Investigating: The Blonde and the Thin Blue Line
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I was coming out of an abusive marriage. Actually, I was all the way out, but the strings of abuse still tugged at my in-need-of-repair psyche. “Oh, a change is gonna do me good.” That lyric from an Elton John song played over and over in my mind. Change was the key, and I began the process.
I had my long dark hair cut. I became a blonde with a short and naturally curly bob that suited my small face. I felt free to do drastic things. The shackles were gone. Next I applied for a new job in a different field. I had been a social worker, and now I was applying to be a Fraud Investigator with a large firm. Go figure; they hired me.
I learned quickly that I was not only the first female Investigator they had hired at the time, but I was surrounded by guys who had been cops or adult probation officers. They were big, sturdy-looking, and muscular. These guys just oozed the appearance of don’t f**k with me. I knew I had to prove myself. The guys saw me as some ornament and made sexual innuendos which I played passed. I was not about to be anybody’s ornament ever again. I went into training, started investigating, and within a year I was beating their stats for finding fraud.
In my fourth year there, I was chosen to head a special investigation of a mega-corporation. I won’t go into specifics here. Just let me say that I was good at finding threads that spidered into hundreds of leads. I had a partner, one of the guys, but I was the lead and ran with it. He mostly went along with whatever I suggested and part of me suspected that he wanted me to fail. After all, I was a woman. Aside from the mountains of paperwork involved, he did little to aid in the investigation. He was one of them, a former cop.
There were times when the firm sent out emails saying there would be a beer fest at a high-end restaurant/lounge for all Investigators. After grueling hours on the road, it was usually a good way to unwind with shared stories and not a little bit of exaggeration. So one evening after being in the field investigating all day, I went to the Ugly Ram and joined the guys. Wine was and is my drink of choice, but pitchers of beer had been bought when I arrived, and ‘my money was no good,’ they said.
It was a blast! We swapped stories, and one of the guys told us about a goat at a farm where he had been investigating. Seems the goat had fallen in love with his leg. He couldn’t shake it off till the farmer rescued him and was subsequently charged with fraud anyway. It went on like that and after looking at my watch, I decided I needed to get home. Long day ahead of me. My boss was there and offered to walk me to my car. I tried to assure him that I was fine to drive home, and then I gave into his insistence.
We got to my car in the dark parking lot, and click, click, I unlocked the doors. Without hesitation he got in the passenger side. “Hey, I’m good to drive, really,” I smiled, as I got into the car. In a split second, he lifted me over the gears, put me on his lap and began groping. His cop-strength was peaking, and copping was what he was doing. I disarmed him with laughter and told him I really had to get home.
Other than laughing in those preceding hours, I couldn’t think of one signal I had given that would have warranted this accosting. “Okay, Babe, okay,” he said sourly and lifted me again, putting me back in the driver’s seat. I hated him from that day forward and kept my distance. Looking at him made my stomach churn and twist. I never went back to the Ugly Ram with the guys. But I had that special investigation and needed to focus. I could have turned him in for sexual harassment, but I didn’t. A part of me knew it would be useless against the Thin Blue Line that stained them inside their jock straps.
My investigation into the mega-corporation was gaining strong momentum. I had found a thread that could have brought the entire house down. Working late one evening and alone in the office, I placed a call to the head of the Special Investigations Unit who was at the other end of the state. I told him what I had found and he was ecstatic! This was the first investigation for this unit and I had nailed it. I went home and couldn’t sleep that night. I was riding a high.
The next morning I was called into the local HQ office. At the conference table were the head of the local HQ and my boss, the groper. “How dare you call the head of the Unit? Who do you think you are?” They went at me like that for thirty minutes. In my head I vowed not to cry. They were relentless. Kudos for me had come from the head of the Unit to them. Of course, that would not be tolerated. I had no Thin Blue Line. But the truth was that I had hit a nerve because what I had found in fraud lead all the way to a Congressman. “Back off and back off now!” That was what they said. The air left my lungs with the punch of their words. Within months, I left and slammed the door tight. It had all been so futile. The head of the Special Investigative Unit retired early in disgust.
