Book cover of Badges of Trust and Treachery: a young Officer Robert Kalvitz stands at a graffiti-covered wall beside East Cleveland police car 3121
EAST CLEVELAND HOMICIDE

BADGES OF TRUSTAND TREACHERY

A Homicide Detective's Final Case—His Own

FORTHCOMING

Almost two decades among the dead and the dangerous.

What happens when a system you've trusted for a lifetime decides that you're disposable? What does it take to fight back?

For almost two decades, Robert (Bobby) Kalvitz worked in law enforcement in and around East Cleveland, investigating close to 90 homicides along with armed robberies, home invasions, gang activity, rapes, stabbings, and shootings.

His cases included the investigation that led to the first arrest of Anthony Sowell, years before Sowell became known as one of Ohio's most notorious killers, and the murder of Cleveland doo-wop singer Robert "Bocky" DiPasquale of Bocky and the Visions.

SOURCE: State of Ohio v. Anthony Sowell, Cuyahoga County Court of Common Pleas, No. CR-89-244471-ZA  ·  "Killing of 'Bocky' baffles family," The Plain Dealer, Feb. 23, 1988, p. 12

Then the system he had served turned on him.

Badges of Trust and Treachery is Kalvitz's account of a career spent facing killers, corruption, and the wreckage both leave behind. And it is the true story of the case Kalvitz never saw coming. His own.

Every rookie learns about Mapp versus Ohio in the academy. Years later, off duty, I was spending time in an after-hours spot run by Mattie Mapp — sister of the woman behind that case. That chapter of my life ended the night she was murdered.

SOURCE: "Cheat spot operator is found slain," The Plain Dealer, April 13, 1988, p. 31

About the author

Robert P. Kalvitz in East Cleveland Police Department uniform, early in his career THEN
Robert P. Kalvitz, department portrait from his years as a homicide detective DETECTIVE
Robert P. Kalvitz today, wearing an East Cleveland Barbell Club shirt NOW
Robert P. Kalvitz
East Cleveland Police patch EAST CLEVELAND POLICE DEPT. · RETIRED

Robert P. Kalvitz grew up around family members like his cousin, alleged organized-crime figure Richard "Dicky" Viccarone — and broke that generational path to become a decorated detective respected in both worlds. He spent almost two decades investigating close to ninety homicides and hundreds of other violent felonies in East Cleveland, Ohio, during one of the most violent periods in the city's history. After retiring from the force, he spent several years in Tortorici, a small town in Sicily's Nebrodi Mountains long controlled by the Clan di Tortorici, the Mafia organization that carries the town's name — reconnecting with his Italian heritage and finding a rare peace there — before returning home to nearly lose his life at the hands of the very brothers in blue he'd once called his own. Badges of Trust and Treachery is his first book.

East Cleveland city limits sign, with the bullet-riddled stop sign ghosted in the background EAST CLEVELAND CITY LIMITS
Robert Kalvitz's 64th Basic Police School class, March-May 1980, with a red arrow marking him in formation 64TH BASIC POLICE SCHOOL · MARCH–MAY 1980

A daily reminder, not a memory.

The display case was already there when Kalvitz was hired — badges of officers who never made it home, mounted as a quiet, daily reminder of what the job could cost. One name in the case wasn't just history to him: Patrolman Richard Miller, killed by gunfire in 1973. Kalvitz went on to work alongside men who had partnered with Miller himself — the case wasn't abstract to them, and it wasn't abstract to him.

Lt. David G. LymanEOW APRIL 23, 1914 · STRUCK BY TRAIN
Det. Patrick GaffneyEOW DECEMBER 25, 1918 · GUNFIRE
Det. Lewis A. HauschildEOW SEPTEMBER 22, 1945 · VEHICULAR ASSAULT
Patrolman Richard MillerEOW JANUARY 11, 1973 · GUNFIRE

SOURCE: Officer Down Memorial Page, East Cleveland Police Department

Before the badge.

