This was written by Lee Papa a professor at College of Staten Island most of you know him as "The Rude Pundit".
Anyway the essay is great and I would like to encourage others to see how easy people can be fooled.
A Rapist
by Lee Papa
I once shook the rapist's hand. That was, of course, before my brother's phone call, when he told me about the rapist, that the man that his ex-wife had been dating, was engaged to be married to, even, was the rapist. The rapist had been raping for over thirteen years. The rapist was a cop who investigated crimes against juveniles, including rape. He had told the mother of one young rape victim, "I can't understand that. I can't understand how someone could do that to children." There was real anger in his voice, the mother said. As if he was feeling real pain over this. The rapist never assaulted children. His victims ranged from 20 to 55. Even a rapist must, after all, have a moral code, a line over which he will not cross. I've heard that serial killers will not kill other murderers. Recognition of the profession, you know.
The rapist had been very good at his job as a cop. Many officers on the county police force said he was an honored and valuable detective, decorated over and over again. A cop became the suspect when several victims met with a detective and said that the demeanor and actions of the rapist seemed appropriate to a cop. The skill with the handcuffs, the way he held the gun - to prevent anyone from pulling it away - the long flashlight he used to try to blind them in the dark, held over his shoulder so he could use it as a weapon if he needed. The officers investigating the rapist noticed that one of their own resembled the composite sketch. They got his DNA from the saliva on a cigarette butt, and it matched the DNA of semen samples. My young niece, my brother's daughter, had spent a great deal of time with the rapist, of course. She said how much she hated the rapist's smoking, how he smoked in the car, in the house, how they had to sit in the smoking sections of restaurants. I hate smoking, too, I told her. To me, smoking always represented a lack of control, a place to hide. When it was all revealed, she asked her mother, "So are you finally gonna break up with him?"
http://www.corpse.org/issue_5/broken_news/papa.htm