Now, some years later, this same mega-corporation I had investigated is frequently in the news for doing exactly what I found. Oh yeah, the papers are all over it, several billion dollars later. But I was never part of that Thin Blue Line. Bastards they were, all of them. Not all cops are like that, at least I hope. When I watch these cop shows now with lead female investigators, I think to myself, “Yeah, right. Sure.”
Investigating: The Blonde and the Thin Blue Line,
Someone once told me, “Used-to-be’s don’t count.” I have pondered this often and find that they do count. We are the sum of our life experiences.
I used to be an English and Speech teacher. There will always be a part of me that wants to teach. I used to be an Investigator, first for the government and later in my own private investigations business.
I will always probe beneath the surface of issues and people, looking for the gem-like quality hidden in the text of words and personae. Today I am a writer and all of the used-to-be’s are part of the continuum of this journey.
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Tags: abusive marriage, adult probation, beer fest, Cher Duncombe, female investigator, fraud investigator, grueling hours, mega corporation, new job, one of the guys, probation officers, sexual innuendos, shackles, thin blue line
WOW! Cher, I don’t think I would have been as strong as you during that whole process. I worked at the front of a paint store where there was a decorating section. I was constantly harassed by one of the paint workers. I didn’t say anything to the owner for a long time but when home disgusted nearly everyday. I was in my early 20′s and too afraid to stand-up for myself then.
Why are some men like this? And it’s a shame they didn’t listen to you about the fraud with the big corporation.
Katy, not all men are like this but sometimes those with authority do take advantage and put women in awkward, if not degrading situations. I can understand why you were reluctant to tell your boss. For me the consulation is knowing that the corporation I investigated will finally be outed for wrongful business practices. And those who told me to ‘back off ‘ should hang their heads in shame.
What a compelling story!! I always knew you kicked serious butt, and could hang with the best of them, but this is another level! You are a woman of many talents, no doubt.
So, when is your memoir going to come out? I want on the waitlist for that!
Oh dear Jen, from one butt-kicker to another, I seriously appreciate your compliment. A memoir? No one would believe it!
Another great story Cher. Just finished writing work articles and read this, it totally cleared my mind and took me into that world you described. It sounds like it was a great job apart from the harassment, it’s crap you had to suffer because of their problems. And you are right, I hope they feel the guilt of telling you to back off, but somehow I doubt it, some people never do and that’s something they have to live with but it’ll get to them sooner or later.
Garry, apart from the nonsense I described here, this was the best career I ever had. It was a natural high, exciting and exhilerating. They actually gave me an award for this investigation, but it seemed to fly in the face of reality. Still, I have it hanging on my office wall and those who didn’t play right can kiss my Irish!
Yeah, what Garry said! *claps*
Elisa, you are too cute for words! Thanks so much.
I have my moments! Few and far between, but I still have them.
Cher,
Could you have had a life more richly seeded with incidents to later express so creatively? Somehow I doubt it.
The inhumanity of men to women is an appalling scar on our society and our lives. At least you have taken much of this and spun it into golden words that inform and inspire.
So sorry about the shoddy treatment. As Lord Acton said: “Power corrupts.” Too bad more swinging Richards don’t get it that injustice anywhere to anyone is a threat to justice everywhere for everyone.
As usual, superb writing!
Always,
Larry
Dear Larry,
You just have me laughing at the “swinging Richards” phrase! There are too many of them hanging around doing little more than catching barflys instead of thieves. Anyway, overall it was a good experience. Women have to deal with that sort of treatment all the time. The caveat is that we need to choose our battles and win whenever we can. There are some that are impossible to win, so the next best move is to extricate yourself from that situation. And so I did.
Thanks so much for your comment, my friend.
Wow -- you’re an incredibly strong person, Cher! I think the fact that you went into the fray where millions never do speaks volumes.