PUSHING DEALERS OUT OF THE 'HOOD

On Tuesday morning, Const. Maurice Brodeur knocked on the front door
of a south-side house and introduced himself.

Brodeur amiably informed the home's occupant that some of his
neighbours noticed strange activity - a steady stream of cars coming
and going at all hours, strange smells, that sort of thing.

This, Brodeur informed the occupant, suggests to police that drugs
are being sold out of this house, so they'll be keeping an eye on the
place. After chatting with him for a few more minutes, Brodeur wished
the man a good day, turned on his heel and left.

On Wednesday morning, Brodeur spun by the house again just to check things out.

"He was already moving out," he says, a triumphant smile lighting up
his face. "It took less than 24 hours."

No arrests, no charges, but no more drug dealer in the neighbourhood.

Brodeur's partner, Const. Dave Woudstra, said all too often the focus
of policing is gathering up enough evidence to lay charges, which can
be incredibly time-consuming and drain huge amounts of manpower.

And often, the end result is a slap on the wrist for the drug dealer,
who just shrugs it off as the cost of doing business.

"We're not focused on charges," Woudstra explains. "We're focused on
solving the problem in the neighbourhood. Obviously, everything we do
is legal, but it's not conventional."

Brodeur and Woudstra have a few tricks up their sleeves. One of their
favourites is a form letter they send out to everyone in the vicinity
of a suspected drug dealer's house.

The letter states that it's "in regard to a drug house being in your
area. I cannot provide you with the address due to the Freedom of
Information and Privacy Act. However, I am aware that most of you
know which house I am talking to you about."

They ask all the neighbours to record licence plates and descriptions
of all the cars that come and go from the house.

"We make sure the house in question receives a copy," Brodeur says, grinning.

Often, the letter is all it takes for drug dealers to rethink their
choice of location.

The partners will also work with landlords who have trouble getting
rid of drug-dealing tenants. There are usually plenty of reasons to
evict them - noise, late rent, damage - and Brodeur is more than
happy to hand deliver the eviction notice himself.

"If they still don't leave, I'll go with the landlord to the
courthouse to apply for a writ of possession. It that doesn't work,
we'll go to the Court of Queen's Bench and get another order. Once we
have that, I can pull them out by their hair if I have to. We can
have the whole thing wrapped up in about a week."

Their greatest triumph was when they made life so frustrating for a
suspected crystal meth dealer that he threw up his hands and left town.

He owned three houses in a row. He lived in one house and sold meth
out of there, while the others were used by his customers as places
to flop while they used. Woudstra and Brodeur worked with city hall
to have the flop houses condemned, thus driving away the dealer's customers.

When they turned their attention to the dealer's house, Woudstra
said, "he put it up for sale, and told us, 'That's it, I'm outta here.' "

One community they worked with saw the number of thefts and break-ins
drop from 76 to two in a single month.

Woudstra and Brodeur have their own hotline (426-8229) for south-side
citizens to report suspected drug houses. While they promise to get
back to all callers within a day, the tips are kept strictly confidential.

"I'll eat my computer before I ever release anyone's name," says Brodeur