A raffle ticket won from a classmate got a young Robert Kalvitz into a showing of Billy Jack at the Fairview Theater — and into six months of free lessons at a martial arts school in Fairview Park that came bundled with the ticket.

He stayed for years, moving on to Ohio Judo & Karate in nearby Lakewood. Instructor Sang Oh Moon taught at both schools, and Kalvitz trained under him at each, eventually competing in tournaments Moon hosted.

It was on that same mat — across both schools — that he met a fellow student, Deputy Sheriff David Carr. Carr knew Kalvitz's family, and he knew exactly which direction the streets were pulling him. He introduced Kalvitz to law enforcement instead — a decision that would define the next four decades of Kalvitz's life. More than fifty years later, Carr is godfather to one of Kalvitz's twin daughters, and the two men still speak every week.

Robert P. Kalvitz and fellow recruits raising their right hands as they are sworn in at East Cleveland Municipal Court SWORN IN · EAST CLEVELAND MUNICIPAL COURT

Moon operated within a tight circle of Korean masters who shaped the Midwest's martial arts scene through the 1960s and '70s — figures like Il Joo Kim in Akron and Kyong Won Ahn in Cincinnati — frequently judging and cross-training students at regional tournaments to keep standards consistent across schools. His decades of contribution to Cleveland's martial arts community were formally recognized in 2021, when he was inducted into the Cleveland Martial Arts Hall of Fame.

SOURCE: Cleveland Martial Arts Hall of Fame, 2021 Inductees

Robert Kalvitz's 1975 portrait in a gilt frame, draped with a rosary, a religious medal and a scapular, with holy cards tucked against the glass, as his mother arranged it
HIS MOTHER'S PICTURE FRAME · 1975 TO 2022
STILL IN HIS HOME TODAY

A mother's prayers.

The photograph was taken in 1975. As a young teenager, he had relatives on the other side of the law, and that life was never far away. His mother framed the photograph and began praying over it, first that her son would stay away from that life, and then, once he was sworn in, for his safety.

Over the years she kept adding to the frame: a medal, a scapular, a rosary, holy cards, one devotion at a time, as her son went further into the work that could have cost him his life. She lived with him until her passing in 2022, at ninety-three. The frame still stands in his home today, just as she left it. None of his siblings' photographs carry as much. She knew which of her children needed it most.

Anyone raised by an Italian mother knows what that picture frame means. Her love has no limits, her protection never takes a day off, and her prayers don't stop just because her son has grown up and put on a badge. When he walked into a room, when he did something good, even when he did something wrong, the same words would come out of her, half under her breath, meant more for herself than for him:

“È proprio il mio Bobby!”

That's alright, that's my Bobby.

On May 17, 2014, her prayers would be put to the test.
Robert P. Kalvitz's City of East Cleveland Department of Police detective identification card DETECTIVE ID · APPOINTED APRIL 22, 1981
East Cleveland Police patrol division badge, badge number 26, carried by Robert Kalvitz PATROL DIVISION · BADGE 26
East Cleveland Police detective bureau badge carried by Robert Kalvitz DETECTIVE BUREAU
A cop's worst enemy is another cop. You expect the bad guys to be the danger — not the ones wearing the same badge.

SOURCE: Kalvitz v. Randolph, Follmer & Kinas, No. 17-4174 (6th Cir. 2019)

Three accounts of one night.

EXHIBIT A · WHAT WAS REPORTED

“Retired East Cleveland officer pulls knife, threatens Detroit officer at Cleveland union hall, police said… NO INJURIES WERE REPORTED.”

“The East Cleveland officer was detained briefly but then taken to a nearby hospital for non-serious, health-related issues.”

