Career Death

RAY STERN | SEPTEMBER 28, 2006 | 4:00AM

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Keep your mouth shut, keep your job, keep your career.

That's the lesson officers of the Arizona Department of Public Safety can take from
the case of a rookie who was fired after a supervisor spiked one of his tickets.

Brent Wyatt, an ex-West Virginian with a military haircut and aquiline profile, won
his case against the DPS last month for wrongful termination. He is now richer by
$190,000, minus payments to his lawyer.

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Department of Public Safety

But he can't seem to land another cop job, just as then-Lieutenant Tim Lane promised
he wouldn't be able to do after Wyatt started complaining.

Lane, on the other hand, has since been promoted to commander.

The trial that concluded August 9 exposed the DPS as an agency where ranking
authority is to be unquestioned, honesty is a relative term, and internal affairs
investigations are used — in the words of one retired officer — like "a hammer."
Said the jury's foreman, "Mistakes were made on both sides. But things went south
when he questioned his superiors. Then they went back to cook the performance
evaluations."

Wyatt sees himself as a whistle-blower. But Lane may have honestly — albeit
incorrectly — believed Wyatt's March 2003 traffic stop of a BMW on Interstate 17
was illegal.

The ticket, for speeding and failure to obey a police officer, had "45" marked in the
box for posted speed limit, though the actual speed limit was 65 miles per hour.
Records show Lane believed Wyatt had made the stop based on a black-and-yellow
advisory speed-limit sign. Wyatt maintains he stopped the car because it was going
70-plus and had swerved in its lane while negotiating the Loop 101 ramp to
southbound I-17.

Wyatt said he told the BMW's driver, Michael Slusarek, to get back in his car 12
times before writing him up for "failure to obey." Lane didn't doubt this part of the
story. However, records show Lane thought that charge wouldn't hold up because the
stop was bad. He said the ticket was the first he'd dismissed in his 22-year career.

No evidence turned up in court records and police investigations that Lane or any
other DPS officer knew Slusarek, a local businessman, or his passenger, Phoenix
internal medicine physician Wen Zhong.

At the time, though, Wyatt probably had good reason to question how Lane got the
ticket erased.

He had gotten into an argument with Slusarek, who said he had friends who were
cops. And after Slusarek and Zhong called DPS to complain, one of Wyatt's fellow
officers referred to Slusarek as a "bigwig."

Three days later, the ticket was history.

"I just kept thinking about it," Wyatt said in his subtle Southern twang. "'This is not
right.'"
He felt sure the ticket was valid and the dismissal had been inappropriate.

Months later, when DPS was trying to determine whether Lane had done anything
improper, the agency sought a legal opinion from the Arizona Attorney General's
Office about Wyatt's ticket.

"There is no doubt under the law that the stop was valid," Rick Rice, chief counsel of
the AG's transportation section, stated in a July 2003 memo to the DPS. "As a former
prosecutor, I have handled thousands of speeding citations and have prevailed on
many cases much weaker than this one."

Rice also stated that the failure-to-obey citation "would be well-founded if the stated
purpose was to protect the driver from nearby traffic." Wyatt said he was trying to
protect both himself and the driver from high-speed I-17 traffic.

Suspicious over what had happened, Wyatt began secretly recording his conversations
with supervisors. His sergeant, Leland Youngberg, advised him to keep quiet because
"how well you suck it up and go on determines how far you go with this agency."

Wyatt said he still wanted to talk to Lane about it. A few days later, Youngberg gave
Wyatt his evaluation for the period of December 2002 to February 2003, which was
nearly two months overdue.

The evaluation rated Wyatt "below standard," despite DPS policy that requires late
evaluations to be marked no less than "standard."

Wyatt teamed up with Sergeant Bill Whalen, a veteran officer — now retired — who
sometimes volunteered as an "employee advocate" at the non-union agency.

Whalen, who recently lost a bid for the Arizona Senate to incumbent Jack Harper,
directed Wyatt to ask for supporting documentation for the below-standard grade.

Youngberg told Wyatt he could not view the file. A couple of days later, Youngberg
called Wyatt in for a meeting, which Wyatt again taped. Youngberg said that if Wyatt
told Lane he still thought the Slusarek ticket was valid, it would be his "death
warrant."

Youngberg later told investigators he meant only career death.

