty convoluted tale in a linear fashion, and there's plenty of input from people directly involved, both from trial transcripts and from interviews with Fenton. It makes what could have been a mainly a story of bureaucracy gone wrong into stories of people and a city and the destructive potential of power.
Final note: If you look at the jacket copy and go "big deal, robbing criminals, so what"...nope. That's not how this works. First of all, nobody's a criminal til they're proven guilty. Secondly, that proof has to come in a fair trial, to which every citizen -- no matter how bad their alleged behavior might be -- has a right. Thirdly, if you start thinking that some people don't deserve the presumption of innocence and a fair trial at state expense, well, you're heading down the road toward some animals being more equal than others. And Orwell would not be the least bit shocked.
RIP Sean Suiter, Freddie Gray, Kendal Fenwick, and all those lost to violence and drugs in a city that never stops bleeding.