He had just arrested a burglar in the act of raiding the clubhouse of one of the outlying caravan camps and although he would always be at pains to remain modest, he knew that he was doing rather well.
Benny considered that it was pure luck that he had been in the right place at the right time. He had been patrolling the area when around 2am that morning an alarm had activated. He was on scene within a few minutes and in time to catch a youth exiting a hole in the sky-light. He was easy to subdue as he was heavily weighed down with coins having broken into the fruit machines.
This break in had to be a one-off for this lad as he had only the previous day been released from Juvenile Detention Centre and it was not possible to hold him responsible for any of the others.
There had been a series of club burglaries over the recent weeks. These had been at holiday camps some two or three miles distant from the town centre. Finally they caught the offenders who turned out to be the notorious Winchester brothers. During his interview David Winchester bragged that when committing the burglaries they could usually monitor and time any Police approach due to the Panda’s high revving mini engines. Apparently, in the dead of night, they could be heard approaching from quite a distance and this gave them the confidence to finish the job and get away from the scene in good time.
One night at the end of the summer season Benny was alone in his Panda patrolling the Seawick area. This was about 8 miles from the station and was notorious for having the worst radio coverage of the Division. Police radios were in their infancy and the Pye Pocket Phone personal radio system was not in the least bit sophisticated. Furthermore it was heavily influenced by atmospheric pressure.
In fact on one occasion Benny had been walking along the town promenade with a colleague and both had had radio receivers clipped to their lapels. They were no more than a yard apart. Benny was receiving a strong signal from Herne Bay Police across the Thames Estuary and his colleague was receiving the Lee-over signal.
Constructed of “Bakelite” plastic, the Pye radio system came in two pieces. A receiver and a transmitter. This was not a helpful feature of the equipment if one was as forgetful as Benny. About 4am one morning he came across insecure club premises and this “buggeration factor” became a bit of an issue.
The club was above an amusement arcade and Benny could see that the back door was wide open and the lights were on in the main bar. He decided to investigate and so he entered the yard and crept up the rear stairs which led onto a balcony and the back door. He peered inside and he could see that there was a large room with a bar counter on the left and on the right there was a door leading to a passage and other rooms. Benny couldn’t see anybody in the main room so he called out, ‘Shop! Anybody there? This is the Police.’
He was not alone for long. A large black dog appeared in the doorway and it bared its teeth. It seemed to be smiling at him. ‘Good Boy, there’s a good boy.’ The dog trotted towards him ‘Good boy.’ The dog then leapt and appeared to hover in the air as it sunk its teeth into the sleeve of Benny’s greatcoat.
Benny swung his arm around to try to dislodge the beast. It was very heavy but its own momentum enabled Benny to wrest himself free. The dog broke away and stood growling and glaring at him with a portion of sleeve sticking out of either side of its mouth. This gave Benny a split second in which to run behind the bar and put down the flap. He then felt for his pocket radio and realised that he had left the transmitter in the car, “Oh shit!”
Benny was in a state of shock but as luck would have it he was wearing a greatcoat with a tunic underneath. He winced when he thought of what his injuries might have been if he had encountered the beast in the warmer weather when he would normally wear a short sleeved shirt.
He was relieved to see a telephone which was standing on the bar beneath the optics and he picked up the receiver. He swore when he discovered that there was no dialling tone. The line was dead. The hound had stopped growling by now, but it was still patrolling its territory around the bar area. Benny would have to wait this one out.
He knew that he had been lucky as far as any possible injury was concerned but this almost became insignificant when the realisation dawned that he was in for some major ribbing from the other members of the Shift and would have to explain to the Inspector what lay behind his need for a new greatcoat from stores. The crowning sin, however, was in the fact that he had stupidly entered premises alone without notifying the Control room. This was standard personal safety procedure. If a burglary had been in progress, or he’d had a fall, he would have been in serious difficulty.
This was yet another lesson that he would have to learn the hard way.
After about 20 minutes the dog appeared to lose interest in him and it wandered off along the passageway to one of the side rooms. It was a large animal and a bit on the plump side, but it could move at a rate of knots. Benny tried to gauge whether he would be able to make it to the entrance door and force it shut before the beast cut him off. The door was wedged open and the risk factor was that he didn’t know if the door was tied back and whether he could get it shut before the beast emerged in pursuit. If he could not do so then he was faced with the possibility of it snapping at his heels as he ran down the stairs and tried to vault the fence.
Benny realised that he could not stay in this situation for ever and faced with the prospect of ridicule from his colleagues, he decided to take a chance. Would he run or try to use a bit of guile and creep. He knew that dogs possessed a very keen sense of smell but what was their hearing like? Did it depend on the dog? Did it depend on the age of the dog?
‘Bollocks,’ he thought, ’Go for it,’ He quietly opened the flap of the bar and started to tiptoe across the room. He heard a noise coming from the passage. “Shit,” He sprinted to the door and just managed to drag it shut as the beast threw his body up against the other side of it.