Two weeks went by, and Wyatt was served with another late evaluation, also below
standard, and ordered to report for remedial training.

With Whalen's help, Wyatt filed an internal grievance on May 2, 2003, regarding the
two below-standard evaluations. A meeting between Lane, Youngberg and Wyatt
soon followed.

Lane, unaware he was being recorded, said he was unhappy Wyatt had gone to
Whalen instead of staying in the chain of command.

"The last thing you want to do is get crossways with me, okay? That's the last thing
you want to do. Especially if you want to stay here," Lane told Wyatt. "So if you want
to be a law enforcement officer in Arizona, they're going to talk to Lieutenant Tim
Lane. And what am I going to say? You know, you want me to say favorable things."

Wyatt soon filed a second grievance and had his attorney fire off a letter to the
Maricopa County Attorney's office that stated the ticket dismissal represented
"mismanagement, abuse of authority, and possibly a violation of the law."

Lane was furious and tried to fire Wyatt, but DPS Major Destin Coleman told him
there wasn't enough documentation to warrant termination.

Wyatt's probation was extended for about two months — enough time to gather
documentation.

Wyatt, 31, moved to north Phoenix in 1989 from Huntington, West Virginia, to live
with his aunt and uncle. His father was "never in the picture," and his mother had
health problems and "couldn't properly care for me," he said.

After graduating from Barry Goldwater High School in 1993, he worked odd jobs and
tried his hand a couple of times at running his own businesses: an audio-video
installation service — "it was kind of a flop" — and Xtreme Motorsports, which
involved selling cars.

Wyatt said that in the late 1990s he decided to pursue his childhood dream of
becoming a police officer and applied at several agencies.

"It's not the best-paying, but it's the coolest job," he said.

He began working for the DPS in early 2002, but got off to a rocky start and had his
field training extended for two weeks. Supervisors pegged him as somebody who
seemed to have an excuse for every mistake he made.

But he worked through his issues, ended his field training, and was allowed to begin
patrolling solo. His overall work was rated standard from February 2002 until the
evaluation he received in April 2003.

From there, his career began unraveling.

As testimony during the trial showed, Wyatt was assigned to work with an officer
who had just six months more experience, and who was told to scrutinize Wyatt's
performance.

One day, the officer saw Wyatt and Wyatt's realtor at a convenience store. Wyatt told
the officer he had been waiting for him at the Deer Valley station, as required, then
left to get a soda and meet quickly with his realtor to sign paperwork for a house he
had sold.

The officer said Wyatt told him he had gone inside the office.

But the office alarm had not been deactivated to allow entrance.

Soon an internal affairs investigation was launched. Wyatt told investigators he

sometimes waited outside the office in his car, and must have been wrong about going
inside.

Internal affairs concluded that Wyatt had been dishonest.

At about the same time, Sergeant Youngberg staked out Wyatt's north Phoenix home
to make sure Wyatt was starting work on time, DPS records show.

Wyatt said he spotted Youngberg doing surveillance on him and confronted him.
Youngberg said he was just "checking on his [Wyatt's] welfare."

Another time, IA investigator Bill Cramer drove out to Wyatt's home at 12:30 a.m.
Astonishingly, the DPS later claimed Cramer was trying to determine if Wyatt had
gone on vacation as he said he had. Questions submitted to the court by a juror carry
an incredulous tone about the incident: "1). Why did Investigator go to Wyatts [sic]
house @ 0030 to see if he was home. At 0030 aren't lights off, house quiet, neighbors
the same? 2). How can one determine @ this time whether someone is home (w/out
knocking on door — etc. . .?) (Is investigator going to testify?)"
The jury foreman, who agreed to be identified as such but did not want his name used,
said this "non-standard" investigation worried jurors.

"You can't go staking out people's homes at night," he said, noting that such actions
were done at taxpayer expense.

But the 12:30 a.m. trip was fruitful for Cramer: He discovered Wyatt's personal car
had an expired dealer plate. Wyatt explained he had the plate because of his old
business, and did not know the plate was expired. A quick call to the Motor Vehicle
Division, and the plate was valid again. Still, there was consternation at the DPS that
Wyatt used the plate, which cost less than regular vehicle registration, in the first
place.

Another internal affairs investigation regarding the plate soon nailed Wyatt for
conduct unbecoming an officer.

Whalen sat in on the investigations and said supervisors were abusive toward Wyatt.

