This site comprises documentation of my contact and interaction with Virginia State Police Special Agent (Anthony) Tony Gattuso -- up until the agency he's employed by forbid him to see me. Posts are in chronological order; newest additions are on the last page.

My Thoughts In Italics

I read the email and tilted my head to the right slightly. The clear implication was that it’d been sent by a member of Law Enforcement. In... ter... ressst... ing.

I’d received email from assorted so-called Boys in Blue before but mostly from the braggart types who, in some way, somewhere in the contact explicitly stated the profession they’re in -- as if their career alone made them extra special, and they wanted me to know it. This one, well, this one was… different.

For a moment I considered the possibility the missive was from some random generic person, someone who knew of my very unhidden affinity for cops, and he was merely amusing himself with a game of sorts. Still, there was just enough of an I-have-a-badge edge to it to make me believe it was indeed from an officer.

Prickles of excitement began to meld with the curiosity that was already assaulting me.

I reread the words again. Who is this guy?

I copied the unique address the electronic letter had come from and promptly plunked it into Google. Nothing. At all! That to me indicated, whoever the man was, he’d probably set up the Gmail account strictly for the purpose of this communication with me. I’ve learned it’s not uncommon for people when they do such to try to conceal their identities to stick with something near to what they’re already familiar with. So I ran queries on close versions of the term -- for example, substituting a “1” for a “one.” Got nowhere with that either. I went back to searching the original address in quotes but now under mail servers other than Gmail --,, et cetera. I was both irritated and intrigued by the absolute lack of results those too produced. Next: same servers, previously-mentioned variations. No good. Last, I gave the name itself a shot; it was an unusual anonym, yet not so extraordinary it wouldn’t pull any information up. I included some narrowing specifics as well, like “Virginia,” “VA,” or “officer.” I scanned the multitude of potentials that, this time, the search engine offered. Figures, thirty zakillion pages and none seemed to fit what I was seeking. All right, fine; be that way.

There was only one feasible solution: with a big ol’ cheesy grin on my face, I, the graced recipient of an attention-getter, returned to my Inbox and clicked “Reply.”