According to the three artists, the first officer, whom Yates now calls " the aggressor, " spotted the 20 photographs nestled in Mendonco's purse, which was lying open beside the booth. He grabbed the stack out of her bag - a move that could be considered an illegal seizure, according to civil-liberties attorneys. After that, Mendonco says, the officer said he needed to see the pictures. He then warned the trio that if he found a naked photo, he would arrest them all.

Flipping through the stack, the officer held up the photograph of Yates in the makeshift body bag. A flush of anger swept across his face, Yates recalls. " The officer screamed, 'You fucking pervert! You're naked in a photo booth.' He told me to get my hands up. He said, 'You're under arrest for public indecency.' "

At this point, according to Rule 400, these officers should have immediately called Boston Police to take over at the scene. Special officers have the power to detain someone, but cannot take a prisoner into custody or book an arrest.

But that's not what happened. Yates says he tried to explain that he is a photo-booth photographer, that he had taken the naked picture for artistic purposes - for himself only.

According to Yates, the officer ordered him to shut up and again called him a " fucking pervert. " The officer was getting angrier and angrier. He leaned into Yates, who says the officer then shouted: There are fucking kids in here. I have three kids, and if I were here with them ...

Yates says he explained to the officer that he wasn't doing anything with children, but that the officer had one general response: " Shut up, pervert. "

It wasn't until the second officer approached - and calmly yet forcefully stated, " I have kids too " - that Yates became frightened. He could no longer see Mendonco and Foley, he says, nor could he see the crowd that they say had gathered around the booth. All he could see was the red, taut faces of these two officers, who he says kept repeating the same things: You fucking pervert. There are kids in here. I have kids.

To Yates their reaction seemed irrational, oddly personal: " These guys weren't just trying to scare me. They got so frustrated over the image of a naked man. To me, they weren't cops anymore. They were goons, bullies. "

The officers' response also startled Foley, who says she and Mendonco were scolded for associating with " a disgusting pervert " and ordered off the premises. " They were shaking, they were so angry, " she says. " I was blown away. "

Mendonco, too, was confounded. Nearly three years earlier, she had gotten into trouble with an officer at Boston Bowl when she and three friends had pretended to unbutton their pants for the camera. In that instance, however, the officer ordered them not to return to the bowling alley. After Mendonco appealed to Boston Bowl's Strazzula by showing him her portfolio of photo-booth pictures, she was allowed to return. Mendonco couldn't understand why these officers didn't just kick Yates off the property, as they had done with her. She observes, " Paul is a giant geek, but they were treating him like he was this creepy man. "

She adds, " These cops decided they were going to keep Paul to harass him. " She says she and Foley were under the impression that the special officers were Boston cops, and so it never occurred to either to call the police to end the harassment. She concludes, " They were deliberately torturing him - we figured that out almost right away. "

Indeed. It would be at least 20 minutes before the officers escorted Yates to his car to get his identification - presumably, to complete the arrest. But once outside, Yates endured another 20 minutes' worth of harassment, during which his physical well-being, even his life, was repeatedly threatened. Says Yates, " These officers kept saying things like 'If I have to take you to the station, I will drop you.' I don't know what 'dropping' means, but it doesn't sound good. " All told, about 45 minutes passed - each one full of profanities and threats - before the officers alerted the manager, Fabienski. " The manager said, 'You can't come in here and take naked pictures. There are kids here,' " Yates recalls. " I apologized. I kept saying, 'I'm sorry.' " Yates did not hear Fabienski ask the officers not to press charges, but he adds, " I got that impression. He said, 'Well, okay,' and walked back inside. " According to the police log, not one call from Boston Bowl was placed to the Boston Police Department that evening.

Eventually, the officers ordered Yates to " get the fuck out of here - now! " Interestingly, they told Yates that they were keeping the naked photograph they had grabbed out of Mendonco's purse as " evidence " for a future arrest if he, or his two friends, stepped inside Boston Bowl again.

According to Yates, the first officer then offered up one last threat. You're so fucking lucky, Yates recalls him saying. I don't care if you tell my superiors. If I ever see you again, I will drop you. Now, run!

The following day, Yates, of course, did try to complain to the officers' superiors - but couldn't even get his calls returned until his lawyer got involved. He now says he intends to file a complaint with the Boston Police Department. (The BPD Licensing Unit reports there were no official complaints filed against special officers at Boston Bowl last year. Figures for previous years were unavailable.) In the meantime, he's haunted by the experience. The encounter left him numb for hours afterward. His mind played like a broken record: he rehashed the events; he fixated on the officers' faces. " It was odd, " he says. After all, he had experienced run-ins with police officers before. Once, at 21, he'd even been detained by a cop while walking to his aunt's house in an affluent Connecticut suburb. He'd been wearing a kilt, and he knew the unspoken reason for his stop: his appearance. The cop later released Yates, yet the incident still agitated him.

But what happened February 21 seemed different. It's not as if Yates had expected the officers to be nice, or to appreciate his art. He did, however, expect them to behave like professionals. All told, Yates was completely nude for a grand total of about 20 seconds. No one else saw him. For this he was detained for 45 minutes and his life was threatened. The more Yates considered the evening's events, the more wrong the officers seemed to be.