"I've been in investigations for 25 years," Whalen said. "I know the proper procedures
[for internal affairs]. They did not follow proper procedures."
Lane then assigned Wyatt to the squad of Sergeant Dave Hechler, who retired from
the DPS in December 2003 after 34 years in law enforcement. Hechler ordered Wyatt
to ride with Officer Mike Ransom, whom he told to judge Wyatt fairly.

"Mike and I would wonder what's going on," Hechler said. He remembers thinking,
"'They're really fucking this guy over. This is a witch hunt.'"

Ransom gave Wyatt standard ratings for two months. The last standard evaluation
should have automatically taken Wyatt off probation, according to DPS rules.

But the evaluation disappeared after Ransom turned it in to Lane's office.

At his deposition in May 2005, Lane said he never saw the evaluation and never
signed it.

A couple of weeks after the deposition, the evaluation — which had been signed by
Lane, after all — was entered into the DPS system by a clerk. The computer marked
Wyatt's status as "off probation." By the time the evaluation was found as part of the
trial discovery process, it had already been almost two years since Wyatt was fired.

Ransom later told investigators he was surprised to see a date of August 28 next to
Lane's signature on the evaluation, since he hadn't turned it in until August 30. The
missing-then-found evaluation "couldn't have been a coincidence," said the jury
foreman.

Internal affairs later exonerated Lane of any wrongdoing following a passed

polygraph test in which he was asked whether he "deliberately lied" during his
deposition.

Lane did not return phone calls from New Times.

State law requires an agency that loses more than $150,000 in a lawsuit to write a plan
that would prevent such a loss in the future. A draft of the plan DPS came up with is
awaiting final approval, said Rick Knight, spokesman for the agency.

One thing the plan requires is for Lane and all other DPS command and manager-level
employees to attend an eight-hour training session on how to handle grievances,
performance management, and employee evaluations. Even agency director Roger
Vanderpool will take the class, Knight said.

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The DPS changed another policy since Wyatt made his tapes: As of July 2004, it
prohibits employees from covertly recording other employees except for official
department investigations.

The regulation "stemmed from a separate incident," Knight maintained. "I've been
advised it has nothing to do with the Wyatt case."

As for Wyatt, he asked for his job back in 2005, at the time his last standard
evaluation was finally located. He asked again last month following his court victory.
He's still unemployed.

"I think DPS on the whole is a good agency," he said. "They've got some major
management issues."

Fired state trooper fights to get his job

back
Posted: Mar 28, 2017 9:43 PM MSTUpdated: Mar 29, 2017 12:11 AM MST

By Nicole Crites
CONNECT

Simon Wade said he sent a letter to his superiors about the problems at DPS but
ended up getting fired. (Source: 3TV/CBS 5)

PHOENIX (3TV/CBS 5) -
A fired Department of Public Safety trooper who sued for whistleblower protection just
lost his appeal to get his job back on Tuesday.

He says this isn’t over and it's just a small window into the pervasive problems plaguing
DPS.

DPS has a policy encouraging employees to come forward anytime something's wrong.

The slogan goes, "See something. Say something. Report it."

And that's just what Simon Wade did.

He said when his chain of command told him "leave it alone," he turned in an 18-page
letter and instead of the department fully investigating his claims, they fired him.

"You put on your vest, your gun, and your badge on every morning and you go to work,"
Wade said.

Wade, a Former DPS bomb tech, said no training can prepare troopers for the drama
and petty politics the department's dealing with right now.

"These guys are working the road, and they're more worried about what's happening in
the office. That’s a huge concern," Wade said.

He’d be the first to admit that his lengthy letter was riddled with grammatical errors and
typos but said he drafted it as a passionate plea and heads up for the department’s
professional standards unit.

He hoped someone would take a closer look, investigate and vet the good-faith claims
and observations he considered to be serious safety and policy violations.

“I have seen leadership failures, malfeasance, theft and operational decisions that
befuddle me,” Wade said.

The claims varied, for example, from “nasty politics and backstabbing” to a sergeant
misusing federal RICO funds in overtime off-duty pay to being reckless with explosive
detonations on the range.

"Some of these situations we’re talking about have the potential of seriously injuring or
killing someone and putting our agency and the state at great liability,” Wade said.

DPS deputy director Heston Silbert ordered a quality assurance audit of the claims in
Wade's letter.
"Everything he wrote was taken seriously," Silbert said.

