Sunday mornings are a curious time on London's streets. The excesses of the previous night often spill over and those that do not know when to stop are regularly mopped up (necessarily so, in most cases) by police officers. If you enjoy a calm Sunday morning, listening to birdsong and reading the Telegraph, then do not become a police officer in London.
It was one such morning when a call came in to a young lad who had woken up to find a confused woman in his flat. This woman was disorientated and probably suffering some mental health or dependence issues. He originally called for an ambulance but due to the suspicious circumstances around the incident, the police were dispatched also. This is how I came to be involved.
Upon arrival at the address, a flat share with three bedrooms and three different tenants, I was greeted by a disheveled yet magnanimous fellow aged about 20 years old. I'm not one to place people in such categories, but I would describe him as somewhat 'posh'. Cockily he strutted up to my colleague and I. He went on to explain that he had been out drinking the night before and, although his memory was hazy, he believed he had possibly picked the female up on his way home. All suspicions, including his own, was that this female was a prostitute (Or a 'Tom' in police jargon).
He told the story as if he were speaking to his mates and he was proud of how 'out of it' he had been. It was all a funny story to share with his friends.
Indeed, his flatmates soon joined us in the living room of the flat and he cockily divulged himself in the story of what he described as "Lad antics" the night before.
Sick of this self-proclaimed "legend" I went to check the female was ok. She was on the ambulance having some routine checks. I hopped aboard and instantly my heart filled with glee. I knew this young lady. I had encountered her before. There was obviously one detail that our "legend" forgot from his romantic encounter.
With a new spring in my step I went back to the living room. I was looking forward to it already.
AB: "Right then, we'll overlook that we all suspect you to have picked up a prostitute last night as there isn't any concrete evidence to suggest what happened. She seems OK, the ambulance will take her wherever she needs to go. There is nothing further for police to do here so we are going to go."
I headed for the door. Without batting an eye the "legend" turned back to his friends and continued to relay the intimate acts of the night before to them, whilst in hysterics. Columbo-style, I turned at the front door.
AB: "Oh, just one more thing. That lady, isn't exactly a lady. She's a transgender prostitute. And she also has hepatitus C, so get yourself checked out. Good day".
The smugness leaked from his face as I turned and left him to swallow the new information. It remains one of the most satisfying moments I have experienced as a police officer.
Anonymous Bobby.
Showing posts with label law. Show all posts
Showing posts with label law. Show all posts
Friday, February 10, 2017
Sunday, February 5, 2017
Anonymous Bobby and Domestic Incidents
Ask any police officer and they will tell you, we deal with a LOT of domestic incidents.
Sometimes things get out of hand, and we are called. We all argue with our loved ones and sometimes things can get a bit ridiculous. However, there does appear to be a lot of people incapable of holding a relationship without constant police assistance.
The nature of domestics means that any domestic related incident leads to a report taking up valuable police time. I've personally been to a domestic whereby the husband has called us because his wife has hidden his Xbox and he wanted to play with it. The compulsory paperwork that follows takes around 30 minutes. The majority of the time, it is people as pathetic as the example I have just outlined calling us.
I always tell people, if police are frequently being called to you and your partner, perhaps it isn't working. This seems like ridiculous and alien advice to some people.
One incident I'll always remember was a French couple. The wife had called us as her husband was angry and throwing things around their home. Unfortunately neither spoke a word of English so we were trying to communicate through an interpreter over the phone. Suddenly the husband attacks. With vengeance in his eyes he lunges at myself and my colleague. We roll around on the floor with him to get him restrained. Meanwhile his wife has armed herself with a handbag and is swinging it viciously at my colleague and I. In the background a rather bewildered interpreter could be heard on the phone asking if we needed his assistance any further. All good fun and a comical scene to reflect on, except that the couple had children and they were distraught.
If I had a pound for every person who had called police to get their partner removed from their home, only to let them back in the next day and call us again, I would be rich enough to never don that foresaken uniform ever again.
Reflecting on the man and his Xbox, another call I once went to comes to mind. A neighbour had called us to a loud disturbance in the flat opposite her own. Upon our arrival, sure enough, hysterical shouting and crashing could be heard inside. A loud bang on the door from us and the flat fell silent. Footsteps gingerly approached the front door from inside and it opened. A young chap wearing a headset poked his head around the door, looking bemused. As it turned out he had been rigorously defending a fortification on Call of Duty on his Xbox and had probably got a little carried away with his role.
