Saturday, August 26, 2006
Thats general, hitting his head against a brick wall.
The kid folded his arms, closed his eyes and stretched out his legs. He lifted the sides of his mouth in a smirk and looked at me with utter contempt.
"...anything you do say may be given in evidence...I'm going to check that you understand the caution by explaining it in simple terms.."
"you are fuckin boring me..I know the fuckin caution now just get on with it.."
"Ok. You were arrested in an alleyway near to a school, after police officers heard you arranging a drug deal on your mobile phone and then those same police officers followed you to this alleyway, saw you hand a package to the two other people waiting there and then receive bank notes in exchange and then when you were arrested, you were searched and found to be in possession of 10 deal bags of skunk and a package with about 500 ecstasy tablets inside, which was hidden in a pouch down your trousers. You had a dealers list in your pocket and £780 pounds in bank notes. This is due to the fact that you are a drug dealer. Please take this interview as an opportunity to give an explanation. Are you a drug dealer?..."
"No comment..." etc etc.
The smirking 26 year old casually unfolded his arms as we were sealing up the tapes and leant forward in his chair. "the problem with you boys is that you deal with the third division players. You will never get me because I'm premier league mate"
"hmmm. How is that then? Because when I went to your moms house to search it this morning, all I saw of your premier league was the smallest bedroom in the world at your moms house which you haven't left yet aged 26, a mattress in the corner with the entire contents of your wardrobe strewn around your bedroom floor which has never ever been washed. I found a foul smelling wet dog lying under a bloodstained towel thing which I assumed was your excuse for a quilt cover. Next to a carton of milk which had actually turned blue it had been there so long, I saw a love note from a bird called Leanne which said "please dont do any coke tonight because you can't get a hard on.." Yeah, really premier league mate, you fuckin knob"
Clicking his heels as he was bailed off, drug dealer boy smiled and winked at me as he walked out of the station front door. I flicked him a finger and said "say hello to your mom for me".
Thursday. 8am. Tea in my hand. Whistling as I walked down the cell corridoor.
Ha ha. The familiar black non-permanent marker on the custody whiteboard never ceases to bring a smile to my face. Drug dealer boy was in and had been since midnight the night before. I moved to the 'arrested for' section. Attempt theft of motor vehicle, assault police and resist arrest. Nice. I would be meeting premier league twat again for the second time in a week.
"sarge, the lad in cell 2, what's the circs of the arrest? I'll be dealing with him no doubt..."
"general. That kid is a prize plum. He got CS'd and face planted a couple of times whilst scrapping with the arresting bobbies..."
"shit. Who was it? are they hurt?"
"One was big Phil the farmer and the other was one of the girls on his shift, a girl who has transferred from another force called Kate. She's had a kick in the face, just bruising though, no cuts or scars, lucky for her. I think Phil the farmer made him see the error of his ways and then finished him off with some CS"
"cool. What about the theft of the car?"
"3 witnesses, all of whom pointed him out to the cops as they arrived at the scene as he was walking away. They saw him resist and assault Kate as well and have given statements."
"wicked. Call his brief please sarge and tell them to get on their way?"
"no problem general..."
I had him brought to me in one of the interview rooms after his consultation with his brief. He was wearing a fetching orange boiler suit and a black sock on one foot which smelled rank and a grey sock with a large hole in the toes. I could see black coloured grime around his big toe and the one next to it which made me instantly wish I hadn't looked. I couldn't resist it.
"nice boiler suit Guantanamo boy. Premier league fashion?"
"fuck you general I'm not even speaking to you. Get someone else in here, I ain't talking to you"
" I might as well tell you that my client will not be answering any of your questions during the interview, officer." said the defence solicitor.
"fine by me"
Tango suit boy was not a happy bunny. He still smelled of CS and I had to concentrate on stopping tears from falling from my eyes as the vapour filled the interview room. I had the familiar tingling in the back of my nose as it began to run. The knuckles on the back of his hands had large sore looking grazes and he had a four inch by one inch deep scabbed graze down his right cheek from his eybrow to his chin. He stunk of last nights intoxicants and vomit. He had a hangover and a headache. I, on the other hand, felt as fresh as a daisy. I had had an early night with the promise of some bedroom action from Mrs General, a great nights sleep, a cup of tea in bed in the morning and a nice hot shower. I had my favourite jeans on and my jumper smelled of persil and comfort. I was on top already.
