An Oik's Progress

by Steve Eastwood

  ‘I wouldn’t worry Ben. I’m sure he’ll see the funny side of it. He’s a good bloke. Do you want me to give him a call to apologise on your behalf?’

  ‘No! No don’t do that!’ pleaded Benny.

  The more he thought about it he realised that it was his own fault. He should be able to recognise his own Chief Constable, after all.

  Following the formal part of the evening the band had struck up a series of old Sixties hits and the guests, most of whom were quite well oiled, took to the dance floor to Bop the night away. Benny and Felicity barely left the floor and as the evening culminated in a number of slow dances they were totally engrossed in one another. On their way back to Felicity’s flat at the end of the evening they were both in high spirits but there was one matter that Benny wished to clear up.

  ‘There is something that I wanted to ask you,’ said Benny.

  ‘Yes darling.’

  ‘You know when you introduced me to Simeon Fanshaw and John Farthingale, who by the way just happens to be my Chief Constable.’

  ‘Yes. Is he?’ said Felicity, obtusely. ‘I didn’t realise that you knew him already.’

  ‘Well I didn’t. But I damn well should have done. Still that’s my fault. Anyway, it’s not really what I wanted to ask you about.’

  ‘Well what is it then Ben spit it out before it chokes you.’

  ‘Thing is,’ said Benny ‘You introduced me to both of them as your fiancé.’

  ‘Did I?’ said Felicity.

  ‘You know you did.’

  ‘Well I think that sounds rather nice Ben, don’t you?’ She said.

  ‘Well yeah,’ Benny spluttered. ‘But I haven’t even asked you to marry me yet.’

  ‘Perhaps you had better get on with it then darling. Unless you don’t like the idea, of course.’

  Benny slid off of the leather seat and onto his knees. He took both of Felicity’s hands in his and at the precise moment the Limousine lurched to one side and Benny fell onto his back. Felicity screamed with laughter.

  ‘Everything alright in the back there?’ shouted the driver.

  ‘Fine, thanks!’ ‘Ben is just trying to ask me to marry him.’ shouted Felicity.

  ‘Shall I pull over and stop so that he can do it properly?’

  ‘Good idea. Lets.’

  The driver pulled into the nearest layby and stopped with the engine running. He slid back the interior window. ‘Don’t mind if I’m a witness do you?’ he said.

  ‘No please do. Isn’t this romantic?’ she said, giggling. ‘It’s probably best that we do have a witness in case one of us forgets by the morning.’ Truth be told, Benny felt a bit of a tit. He had been manipulated, he knew that. But he wanted Felicity and he didn’t mind that she had forced matters along. Benny took a deep breath. ‘Felicity Graham, would you please do me the honour of becoming my wife?’

  ‘Yes I would,’ said Felicity, giggling through her tears.

  Chapter 48 – Wooden Heart.

  It was March 1980 and Benny was sitting in the Canteen having a mid-morning cup of tea and a fried egg banjo when Terry Connor put his head around the door.

  ‘Have you got anything on this morning Benny?’

  ‘Only paperwork Terry. It can wait though,’ said Benny.

  ‘Good. Finish your sandwich and then you’re coming with me to Ipswich.’

  Although only 24 miles away Ipswich was part of another Force area that being of the Suffolk Constabulary. En route to Ipswich Police Station Terry related the fact that Joe Trainor, a criminal local to Lee-over-sands, had been found in suspicious circumstances in Ipswich around 3am that morning parked in a Will Hire lorry which was loaded with timber. He had been questioned at the scene but he would not tell the officers the source of the wood or to whom he was taking it. He had therefore been arrested on suspicion of theft. Enquiries by the Ipswich officers with the hire company showed that the lorry had been hired in Colchester the previous day, using a driving licence in a different name. Trainor would not give an explanation for that either.

  On their arrival at Ipswich Police Station and after a short briefing by the local officers Terry and Benny took Trainor out of his cell for interview. Terry had dealt with Trainor before and he knew exactly what to expect from him.

  Joe Trainor was a career burglar who had spent many of his 50 years in one Prison establishment or another. He was a Geordie of wiry build and around 5 feet 5 inches in height. He was a cocky and supercilious individual and he was confident that he did not require the services of a Solicitor.

  The interview was not a lengthy one. As Terry had expected, Trainor made “No Comment” replies to all of the questions put to him. After 20 minutes he was put back in his cell.

  Terry and Benny would have to do the job the hard way. They had not even identified a loser for the wood. If they were unable to do that, there would be no proven offence and no basis on which to charge him. Their next task was to take a good look at the lorry and load to ascertain if there was any clue as to the origin of the Timber. Maybe they would locate an invoice or ticket if they were lucky. But after turning over the complete load they found nothing of the kind.

  The search was complicated by the fact that, for some unknown reason, the wood had been taken off of the back of the lorry and scattered over the floor of the warehouse in which it was being stored. The only fact that they were able to establish was that the load consisted of lengths of Polish white wood as this was stamped on the end of each plank. But where had it been imported into the UK?