Benny could see the animal through the Perspex window which was set in the door. It was barking and gnashing its teeth ferociously.
Same drill, he thought. Wait for it to calm down and lose interest and then I can tackle the stairs.
Another ten minutes elapsed before Benny felt confident enough to attempt stage two. His little friend had wandered off again into the side rooms so he took his chance and leapt down the stairs and up onto the 6 foot slat fence and over. The dog didn’t even show itself and Benny almost felt cheated.
This whole business had taken about three quarters of an hour. The purpose of his entry to the premises was to ascertain whether a burglary had taken place, so he returned to the vehicle to collect the other half of his radio to try to call Control. He could not get a response from the Control room and although he had changed the batteries at the start of his shift, the radio was useless. He then opted to drive back to the Police Station and make a report to the skipper who in this instance was Roy Cook.
As he entered the Station, Paul Scott, the Control Room officer, opened the hatch and said, ‘Where the bloody hell have you been Benny? I’ve been calling you on the radio for ages!’ ‘We’ve had a complaint from neighbours about a dog constantly barking down at the Seawick club.’
Benny had to justify his absence and so told Paul and the skipper what had happened. Paul shook his head in disbelief and just grinned. Roy erupted in laughter ‘Boy, if brains were gunpowder, you wouldn’t have enough to blow your bloody hat off, would you’
Roy would later speak to the Inspector and sort out the uniform issue. The key-holder of the bar was called out to check the premises. It turned out that there had been no burglary. He had just had a late drink with some guests, had got horribly pissed and he had forgotten to lock up.
For some time afterwards his colleagues would bark as Benny entered the room and they would even bark over the tannoy when they thought that they could get away with it.
The Shift, at one of the daily briefings, presented him with the Ladybird- Book of Dogs. He took it well. It was his own fault as he had put himself on
offer in more ways than one, but anyway, he always held to the belief that if people were going to take the piss, it meant that they liked you! Didn’t it?
Chapter 24 – CID.
One morning Benny arrived at work and as he was coming through the yard he came across John Kent who having just finished the night shift was filling up his Panda at the petrol pump.
‘Seen Force Orders B mate?’ said John, ‘It’s got an advert in it for the CID selection course.’ ‘No I haven’t. You going to apply?’ said Benny.
‘Yeah, it might mean being posted somewhere else in the County though. Are you going to?’
‘I’ll have a look at it.’ Benny knew that he would although he was not that confident that he and John would get a look in with only just short of four years of service. However, it was possible to attend the course and even if they were not accepted immediately, they might be put on the waiting list.’
In the event both of them applied and they were accepted for the course. It was held over two weeks at the Force Headquarters and it consisted of Criminal Law Theory and practical exercises with an end of course examination. It was a challenging couple of weeks but they both worked hard to achieve the outcome they so desperately sought.
They successfully completed the course and both Benny and John were pleasantly surprised when they were posted to the CID at Lee-over-sands forthwith. Terry Connor was to be Benny’s new Sergeant.
On Day One, Detective Constable Benjamin Cohen reported for duty at 8.45 am. He was met by Terry Connor and the two other DCs on his team, Brian Wells and Vic Woodward. Benny was allocated a desk in the “Crow’s Nest.” He was then out of the office for most of the morning with Vic attending various burglary scenes and carrying out house to house enquiries. When Benny and Vic got back Terry Connor put his head around the door ‘Benny. DCI wants to see you, now.’
‘Oh no, thought Benny defensively, I’m not in the shit already am I?’
He went downstairs, knocked on the DCI’s door, which was ajar, and put his head around it.
‘You wanted to see me sir?’
‘Yes Mr Cohen. Come aboard my ship young man.’
Brian Johnson welcomed him to the CID and told him that he had been accepted for the Department on merit. He told him to model himself on Brian Wells and Vic Woodward who were both intelligent and steady characters. They were both experienced ‘Thief takers’ with the ability to cultivate informants.
‘Do you like a drink boy?’
‘Yes sir.’
‘Well, on late turn, I want you out and about around one or two of the pubs. Even if you are on your own, somebody will talk to you. So after 8 ’o clock, unless you’ve got a prisoner in the cells or urgent paperwork, I don’t expect to see you in the station. You won’t pick up information about what’s going on in here, I need you out there talking to the punters and keeping your ears open.’
Benny obeyed orders. But he was, at times, to take this requirement to extremes. Another rule, which was passed on by Terry Connor, was that it was taboo for officers to be caught typing their own reports.
‘We have typists for that kind of thing and they are paid less than you Benny. So use them.’
There were indeed six ladies in the typing pool and a CID administration team of another five. They were an integral part of the department supporting twenty detectives. There was also a lively social scene and naturally, there were relationships.
One lady, let’s call her Pam, was in her 40s and she had been in her job at the Police Station since leaving school. She had never been married but over time she had had several boyfriends some of whom were police officers. She was still a stunning looking woman and she was active. But she had a rather poisonous and manipulative side to her and she had an unfortunate habit of upsetting people.