As he puts it, " No one should be made to feel completely broken just for taking a naked picture in a photo booth. "

IN FACT, it's unclear whether Yates even broke the law that night. These officers may have believed that they could arrest him for public indecency. But Yates's account of what happened - which Mendonco and Foley both corroborate - suggests that such a charge would never stick. Boston attorney Joe Kocuibes, who does pro bono work for the American Civil Liberties Union, explains that just because Boston Bowl is a public place doesn't mean that Yates's actions constitute public indecency. For one thing, he says, an act must be out in the open - seen by other people - to be considered public. The charge also requires exposure of the genitalia and buttocks. In this case, however, Yates got naked in a private booth cordoned off not only by a curtain, but also by a garbage can and two friends. Adds Kocuibes, " Someone would have to explain to me what he did in public to begin with. "

Professional police officers also question whether these officers had enough factual evidence to charge Yates with public indecency. After all, no one - including the officers - appears to have actually witnessed the artist nude. One experienced Boston Police officer says, " He wasn't necessarily breaking the law. I don't think [the officers] had enough to charge him. "

Moreover, nudity doesn't necessarily amount to indecency - especially when there's a question of artistic expression. Consider the case of Spencer Tunick, the photographer known for taking elaborately posed photographs of hundreds of naked models in settings like Central Park, Times Square, and the Boston Public Library. In recent years, Tunick has been arrested five times in New York City for violating its public-nudity statute. Last year, he sued the administration - and won. A federal-appeals-court judge ordered the city to allow him to photograph because artistic expression, protected by the First Amendment, is exempt from public-nudity laws.

But if Yates's crime seems debatable, the officers' unprofessional conduct does not. Any reasonable officer, it seems, would have treated Yates differently. Jennifer Levi, of the Boston-based Gay and Lesbian Advocates and Defenders, points out that a " reasonable " officer would have arrested Yates - immediately, and without the intimidation and barrage of verbal assaults. Or he'd have warned the artist and told him to get lost. In short, she says, a reasonable officer knows that he has no right to abuse people, even those who break the law. " The whole situation sounds disturbing, " Levi says. " It is inappropriate law enforcement. "

Kocuibes of the ACLU agrees: " These officers did not have the right to verbally or otherwise abuse [Yates]. They sound like vigilante thugs to me. "

Even the Boston Police officer admits that these " specials, " as they're called, crossed the line. The officers' behavior, as he puts it, " flies in the face of our rules on reasonable treatment. " Most professional cops, he explains, know not to call a prisoner names, swear at him, and threaten him. " If this is what really happened, " he adds, " then they abused their power. "

Ultimately, the officer says, " these guys probably took what [Yates] did personally. They might be morally offended that he was in a photo booth taking a picture of his ass. " That would at least explain why these officers judged Yates a " pervert " and possible pedophile. The problem is that moral judgment doesn't fall under any officer's job description - and for good reason. Observes Levi, " We trust law enforcement to act consistent[ly] with the law. We don't want renegade posses that impose their moral judgment on people. "

That, of course, speaks to why these officers' special status is so bothersome. Lieutenant Paul Corboy, the supervisor of the BPD Licensing Unit, defends the practice of having beefed-up private security guards in the city. " The Boston Police Department cannot assign people to patrol private property, " he says. Yet establishments such as theaters and sports facilities often want police around for crowd control. Rather than hire a Boston cop on detail, many of them employ their own guards - and have them licensed largely because of accountability issues. Attests Corboy, " A special officer helps an owner when it comes to liability, [because] he has guards with some training. "

But there's still the risk of licensing rogue bullies. In the early 1990s, in fact, it didn't require much to become a special officer. According to one Boston Police officer who worked as a special in 1994, all he had to do to get his license was present an ID and a gun permit and take a 10-question test. In 1996, the city evidently wised up to the consequences of such loose requirements. Says the cop, " The city realized it had a bunch of yahoos with guns out there arresting people. "

Today, an applicant must undergo what Corboy calls " minimal training " before obtaining a license granting limited police powers. Special officers who carry guns need to complete 160 hours of BPD-certified instruction covering basic topics including first aid, constitutional law, and appropriate use of force. They must learn how to handle a firearm. They also take a 50-question written exam - the only aspect of training administered by the Boston Police - that tests their knowledge of their duties.

Though a special officer has to renew his license yearly, he does not have to enroll in another instructional course. Compare that to the requirements for a BPD officer, who must complete not only the six-month-long police academy, but also annual in-service training sessions. When asked if it's possible that specials are undertrained, Corboy replies, " I suppose it is. "

But he also maintains that the current procedures ensure against the specter of rent-a-cop thugs running roughshod over residents. People can file complaints against special officers with the BPD, which will investigate charges of misconduct. Violations may result in disciplinary action, including license suspension and revocation. States Corboy, " We should not have [special officers] out there if they don't conduct themselves according to our standards. That is why we have these regulations. "

Maybe so. But in the Yates case, the rules did not work. For all we know, this treatment could be a regular occurrence at Boston Bowl. Although no complaints have been filed in the last year with the Boston Police, the Boston cop who used to be a special says the guards who work at Boston Bowl are known within the special-officer community for being " overly aggressive dicks. " What if they had actually seen Yates naked in the photo booth? Or if they had found a gay man hugging his lover - or, for that matter, anyone else who falls outside societal norms?

In reality, what happened to Yates probably isn't an isolated incident. The public hears only about really bad instances of police misconduct. Remember the case of the bicycle messenger who got caught applying makeup in the men's bathroom at the former Jordan Marsh store downtown in the early 1990s? It was two special officers who encountered him: they tried to arrest him for disorderly conduct. By the time they were finished with the man, they had pushed open a swinging door with his face.

The Boston Bowl situation could be another disaster waiting to happen. And at the rate public space has been privatized over the past 20 years, who knows how common these situations are? Perhaps Yates sums up the implications best: " We cannot have an outside force with police powers that is accountable to no one. That's only a step away from fascism. "

Kristen Lombardi can be reached at klombardi[a]phx.com.