RALEIGH'S NEW POLICE CHIEF BLENDS TOUGHNESS WITH COMPASSION

Her Work Led To A Permanent Anti-Drug Program In New York

BOSTON -- Jane Perlov, soon to be Raleigh's new police chief, grew up
reading Victorian novels and playing the flute in a sprawling
apartment on New York's Upper West Side. One of her first jobs was
raising money for the opera, and as an aspiring social worker she
investigated complaints against the police.

It was hardly the traditional grooming for a New York City cop.

But those who worked with her in New York and later in Boston say
neither her size -- she stands 5-feet-2 -- nor her background ever
got in the way of literally chasing down bad guys or motivating those
who worked for her.

For officer Lauren Dong of the 30th precinct in Harlem, the first
image that comes to mind of his former commanding officer is the
sight of Perlov running past him as he responded to a shooting.

"She turned around and said 'Can't you run faster than that?' " Dong
recalled with a smile. "It didn't matter if she was small, female or
white. As commanding officer, she was there."

Perlov, 44, spent 18 years on the New York Police Department and is
now wrapping up three years as secretary of public safety in the
state of Massachusetts, a cabinet post answering to the governor. But
she didn't spend all her time in conference rooms. She was on the
front lines last year when a warehouse fire in Worcester, Mass.,
killed six firefighters. She'll leave behind a 21st-floor corner
office on Beacon Hill to take charge in Raleigh on Sept. 17. Her new
salary will be $108,000.

"I really missed being a cop -- it really is who I am," Perlov says.

Her former colleagues point to two defining moments as indications of
how Perlov is likely to lead in Raleigh. She was credited with
repairing community-police relations after the "Dirty 30" scandal in
Harlem six years ago and for her response to the Worcester fire.

"She was the coordinating force to lead the resources of the
commonwealth into Worcester for the recovery," said Stephen D. Coan,
state fire marshal in Massachusetts.

Perlov's career in law enforcement began on a lark in 1981. She was
an aspiring social worker, investigating complaints against police in
the New York City department, when she was goaded to take the civil
service exam by detectives she met on the job. Before that she had
worked as a fund-raiser at the Metropolitan Opera House.

She was among the first women to join the police force after a hiring
freeze that began in 1973 and started out at the 30th Precinct, known
locally as the "three oh," where she was later a commander.

"I never played the woman thing," Perlov said. "I never said I can't
do something, never let them put me in roles they often put women in,
like on the switchboard."

Early on, she wanted to partner with another woman, but commanders
would never allow it. But since then things have changed. "Now it's
common," she said.

Along the way, she got her nose broken in a fight with a criminal she
was arresting, and organized merchants, residents and businesses in
Times Square into a crime prevention team. Officers she worked with
said she rose quickly through the ranks passing promotions tests as
soon as she became eligible.

In 1995, more than 30 officers were arrested for cooperating with
drug dealers and shaking down others for drugs and money in the 30th
precinct. Residents' trust in the police department was at an
all-time low after years of complaints that police were abusive and
allowed drug dealers to take control of neighborhoods.

"Officers who wanted to make money off drug dealing [had] bid to come
in here," said Lawrence McClean, district manager of the local
community board, an organization set up by the city to handle citizen
complaints of all kinds. "People didn't think she was up to the job.
She proved them wrong."

The 30th is a rough-and-tumble precinct in Harlem encompassing a
population about equal in size to Raleigh's, and where the heat
radiates as much from the brick and concrete below as from the sun
above on a hot summer day.

Since residents thought it was fruitless to air their grievances at
the monthly meetings at the precinct house, Perlov went to them. She
attended civic groups, tenant associations and churches. She
collected information and relayed it back to her beat officers.

While Perlov reached out to the community, officers also thought she was fair.

Once, at a drug corner at West 149th Street and Broadway, five tires
were slashed on three squad cars during a call, said Officer Michael
Rodriguez.

"She locked the area down, flooded it with cops and turned it into a
zero-tolerance area," Rodriguez said. After a week of arrests for
every minor infraction, the drug dealers' business was so hurt that
they turned in the tire slashers.

But instead of ending the effort, Perlov and her downtown bosses
expanded it. They formed Operation Striker, which was a borough-wide
effort to flood drug-infested blocks with police who made arrests for
loitering, graffiti and public drinking. The minor violations gave
police reason to check for drugs, weapons and outstanding warrants.
The result was to ruin business for drug dealers. Perlov, who often
joined her officers at the scene, became known on the street as "Miss
Lockdown."