Two of the detectives on the department were women, Claire and Jenny. They were very capable officers but since it was the 1970s they were primarily deployed to deal with crimes involving women and children. They were fully paid up members of the “Sister-hood,” but they were a part of the team and they got on well with their male colleagues. The job had made them both very cynical and they gave, as good, as they got.
They were both around 30 years of age, smart and attractive. Claire was married and Jenny was single with a steady boyfriend. They were not particularly good friends but they tolerated each other. They were united in one other respect though, they could not stand Pam. They were not, however, the only ones. Many people had had run-ins with her and she was a serial complainer.
Chapter 25 – Secret Santa.
In only a few weeks following Benny and John’s posting to the CID it was the Christmas period. There were a few social functions to look forward to, the main one being the formal CID Dinner and Dance, colloquially known as “the mums and dads do.” All of the detectives were expected to attend and there were usually various guests including Senior Police officers and maybe the odd entertainer. There was sometimes live music but more usually a disco. It took a lot of organisation with the printing of tickets and the menus, for each table, listing the order of toasts and speeches.
There were the wind ups and these seemed to get better as years went by.
The previous year it had somehow been discovered that Brian Johnson, in his younger days, had been part of a “Barber Shop quartet.” So that year’s menu included within it the words “DCI Brian Johnson will at this point sing an Aria.”
Benny was not at that particular do but apparently, as people sat down to dinner and some read the menu, people began nudging each other, laughing. Brian was one of the last to spot it and as he got near to the appointed time he was persuaded by popular pressure to sing. He took it all in good part and gave the guests as much of “Land of Hope and Glory,” as he could remember. This was received with a great roar of approval when he had finished.
There was also another do in the calendar that, quite sensibly, none of the Bosses ever attended. This was the Christmas lunch which was normally held in the back room of the Royal Hotel and went on until the early hours. It was held for CID officers and CID office staff and it was a drunken rip-roaring affair. There was normally someone who had to apologise the following day for some kind of inappropriate behaviour or drunken lunge.
One of the features of the celebration was the “Secret Santa” Gift presentation. In advance of the occasion and on paying for their tickets the attendees would be invited to draw a name out of a hat. They were to keep this name secret and buy a gift appropriate to the personality of the named guest. It was decreed that no more than two pounds should be spent on any individual item. The gift would then be put into the sack anonymously. The Secret Santa presentations would usually take place after the meal when the guests had “warmed up.”
Benny and John eagerly anticipated the Christmas lunch. They had both survived the drawing of straws for the two detectives who would have to remain sober and cover the Division. They were both free and clear to enjoy themselves. Benny, being without a girlfriend had his eye on Sophie who was a member of the typing pool and he was hoping for a chance to get close to her at some point.
Benny and John started early with a couple of “snifters” in the Imperial with Chuck around 11.30am and then they went to the Comrades Club for one before they rolled into the Royal Hotel via the rear entrance. The CID and staff were all there, dressed in their finery. Terry Connor was sporting a fine powder blue velvet jacket with an open neck shirt and black flares. Brian Wells and Vic Woodward were similarly attired. Benny was wearing a black velvet suit with a black shirt with white collar and cuffs.
George McGinley, although hailing from Barbados and having no real Scottish ancestry was wearing a kilt with full accoutrements. This was a tactical move on his part following a tried, tested and successful formula. He had discovered that once the drink started to take effect some young ladies could not resist trying to find out what this particular “Black Scotsman” wore beneath his kilt. George traded on t
his for all it was worth and he referred to it as his “Double Whammy.”
The Ladies had all turned up for the event, apart from a couple of them who were not really sociable types. They would probably have just sat looking glum and might have poisoned the atmosphere. Pam was looking very alluring as was young Sophie who was in her early 20s, 5 feet 5 inches, slim, beautiful and dark as she was Anglo-Indian. There seemed to be a good mix of characters and fun loving types.
The meal was good, if predictable, and the drinks flowed freely. Terry Connor stood up and tried to deliver a speech but he was booed and bombarded with bread rolls. It was a leisurely affair with jokes, songs and other party pieces. Vic Woodward offered to show everyone his Elephant impression taking both of his trouser pockets out for the ears but he was stopped short as he unzipped his fly to produce the trunk. Then came time for the “Secret Santa.”
The first few presents were pulled out of the sack. Being newcomers to the CID Benny and John really didn’t understand the significance of some of the “In” jokes until they were explained to them. But Benny realised that someone had done their homework because when his gift came out of the sack he found that he had a rubber bone to play with.
But worse was to come. Pam’s gift came out. It was large and it was square, ‘what the hell is this?’ thought Pam. She pulled off the wrapping. It was indeed large and square with an arrow at its centre, and clearly intended as some sort of dial. She was then horrified by what she saw when she revealed the full item.
Around the edge in the form of a clock were photos of the various officers at the station with whom she had had sexual relationships over the years. This would presumably come in useful to her to make a quick decision should she need a man at short notice. She had been awarded what was later referred to as a “Shaggomatic!”
An Oik's Progress Page 10
