The views expressed in this blog are mine, all mine and don't necessarily reflect those of the Police Service!
I hope that you wont be offended by anything I say, because no offence was intended.

Tuesday 26 February 2008

I know I shouldn't, but.....

I remember when I joined this job, someone saying, “be prepared for the unexpected”.

It was just gone 1am on a cool Autum night, when we had a call to attend a domestic burglary. “Bastards”, I thought. It’s bad enough being burgled during the day, but at night time, it can be traumatic, to even the strongest person.
We arrived at the scene within minutes. It was a semi-detached bungalow. We had a quick check around the garden but nothing untoward. I knocked on the door. It was answered by an elderly man.
“Hello. It’s the Police Ethel” he said, whilst looking over his shoulder towards the living room.
“Well, let them in then” said a female voice.
“Hello” I said, “We’ve come about the burglary”.
“Eh”.
“Did you phone us about a burglary?” I asked.
“Yes, that’s right”.

We were shown into the living room, where an elderly lady was sat, knitting away, with a cat curled up by her feet. It had the ‘normal’ smells of an old person’s house! Nothing appeared disturbed.

“What’s been taken?” I asked.
“Clothes” replied the old man.
That’s unusual, I thought. “Where from?”
The man shuffled into the hallway and pointed to the loft hatch.
“How did they get in there?” I asked.
“I’ll show you” he replied and shuffled outside into the rear garden.

It was pitch dark outside. The old man pointed to the roof and said “There”. I shone my torch but the roof was as it should be.
“Where” I said.
“There. Between the gaps in the tiles” he said. I stifled a giggle.

We went back inside. I pretended to write something in my pocket book, desperately avoiding eye contact with my colleague.
“I know who did it” said the old man. “It was Danny Jarvis”. This was a name of a local thief.
“Oh yes” I said, “What makes you think it was him?”
“I’m psychic” he replied.

That was it. I could control myself no longer. I began to giggle. I made my excuses and went outside. I started to laugh uncontrollably, with tears streaming down my face. Not very professional, I know but I couldn’t help myself.

Fair play, to my colleague. He managed to get sufficient details from the couple, for us to make a report to Social Services.

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