Soon drug dealers moved from the streets into apartment buildings,
making arrests and investigations more difficult. But Perlov followed.

Working with the district attorney, she developed the Trespass
Affidavit Program. When building owners would sign up, police would
get a list of tenants. Anyone who didn't live there or couldn't
provide the name of the tenant he or she was visiting would be
promptly arrested.

"It was a block-by-block battle, but if she didn't push for it, we
never would have gotten as far as we did," McClean said.

Operation Striker lead to the Tracer Unit, a permanent city-wide
anti-drug program that is still in effect.

Her successes at the 30th were measurable: 54 percent reduction in
homicides and 26 percent reduction in index crimes in 2 1/2 years.
"She was the best commanding officer we ever had," said Officer
Michael Rodriguez. She knew each officer's first name.

In the Worcester fire, Perlov was widely credited with pulling
together resources in a disaster situation while being sensitive to
local officials, grieving families and the media.

The catastrophe, one of the worst losses of firefighters ever,
occurred as the Worcester Fire Department was fighting a windowless
warehouse fire. First, two firefighters were lost in the building,
then two firefighters sent in to find them were lost, then two more.
Eventually, the six-story building fell in on itself. It took more
than a week to put out the fire and eight days to recover the bodies.

Perlov's approach was to go to the site and assume a supportive role
to Coan and the Worcester fire chief, who remained in charge of the
scene. She procured and coordinated whatever service or supplies were
needed. More than 160 fire departments assisted.

She supported emotionally drained fire officials and sat at the front
pew at the funerals for each of the six who died. Recalling that,
Coan said he was "a bit touched" to hear that she was leaving.

Later, she helped the state's fire departments obtain thermal imaging
cameras and training that might have helped save the firefighters'
lives in Worcester and supported increases in firefighters' benefits.

"We center upon Worcester because it was so traumatic for all of us,"
Coan said. "But in general, her open style of management -- always
there to bridge a gap and forge a partnership -- we're a stronger
fire department today."

Apart from policy disagreements, such as with her support of the
death penalty in a state that does not have it, there are few critics
of Perlov's performance in Massachusetts. Even Michael Goldman, a
Democratic political consultant who also is host of a radio call-in
show in the Boston area, said he had nothing bad to say about her.

"The biggest problem that Jane Perlov had in the state of
Massachusetts is that she was bucking an old boy network -- that she
wasn't able to do as much as was she brought in [to do] or wanted to
do. But nobody ever blamed her," Goldman said. "No one I spoke to
ever said anything negative about her."

Sitting in her Boston office, Perlov stressed that in her move to
Raleigh she isn't looking to fix the police department because it
already works well. But she would like to implement some of the
methods that succeeded for her in the past.

In Massachusetts, for example, more than 100 violent fugitives were
brought into custody by cross-checking warrants with welfare records
in New York City. Perlov has said she would like to look at how
aggressively the warrants are served in Raleigh.

"We already know where fugitives are; we shouldn't leave them out on
the street," she said.

In New York, Perlov participated in the celebrated Comstat
(computerized statistics) program, regular conferences where police
would analyze crime patterns on a weekly and daily basis and develop
prevention strategies. Perlov said she'd also like to institute
something she calls "traffic-stat," applying the Comstat strategy to
traffic accidents and complaints in Raleigh.

When she was in Raleigh last week, Perlov said, the department's
crime analysts "seemed very excited about the possibility of bringing
this strategy to Raleigh." But she warned that the software will cost
money and that implementing the strategy will require officers to be
flexible. "You have to give commanders the ability to move resources
and get resources," she said.

If they need help from narcotics officers, federal authorities or a
special operations squad, supervisors should be able to order up help
without first calling on the chief, she said.

Ronnie Alperin Drimer, Perlov's executive assistant, reflected the
devotion she has instilled in her staff.

"I love her," said Drimer. "She's so genuine, so down to earth."

She said Perlov motivated her staff through her own enthusiasm and
hard work, and by paying attention to small things.

"She's a dog lover. We would talk about our dogs like they're our
children," Drimer said. "My dog died about a month ago. I was crying
and she was right there crying with me."