This story was originally published on March 28, 2005.
Seeing the same faces shuffle through the system on prostitution charges, the undercover vice detective began to collect them.
He placed arrest photo after photo of each woman in sequence, so someone could study the first innocuous picture, skim through the middle and be riveted on the last: the one that shows the ravages of living on the street, where eyes tell tales of pain and despair, anger and desperation.
“It’s so drastic, and it can be so fast,’ the undercover officer said of the downward spirals he’s seen in six years of working prostitution cases, “and it’s all because they don’t care.
“Well,’ he said, “I care.’
He placed the photos in a black binder, and on the first page he typed, “Look at this and ask yourself if prostitution is really a victimless crime.’
His goal, he said, was for the book to be used as an educational tool, a deterrent.
He got his wish.
Now, a Denver county judge keeps a copy in his courtroom to show first offenders as he oversees a new jail-diversion program for prostitutes. The proposal for that program was written in part by a Denver official who was stunned by the photos.
A City Council member, sickened after viewing the pages, is renewing her efforts to fund a treatment program for prostitutes in Denver.
And police officers use the book in training to raise the awareness of those who believe that prostitution is only about crime.
“There’s no way you can look at those photos,’ the undercover detective, whom department officials asked not to be identified, told The Denver Post, “and not see the victimization involved.’
Through the montage of arrest photos of the prostitutes, he said, he has tried to capture their struggles.
“They’re victims and they’re defendants and they’re perpetrators and they’re drug addicts and they’re sociopaths – all rolled into one,’ said Denver County Judge John Marcucci.
Last month, Marcucci began overseeing Project Chrysalis, a new drug court program funded by the Department of Justice designed solely as a jail diversion program for prostitutes with multiple arrests.
In his courtroom, sentences for prostitutes vary according to the defendant’s criminal history and whether they want to participate in any drug rehabilitation programs.
A first offense is typically a fine and up to 10 days in jail. The second offense is 30 to 60 days in jail, and by the third offense, a prostitution charge will garner 90 days to a year behind bars.
Many women will do the time, only to reappear in court on a new charge shortly after their release, police say. The revolving door is attributed to drug or alcohol addiction.
When critics of the justice system tell him to toughen his sentences on prostitutes, Marcucci said, “I show them the book. Then they say, ‘Oh, my God, we have to get these women some help.”
Upon first seeing the collection about six months ago, Denver City Councilwoman Carol Boigon said she felt “nauseous and sick and weepy. It takes your breath away.’
Boigon noted that the first arrest photos look like anyone’s high school child, but it quickly goes downhill from there.
“They go from fresh-faced and sweet to vacant and bruised,’ she said.
Boigon, who is developing a residential treatment center for prostitutes funded without city tax dollars, believes they are both victims and criminals.
“You’re dealing with people who became outlaws because they were victimized.’ she said. “Add to that the layers of drug abuse and addiction, and jail is not going to change their behavior.’
Police officials say the effects of prostitution are far-reaching. Last year, Denver police made 538 prostitution arrests.
“The impact is untold on businesses and neighborhoods,’ said Denver police division chief Dave Fisher.
As far as the prostitutes themselves, Fisher said, “So many of these women are beaten, raped and robbed. The narrow-minded person might see only this woman selling her body, but what they don’t see is the lifestyle that is associated with that.’
And that lifestyle, the undercover vice detective said, is one of addiction and survival.
“It puts them in a place they don’t want to be,’ he said.
Since he began the collection of photos in 2003, he said, it remains a work in progress, and one that he hopes will continue to stir compassion.
“Everybody’s got their demons,’ he said. “So you don’t look down on somebody for what they have as a demon in their life.’
Denver Post researchers Anne Feiler and Barbara Hudson contributed to this report.
Staff writer Amy Herdy can be reached at 303-820-1752 or aherdy@denverpost.com.
