True Crime, Dec. 12, 2007 

Police Seeking Zombie-Methmouth-Werewolf

Looking for an excuse not to pick up jogging? This guy is out in the world somewhere. Put in another light, if you are looking for a reason to pick up jogging, an ability to run quickly could come in very handy—as could a little judo, archery and maybe some light artillery training—should you happen to spy this potted-plant of a hairdo creeping up in your peripheral vision.

Boise Police say the suspect inspiring this sketch attacked a woman jogger on a path near the intersection of Maple Grove and Hackamore at approximately 4:50 p.m. on November 30. Though the attacker flashed what police are describing as an "edged weapon"—which rules out dowels (see: below), if little else—the jogger was able to fight off her assailant, get away and call 9-1-1. She's subsequently been working with BPD investigators to concoct the weirdest, scariest, saddest description of a human misfit you'll read this Christmas season. He's a "very skinny" white male between the ages of 28 and 35, checking in at just under five-and-a-half-feet tall and around 120 to 140 pounds. At the time of the attack, he showed signs of not having shaved, eaten, slept or gone through puberty—read: stubble galore, sunken cheeks, pale complexion, lots of wrinkles on his forehead and around his eyes and a very high-pitched voice. If you find him under your tree—or any other kind of foliage—call Crime Stoppers at 208-343-COPS.

Fear Our Mighty Dowels!

As many of us who grew up during those halcyon days of the action figure known as The Eighties (and, let's be frank, those of us with Y-chromosomes) can attest, a wooden dowel is hands-down, without a doubt, the best light-saber substitute on the market. Unlike those overpriced plastic Pixie Sticks put out by the Star Wars toy establishment, dowels are readily available in almost any garage, they bruise like a mother, nobody cares when they get broken and, oh sweet Jabba, do I look badass holding one. I mean ... did.

That said, even kids know that as weapons go, a wooden stick ranks at the bottom of the threat-chain. All the more reason, then, to marvel at the two hoodlums who managed to pull off a Sith-style stick- up at Stinker Station on Broadway last Thursday just after 10 p.m using nothing more than dowels and handkerchiefs over their faces.

Actually, "nothing more" is a stretch, since one of the two male suspects reportedly alluded to having a handgun—Weak! Stormtrooper wannabes!—before fleeing with an undisclosed amount of register-booty. The suspects are described as both in their early 20s, around 5'10" and a buck-and-a-half, one white and the other possibly Hispanic. Turn these plebes in by calling 208-343-COPS if you know them because this crime is not nearly as cool as they want you to think it is.

Your Tax Dollars Buy Meth

That headline, admittedly, is a bit deceiving. But seriously: The Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives and the Drug Enforcement Agency have bought enough poor-man's cocaine from Alfredo Esparza and his son Lucio over the last six months to keep Canyon County awake through Boxing Day (though trying to explain what Boxing Day is should be sufficient to put the county back to sleep).

Perhaps this is the time to mention that these transactions weren't all for fun—that the Esparzas were the centerpiece of an eight-month investigation culminating in an 80-officer bust in Caldwell last Thursday, that they are allegedly two of the biggest wheels on the Canyon County gang scene, that both face multiple charges carrying between 5 and 40 years prison time, and so on. Now let's get back to the hopped-up shenanigans.

According to court documents quoted in the Idaho Press-Tribune, an ATF informant bought a total of just over seven ounces of methamphetamine for $5,300 from the Esparzas over three occasions in late July and August. In September, the DEA called the ATF's seven ounces and raised it 21 more, dropping $29,200 in three purchases spanning two weeks. In the last purchase, Alfredo allegedly packed a pound of his wares into a car battery and left it in his back yard, where the informant left a paper bag containing $16,000 in one-hundred-dollar bills. In court last week, though, both defendants claimed to have no access to cash, no savings and not enough resources to afford an attorney. Look for them December 13, when the pair will make their first appearance at the federal courthouse in Boise.

Tase Me, Bro

A funny thing about police officers: Rarely, outside of the talkies, will they shoot you just because you ask them to.

Dateline: Idaho Falls, where Erick Lee, 25, gave his consent for a police put-down from IFPD on December 4—judging by the account in the Post Register, he straight-up begged—but all he got in return was a fat load of Vitamin Tase. Lee first crossed paths with IFPD at around 10 p.m., while a gaggle of badges were making their way to a rowdy rager. The constables mustered a valiant 1.5-mile pursuit of Lee's 1988 blue Pontiac sedan, but gave up near the on-ramp to Highway 20. But hark! What's that you say, HQ? Someone just called ... from inside the car? It's a bunch of frightened teenagers who don't want to be in a police chase in a 1988 Pontiac?

In the new, upgraded hunt for Lee, Bonneville County sheriff's deputies and Idaho State Police troopers offered their collective support. The former helped by tossing down a spike strip in the car's path. The second posse helped by ... tossing a spike strip in the car's path, since the first one only flattened three of the car's tires. Finally, after a half-mile of rubberless rolling, the sedan crapped out on a country road. In this stark setting, Lee made his plea for existential closure, but his pursuers chose to punctuate their victory by giving Lee a jolt and a heap of charges, including felony kidnapping and eluding officers. Police handed the teens back to their parents, after charging two of them with resisting arrest.

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