HOMICIDE FIGHT CENTERS ON DRUG TRADE

With a Rise in Dealer-Related Killings, Special Unit Goes After Those
With Gun Records

Sergeant Detective Al Terestre stood before four police officers
inside the Dorchester district station on a recent December morning
and explained the day's mission.

Their target was Victor Kipping - 6-foot-5, 300 pounds, with a gun
record - who, according to one of Terestre's informants, was dealing
marijuana out of his home.

"He's no slouch," Terestre warned the drug unit officers crowded in
the squad's cramped office. "He's a big guy. He's got a violent past."

Boston police are putting men with gun records and histories of
violence in their sights, hoping it will tamp down the spree of
shootings and stabbings that last year led to 72 homicides, a nearly
50 percent increase from 2009.

Commissioner Edward F. Davis attributes the rise in homicides mostly
to an expanding drug market that, he says, has been fed by the
decriminalization of marijuana and the release of convicts with drug
records who cannot find work in a poor economy and have turned once
again to dealing.

Davis says many of the killings are linked to incidents in which drug
dealers stole from other dealers. Davis has declined to specify how
many homicides last year were the result of drug deals gone bad, but
his spokeswoman said his assertion is based on "factual analysis of
each case." Some community leaders are skeptical, saying Davis's
theory linking drug crimes to last year's homicide rate does not
reflect what they are hearing and seeing on the streets.

The department's drug unit has now been ordered to prioritize violent
drug dealers.

"What we're doing is we're concentrating on people who are using
firearms in their commission of day-to-day activity," Davis said.
"We're not focusing on nonviolent traffickers as much as we are on a
violent trafficker."

The drug unit is an 88-member force that Davis had previously cut and
now is considering expanding. He has already shaken up its leadership
structure following the rising violence.

The unit has a unique profile. Many of the officers work undercover in
jeans and sweatshirts. They rely on a network of street informants -
some of their best are scorned girlfriends and others willing to buy
drugs as part of a sting operation in exchange for $20 or $30 from the
police.

Terestre, a 54-year-old with a gravelly voice who runs for an hour a
day, six days a week in the district station's basement gym, said the
new emphasis on violent dealers is working.

"If they want us to go out and get Mr. Big, I have to dedicate time to
get Mr. Big," he said. "They would really rather me get a little
Johnny Jones that has a few ounces of crack if Johnny Jones is
responsible for shootings, or if his little group is responsible for
shootings. . . . There is a direction to it. And it's paying off."

Over the past decade, as the size of the drug unit has been scaled
back, the number of drug-related arrests by Boston police has dropped
significantly.

In 2010, there were 3,447 drug-related arrests, down from 5,121 in
2000. Arrests fell steeply following 2007, when the drug unit lost an
eight-person squad that aggressively patrolled the city during the
day.

Davis said he is now considering bringing back that squad. Currently,
narcotics officers, who work out of the city's 11 districts, only work
nights.

The department's antidrug efforts face other personnel challenges.
Several squads are short one to three officers because of
reassignments and promotions. A police spokeswoman said the department
hopes to replace them "as soon as possible."

The department has also reduced overall spending for overtime work, a
source of ire for the rank and file who say the cuts compromise
investigations. Some officers privately say those cuts likely played a
part in the drop in arrests.

Elaine Driscoll, the police spokeswoman, said drug-related arrests
fell because overall crime was also falling for much of that time. She
also cited a 2008 change in drug laws that decriminalized possession
of up to an ounce of marijuana, making it punishable only by
confiscation and a $100 fine.

Still, arrests for other narcotics, like heroin, crack cocaine, and
ecstasy also fell considerably during the same time period.

Recent state Department of Correction figures support Davis's
contention that there are more ex-offenders with drug records being
released from prisons. Thirty-five percent of male inmates released in
2008 were drug offenders, up from 18 percent in 2004, according to a
2008 study, the most recent report available.

The decriminalization of marijuana, Davis said, has increased demand
for that drug, because more people are now less afraid to buy it.

"I'm not ready to say that this [homicide spike] is driven by
marijuana," Davis said. "There are many drugs that are involved. But
it's more about money than the type of drug that's being utilized, and
marijuana is a substance that has a high profit margin."

Community leaders said they are encouraged that narcotics officers
have been ordered to prioritize violent drug dealers, but that the
effort is not a complete solution to Boston's homicide problem.

"It's very convenient for people to point to drugs," said Jorge
Martinez, executive director of Project RIGHT, a Roxbury nonprofit.
"This is happening because of personality conflicts, family issues,
domestic violence - things that have been happening for years. . . .
You can lock up people all day long, but if you don't get to
underlying issues we're not going to solve this problem."

Jack Levin, professor of criminology at Northeastern University, said
that police and the city have become more adept at helping young gang
members and teenagers at risk of committing crimes. But older
ex-offenders who deal drugs are a bigger challenge, he said.

"Prevention programs are great for teenagers and teenage drug dealers,
but when the drug dealers are in their 20s and 30s, after-school
programs are not going to work," Levin said. "They need jobs and the
promise of employment, and during this period of budget crunch at the
state and local level that's probably not going to happen."

Terestre, who has worked in the drug unit since 1999, said he believes
the poor economy has led people with no drug record to start dealing.

He recalled one novice dealer police spotted during a recent stakeout.
The dealer grabbed a bag of white powder, held it aloft, and shook it,
something a veteran dealer would never do in the open, Terestre said.
It turned out that dealer was an out-of-work carpenter who began
dealing cocaine to help make his mortgage payments, he said.

Kipping was on the department's target list in part because the
officers believed he might have a gun. An unemployed father of two,
Kipping had served about 18 months in jail for gun possession, and
gang members had been seen going in and out of his house, Terestre
said.

But when they went to arrest him in December, the man they found did
not look very menacing. As Terestre watched from his car, Kipping
emerged from his house and ambled down Richfield Street, tapping away
on a phone.

Within seconds, about 10 officers descended on him. "Hands up!" they
yelled and frisked him.

Eyes darting back and forth, Kipping clenched his jaw and fought back
tears.

"I've got nothing," he said when police asked him if he was holding
drugs or weapons. "No money, no weed, no nothing."

Armed with a search warrant, the officers ran inside the house, where
the smell of marijuana lingered in the air.

Near a blaring television sat an 8-year-old girl, who shivered in a
thin purple and pink shirt emblazoned with the words 'love,' 'peace,'
and 'happiness.' She leaned her head on the shoulder of a teenage
girl, who did not seem shocked to see police in her house.

"Could one of you close the door, 'cause it's cold,' " she
said.

On another couch was Kipping's girlfriend and his 4-year-old son, who
slept beneath a blanket.

"Let him sleep," one detective said. "Because he'll never forget
it."

The officers asked the mother and girls to leave the room, where
Terestre said Kipping admitted he stashed his drugs.

Alone in the living room, about half a dozen officers silently tore it
apart, turning couches upside down, knocking over a trash bin, and
taking apart a video game console.

They found 13 packets of marijuana, one small bag of crack cocaine,
and two large bags of marijuana.

Police did not find a gun in the house.

"He's small," one officer said of Kipping's drug operation. "He's not
rolling big."

By this time, the boy was awake, digging into a bowl of cereal as he
watched the officers.

"All right," Terestre said to his men. "We're out of
here."

The next day, Kipping pleaded not guilty to several drug charges in
Dorchester District Court, and was released on $350 cash bail. He is
scheduled to return to court next month.