In a WVUE FOX 8 New Orleans video report, Rob Krieger opens with a number that sounds like a typo until he repeats it: $245,903. That’s what the New Orleans Police Department’s highest overtime earner was paid overall in 2024, nearly a quarter-million dollars tied to one officer, Sergeant Henry Burke.
Krieger points out why the figure lands like a punch. Burke’s regular salary as an NOPD sergeant is just over $83,000, yet payroll records show he “rang up more in overtime than his base salary,” collecting about $121,000 in overtime pay on top of everything else.
And Krieger makes it clear this isn’t just a single outlier. He reports that in 2024, 23 NOPD officers collected more in overtime than their base salary, with many of them described as senior officers.
If you’re a taxpayer, it’s hard not to hear those numbers and immediately ask one question: what exactly was the city buying with all those extra hours?
“Follow The Money”: The Watchdog’s Red Flags
Krieger brings in Skip Gallagher, a forensic scientist and longtime NOPD overtime watchdog, who says the path to answers is simple: “Follow the money.”
Gallagher tells Krieger that when officers start clearing totals like $160,000, $180,000, and especially $200,000, it’s “extremely difficult” to get there without something unusual going on. He says the pay records “scream” that some people could be padding their timesheets.
That’s a loaded claim, and it’s also the kind of thing that demands proof, not vibes. So Krieger’s report doesn’t just lean on suspicion or spreadsheet shock.
It moves into what will make any viewer sit forward: undercover cameras placed to see whether claimed work hours matched real-world movement.
The Hidden Camera Timeline: Sergeant Henry Burke
Krieger walks viewers through several days where he says FOX 8’s undercover footage appears to conflict with Burke’s timesheets.
On July 13, Krieger reports that the undercover camera captured Burke getting into a vehicle at 2:54 p.m. and driving away a minute later. But Burke’s timesheet that day indicated he clocked in at 2:30 p.m., nearly a half-hour earlier.
Krieger adds an extra detail that matters for context. Burke lives outside Orleans Parish, and Krieger says a typical trip from Burke’s home to his NOPD station takes about 25 minutes.
That’s where the math starts to feel uncomfortable. If the shift started at 2:30, but the camera only shows him leaving home around 2:54, then the city might be paying for time that looks more like pre-work routine and commute than actual on-duty work.
Two days later, Krieger says the camera captured Burke returning home at 6:54 a.m., which was six minutes before he clocked out. And on July 16, Krieger reports Burke left home at 3:02 p.m., more than 30 minutes after clocking in.
Then Krieger jumps to September 24, where he says the camera showed Burke loading a K9 into a vehicle and pulling off around 2:55 p.m., again nearly a half-hour after a recorded clock-in time, with that same 25-minute drive still sitting between his driveway and the district.
None of this is proof, by itself, that an officer wasn’t working in some legitimate way. But Krieger’s point is that the city payroll system appears to allow a dangerous gray zone where “on the clock” and “at home” overlap more than they should.
And when that overlap becomes routine, it stops looking like a mistake and starts looking like a method.
What “Off The Clock” Means, According To The Chief
Krieger doesn’t leave the question of policy vague. He includes a key exchange with NOPD Chief Anne Kirkpatrick, because the dispute isn’t just moral – it’s procedural.
Krieger asks what counts as an officer being off the clock. Is it when they arrive home, or when they leave the work location?
Kirkpatrick answers clearly in Krieger’s report: when officers leave, “their duty hour has come to an end.” They’re off duty, and if they have take-home vehicles, they drive home—but they are not on duty while they’re driving home.
That statement matters because it frames the hidden-camera footage in a sharper light. If commuting home isn’t work, then paying for commuting time is hard to justify.
It also matters because it puts a simple standard on the table. If the standard is “work time is work time,” then an audit becomes a lot less philosophical and a lot more factual.
Brandon Coleman And The 16-Hour Days
Krieger’s report then turns to another name: senior police officer Brandon Coleman, who, Krieger says, nearly tripled his base salary with overtime.
Krieger reports Coleman’s base pay was around $64,000, yet he collected more than $217,000 overall. The standout detail is how Coleman’s overtime is described: according to payroll records Krieger cites, Coleman claimed to work 16 hours or longer on 146 different days in one year.
