Why Washington's best cops walk its safest beat.

• Author: Cooper, Matthew
• Position: Guarding embassies

The city's murder rate is soaring. And the Secret Service prowls the poshest streets. Why Washington's Best Cops Walk Its Safest Beat

Deputy Chief James Barnes is not only the kind of guy you'd want to have a beer with, he's who you want by your side when the guy at the end of the bar draws a knife. Chawing on a toothpick so hard that its 45-degree angle almost touches his salt-and-pepper moustache, Barnes looks like the ex-Marine that he is. Balding, he's a likable black Lou Grant. He calls me "Buddy."

Last month at the headquarters in Washington he showed me some guys he considers pretty tough. We strode out of his spare, large office to the trophy case down the fluorescent-lit hall. "That guy was great," he said, still chawing and pointing to a black-and-white photograph of a stocky 1940s cop, "he was incredible." Moving down the row of trophies, some of which looked like bowling souvenirs, and others that spoke with authority, like silver statues of 1920s-looking patrolmen with their arms cocked in the firing position, Barnes gets to the last plaque, the one with physical fitness awards given to his crew. "Hey, Bill, can you come out here a second," he shouts, and Officer William Knopick responds in about a second. He has that first-day-on-the-beach pale and a build that might pass for a pharmacist's. But he also has his name proudly etched on that plaque, holding most of the records for the 40-49 age group. The guy who sells you Sudafed probably cannot, like Bill Knopick, do 60 push-ups in a minute.

Barnes and Knopick aren't regular cops, they're the exceptional cops of the U.S. Secret Service. While it's best known for those inconspicuous agents with Ray Bans, suits, and wires coming out of their ears, the Secret Service also marshalls a police force of 985 cops in its Uniformed Division. They drive midnight-blue squad cars and take to the streets in crisp uniforms: white shirt, black pants, yellow stripe down the side. They are a common sight in Northwest Washington where they guard the White House and most of the embassies, consulates, and chanceries under their jurisdiction. They wear badges.

It's an impressive crew. While most police departments administer a physical but once a year, the Uniformed Division makes its officers sweat it out every three months. Compared to other elite federal agents, the Uniformed Division looks good. Its leading marksmen have taken competitions from the Border Patrol, the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms, and other federal law enforcement agencies. At the Secret Service training center, it is the officers of the Uniformed Division who teach the Ray Ban agents how to shoot.

There's just one problem: the best cops in Washington walk the safest beat. The Uniformed Division's mission to protect the embassies literally leaves officers riding shotgun past sleepy mansions in some of the city's best neighborhoods.

For years, Washington's local police force protected the diplomats, just as New York City's police force protects the missions of the U.N., albeit with some federal monies. Only in Washington do federal patrol cars drive past boutiques with names like Toast and Strawberries and in neighborhoods like Kalorama where the officers of the Secret Service's Uniformed Division are ubiquitous and where a townhouse runs "$700,000 and up to a lot of million, maybe five," according to Jill Denton, a Washington, D.C. realtor.

As you might expect, other neighborhoods in Washington are a wee bit more boisterous. Drug wars in the worst neighborhoods have pushed the...