A convicted felon shot and killed by Dallas police SWAT officers Wednesday night had been serving as part of the security detail for U.S. Rep. Jasmine Crockett, sources told CBS News Texas. The man, identified as 39-year-old Diamon-Mazairre Robinson, had been publicly operating under the alias "Mike King" while running a business that placed officers in off-duty jobs.
Robinson was killed after a standoff in a hospital parking garage. He was also wanted for impersonating a law enforcement officer and was the subject of a federal investigation, according to sources.
Documents obtained by CBS News Texas show Crockett paid a person named Mike King for "security services" as recently as last year. One payment was for $340. Images obtained by the outlet show Robinson standing close to Crockett at events and on the campaign trail during her recent run for a U.S. Senate seat.
It remains unclear how he was hired and how much he was earning.
Robinson's background was not exactly buried. Between 2009 and 2012, he racked up seven arrests for theft across Dallas, Duncanville, Irving, Dallas County, and by the Texas Department of Public Safety. The charges included both misdemeanors and felonies. He pleaded guilty to all of them, receiving fines of no more than $2,500 and sentences of probation ranging from one to five years, with one case carrying a ten-year probation term.
None of this, apparently, prevented him from building a security operation that placed him next to a sitting member of Congress.
Sources said Robinson oversaw teams of security officers at several downtown Dallas hotels and at his church. Law enforcement sources said he drove a replica undercover police vehicle and used license plates stolen from cars outside a military recruiting office. Officers told CBS News Texas he claimed to be a detective with the U.S. Capitol Police.
He was also using his law enforcement officer placement service to promote security jobs for the upcoming FIFA World Cup games in the Dallas-Fort Worth area, advertising a rate of $90 an hour.
Crockett's staff is declining to comment at this time.
The wall of silence is notable. A convicted felon with a documented history of theft, a pattern of impersonating law enforcement, and an active federal investigation managed to embed himself in the security apparatus of a United States congresswoman.
Someone, somewhere, failed to run the most basic check. Or they ran it and didn't care.
This is not a story about one bad actor slipping through the cracks. It is a story about how many cracks had to exist for him to slip through all of them. Robinson was not operating in the shadows. He was:
All of this while carrying seven theft convictions and operating under a false name.
Members of Congress are entrusted with sensitive information, attend classified briefings, and represent the authority of the federal government. The people standing next to them with earpieces and sidearms are supposed to be vetted. The entire point of a security detail is trust. If the person guarding you is a fugitive from a federal investigation, the word "security" loses all meaning.
Crockett, a Democrat representing Texas's 30th Congressional District, was in the middle of a U.S. Senate campaign when Robinson appeared alongside her at events. The political ambition is relevant because campaigns expand staffing quickly, often with less oversight than official congressional operations. That environment is exactly where a con artist thrives.
But the timeline suggests this was not a last-minute campaign hire. Payments to "Mike King" for security services stretch back to at least last year. This was an ongoing arrangement, not a one-off contract brought on by the chaos of a Senate race.
The question for Crockett is straightforward: Who vetted this man? What process was followed? And if no process existed, why was a convicted felon with a history of impersonating police officers allowed anywhere near a federal officeholder?
Her office's decision to wait for "more information" is not an answer. It is a delay. The facts already reported are damning enough to demand a public accounting.
Robinson is dead. The federal investigation into his activities will likely wind down or shift focus. But the institutional failure that allowed him to operate remains very much alive. A man with seven convictions, stolen license plates, a fake identity, and a replica police cruiser was collecting checks from a congresswoman and standing at her shoulder in public.
Nobody caught it. Or nobody wanted to.