"...Anything you do say may be given in evidence...I'm going to check that you understand the caution by explaining it in more simple terms"
"Look, I know the caution and what it means you fuckin wanker. Stop talking to me like I'm an idiot"
"OK. You were arrested last night after witnesses described seeing you smash the window of a VW golf parked on New rd, and picking up handfuls of CD's from within. You have glass all over your upper and lower body clothing a cut on your right hand and fresh drops of blood have been found inside the Golf. You were observed being stopped twenty feet away from the car by officers. 7 witnesses including four police officers have described you throwing several CD's onto the floor which have been identified by the owner of the golf as stolen. Were you responsible for the theft from this car?"
"no comment" etc. etc.
He did answer one question.
"why did you say to PC Phil the Farmer that you hoped his mother would die of cancer and as noted on your custody record, state that you would find out where he lived and have him shot dead?"
"because he's a wanker."
"you obviously now wish to comment, please tell me exactly what happened when you kicked this 19 year-old female police officer in the face?"
"no comment" etc. etc.
I would dearly love him to go all the way to crown court with this offence on a not guilty plea, just so that I can play the part of me, asking some great questions, when I read the interview transcripts to the judge and jury. The only trouble is, the entire system is weighted in favour of this pond life. Read some of the comments on this blog http://inspectorgadget.wordpress.com/ on the post entitled "the wolf who cried boy" and you will understand.
After being picked out on I.D parades by all witnesses, he was charged and I applied to the magistrates for a remand in custody. Guess what? Yep you guessed it.... UNCONDITIONAL BAIL!!!!
I give up.
"...anything you do say may be given in evidence...I'm going to check that you understand the caution by explaining it in simple terms.."
"you are fuckin boring me..I know the fuckin caution now just get on with it.."
"Ok. You were arrested in an alleyway near to a school, after police officers heard you arranging a drug deal on your mobile phone and then those same police officers followed you to this alleyway, saw you hand a package to the two other people waiting there and then receive bank notes in exchange and then when you were arrested, you were searched and found to be in possession of 10 deal bags of skunk and a package with about 500 ecstasy tablets inside, which was hidden in a pouch down your trousers. You had a dealers list in your pocket and £780 pounds in bank notes. This is due to the fact that you are a drug dealer. Please take this interview as an opportunity to give an explanation. Are you a drug dealer?..."
"No comment..." etc etc.
The smirking 26 year old casually unfolded his arms as we were sealing up the tapes and leant forward in his chair. "the problem with you boys is that you deal with the third division players. You will never get me because I'm premier league mate"
"hmmm. How is that then? Because when I went to your moms house to search it this morning, all I saw of your premier league was the smallest bedroom in the world at your moms house which you haven't left yet aged 26, a mattress in the corner with the entire contents of your wardrobe strewn around your bedroom floor which has never ever been washed. I found a foul smelling wet dog lying under a bloodstained towel thing which I assumed was your excuse for a quilt cover. Next to a carton of milk which had actually turned blue it had been there so long, I saw a love note from a bird called Leanne which said "please dont do any coke tonight because you can't get a hard on.." Yeah, really premier league mate, you fuckin knob"
Clicking his heels as he was bailed off, drug dealer boy smiled and winked at me as he walked out of the station front door. I flicked him a finger and said "say hello to your mom for me".
Thursday. 8am. Tea in my hand. Whistling as I walked down the cell corridoor.
Ha ha. The familiar black non-permanent marker on the custody whiteboard never ceases to bring a smile to my face. Drug dealer boy was in and had been since midnight the night before. I moved to the 'arrested for' section. Attempt theft of motor vehicle, assault police and resist arrest. Nice. I would be meeting premier league twat again for the second time in a week.
"sarge, the lad in cell 2, what's the circs of the arrest? I'll be dealing with him no doubt..."
"general. That kid is a prize plum. He got CS'd and face planted a couple of times whilst scrapping with the arresting bobbies..."
"shit. Who was it? are they hurt?"
"One was big Phil the farmer and the other was one of the girls on his shift, a girl who has transferred from another force called Kate. She's had a kick in the face, just bruising though, no cuts or scars, lucky for her. I think Phil the farmer made him see the error of his ways and then finished him off with some CS"
"cool. What about the theft of the car?"
"3 witnesses, all of whom pointed him out to the cops as they arrived at the scene as he was walking away. They saw him resist and assault Kate as well and have given statements."
"wicked. Call his brief please sarge and tell them to get on their way?"
"no problem general..."
I had him brought to me in one of the interview rooms after his consultation with his brief. He was wearing a fetching orange boiler suit and a black sock on one foot which smelled rank and a grey sock with a large hole in the toes. I could see black coloured grime around his big toe and the one next to it which made me instantly wish I hadn't looked. I couldn't resist it.
"nice boiler suit Guantanamo boy. Premier league fashion?"
