In Hightstown, it’s always Miller time

Detective bureau is a one-man show

By: Dick Brinster
   HIGHTSTOWN — Benjamin Miller is a one-man band in the detective bureau of the Police Department — unless you count Mini-Me.
   Visible atop a filing cabinet behind the desk of the borough’s only plainclothes sleuth is a doll of the diminutive character from the Austin Powers movies. And that’s a good thing, because no one has to ask the detective if he and Mini-Me ever have been seen in the same place at the same time.
   Proof, indeed, they are not one and the same. But Detective Miller doesn’t mind the comparisons that began shortly after he walked into the office one day and on his desk was Mini-Me, a miniature clone of Mr. Powers’ nemesis, Dr. Evil.
   "He’s really short and bald, so I kind of fit the profile," said the 35-year-old policeman, unafraid of a little self-deprecating humor. "I’m 5-5. That’s me."
   The good-natured razzing Detective Miller takes is a relief valve for this father of two, a Rutgers graduate in his sixth year on the force. He sees it as an example of the sort of camaraderie that promotes laughter in a difficult business.
   He never knows what to expect next.
   "You can find your facial shots put into comics or press releases," said Detective Miller, whose likeness once was superimposed by one of his colleagues over a photo of Elian Gonzalez, the Miami boy sent back to his father in Cuba in 2000. "It’s all in good fun."
   But, as one would suspect, fun and laughter are not the primary ingredients in a typical day for a policeman.
   "In a word, ‘hectic,’" Detective Miller said.
   It’s all about keeping the criminal records, chasing the bad guys when necessary, organizing, cataloging and storing evidence, seizing vehicles and property, registering sex offenders under Megan’s Law and perhaps throwing on a uniform because a shift on patrol needs to be filled.
   Detective Miller also carries more than a police badge.
   "First aid calls I go out on because I’m also an EMT," he explained. "Fire calls I go out on because I’m also a volunteer fireman.
   "I’m a jack of all trades, and I wear many hats."
   And, there’s never a guarantee of time off for service rendered. After four years as the detective, he knows its can be a struggle to find moments of relaxation.
   "I’m on call 24 hours a day, seven days a week, 52 weeks a year," Detective Miller said.
   He wishes he could forget some of those days and weeks, but an image of dread overwhelms the notion.
   "Probably the toughest thing I’ve had to deal with is homicides," he said. "Both of them were infants; they were shaken babies."
   Investigating their deaths in May 2003 and November 2004 took Detective Miller to the last place he wanted to be — the morgue. Attending autopsies of babies is a heart-wrenching experience for him. He thinks of his own children.
   "Having a family and kids of a young age, it’s almost like seeing your own child on the table," he said. "Being a parent and seeing how much abuse some of these children suffer in their short life span certainly takes a toll on me.
   "It’s one of those things where you come back to your office, shut the door and you cry your cry."
   Still, he says he must fight through the emotion because he is the "last voice" of the dead children. He must seek justice in their names. In the 2003 case, a grand jury failed to return an indictment. A year later, a guilty plea resulted in a 25-year prison term in the other case.
   "But what punishment a person receives, it’ll never be justice enough," Detective Miller said. "At least you have the opportunity to try to make it right within the means that you have."
   That sort of dedication is not overlooked by Police Chief James Eufemia.
   "He does a great job for us," the chief said. "He’s highly motivated, well-schooled and he is able to build a rapport with victims, which make his job that much easier, and also those who are accused of incidents."
   Some of the accused are not so bright, Detective Miller said.
   "If it weren’t for stupidity and dumb people I don’t think I’d have a job," he said. "So I’m thankful every day for them and the overtime they create for me."
   He says criminals are known to take something from a crime scene and leave something behind. They get careless and complacent. They’re usually the easy ones to catch. At times, they’re so lackadaisical that Detective Miller feels lucky.
   "I guess the dumbest one I had was a person who went on a mischievous spree and upon fleeing, left their vehicle registration and insurance card," he recalled. "He was a pretty easy one to find."
   What he can’t find, however, is a feeling of long-term stability as a result of talks to possibly consolidate his department with East Windsor. The jobs of Detective Miller and the other 13 officers in the department, with an approximate $1.5 million budget, would be in serious jeopardy should consolidation with the 50-member East Windsor force become a reality.
   "It worries me because I have another 18 years to go before I can even think about retiring," he said. "That’s a long haul, especially with having a family."
   He tries not to let uncertainty affect his demeanor or his morale on the job. He says he means no discredit to any other police department but points out that one-mile-square Hightstown, with just about 5,000 people, is a close-knit community and he gets to deal with the same people on a frequent basis.
   By comparison, East Windsor, with an $8 million budget, has a 50-person force and patrols 15.6 square miles.
   "There’s a familiarity there that with being taken over by another agency will be lost," Detective Miller said. "It’s something that I think about, but I can’t dwell on it and do my job."