Skip to main contentSweet.
That's about the only way to describe the gig that Lt. Gabe Kalmanek, a veteran of the Portland Police Bureau, has going.
Kalmanek is caught up in the brewing tempest over the beating of a man outside a strip club by two off-duty cops earlier this year. While news of the thumping shook up the cop shop, what really has officers reaching for their Xanax is the appearance of a cover-up. And Kalmanek, who "investigated" the strip-club stomping, is at the center of it all.
On April 30, Kalmanek went before a grand jury to answer a number of questions about his role. Why, for example, did he tell his precinct commander that the victim had sustained only a bloody nose, when in fact the injuries were far worse? Why, for example, did he instruct officers not to write up incident reports about the assault?
The grand jury didn't get sufficient answers, which was why on May 1, it issued a letter condemning the Police Bureau's handling of the case.
That same day, in what must have been a complete coincidence, Kalmanek filed a disability claim with the Portland Fire and Police Disability and Retirement Fund. He said he needed some time off because of a flare-up of an injury sustained in--get this--1997.
Should the Nose be so cynical? Should he not so quickly assume that Kalmanek has ginned up an excuse to take time off and get paid while he prepares his defense?
The Nose had his minions pose this question to Julie Leonard, the able assistant administrator of the disability fund. "It is appropriate to be cynical," she said, "and we share that cynicism. While we don't jump to the conclusion that a claim is fake, we do have concern when there is a question of timing."
Comforting words, until one looks at the record. Fact is, the disability fund--hereafter known as the Honeypot--has for years been a candy-coated safety net for cops seeking to escape punishment for their sins.
It proved a sweet refuge nearly three years ago for Sgt. Richard Barton, who faced the possibility of termination because of his alleged involvement in a bogus overtime scam. Within days of learning he might lose his job, Barton filed a stress-related disability claim stemming from an event that--get this--had occurred eight years earlier. The Honeypot granted the claim, and to this day, Barton doesn't work but receives a paycheck.
It was also a sugary oasis for Tim Sommerville, who faced allegations of questionable behavior by fellow officers earlier this year. He filed a disability claim in January of this year, stemming from an event that took place--get this--in 1992. His claim was granted, and he has been out of work and getting a paycheck ever since.
Now, some might claim that the Nose ought to be concerning himself instead with low voter turnout, ongoing strife in the Middle East, an economy that is still stuck in second gear and the ongoing threat that some bin Laden zealot will move into an apartment complex with a suitcase full of potassium chloride, a hydrometer and a large Pyrex container. Perhaps that's true. At the same time, it's of legitimate concern when bad cops game a system and undermine the credibility of the entire police force.
Of course, the Nose could just be jealous.
WWeek 2015