It's Machiavellian in a Simple Way

    Until last week, Al Linenberger was just like you.  He was a hard-working family man, active in community affairs.  A model citizen.

    At least, he thought he was.  Certainly, he didn't suspect that he was a public enemy at large. 

    But a week ago Monday, while he and his wife were attending a CYO dinner, he received a frantic call from his 16-year-old son, whom they'd left at home in Sun Valley with their two other children.

    "Dad," the boy told him, "the police were here. They've got a warrant out for your arrest."

    Needless to say, this disturbed Mr. Linenberger.  He'd done nothing wrong.  He was sure of that.  His record was so clean, in fact, that he'd gone 12 years without so much as a traffic citation.

    He got on the phone both that night and early the next morning to find out what it was all about.  He called the LAPD.  An officer confirmed for him that the warrant existed.  It was for a traffic violation.

    That started Al Linenberger to thinking. 

    He had, way back last October, been stopped by a patrol car in Hollywood for making an illegal right turn.  He hadn't seen the sign, and the young officer was extremely polite about it.

    He courteously pointed out the violation, then took Linenberger's driver's license and registration, and walked to the back of the car with them.  He reappeared a few minutes later.

    Rather hurriedly, he handed back the license and registration.  With a smile, the young officer said, "This is your lucky day.  I've got to go.  I just got a call."

    That was Linenberger's only "brush" with the law which he could recollect.  But the officer had told him, "This is your lucky day."  And he didn't give him a ticket.

    The day following the two police officers' visit to his home, Linenberger took the afternoon off from work to appear in traffic court.

    After sitting through about 150 cases, his turn came.  He explained to the judge that to the best of his knowledge, he hadn't had a ticket in years.  Then the judge asked him about the October incident.  Linenberger recalled it.

    "But the officer didn't give me a ticket," he protested.  "Do you have a ticket against me?"

    The judge said no, he didn't.

    The judge then asked him:  "Do you remember making the illegal right turn?"

    "Yes, your honor, I do."

    "That will be $11," replied the judge.

    Linenberger paid, but he left our court of justice a very confused man.

    And yesterday, when he told me the story, he left me equally confused.  I placed a call to municipal court and talked to Joe McConnell, assistant traffic chief.  He checked the files on the case.

    "When an officer, for some reason, can't write a ticket on the spot," he told me, "the procedure is for him to have a complaint drawn up by the city attorney's office.

    "The complaint in this particular case was filed with us on Nov. 2.  We sent a letter notifying Mr. Linenberger to appear by Nov. 16 the following day,"  McConnell added.   "When he didn't appear by Nov. 30, we had a warrant made for his arrest and turned it over to the LAPD."

    McConnell read me the address to which the notification letter was sent.  It was correct.  He pointed out that the records showed that the letter was never returned unclaimed to his office. 

    Linenberger swears that he never received the letter.  "If I had," he told me, "I would have paid the fine. That's all."

    The missing letter mystery will undoubtedly go down in the annals of the LAPD along with the Black Dahlia Case.

    "But why," Linenberger asked me, "did the officer say, 'This is your lucky day,' and then turn in a violation anyway?"

    R.C. Waers, 23, the officer involved, today said he recalled the incident at Franklin Ave. and Vine St., which was posted against right turns.  He doesn't recall saying, "This is your lucky day" — but admitted with no animosity that he doesn't recall exactly what was said when he received a "Code 2" emergency call and had to depart.

    "When I checked into Hollywood Station I asked the watch commander or someone whether there was enough information on the citation to finish it," he said.

    He said he saw nothing unusual about finishing the citation, when so advised.  "After all, he DID make the violation."

    "But what mystifies me is why he didn't receive the November letter telling him to appear," he said.