It's not really a laughing matter, though. I've also seen domestics that have led to murder, rape, serious assaults and abuse. Understandable then that a bloke taking Call of Duty so seriously is actually appreciated as a little light relief.
Anonymous Bobby
Sometimes things get out of hand, and we are called. We all argue with our loved ones and sometimes things can get a bit ridiculous. However, there does appear to be a lot of people incapable of holding a relationship without constant police assistance.
The nature of domestics means that any domestic related incident leads to a report taking up valuable police time. I've personally been to a domestic whereby the husband has called us because his wife has hidden his Xbox and he wanted to play with it. The compulsory paperwork that follows takes around 30 minutes. The majority of the time, it is people as pathetic as the example I have just outlined calling us.
I always tell people, if police are frequently being called to you and your partner, perhaps it isn't working. This seems like ridiculous and alien advice to some people.
One incident I'll always remember was a French couple. The wife had called us as her husband was angry and throwing things around their home. Unfortunately neither spoke a word of English so we were trying to communicate through an interpreter over the phone. Suddenly the husband attacks. With vengeance in his eyes he lunges at myself and my colleague. We roll around on the floor with him to get him restrained. Meanwhile his wife has armed herself with a handbag and is swinging it viciously at my colleague and I. In the background a rather bewildered interpreter could be heard on the phone asking if we needed his assistance any further. All good fun and a comical scene to reflect on, except that the couple had children and they were distraught.
If I had a pound for every person who had called police to get their partner removed from their home, only to let them back in the next day and call us again, I would be rich enough to never don that foresaken uniform ever again.
Reflecting on the man and his Xbox, another call I once went to comes to mind. A neighbour had called us to a loud disturbance in the flat opposite her own. Upon our arrival, sure enough, hysterical shouting and crashing could be heard inside. A loud bang on the door from us and the flat fell silent. Footsteps gingerly approached the front door from inside and it opened. A young chap wearing a headset poked his head around the door, looking bemused. As it turned out he had been rigorously defending a fortification on Call of Duty on his Xbox and had probably got a little carried away with his role.
It's not really a laughing matter, though. I've also seen domestics that have led to murder, rape, serious assaults and abuse. Understandable then that a bloke taking Call of Duty so seriously is actually appreciated as a little light relief.
Anonymous Bobby
Friday, February 3, 2017
A Ceasefire in the War on Drugs
People are going to take drugs. Not everybody, but a good proportion of people. Some will take drugs recreationally, some will become addicted. Some will dip in and out of drug use, some will spiral into a depraved world and hectic lifestyle. Some people will never try an illegal drug. Some people will try them all.
The above is probably going to remain true no matter what approach we take to drug use. The fact is we need to start focusing our resources on harm reduction and assistance for those that drug use affects so negatively.
As always, I don't have the answers. But I do know that what we are currently doing does not work. We criminalise ordinary people, and sometimes sick people, for drug use or possession. Licensed venues such as clubs are terrified of working with police as police licensing teams rule with an iron rod and if the clubs admit drug use in their venues then they are closed, temporarily or sometimes indefinitely.
Legalisation is not necessarily the answer. But a redirection of funds and resources, such as man power, into education, prevention, and intervention would, in my opinion, be a start. That's all very broad I understand, but it's better than locking people up for taking drugs.
Some people like to get fucked up, for a myriad of reasons (Good heavens! Excuse my French). First and foremost we need to focus on making sure it is done as safely as possible. Persecuting people leads to an aura of "unapproachability". We have been arresting people for using drugs for decades, and it is still happening. So perhaps, whilst keeping a principle of illegality, we lower the stick slightly and raise the carrot.
From a policing point of view all resources should be directed towards those who prey on the vulnerable and sell narcotics, and those who manufacture them. An incredible amount of man hours are wasted while officers deal with people whom have been stopped with £10 worth of cannabis. As a society we gain nothing from this. It costs a fortune, it takes police off the streets for unnecessarily long amounts of time, and it criminalises (albeit sometimes in a very minor way) somebody for doing something that so many of us have done (Hands up! Who's smoked a joint before?! You're nicked!).
