Come October 31, Los Angeles Police Department Chief William Bratton will be like the marshal in the final act of one of those old Westerns.
Having ridden in some time ago to clean up the town, his work is now finished. The grateful townsfolk beg him to stay on and put down some roots, but he’ll have none of it. Instead he’ll hang up his star and his shootin’ iron, pack his carpet bag, and ride off with is girl into the, well, the sunrise, actually, if we’re going to be precise about things.
Bratton is headed back to New York, where he’ll take what we may presume to be a highly remunerative position in a private security company headed by an old crony. (One wonders how on earth he managed to scrape by on the $320,000 he was making as chief of police.) And as he leaves town, he will see his many admirers thronging to strew rose petals in his path, for the town he was hired to tame truly has been transformed. If that transformation hasn’t been entirely due to his efforts, well, why not let the myth survive at least until the credits roll?
When Bratton came to the LAPD in 2002, the department had endured ten years under two ineffectual police chiefs, Willie Williams and Bernard Parks. I recall those days as one recalls a terrible illness: you remember feeling bad, but once health is restored, some trick of the mind prevents you from remembering just how truly bad off you were. The department had suffered through the Rampart corruption scandal and, under the terms of a consent decree, had been placed under the supervision of a federal judge. Crime was rising, morale was plummeting, and officers were fleeing the job far more quickly than their replacements could be hired and trained.
I was an early advocate for appointing Bratton to head the department. It seemed to me at the time that only he had the necessary combination of experience and freedom from the taint that had attached itself to those from within the LAPD who aspired to the position. In the world of law enforcement, he was arguably the only all-star. And indeed, the dismal trends of the Parks years were reversed from virtually the moment Bratton was hired. The LAPD stopped hemorrhaging officers and crime began to trend lower, slowly at first and then dramatically. In 2002, the city saw 647 homicides; by 2008 the number was 381. And if trends continue to hold, the number should be even lower this year. As of last week the LAPD had investigated 184 murders since January 1, down 19 percent from the same period last year.
So he has earned his admirers, but as anyone who has followed his career will tell you, William Bratton has no greater admirer than William Bratton himself. Which brings us to the curious timing of his departure, coming as it does only two years into his second five-year term as chief. When Bratton came to Los Angeles, a friend in the NYPD described him as the P.T. Barnum of law enforcement, a handle that seems just as apt today as it did then. Like Barnum, Bratton knows how to put on a show, and also like Barnum, he knows to leave the audience wanting more as he exits the stage.