DEEP NIGHT SHIFT, DALLAS POLICE

AM12:00

About 40 uniformed officers gather in a classroom at the Northeast Substation of the Dallas Police Department on Northwest Highway at Audelia. They are rookies. Most appear to be under 30. Our tour guides are officers Lacie Darnell, 26, one of two females in the room, and Scot Ansley, 30. A sergeant takes roll call and warns, “The call load is crazy.” There was a drug-related shooting at an East Dallas apartment complex. “We expect some sort of retaliation.” Dallas is a few days away from implementing new open carry gun laws, which will allow citizens to openly carry holstered handguns. “Watch the video,” the sergeant says, directing the officers to an informational video on the police website. They take up a collection to buy a Christmas present for Cecelia the custodian.

AM12:15

Darnell and Ansley check their squad car for damages incurred during previous the shift. They stop at their respective personal vehicles to grab gear — gas mask, rain jacket, rain hat, for instance. “I hate the rain hat,” Ansley says. “It looks dumb.”

AM12:23

They head north on Audelia toward their assigned patrol area, sector 105, beat 213, which includes what they call “5 Points,” also known as Vickery Meadow. The assigned section is like home base, but they travel all over the subdivision — which includes Lake Highlands, East Dallas and Preston Hollow — answering calls as needed.

AM12:24

There is a non-emergency disturbance near Casa View — yelling and a loud bang, so they pop a U-turn.

AM12:26

Darnell says she had a pretty rough childhood. “I wanted to do something no one else in my family could or would do,” she says. She majored in criminal justice at University of North Texas.

AM12:29

The caller, a middle-aged woman with dark hair pinned atop her head, answers the door. The noises came from the neighbors, she says, pointing. Next door, a man, woman and Doberman pinscher materialize from the shadows. The man says he’s carrying a gun and raises his arms so Ansley can pat him down. He shows his Concealed Handgun License. Darnell scratches the dog’s head. The officers separate the couple and hear their stories, which coalesce. Back in the car, Darnell says, “There’s nothing, really, that we can do. We had to make sure there was

AM

1:15

no family violence, because we would have had to make an arrest.” But both parties assured officers the fighting was over, that the loud noise was simply a truck door slamming.

AM1:04

Darnell lives in North Dallas and has always been a night owl, she says. She can’t imagine patrolling days, with all the traffic. Ansley spent a year on days and wanted to come back to nights. “I like the sense of camaraderie. There are more people my age range. I just like it,” he says. They get off at 8 a.m., unless they are in the middle of something and have to work later. Darnell kind of enjoys shows like “Law and Order.” Ansley says he thinks all those cop shows are ridiculous. Darnell says she especially likes “SVU.” “I might have named my dog Benson,” she adds, smirking.

Darnell and Ansley respond to a non-urgent call that came in 90 minutes earlier. A woman who lives on Fair Oaks says someone is shining bright lights into her front window. They peruse the perimeters of the residence in question, a spacious two-story abode with big bay windows — it sits mid-street, at the top of a hill, facing a stop sign and three-way intersection. Because it’s late, Darnell calls the complaintant in lieu of knocking. But the caller wants the officers to come inside — she thinks she saw a shadow in the backyard. Wearing a bathrobe and slippers, she tells Ansley and Darnell she doesn’t sleep much. Spends most nights sitting on her upstairs deck, smoking. She says she has cancer. Darnell hears the woman’s concerns about the cars driving up and down the street that intersects her property, and their god-awful lights. Ansley suggests the blackout curtains he installed in his own home. They help him sleep during daylight hours, he offers. The woman snaps at him. “I do not want blackout curtains! I want people to stop shining their lights in here.” Ansley inches backward, letting his partner reclaim the conversation. “OK, ma’am, he is just trying to offer a suggestion,” Darnell says. “Because there isn’t anything we can do right now.” The woman relaxes. They remind her that her neighborhood association has its own paid patrolman who is parked right up the street.