  Terry decided to make enquiries with the UK Trade organisation which represented wood suppliers and importers. He was told that of all the small Ports in the area the most likely one to have been the Port of entry was Hythe Quay in Colchester. They also advised that written or sprayed on the outside edge of each stack of wood should be a “Bill of lading number” which would be the basis of research to identify the date and details of its importation and lead them to the owner.

  Terry and Benny returned to the warehouse to locate the number. This was where the unloading of the lorry made their task so much harder. They could see that there were signs of writing on the edges of the wood and these were likely to be “Bill of lading” numbers. However, it was clear that the individual numbers had been scrawled across the edges of several planks at a time so to identify a full number would require a massive kind of jigsaw involving the movement of several tons of wood. Still, it would be worth the effort just to see the look on Trainor’s face when he was charged.

  It took them several hours of hard graft before they were able to construct a full number and Terry was then straight on the phone to the Colchester Dock Masters office. They were able to tell him that that number related to part of a consignment unloaded at Hythe Quay from a Polish vessel the previous week. They contacted the importers who had an immediate stock check carried out following which they were able to confirm the lading numbers for the wood that was missing from their yard.

  It was clear that Trainor could not have loaded the lorry on his own but an inspection of the premises revealed that the perimeter fence and gateway into the wood yard were all outwardly secure. It was suspected therefore that one of the employees had assisted Trainor who must have had access to a copy of the key to the padlock securing the gate. However logical this suspicion was, an accomplice could not be identified.

  Terry and Benny took Trainor out of his cell for a second interview but it was just basically a re-run of the first interview. The cocky little sod said nothing.

  The fact that the source of the wood had been identified had to be put to him so that he might, if he were so minded, give an account as to why he was in possession of a stolen load. But he continued to stay silent.

  Trainor had always used this method of defence since he had been advised of its efficacy but an old lag with whom he had shared a cell in Brixton. He thought that he was bomb proof. But he did not realise that total intransigence does not do when one is found in recent
possession of stolen goods. Yes, Trainor was secure in his silence during interview but he had gambled and he had lost. He wasn’t best pleased when he was charged with Dishonest handling of a stolen load of timber. He had a lot to say about it at that point in the proceedings. And none of it was positive. After a four day trial at the Ipswich Crown Court later in the year, Trainor was found guilty of Conspiracy to steal with a person or persons unknown and he was sentenced to 2 years imprisonment.

  Chapter 49 – European cups.

  In the 1970/80s there was a real sense of pride and purpose among the members of the CID in the various Police Forces of the United Kingdom until the Politicians and Lawyers neutered it with political correctness. The Force became a Police Service with “Mission Statements,” “Targets,” “Aims and Objectives,” and measured according to the quality of service that it provided to its “Customers.” The definition of “Customer,” believe or not, including those criminals coming into contact with the system. The officers of Lee-over sands were also swept up and overtaken by this Revolution.

  Until that time, there was a strong ethos of comradeship and hospitality which was extended to those officers visiting from other forces who, once their operational objectives had been achieved, would be taken for drinks in the various pubs and clubs of the town. This was subject to the exigencies of duty, of course. Consequently some rip-roaring nights were enjoyed and this reflected well on the reputation of Lee-over CID in the eyes of visiting officers.

  The benefit of this was not only of a social nature but it helped to forge mutual trust between the Lee-over team and other operational Squads. This trust made for successful mutual aid, the sharing of intelligence and ever more joint crime operations.

  This sort of hospitality was not only afforded to visitors from other forces but also went International with the CID arranging annual football matches between the officers of the Division and Hamburg and then later with the Rotterdam Port Police.

  Benny was a founder member of both “Twinning arrangements” and his fluency in German was put to very good use. International cooperation and camaraderie were of primary importance. At least that’s the way the British and the Dutch Police approached it. The fun factor was, of course, also of paramount importance but the events all took place in the officers own time and at their own expense.

  The football was very much a secondary driver for these relationships, although the Germans had quite a different take on the arrangement.

  On arrival in Hamburg after a long night on the lash, aboard the Ferry MV Hamlet, the British would be welcomed with a lavish barbecue and copious amounts of alcohol by the German “Team.” Pride was at stake and the Brits were, of course, expected to match the drinking prowess of the Germans. Indeed they saw it as a matter of common decency and they would have considered themselves as rude if they had not at least have attempted to do so. It was all very convivial and good natured with much joshing about the various merits of the respective National football teams and the likely result of their match to be played the following day.

  The next morning, after minimal sleep, none of the Brits felt like 90 minutes of football. Their coordination was shot to pieces as most were still pissed from the night before (and the night before that). However they had to do their duty and they duly assembled outside the Gasthof to board their transport to the football ground. One or two had to be forcibly removed from their beds when they attempted to put up some kind of resistance and a couple of others, still pissed, had to be “slapped down” on the bus en route to the game when they started singing the theme tune to “Dads Army” (Who do you think you are kidding Mr Hitler). Not considered to be good form at all.

  On arrival at the football ground Benny and the lads were greeted by the local Chief of Detectives Horst Wenzl who spoke faultless English. They duly got changed into their kit and after a perfunctory team talk the starting eleven dragged their sorry arses out onto the field of play.