As I said, I don't have the answers. We do, however, need a cataclysmic shift in the way we deal with drug use in London, and the UK. I'm not pro-drug. I'm anti criminalisation for minor drug possession. I'm pro harm reduction.
Your sons and daughters, as with mine, are quite likely to try drugs at some point. No matter how much we try, it is likely to happen. If they were to be caught, would you want them thrown in a cell or taught the realities and consequences of their actions? Before being safely deposited back to yourselves, of course. It all sounds a little 'la-de-da' I know. I'm not a 'la-de-da' person generally, but the above is a typical example of the pointlessness of criminalising people.
As for prison, drug users often tell me that it is the opposite that a drug addict needs. Drugs are, apparently, widely available and if you think that prison will get people clean, you are very wrong. Addicts should be provided with safe environments to take hard drugs, with clean needles and medical staff on site. This has been implemented in several countries, and very successfully too. Whilst they are there, counsellors work their magic and gently prod and probe to get each person ready for recovery.
It's a difficult subject and nobody knows exactly what will work and what won't. Those that dabble in drugs are generally little nuisance to society, and those that become addled with addiction are a gigantic peck of bother! Those that are addicted should be 'treated' rather than 'punished'.
Please feel free to comment below to let me know your own stance on drug policies.
Anonymous Bobby
The above is probably going to remain true no matter what approach we take to drug use. The fact is we need to start focusing our resources on harm reduction and assistance for those that drug use affects so negatively.
As always, I don't have the answers. But I do know that what we are currently doing does not work. We criminalise ordinary people, and sometimes sick people, for drug use or possession. Licensed venues such as clubs are terrified of working with police as police licensing teams rule with an iron rod and if the clubs admit drug use in their venues then they are closed, temporarily or sometimes indefinitely.
Legalisation is not necessarily the answer. But a redirection of funds and resources, such as man power, into education, prevention, and intervention would, in my opinion, be a start. That's all very broad I understand, but it's better than locking people up for taking drugs.
Some people like to get fucked up, for a myriad of reasons (Good heavens! Excuse my French). First and foremost we need to focus on making sure it is done as safely as possible. Persecuting people leads to an aura of "unapproachability". We have been arresting people for using drugs for decades, and it is still happening. So perhaps, whilst keeping a principle of illegality, we lower the stick slightly and raise the carrot.
From a policing point of view all resources should be directed towards those who prey on the vulnerable and sell narcotics, and those who manufacture them. An incredible amount of man hours are wasted while officers deal with people whom have been stopped with £10 worth of cannabis. As a society we gain nothing from this. It costs a fortune, it takes police off the streets for unnecessarily long amounts of time, and it criminalises (albeit sometimes in a very minor way) somebody for doing something that so many of us have done (Hands up! Who's smoked a joint before?! You're nicked!).
As I said, I don't have the answers. We do, however, need a cataclysmic shift in the way we deal with drug use in London, and the UK. I'm not pro-drug. I'm anti criminalisation for minor drug possession. I'm pro harm reduction.
Your sons and daughters, as with mine, are quite likely to try drugs at some point. No matter how much we try, it is likely to happen. If they were to be caught, would you want them thrown in a cell or taught the realities and consequences of their actions? Before being safely deposited back to yourselves, of course. It all sounds a little 'la-de-da' I know. I'm not a 'la-de-da' person generally, but the above is a typical example of the pointlessness of criminalising people.
As for prison, drug users often tell me that it is the opposite that a drug addict needs. Drugs are, apparently, widely available and if you think that prison will get people clean, you are very wrong. Addicts should be provided with safe environments to take hard drugs, with clean needles and medical staff on site. This has been implemented in several countries, and very successfully too. Whilst they are there, counsellors work their magic and gently prod and probe to get each person ready for recovery.
It's a difficult subject and nobody knows exactly what will work and what won't. Those that dabble in drugs are generally little nuisance to society, and those that become addled with addiction are a gigantic peck of bother! Those that are addicted should be 'treated' rather than 'punished'.
Please feel free to comment below to let me know your own stance on drug policies.
Anonymous Bobby
Wednesday, February 1, 2017
Where It All Began For Anonymous Bobby
Everybody remembers their first arrest. I was fortunate, you could say, as mine was slightly more exciting than the average body for shoplifting or similar.
