At first the two employees at the Roslindale gas station paid no attention to the man in the baseball hat and sunglasses.
But then he ordered one of the employees out of the shop, aimed a .40-caliber Glock at the terrified clerk behind the counter, and told him to drop to the floor.
Michael T. Jones, a 20-year veteran of the Boston Police Department, walked out that day with about $180 from the shop, police said. Thirty minutes later, he was arrested by fellow police officers about a block away from his parents' house in Dorchester.
Yesterday, Jones, handcuffed to a bed in Faulkner Hospital, where he is receiving treatment for heart palpitations and high blood pressure, was arraigned on several charges, including armed robbery and assault and battery with a dangerous weapon.
Jones, a father of two, gazed forlornly at a Suffolk County prosecutor as she described the attempted robbery last Friday afternoon that was another blow to a department reeling from the convictions of three officers on drug charges and other investigations into possible misconduct. A not-guilty plea was entered on behalf of Jones, who was held on $50,000 cash bail.
No one has been able to say why a veteran police officer risked his career to rob a gas station. His lawyer, Ken Anderson, said yesterday that Jones was drunk at the time of the robbery and had not been taking medication that helps him control his diabetes and hypertension. Anderson said Jones had recently moved back into his parents' house on Harvard Street to take care of his father, who has leukemia.
"Whatever happened that day is certainly an aberration," said Anderson, a lawyer with the Boston Police Patrolmen's Association.
At 3:50 p.m. last Friday, Jones, who was off duty, entered the store and walked behind the counter toward clerk George Makhoul, Assisistant District Attorney Gretchen Lundgren said.
Jones pulled his department-issued firearm from his waistband and pointed it at Makhoul, who looked carefully at him, trying to remember his face.
"He saw me looking at him, and he said get on the floor," Makhoul said by phone from the gas station yesterday. "He was very calm."
Jones cleaned out the register, Makhoul said, left the store, and ran into the station's mechanic, Alphonso Gray. He pointed his gun at Gray's side and demanded his money, Lundgren said.
When Gray told him he had none, Jones searched his pockets, pushed him, and left, Lundgren said. The employees then saw Jones drive up Albano Street in a gray Nissan Maxima. One employee memorized the plate number and told it to Makhoul, who by then was calling 911, Lundgren said.
Police caught up with Jones on Gleason Street in Dorchester. As he tried to get out of the car, officers ordered him back inside. Jones yelled that he was a policeman returning from Foxwoods, according to court documents. He was still wearing his gun. Inside the car, police found the sunglasses and the baseball hat.
The allegations against Jones disturbed officers, who described him as mild-mannered patrolman who worked well with neighborhood residents and teenagers.
"It's just sad," said one officer, who asked for anonymity because the Police Department does not allow its employees to speak without permission. "I'm kind of shocked."
In 1999, Jones was suspended for 30 days because of a domestic incident involving his wife, said Elaine Driscoll, spokeswoman for the department. She was unable to elaborate and said there were no other complaints against Jones.
In 2004, Jones resigned from the Police Department because of an injury, but was reinstated in 2006 and assigned to Hyde Park, Driscoll said.
In October, he had a car accident while off duty, and his captain assigned him to light desk work.
Makhoul, who said he has had trouble sleeping since the robbery, said police often check in on the store, which is open 24 hours a day. Until last Friday, he had never seen Jones.
"I've never been in that situation before," he said. "I was so scared."
A Boston University graduate with a degree in business, Makhoul said he had been thinking of opening his own business.
"First, I was thinking, like my dad, a gas station," he said, "but not anymore."
Maria Cramer can be reached at mcramer@globe.com.
