Tactical officers, guns drawn, crash through doors of a low-rent dwelling, followed by narcotics detectives who fan out to search for drugs and guns.

Cut to two coppers standing alone in a room.

“Let’s do it,” says one, before they flip the mattress, exchange a complicit glance, and stuff a bundle of bills behind their bulletproof vests.

Drug-related police corruption has long provided rich fodder for Hollywood, whether this scene from the acclaimed TV series The Wire , or the movie Serpico , the true story of an honest drug cop from the 1970s who fought rampant dishonesty in the New York City Police Department, or the portrayal by Denzel Washington of a rogue Los Angeles narcotics officer in 2001’s Training Day .

There’s been plenty of real-life inspiration. No major North American city has been immune to police corruption, though the size of the problem has been debatable. The subject has been brought to the fore again by the just-completed trial of former Toronto police drug officers. The case is now in the hands of a jury.

Numerous studies and reports have drawn the inescapable conclusion that the enforcement of laws against vice — including prostitution and gambling — create an environment ripe for police corruption.

But nothing in the last 40 years has created greater opportunities for the crooked cop than the seemingly endless supply of illicit drugs and the people willing to sell them.

“Drug enforcement often exposes police officers to large amounts of cash and drugs held by individuals who are not likely to complain about illegal police behaviour,” said a 1998 U.S. federal government report on drug-related corruption.

“The opportunity is huge, massive,” agrees Rick Chase. He should know. In 2009, he retired from the Toronto Police Service after nearly 33 years — 24 of them on the drug squad, the last dozen as a detective with the major project section. He figures he had a hand in executing about 5,000 search warrants, including one haul of $1.2 million in cash and 22 kilograms of cocaine.

He doesn’t leap aboard an ethical high horse to explain why he was never tempted.

“For me to dip in, I’d have to make it worth my while and the chances are so great of getting caught. . . I didn’t want to do time.”

If or when there is corruption, Chase attributes it to the odd, renegade uniform officer, not a member of a drug team. “If somebody’s dirty, others will find out pretty quick.”

Walter McKay, an ex-cop who once patrolled Vancouver’s gritty east side, doesn’t think today’s well-paid Canadian cops are as susceptible to corruption as they might have been 50 or 60 years ago. But he understands the self-justifying reasons one might succumb to temptation.

“Who’s to know,” goes the thinking, says McKay, now a security consultant based in Mexico City and a member of Law Enforcement Against Prohibition , which supports legalized regulation of drugs.

“What happens is there’s, say, $10,000 in cash from a room and it’s just you and your partner there, and the bad guys, or no bad guys, so did you actually seize $10,000 or was it $8,500?”

As the U.S. drug-related report noted, most dope dealers stay mum when money goes missing. “There’s no way to prove it. It’s a decorated cop versus a street criminal,” says Toronto defence lawyer John Struthers.

Regardless, Struthers blames one culprit for any past and future scandals.

“The war on drugs corrupts everyone and everything. It corrupted Mexico, it corrupted the United States, it’s corrupting Canada because there’s so much money and there is so much demand for drugs,” he says.

“We’ve caused the corruption,” concurs defence lawyer Reid Rusonik.

“Zealous officers determined to enforce the drug laws will, over time, realize it’s an unwinnable, stupid war. They become bitter and frustrated and figure they are justified rewarding themselves and rationalize the thievery.”

Chase acknowledges that, despite his love of the work, he did grow cynical for many reasons, including the knowledge that “you’re not making a dent” in the drug supply.

But there were significant perks: job satisfaction and a good paycheque.

“I loved getting up going to work,” he said, whether it was cultivating informants, or being immersed in the criminal subculture as an undercover operative.

Loading... Loading... Loading... Loading... Loading... Loading...

“We called them plays. We’re all actors in a play,” says Chase, 57, who runs his own Toronto-area security and investigation company.

Back in the day , Chase was accustomed to allegations of cops pinching drugs and cash, and he is not surprised to hear defence lawyers still making these claims.

“It’s as regular as heartbeats,” agrees Rusonik, who has practised for more than 20 years. He accepts that dealers are being ripped off, saying they tell him there is “nothing to gain” by accusing police and they are powerless to do anything about it.

“Week in, week out, how do you see that kind of cash and not be tempted? You’d have to be Eliot Ness,” he says, referring to the legendary American anti-corruption crusader from the 1930s.

Leora Shemesh, another defence lawyer, represents a drug dealer who alleges Peel Regional Police drug squad officers helped themselves to $80,000, a PlayStation and flat-screen TV.

Her client didn’t make an official complaint because “who was going to believe him anyway,” she says, since he had no record of the money.

The Peel force’s internal affairs department is investigating the yet-unproven allegations.

Toronto Police Association president Mike McCormack dismisses claims against police made by drug dealers.

“People are going to make allegations to help their defence . . . the best offence is a good defence,” he says.

The primary responsibility for battling police corruption within the Toronto Police Service falls to Professional Standards, Criminal and Conduct Investigations, a unit of about 40 employees once known as internal affairs.

It has introduced an “early warning” computer system that tracks information on officers and detects unusual trends or patterns of “high-risk behavioural factors.”

An “anti-corruption” team investigates complaints against officers — whether criminal or conduct related — which includes surveillance and wiretaps.

Despite the elaborate safeguards and consequences involving corruption, McCormack prefers to think cops today simply would not want to sacrifice their positions.