It was a cold December night and I had been on response team for only a few days. I was working with two very experienced PC's, who have probably been retired for a long time now. Other officers on our team were chasing a young lad who had been robbing other youths at knife point. The suspect was making off through the rear gardens of addresses near where we were situated.
I was so new that speeding through London's streets with blue lights flashing and sirens wailing was still exciting. It was dark so the blue lights reflected on the street signs and were almost blinding. As we approached where the young man was being chased he darted across the road in front of us and into an estate on our left.
I flew out of the vehicle and gave chase. To get into the estate I had to hurdle a small fence about 2 feet in height. I did this successfully, however the grass on the other side was icy and I promptly fell 'arse over tit' on the other side. Undeterred I got to my feet and continued to chase (I was a much younger man back then). I gained ground, he was young but had already been running for several minutes and was beginning to tire. I reached out and my hand brushed his hood which flapped behind him in the wind. I was so close as he jumped down 4 or 5 stairs into a stairway in the block of flats. I followed. I obviously hadn't learned my lesson. The concrete was solid ice as I landed and I repeated my inelegant fall from a few moments earlier.
It is testament to the folly of youth, excitement and an eagerness to please that moments after my second fall I caught up with the young man and tackled him to the floor with an interception that even the most hardened rugby player would have been proud of.
I arrested him for possession of a bladed article and robbery. He cried all the way to custody. The skin on my knees took weeks to heal.
It's sad to say but I'll be completely honest with you. If that same incident occurred tomoroow I wouldn't even bother giving chase. I don't know what happened to the lad but I'm sure it was a pathetic slap on the wrist. The grief, writing and hassle that follows such an arrest makes it not worthwhile in the first place, to anybody. It is a likely estimation that the harshest punishment laid out because of the above situation was to my poor knees. On the plus side, I had obviously impressed my colleagues. As we returned to the station, for the first time, one of them offered to make me a cup of tea. I had been accepted.
Anonymous Bobby
It was a cold December night and I had been on response team for only a few days. I was working with two very experienced PC's, who have probably been retired for a long time now. Other officers on our team were chasing a young lad who had been robbing other youths at knife point. The suspect was making off through the rear gardens of addresses near where we were situated.
I was so new that speeding through London's streets with blue lights flashing and sirens wailing was still exciting. It was dark so the blue lights reflected on the street signs and were almost blinding. As we approached where the young man was being chased he darted across the road in front of us and into an estate on our left.
I flew out of the vehicle and gave chase. To get into the estate I had to hurdle a small fence about 2 feet in height. I did this successfully, however the grass on the other side was icy and I promptly fell 'arse over tit' on the other side. Undeterred I got to my feet and continued to chase (I was a much younger man back then). I gained ground, he was young but had already been running for several minutes and was beginning to tire. I reached out and my hand brushed his hood which flapped behind him in the wind. I was so close as he jumped down 4 or 5 stairs into a stairway in the block of flats. I followed. I obviously hadn't learned my lesson. The concrete was solid ice as I landed and I repeated my inelegant fall from a few moments earlier.
It is testament to the folly of youth, excitement and an eagerness to please that moments after my second fall I caught up with the young man and tackled him to the floor with an interception that even the most hardened rugby player would have been proud of.
I arrested him for possession of a bladed article and robbery. He cried all the way to custody. The skin on my knees took weeks to heal.
It's sad to say but I'll be completely honest with you. If that same incident occurred tomoroow I wouldn't even bother giving chase. I don't know what happened to the lad but I'm sure it was a pathetic slap on the wrist. The grief, writing and hassle that follows such an arrest makes it not worthwhile in the first place, to anybody. It is a likely estimation that the harshest punishment laid out because of the above situation was to my poor knees. On the plus side, I had obviously impressed my colleagues. As we returned to the station, for the first time, one of them offered to make me a cup of tea. I had been accepted.
Anonymous Bobby
Tuesday, January 31, 2017
Trump vs. May - A Police Officer's Perspective
This is a blog about the experiences of a police officer in London. Sometimes it will inevitably dip into political issues but I will avoid doing so where possible.
Now in true Met Police fashion I shall contradict all of the above.
It's difficult to talk about anything without referencing Donald Trump at the moment. I'm not going to talk about his immigration policies or anything else which is grabbing headlines at the moment. I want to discuss his attitude towards the men and women of the American police services.