  There were the customary presentations before the game and an exchange of pennants. Benny, who was team Captain, looked across at the opposing team and apart from Eckhardt, the German team manager, he recognised none of the Germans and they had supposedly been drinking with their opposite numbers all of the previous evening. Then the penny dropped. The slippery bastards had got a Drinking Team and a Football Team and the two were distinctly separate from each other!

  Benny lined up with the lads and, having won the toss, the Englanders kicked off. By 15 minutes into the match the Germans were winning 2-0 and Benny could not get a proper reaction from his legs. His mind was making appointments that his body could not keep and the whole of the first half was a process of trying to run off the alcohol from the night before. He found that Acid Reflux was also becoming an issue.

  At half-time the Germans were winning 4-0 and a desperate re-organisation was called for. The hosts had provided a variety of drinks for half time refreshment and these included Lager. One or two of the Brits took a “hair of the dog” approach for what they told themselves were physiological reasons and availed themselves of a swift litre of beer.

  In the second half the Brits played with a formation of 5 players in defence, 4 in midfield and 1 lone forward. They would, if they could have got away with it have smuggled a twelfth man onto the pitch to stiffen up the defence. However, in the interests of Anglo/German relations they drew back from employing such a tactic. As the alcohol was gradually metabolized through their systems the feeling returned to their legs and mercifully the Brits were just able to keep the score down to a reasonable 5-1 defeat.

  Of course, following the match the Germans provided a meal and yet more alcohol.

  Their hospitality was unstinting and by the time the lads from Lee-over-sands arrived back on board the boat (MV Hamlet) they were very well refreshed indeed. They then floated back to Harwich. Feeling no pain at all.

  Chapter 50 – Herman the German.

  So it came to pass that on one particular Friday morning in April 1980 it was with International relations in mind that when a young man named Herman Ravelli arrived at the front counter of Lee-over Police Station, he was welcomed with open arms.

  Like many Germans, Herman spoke good English and he was extremely polite. He explained to the front counter Pc that he was a German student Police officer (something like a Graduate entrant) and that he was touring the UK calling in at various Police Stations along the way. The constable did not really know what to do with him so aware that Benny was a part of the Harwich Hobos Football Club, and recently returned from campaigning on the Continent, he called him down from the CID office to deal with him.

  ‘Guten Morgen. Ich heisse Ben Cohen ’

  ‘Guten Morgen. I am Herman Ravelli. A Police officer from Bremen and I am here to visit Police units in England.’

  ‘I am very pleased to meet you. Would you like a coffee?’ said Benny.

  ‘Ja. That would be nice. Thank you.’

  ‘Don’t thank me Herman. You haven’t tasted how bad our coffee is yet,’ said Benny.

  The young visitor laughed. ‘Good.’ Thought Benny.’ The boy has got a sense of humour.’

  Benny took him to the Canteen, which, as it was a Court day, was quite busy. As they entered Benny noticed the various young women in the room visibly (and probably unwittingly) straighten their posture with the arrival of the young German in their midst.

  He was around 6feet 3 inches in height with a strong lean build. He was classically handsome but with dark Italian looks rather than those of a stereotypical German. He later explained that his father had been an Italian immigrant worker. ‘Tell me,’ said Benny. ‘How did you travel from Germany to be here?’

  ‘I flew from Bremen to Calais, then across the sea to Dover where I stayed for one night.’

  Benny was a bit mystified by the route taken until Herman explained that he had his own light aircraft which he had landed at the Lee-over-sands airstrip. He was touring England for a week carrying out research for his
thesis which was a part of his Post Graduate studies.

  ‘So where do you sleep?’

  ‘I have a small tent which I use. It put it under the wing of the aircraft,’ said Herman.

  ‘Haven’t got any bombs on board, have you?’ said Bert, an elderly traffic warden who was “earwigging” the conversation, ’Only I remember your lot at Dunkirk.’ Benny looked sternly at him.

  Herman laughed, ‘No, nothing like that. You are quite safe. I am a Police officer. Not the Luftwaffe.’ After coffee Benny took Herman to meet the Boss, Brian Johnson and Herman explained the reason behind his visit. Benny was not unduly busy so Brian offered him up to provide Herman with a guided tour of the Division. He explained the Force structure and where the Criminal Investigation Department sits within it. Herman made copious notes and he asked a series of intelligent questions about the Strategic and Tactical aspects of British Policing.

  Later in the day Herman told Benny that he wanted to check on his aircraft which was parked at the local flying club. Benny drove him to the airfield where he was met by the sight of a beautiful old biplane which was parked at the side of the runway. Herman explained that this was a Tiger Moth that had been left to him by his grandfather. He saw that erected underneath one of the wings was a two man “Pup tent.”

  ‘Are you going to sleep in there then?’ said Benny.

  ‘Ja. It’s very comfortable and it’s all that I need.’ said Herman.

  Herman satisfied himself that all was well and Benny told him that there was a 999 Social event being held that evening in the local Football Club and that the Boss had invited Herman as a guest of the CID should he wish to attend. Herman was pleased to accept the invitation and he said that he would get a couple of hours sleep in the tent before getting himself ready for the evening’s entertainment.