Part 3.
My appointment as a Special Officer in the RCMP was a source of great amusement to my family and friends until I threatened to arrest them by virtue of the powers vested in me!
For the next several years every now and again I would get a call
from the RCMP to request that I come out to the airport, or to the
RCMP holding cells which were located below the main post office on
S. Railway St in Regina, Saskatchewan. For the most part it only took the
appearance of the doctor at the scene to help resolve it.
Such a request resulted in a visit to the airport one
night when a small aircraft made an unscheduled landing at the Regina
Flying Club, where I was greeted by several RCMP officers. When I
got to the airport the accused had already been questioned and denied
any contraband items including drugs. I was invited into the interrogation.
"Let's go over this again," the RCMP officer said, "you
are from Regina and you were down in Minot, North Dakota for a few
days holiday, and you arrived here tonight without a flight plan and
tried to land unnoticed at the Regina flying club right next to the airport?"
"Yeah, that's about it." The scruffy looking little pilot said.
"And you brought nothing back with you? You were just
on holiday."
"No sir,"
"So why the late-night flight with no flight plan?"
asked the officer.
"I had to come back in a hurry. I had a phone call that
my wife was sick so I thought I'd better get home as soon as possible."
"We got the doctor here to check you over," the officer said.
The prisoner glanced over at my direction,"
"Hi, Doc," he said as though delighted to see a friend.
"Hi, I am Dr. Smith, I do some work for the RCMP, in
fact I'm a special constable in the force and I want you to realize that."
"I'm sure glad there's a doctor here, it makes me feel a
lot safer," he grinned.
You dumb bastard I thought, I've just told you I'm on
the other side. Aloud I reiterated, "You understand that I am an RCMP
special constable as well as being the doctor and I want to make sure
you understand that. I'm not your family doctor."
Judging from the way the grin faded from his face and
was replaced by a look of anxiety I felt he was beginning to get the message.
"I'm OK doc, I don't need no doctor," he bleated.
"I'm here because you're under suspicion of smuggling
drugs into the country," I responded.
"They searched the plane, didn't find anything," he
replied indignantly.
"Yes, but to put it bluntly they think you may have
swallowed the evidence or stuck it up your ass. In either event,
there's only one way it can come out and you know as well as I do
what that is. So the suggestion is that I do a rectal examination
and if necessary a sigmoidoscopy."
"What the hell is that?" He asked anxiously.
"It's sticking a tube up your bum and looking to see if
there are any condoms up there that may be full of heroin or
something like that," I explained.
"There's no way I'm having anyone sticking a tube up my
bum. You can't make me." He said challengingly.
"No we can't," I admitted.
The officer in charge intervened, "that's OK doc, if he
won't consent to that, we'll just hold him here in one of our holding
cells at the post office for a few days until all of his bowel
contents are emptied right under our supervision and then scrutinized
so carefully that a grain of sand couldn't pass through unnoticed."
And that's exactly what happened, after an agonizing
twenty-four hours the prisoner couldn't hold on any longer and passed
a condom full of heroin. Twelve hours later he passed another.
Case solved!
My appointment as a Special Officer in the RCMP was a source of great amusement to my family and friends until I threatened to arrest them by virtue of the powers vested in me!
For the next several years every now and again I would get a call
from the RCMP to request that I come out to the airport, or to the
RCMP holding cells which were located below the main post office on
S. Railway St in Regina, Saskatchewan. For the most part it only took the
appearance of the doctor at the scene to help resolve it.
Such a request resulted in a visit to the airport one
night when a small aircraft made an unscheduled landing at the Regina
Flying Club, where I was greeted by several RCMP officers. When I
got to the airport the accused had already been questioned and denied
any contraband items including drugs. I was invited into the interrogation.
"Let's go over this again," the RCMP officer said, "you
are from Regina and you were down in Minot, North Dakota for a few
days holiday, and you arrived here tonight without a flight plan and
tried to land unnoticed at the Regina flying club right next to the airport?"
"Yeah, that's about it." The scruffy looking little pilot said.
"And you brought nothing back with you? You were just
on holiday."
"No sir,"
"So why the late-night flight with no flight plan?"
asked the officer.
"I had to come back in a hurry. I had a phone call that
my wife was sick so I thought I'd better get home as soon as possible."
"We got the doctor here to check you over," the officer said.
The prisoner glanced over at my direction,"
"Hi, Doc," he said as though delighted to see a friend.
"Hi, I am Dr. Smith, I do some work for the RCMP, in
fact I'm a special constable in the force and I want you to realize that."
"I'm sure glad there's a doctor here, it makes me feel a
lot safer," he grinned.
You dumb bastard I thought, I've just told you I'm on
the other side. Aloud I reiterated, "You understand that I am an RCMP
special constable as well as being the doctor and I want to make sure
you understand that. I'm not your family doctor."
Judging from the way the grin faded from his face and
was replaced by a look of anxiety I felt he was beginning to get the message.
"I'm OK doc, I don't need no doctor," he bleated.
"I'm here because you're under suspicion of smuggling
drugs into the country," I responded.
"They searched the plane, didn't find anything," he
replied indignantly.
"Yes, but to put it bluntly they think you may have
swallowed the evidence or stuck it up your ass. In either event,
there's only one way it can come out and you know as well as I do
what that is. So the suggestion is that I do a rectal examination
and if necessary a sigmoidoscopy."
"What the hell is that?" He asked anxiously.
"It's sticking a tube up your bum and looking to see if
there are any condoms up there that may be full of heroin or
something like that," I explained.
"There's no way I'm having anyone sticking a tube up my
bum. You can't make me." He said challengingly.
"No we can't," I admitted.
The officer in charge intervened, "that's OK doc, if he
won't consent to that, we'll just hold him here in one of our holding
cells at the post office for a few days until all of his bowel
contents are emptied right under our supervision and then scrutinized
so carefully that a grain of sand couldn't pass through unnoticed."
And that's exactly what happened, after an agonizing
twenty-four hours the prisoner couldn't hold on any longer and passed
a condom full of heroin. Twelve hours later he passed another.
Case solved!
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