And while the Quality Assurance Audit resulted in some policy changes and safety
protocol briefings and updates, the most serious action taken from Wade’s letter was a
criminal inquiry aimed at Wade himself.

"It completely turned on me. I was the target," Wade said.

It had to do with a Marine bomb disposal vehicle.

Wade mentioned in his letter how he helped DPS get a nearly quarter-million-dollar total
containment vessel that was being retired from the Marines.

Silbert ordered a criminal inquiry into whether there was anything illegal about the
acquisition.

A YouTube clip from the Department of Defense five years ago shows Wade being
interviewed with the then-DPS bomb sergeant explaining how the program worked.

Still, Wade, a 20-year combat Marine veteran and Bronze Star recipient, had to turn in
his gun, his badge and got sent home on administrative leave for about a month while
investigators sorted it out.

He said he was never told why he was being sent home, even after asking 13 times.

“If I grounded my young child and send them to their room, I tell them why,” he said.

Meantime, Wade said his bomb squad colleagues continued rooting for him and even
told him of other serious safety problems continuing despite the unit allegedly being
under the microscope.

He filed an emergency grievance with a photo of an improvised explosive device that

was, for some reason, taken into evidence and stored at DPS, putting unknowing
workers and civilians at risk.

"I told them, 'There is a fully functional bomb right next to your building right now!' And
they did nothing but add my emergency grievance to the ongoing investigation of the
claims in my letter,” Wade said.

"Mr. Wade made dishonest statements that were very clear in his memo that
immediately warranted investigation, irrespective of anything else we found,” Silbert
said.
Wade said he was put in a position where he felt he had to lie about a new bomb K-9
team being certified when they weren't.

In his letter, he wrote he “had to completely lie to a Commander with Chandler Police
Department we had an explosive detection K-9.”

Silbert said that admission demanded an investigation as honesty is the cornerstone of

law enforcement.

Wade said he was never asked about the K-9’s certification and never actually lied, that
he simply felt by not letting the commander know the team wasn’t certified was a lie of
omission.

It took at least two follow-up Professional Standards Unit (PSU) interviews to clear that
up.

Silbert said ultimately, that lie about a lie, coupled with other unsubstantiated claims
against a fellow officer of possible criminal conduct, resulted in Wade getting fired in
September for dishonesty, conduct adverse and incompetence.

Two other troopers testified on Wade's behalf, corroborating some of his claims of
serious safety violations and said they were afraid to talk.

One said in the state personnel whistleblower hearing he was apprehensive to testify
because he feared retaliation.

Another testified under oath that some of the findings in the quality assurance audit of
Wade’s claims included misstatements of fact.

"Retaliation is horrible in DPS. It's basically, keep your opinion to yourself and don't say
a word. There is a serious morale problem,” Wade said.

In months researching this story, we got calls from several active duty troopers and
supervisors who said many of the claims in Wade’s letter should have resulted in
disciplinary action against other troopers and the swift action to send him home on what
they called a bogus theft claim is just proof of the lengths the command staff is willing to
take to try and keep people "in line.”

"I deserve my job back,” Wade said.

Wade says this isn't just about him. He hopes to spotlight chronic problems putting
public safety at risk.

"I'm talking about one of my troopers being either seriously injured or killed,” he said.
Now with the Law Enforcement Merit System Council upholding his termination on
Tuesday, Wade will have to wait for his second appeal to the state.

Council chairman Richard Walker said it wasn’t an easy case and while there appeared
to be validity to certain claims Wade made, it didn’t give him a license to make false or
misleading statements to PSU or excuse the unfounded allegations of criminal
misconduct without sufficient substantiation.

“I consider the results, in this case, to be somewhat tragic because it would have been
so easy to raise all the complaints in a way that was more responsible,” Walker said.

“I know what I could have done better. I could have articulated my letter better,” Wade
said.

Be that as it may, he still just wants to clear his name and return to his calling.

"I would love to go back to DPS. This isn't a paycheck. This isn't a job. It's a way of life.
It's what I enjoy doing,” Wade said. "I don't know how we rebuild the trust that our
officers are supposed to have in their chain of command. That's a very hard problem to
resolve."

Wade could still get his job back through the state personnel board, which has a few
months to rule on his whistleblower case.

If he wins, his supervisors could also be fined or fired.