SOURCE: cleveland.com, “Retired East Cleveland officer pulls knife, threatens Detroit officer at Cleveland union hall, police said,” June 2014

EXHIBIT B · WHAT THE PHOTOGRAPHS SHOW
Close-up photograph of Robert Kalvitz's severely bloodshot and bruised eyes following the May 2014 incident
Torn boxer shorts, scuffed dress shoes, and torn jeans belonging to Robert Kalvitz following the incident
KALVITZ'S CLOTHING FOLLOWING THE INCIDENT
Close-up of Robert Kalvitz's jacket, sprayed with blood, which he says he was carrying by the collar rather than wearing
KALVITZ'S JACKET — BY HIS ACCOUNT, CARRIED, NOT WORN, AT THE TIME
Close-up photograph of severe bruising on Robert Kalvitz's torso, later diagnosed as broken ribs and a bruised liver
BROKEN RIBS & BRUISED LIVER · DIAGNOSED FOLLOWING THE INCIDENT
Photograph of Robert Kalvitz's bruised and cut legs following the incident
KALVITZ'S LEGS · PHOTOGRAPHED AT HOME, THE NEXT DAY
Photograph taken at the hospital showing handcuff markings on Robert Kalvitz's wrist, with a pulse oximeter and IV line visible
MARKINGS FROM STEEL HANDCUFFS · PHOTOGRAPHED AT THE HOSPITAL, HOURS AFTER THE INCIDENT
EXHIBIT C · WHAT THE FEDERAL RECORD ESTABLISHED

Kalvitz says he did not fight back. Kinas and Randolph beat, struck, and kicked him while he was on the ground. All three officers then handcuffed him, threw him into a concrete wall, and onto the ground — leaving him with a head injury, a broken cheekbone, and broken ribs. The officers' only claim that Kalvitz had a knife came from what they said they heard after the beating had already happened — a detail the Sixth Circuit U.S. Court of Appeals found could not justify the force used against him.

SOURCE: Kalvitz v. Randolph, Follmer & Kinas, No. 17-4174 (6th Cir. 2019)

WHAT WAS NEVER LOGGED

Kalvitz says a gold FOP pin — screw-back, not clasp, meaning it could not have simply fallen off — and a Gucci wristwatch went missing from him that night. Neither item was ever returned, and neither ever appeared on any police evidence log. In the aftermath, Kalvitz posted publicly asking if anyone had information on their whereabouts. The silence in the department's own paperwork was never explained.

Robert Kalvitz's gold FOP pin and Gucci wristwatch, both missing since the night of the incident
KALVITZ'S PERSONAL PROPERTY · MISSING SINCE THAT NIGHT
GOLD FOP PIN & GUCCI WRISTWATCH · WHEREABOUTS UNKNOWN

Anyone with information about these items is asked to get in touch. You may remain anonymous.

The record speaks for itself.

Not every call was about violence.

On patrol in East Cleveland with his partner, Ines Ventura Jr., Kalvitz found a dog trapped in a concrete fence — stuck for days, its back legs having dug a hole nearly ten inches deep trying to scoot itself free. The two officers crossed the street to a gas station for motor oil, worked it in around the dog's head, and after a few hard pulls backward, it popped loose. Before it ran off, it stopped, turned, and looked back at him. Kalvitz still remembers that look as something like a thank you.

A dog Robert Kalvitz and his partner freed after it became trapped in a concrete fence in East Cleveland EAST CLEVELAND · ONE OF THE CALLS THAT WASN'T A CASE FILE

Kalvitz has his own way of summing up the range of a shift in East Cleveland: bad checks to murder. This was one of the calls in between — the kind that never made a report, but stayed with him anyway.

Decades later, the world Kalvitz policed hasn't gone anywhere.

#2 HIGHEST VIOLENT CRIME RATE IN OHIO — RIGHT NOW

East Cleveland's violent crime rate today trails only Cleveland itself among Ohio cities, and its overall crime rate is higher than 98 percent of all communities in the state.

SOURCE: FBI Uniform Crime Reporting data, 2024, via SafeHome.org and NeighborhoodScout

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