Back in 1994, former Baltimore Sun reporter David Simon wrote about the city police department in decline. He noted cuts to the budget and detective units, describing how the robbery unit transferred cop after cop into homicide as the murder count grew. Then bank robberies went out of control, and the department filled that unit with cops from sex offense, leaving one detective to follow up on more than 300 sexual assaults each year:

"Detective Dorothea Parker then went to her commander, Capt. John J. MacGillavery, telling him the situation was ridiculous, according to department sources. With a new case every workday, she had no time to interview victims or witnesses, no time to show suspect photos or identify a pattern of crimes. Women were being raped, and nothing was being done.

    The captain agreed but could offer no immediate help.

    'I guess you'll have to put on your roller skates,' he reportedly told her."

Today's story by Baltimore Sun police reporter Justin Fenton reminded me of that old account. The city police department is not in such dire straits anymore, but it does show that the fight over crime and budgets is not new, and using fear to stake out a position is as old as government itself.

Former Mayor Kurt L. Schmoke and his commissioner, Thomas C. Frazier, battled the police union continuously, arguing about money and crime strategy and low salaries for officers. The police union always argued (and still does) that budget cuts put the public at risk; the city always argued (and still does) that smart policing doesn't need unchecked overtime.

They're both right. In 1998 and 1999, police woke up in December and suddenly realized that homicides were out of control. They took every available cop and put them all in the Eastern District, typically the most dangerous area of the city. The first year it was a haphazard mess, cops everywhere but no supervision or direction. A body fell even as the police commissioner patrolled and noted that there were so many cops on the street they were bumping into each other. The next year, they tried the same thing, and one commander complained the previous year's effort lacked a plan. Both were seen for exactly what they were: a last ditch effort by a desperate department trying to get the numbers down.

Commissioner Frederick H. Bealefeld the III told Fenton the obvious -- "there isn't an unlimited pot of money" -- but also something else, that police don't have "a blanket policy where I just flood the streets indiscriminately with overtime."

This is consistent with the city's policing strategy of targeting the most violent criminals and getting them off the streets. Simply flooding a neighborhood with cops isn't a sound strategy -- it never worked before, and I give Bealefeld credit for sticking with his plan even after a month in which 31 people were killed in 30 days.

But there's also something in what the police union president, Robert F. Cherry said: "You're lying to the public if you say we're attacking all forms of crime, and you're lying if you say the budget cuts have no effect."

There are simply things you can't do without overtime or after a cut in your basic operating budget. One might be the community services unit, which provides vital outreach to at-risk kids and is part of the mayor's effort to restore community policing. Another might be sending detectives out to walk foot patrols. One we've already seen -- the marine unit shut down, at least for the winter, and its cops checking bags of visitors at City Hall.

The commissioner is right in that smart policing, not more policing, can be effective in curtailing violent crime. The union head also is right in that the budget cuts mean we're getting less, not more, out of our police department.

The public deserves a full accounting from both sides -- here's what we can't do anymore from City Hall; here's what it really means from the union. Otherwise, we're just stuck with the rhetoric and the citizens are left to wonder what its cops are really doing to keep them safe.