By SARA FISHER

Staff Reporter

Every time a customer walks through the door of Royale Liquor after night falls, store owner Jim Suh scans for three things: a bulky jacket that could hide a weapon, a pair of sneakers with good traction, and a car parked across the street for a quick getaway.

If anyone scores a three on this test, Suh gets his gun.

Having run his Echo Park liquor store/mini-mart on a dilapidated block of Sunset Boulevard for almost a decade, Suh has weathered more crime than the average Angeleno experiences in a lifetime. From his post behind the cash register, he has seen his neighborhood gradually grow safer over the past several years, reflecting new data showing how crime has fallen citywide.

But it’s a different story after dark.

“Everything changes,” says the store owner, who regularly puts in an 80-hour work week to pay his lease. “By 7 p.m., the other merchants lock up and families go home. Then the strangers come and the problems come with them. It gets dangerous.”

One of Suh’s customers, 29-year-old Echo Park resident Sunny Venditta, says she feels a bit safer than she used to, but still won’t walk in the neighborhood after dusk.

“I don’t hear gunshots as much as I used to at night, so I guess it’s getting better,” Venditta said, as she bought a half-dozen lottery tickets.

LAPD statistics indicate as much. Suh’s neighborhood is on the northern border of the Rampart precinct, where robberies in 1998 fell 41 percent from 1996, and other violent crimes, which include assaults, homicides and rapes, declined 17 percent. Rampart consistently ranks among the top three precincts in the number of violent incidents.

A declining gang problem is considered a key reason behind the lower numbers. To deal with the gangs, police increased the number of gang units in Rampart from two to 10, stepped up foot and car patrols, and opened a substation on Echo Park Drive. A neighborhood watch program and a local merchants association also work to clean up the streets.

In addition, many veteran Echo Park-area gang members are either in jail or have settled down. That leaves mostly teen-aged gang-bangers on the streets.

But according to Suh, they are bad enough.

“The gangs come to my store all the time, but I won’t sell alcohol to them,” he said, pointing to a row of patched glass windows, damage left by disgruntled gang members. “They get upset, scream (profanities) and tell me they’ll kill me. I tell them, ‘Next time I’ll kill you.’ You have to be strong to do this business.”

Guns are Suh’s preferred method of protection, more effective than the store alarm system. He usually just brandishes his shotgun or one of his two handguns either to prevent thieves from moving until the police arrive, or to run them off his property. To keep his skills sharp, he practices at a shooting range about once a month with his son.

“They’re armed, so I need to be too,” he said. “I need to protect myself.”

The tactics apparently have worked. Suh says his store has not been successfully robbed for as many years as he can remember. But there have been numerous attempts.

In order to keep the area as hospitable as possible for his late-night customers, Suh not only protects his store but the strip-mall’s parking lot. From his vantage point, he can see the drug and prostitution deals go down outside, as well as the homeless drunks who nest by his store. Suh no longer calls the police every time he sees trouble. He simply runs off the troublemakers.

The neighborhood problems have influenced how he runs his store, which closes at 11 p.m. on weeknights and at midnight during the weekends. Only two other establishments nearby a bar and a fast-food restaurant stay open that late. Suh would like to remain open a couple of hours later for the extra business, but he refuses to put himself or his two assistants into any more danger.

“If I stay until 2 in the morning, no one will know if I get killed,” he said.

Suh wants out. But the only way he could do that would be to declare bankruptcy. He bought his business for about $400,000 in 1990. Now, he says it’s only worth roughly $200,000.

“I’m back to where I started, with empty hands,” said Suh, who emigrated with his wife from South Korea 27 years ago. “Life is a gamble, right? Things have gotten better around here over the last couple years. But now the community leaders and the police need to do even more.”