Police chief Harland Harry Marsh aged 49, was five feet eleven inches tall, 210 pounds, had red hair, green eyes, husky broad shoulders, large arms and hands, and spoke with the voice of authority in his gravelly voice. Harry was at first just a policeman walking the city sidewalks on a beat. He saw wrongdoing, people injured, killed, property damaged, and robberies of all kinds. People beat up other people. He learned early in his career that some people had ill will in their hearts for others and thought nothing of committing crimes. As the years went by Harry’s work got him a series of promotions. These were sergeant, lieutenant, captain, inspector, assistant police chief, and finally chief. There was a wall against crime that law and order built. This was the police force. It was both a noble and a dangerous job. Chief Marsh wore a blue suit with a jacket with eight brass buttons, a silver badge, blue trousers, a light blue shirt, a black tie, a policeman’s hat with a black leather brim, and polished black leather shoes. There was a patch on his left shoulder saying he was a Charlotte Policeman. On his left upper chest was another patch indicating he was the police chief. Above him were the politicians like the police commissioners, aldermen and the mayor. His was a job of highest respect and dignity, with an immense load of responsibility.