Stop; look rights, get left; then search.

Orville Taylor, Contributor

Coming in from Thompson Town last Tuesday, driving on the newest leg of Highway 2000, I grumbled that being alone on the road, I was going to be the victim of a crime.

Now, it was inevitable that Miss Ivy's last son was about to be robbed. Of course, it was the impending increases in the toll fees that were on my mind, because I had just spent $60 on the May Pen leg and was bracing myself to be held up at tagpoint at the Old Harbour 'prison gate' as my extortion fee gets set to move from $270 to $310. Damn! It was, literally, highway robbery.

Then as if God had come to answer my prayers, flashing blue lights were seen on the horizon and a highly pigmented, late 30s to 40s policeman, with red stripe on his trousers, but none on his shoulder, stopped a car ahead of me.

Four scruffy-looking men were ordered out, including one who looks like he should be arrested for exposing his bad-coloured drawers over his pants, which were so low he could not run from the cops if he had wanted to. A popular female broadcasting icon, who must be au Fae with the recent judgment from the learned Justice Batts, was allowed to pass through unimpeded, and she disappeared on her way into town.

Looking as if he hadn't smiled since his last promotion, the constable snapped at me as if he had learned his public speaking in Doran Dixon and Paul Adams' English classes, and said, "Wind down all window!" and when I indicated that they were all down, he pointed his finger at me and growled, "Don't move!"

Being a black man, clad in full black, in a black dark-tinted car, I knew that my PhD was not on my forehead, and clearly, since 'Corpie' didn't recognise me, I was going to freeze as if I did not have my fingers crossed or we were playing tag or 'stuckie' and I was caught. Strangely, I did not feel violated, although I thought the policeman could have sandpapered his diction. Officer Dibble was looking for crooks, and although on the surface, I could look like one, there was nothing to fear.

Screeching tyres and a minute later, a Japanese car with windows up zipped through the needle-eyed opening and a four-letter word came to mind, though not mouth. I was a trifle annoyed that the suspects got through the blockade, but the gunshots which rang out reminded me how lucky I was that the fugitives did not jump out and continue firing because my mention in this newspaper would have been in another column.

You see, I live in a society in which fleeing felons, with contraband such as goats, sheep and cattle, are routinely removed furtively by men who feel that there is little likelihood that the cops will stop them. Members of the Island Special Constabulary Force have apprehended persons who have stuffed a live steer in a motor vehicle trunk, and that is no bull. Not to mention the millions of dollars worth of illicit drugs.

Indeed, it is the attempted exports of marijuana, apprehended by the narcotics officers, which is just about the only Jamaican product which has increased as the dollar devalued, thus suggesting that my economist friends could definitely use this. Doubtless, the periodic searches by the police bear fruit. Just last week, a massive find of 16 guns in Portland happened while the police were doing exactly that.

Nevertheless, the law is the law is the law. Although Lord Denning pirated the expression and declared, "The law is an ass," judges love it and some attorneys take it to bed. I am not a lawyer, and I have no basis to criticise the judgment of the learned judge. It seems simple enough; the judge ruled that the Road Traffic Act does not automatically give the police the authority to search. If the police cannot follow and uphold the rule of law, the country is a rogue state.

What happened to me last week seems legal and consistent with Batts' ruling, though. On the surface of it, there was a dark vehicle, generally resembling mine, which was involved in suspected illegal activities. The police were apparently acting on intelligence and with a little more vigilance could have caught the outlaws. That seems straightforward to me.

Now, in a situation where the police are in pursuit of criminals, at what point do they tell the citizen who is stopped, the reason for being prevented from moving? Did Constable Blacks violate my rights