That’s the kind of schedule that would burn out most people fast. It also raises the question Gallagher keeps pressing in Krieger’s story: what was the city getting for its money?
Krieger points to July 22 as an example. Coleman’s initial timesheet indicated a 16-plus-hour shift from 6:25 a.m. to 11 p.m., but Krieger says the camera didn’t show him getting into his unit until 10:08 a.m., hours after the clock-in.
Krieger reports a similar issue the next day, July 23, where Coleman’s timesheet again claimed a long shift starting at 6:25 a.m., but video showed him leaving home at 8:11 a.m.
Then there’s the moment that almost sounds like a scene from a movie: on July 28, Krieger reports Coleman discovered the undercover camera.
If a person finds a hidden camera watching their driveway, most people would expect behavior to change immediately. Krieger says the next day, July 29, Coleman clocked in at 6:25 a.m. but didn’t leave home until 7:41 a.m., and later returned around 6:37 p.m. even though he didn’t clock out until 7:00 p.m.
Krieger adds that the next day looked similar: clocked in at 6:25, but leaving home at 7:48 a.m.
That’s the part that feels especially hard to explain away as simple error. Once someone knows they’re being watched, repeating the same timing pattern starts to look less like carelessness and more like confidence that the system won’t catch up.
Political Pressure And A City Budget Reality Check
Krieger includes reaction from Mayor-elect Helena Moreno, who says the situation is “really disturbing,” especially with a city budget crisis where “every cent matters.”
Moreno tells Krieger there is “no room for abuse,” and any abuse that’s discovered has to be cut out. She also says she’s had conversations with Chief Kirkpatrick specifically about overtime and the possibility of abuse, and she directed the chief to eliminate any type of overtime abuse.
This is where the story gets bigger than two officers. It becomes a public trust issue in a city where people expect public safety resources to be used carefully, not casually.
And it also becomes a morale issue. If honest officers see a few people bending the rules and getting rewarded, it can poison the culture fast.
Krieger includes City Councilmember Joe Giarrusso, who argues that a “clean payroll” is essential so good officers aren’t driven away. Giarrusso warns that focusing only on numbers misses the morale effect, and he flags the danger of a “they’re getting away with it, so I’ll start doing it” mindset spreading.
That’s the kind of infection that can quietly wreck a department. You don’t need everyone cheating – just enough people doing it openly that the honest ones feel foolish for playing it straight.
Audits, Accountability, And The Part Everyone Is Waiting For
Krieger reports that Chief Kirkpatrick says the Office of the Inspector General is auditing overtime across the department.
Kirkpatrick describes asking for a report, for names, and for clarity—saying it’s not a witch hunt, but a push to “close this out” and change how documentation works. She says she wants a “clean bill of health,” and also acknowledges a risk: if some people appear to get away with abuse, others may follow.
Krieger also reports that FOX 8 reached out to Burke and Coleman and both declined to comment. He says FOX 8 asked for an interview with Kirkpatrick specifically about the officers’ situations, but her communications team said she was out of town.
And Krieger ends with the Inspector General’s office saying its investigation is ongoing and it will continue to identify and mitigate fraud, waste, and/or abuse related to city payroll, including NOPD overtime policies, procedures, and usage.
Here’s the blunt reality: overtime is necessary in policing. Emergencies happen, staffing shortages happen, and crime doesn’t politely end at 5 p.m.
But Krieger’s reporting lays out why the public gets angry anyway. When overtime becomes a second salary, and when hidden cameras suggest some of those “worked hours” might include time spent at home, it doesn’t just look expensive. It looks disrespectful – to taxpayers, to honest officers, and to the people depending on the department.
If the audit is real and the standards are clear, this should be one of the easiest accountability tests in government: compare the paper record to the physical record, then act like the answer matters.
Ed spent his childhood in the backwoods of Maine, where harsh winters taught him the value of survival skills. With a background in bushcraft and off-grid living, Ed has honed his expertise in fire-making, hunting, and wild foraging. He writes from personal experience, sharing practical tips and hands-on techniques to thrive in any outdoor environment. Whether it’s primitive camping or full-scale survival, Ed’s advice is grounded in real-life challenges.