Trump and Mike Pence have both been very vocal in their support of police officers in America. They have shown both gratitude and respect for the work done by police services and spoken about maintaining police officer conditions and numbers.
In contrast, whilst Home Secretary, Theresa May led an unprecedented attack on police services, and police officers alike. She became a Wicked Witch type figure amongst police officers. She oversaw pension cuts, pay freezes, benefits being slashed, and officer numbers dwindling to a point of workloads putting unbearable strain on those remaining.
One can criticise Trump for a multitude of reasons. It isn't difficult to do. But one thing he has brought that I find refreshing is his attitude towards police. He understands that the thin blue line is what stands between his success and total chaos. May, on the other hand, appears to treat the police like the enemy. Rarely, if ever, does she come out and voice support for the work being done. Only in UK government can an incident like 'Plebgate' occur. An undercurrent of disdain and distrust appears to run between officers and politicians, in both directions admittedly.
There are always lessons to be learned, in every situation.
I'm not coming out in favour of Trump and Pence, but it's easy to dismiss him completely when in fact our own leaders could learn a little something about protecting the people that protect them every single day. So take note, Mrs May, Trump's policies may be causing you no end of grief, but you have something to learn from him nonetheless.
As for the police in America, I'm sure they are happy to have a President who supports them so wholeheartedly. I would imagine that many of the men and women of the United States' police are driving around with 'Make America Great Again' bumper stickers on the back of their vehicles.
Anonymous Bobby
Now in true Met Police fashion I shall contradict all of the above.
It's difficult to talk about anything without referencing Donald Trump at the moment. I'm not going to talk about his immigration policies or anything else which is grabbing headlines at the moment. I want to discuss his attitude towards the men and women of the American police services.
Trump and Mike Pence have both been very vocal in their support of police officers in America. They have shown both gratitude and respect for the work done by police services and spoken about maintaining police officer conditions and numbers.
In contrast, whilst Home Secretary, Theresa May led an unprecedented attack on police services, and police officers alike. She became a Wicked Witch type figure amongst police officers. She oversaw pension cuts, pay freezes, benefits being slashed, and officer numbers dwindling to a point of workloads putting unbearable strain on those remaining.
One can criticise Trump for a multitude of reasons. It isn't difficult to do. But one thing he has brought that I find refreshing is his attitude towards police. He understands that the thin blue line is what stands between his success and total chaos. May, on the other hand, appears to treat the police like the enemy. Rarely, if ever, does she come out and voice support for the work being done. Only in UK government can an incident like 'Plebgate' occur. An undercurrent of disdain and distrust appears to run between officers and politicians, in both directions admittedly.
There are always lessons to be learned, in every situation.
I'm not coming out in favour of Trump and Pence, but it's easy to dismiss him completely when in fact our own leaders could learn a little something about protecting the people that protect them every single day. So take note, Mrs May, Trump's policies may be causing you no end of grief, but you have something to learn from him nonetheless.
As for the police in America, I'm sure they are happy to have a President who supports them so wholeheartedly. I would imagine that many of the men and women of the United States' police are driving around with 'Make America Great Again' bumper stickers on the back of their vehicles.
Anonymous Bobby
Sunday, January 29, 2017
Police Jargon 3
The latest in my series of blogs explaining the unique language of police officers in London
Mong - An idiot. Somebody incapable of living their life without constant supervision.
Wiping Your Feet On The Way Out - A reference to somebody's home which is disgustingly dirty.
Doughnuts - A punishment. Any indiscretion could lead an officer to be required to buy doughnuts for his entire team. An officer may walk in late and be greeted by shouts of "Doughnuts!".
Soon Be Christmas - A term said when things are bad. As in "Never mind, it'll soon be Christmas".
Death Message - The task of attending someone's next of kin to inform them that their loved one is deceased.
Tit Hat - The large helmet traditionally associated with British police officers.
MetCab - The process of using a police vehicle in order to get home, usually when drunk. The drunk party would not drive but get a colleague to drive them home in a police car.
Over the Side - Somebody is 'over the side' if they are are cheating on their partner.
Bosh - To bosh something is to get rid of it in the easiest way possible. For example an incident may be 'boshed' by simply convincing all relevant parties that no further action is required. This is also known as Putting something in a box.