"fuck you general I'm not even speaking to you. Get someone else in here, I ain't talking to you"
" I might as well tell you that my client will not be answering any of your questions during the interview, officer." said the defence solicitor.
"fine by me"
Tango suit boy was not a happy bunny. He still smelled of CS and I had to concentrate on stopping tears from falling from my eyes as the vapour filled the interview room. I had the familiar tingling in the back of my nose as it began to run. The knuckles on the back of his hands had large sore looking grazes and he had a four inch by one inch deep scabbed graze down his right cheek from his eybrow to his chin. He stunk of last nights intoxicants and vomit. He had a hangover and a headache. I, on the other hand, felt as fresh as a daisy. I had had an early night with the promise of some bedroom action from Mrs General, a great nights sleep, a cup of tea in bed in the morning and a nice hot shower. I had my favourite jeans on and my jumper smelled of persil and comfort. I was on top already.
"...Anything you do say may be given in evidence...I'm going to check that you understand the caution by explaining it in more simple terms"
"Look, I know the caution and what it means you fuckin wanker. Stop talking to me like I'm an idiot"
"OK. You were arrested last night after witnesses described seeing you smash the window of a VW golf parked on New rd, and picking up handfuls of CD's from within. You have glass all over your upper and lower body clothing a cut on your right hand and fresh drops of blood have been found inside the Golf. You were observed being stopped twenty feet away from the car by officers. 7 witnesses including four police officers have described you throwing several CD's onto the floor which have been identified by the owner of the golf as stolen. Were you responsible for the theft from this car?"
"no comment" etc. etc.
He did answer one question.
"why did you say to PC Phil the Farmer that you hoped his mother would die of cancer and as noted on your custody record, state that you would find out where he lived and have him shot dead?"
"because he's a wanker."
"you obviously now wish to comment, please tell me exactly what happened when you kicked this 19 year-old female police officer in the face?"
"no comment" etc. etc.
I would dearly love him to go all the way to crown court with this offence on a not guilty plea, just so that I can play the part of me, asking some great questions, when I read the interview transcripts to the judge and jury. The only trouble is, the entire system is weighted in favour of this pond life. Read some of the comments on this blog http://inspectorgadget.wordpress.com/ on the post entitled "the wolf who cried boy" and you will understand.
After being picked out on I.D parades by all witnesses, he was charged and I applied to the magistrates for a remand in custody. Guess what? Yep you guessed it.... UNCONDITIONAL BAIL!!!!
I give up.
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Assuming that the scrote was already on bail for the drugs offence, why the f**k did the mags "give him another chance", presumably to get into more "mischief"? IMHO, getting nicked whilst on bail should result in automatic custody - but I'm just a right-wing old fart who is not interested in how to knit a lentilburger.
In fact,one of the magistrates did say that they were going to retire to lunch as she had a lentil burger on the go.
Seriously Mr POGO, I write some bang-on MG7's. (to the non-cops, thats the form where we put our reasons for NOT allowing bail, to the CPS prosecutor)I mean, I write some really detailed and negative stuff about why they should not get bail. The other coppers ask me to email them examples of mine and they STILL give them bail. Our local court is now getting so fed up with us coppers bringing their court bailed felons in because they breched their conditions, that they drop the conditions! I kid you not, I recently went to court to listen to the outcome of a bail application for a Priority and persistent offender (PPO)and the magistrate said "obviously bail with conditions isn't working, so we'll remove the conditions..." I kicked the chair over in court, I was so pissed. The clerk, who is a friendly colleague, told me to get out of the court. I did before I said something to the magistrate which she wouldn't like. I complained to our management and insisted that they bring up these things at their monthly "tri-partate" meetings, but it continues. Next time I hear a positive thing which has happened, I will post it for sure.
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Seriously Mr POGO, I write some bang-on MG7's. (to the non-cops, thats the form where we put our reasons for NOT allowing bail, to the CPS prosecutor)I mean, I write some really detailed and negative stuff about why they should not get bail. The other coppers ask me to email them examples of mine and they STILL give them bail. Our local court is now getting so fed up with us coppers bringing their court bailed felons in because they breched their conditions, that they drop the conditions! I kid you not, I recently went to court to listen to the outcome of a bail application for a Priority and persistent offender (PPO)and the magistrate said "obviously bail with conditions isn't working, so we'll remove the conditions..." I kicked the chair over in court, I was so pissed. The clerk, who is a friendly colleague, told me to get out of the court. I did before I said something to the magistrate which she wouldn't like. I complained to our management and insisted that they bring up these things at their monthly "tri-partate" meetings, but it continues. Next time I hear a positive thing which has happened, I will post it for sure.
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