Met Bundle - The somewhat chaotic bundle of bodies that often ensues when trying to restrain somebody. Also known as a Roll Around.
Doing Somebody's Legs - Stitching somebody up.
Job's Fucked - A reference to how 'The Job' has detereorated to a point that nothing works. It is fucked.
Anonymous Bobby
Mong - An idiot. Somebody incapable of living their life without constant supervision.
Wiping Your Feet On The Way Out - A reference to somebody's home which is disgustingly dirty.
Doughnuts - A punishment. Any indiscretion could lead an officer to be required to buy doughnuts for his entire team. An officer may walk in late and be greeted by shouts of "Doughnuts!".
Soon Be Christmas - A term said when things are bad. As in "Never mind, it'll soon be Christmas".
Death Message - The task of attending someone's next of kin to inform them that their loved one is deceased.
Tit Hat - The large helmet traditionally associated with British police officers.
MetCab - The process of using a police vehicle in order to get home, usually when drunk. The drunk party would not drive but get a colleague to drive them home in a police car.
Over the Side - Somebody is 'over the side' if they are are cheating on their partner.
Bosh - To bosh something is to get rid of it in the easiest way possible. For example an incident may be 'boshed' by simply convincing all relevant parties that no further action is required. This is also known as Putting something in a box.
Met Bundle - The somewhat chaotic bundle of bodies that often ensues when trying to restrain somebody. Also known as a Roll Around.
Doing Somebody's Legs - Stitching somebody up.
Job's Fucked - A reference to how 'The Job' has detereorated to a point that nothing works. It is fucked.
Anonymous Bobby
Friday, January 27, 2017
Operation Minstead
Operation Minstead refers to the investigation into the prolific burglar/rapist that had plagued London's elderly community for decades. He had acquired the nickname 'The Nightstalker'.
Since the 1980s there had been many similar offences. Late at night a suspect would remove a pane of glass in the window of an elderly person. It was always an elderly person whom lived alone. Items were carefully moved to one side and the perpetrator took his time to cut telephone wires (and in later years place mobile phones on top of kitchen cabinets). Credit cards and cash were taken before he would gently sit on the bed of the elderly person. He would then commit rape and sexual assaults on his terrified victims. He targeted both male and female victims aged around 80 years.
His crimes took place over 20 years and are believed to number in the hundreds. Many victims are believed to have been too ashamed to have come forward. Many died before plucking up the courage to come forward. Some, having reported the matter, died soon after the offence, having never been the same since the awful intrusion.
Operation Minstead was the operation set up by the Metropolitan Police in order to catch The Nightstalker. It spanned decades and many officers deemed The Nightstalker too good at his crimes to ever be caught. He was, once, chased for a mile having just committed an offence by a lone police officer, but he was lost in a car park.
Police had descriptions of their man from several victims and CCTV of him withdrawing money from a cashpoint (ATM) using a victim's stolen credit card. They also had his DNA. But none of the DNA matched that which was held on the National DNA database.
The Nightstalker was caught a couple of years ago. By then, police knew the model of car he was using and 'old fashioned police work' (hundreds of police out at night looking for a man matching The Nightstalker's description in the model of car involved) they stopped him with his implements having recently committed one of his trademark crimes.
His DNA matched that left at several of the crime scenes.
His name was Delroy Grant, 53 years of age. He was a mini cab driver who spent the day caring for his wife who suffered from multiple sclerosis. Neighbours described him as a gentleman. His was mild mannered and obsessively clean and tidy. He tried to blame the crimes on his son, but that simply did not add up.
He was never found guilty of all his crimes because so many victims had either died, or not come forward. The Crown Prosecution Service picked 29 of the strongest cases against Grant and he was convicted of them. He was sentenced to a minimum 27 years. Meaning he could be freed aged 80, the average age of his victims.
Anonymous Bobby
Since the 1980s there had been many similar offences. Late at night a suspect would remove a pane of glass in the window of an elderly person. It was always an elderly person whom lived alone. Items were carefully moved to one side and the perpetrator took his time to cut telephone wires (and in later years place mobile phones on top of kitchen cabinets). Credit cards and cash were taken before he would gently sit on the bed of the elderly person. He would then commit rape and sexual assaults on his terrified victims. He targeted both male and female victims aged around 80 years.
His crimes took place over 20 years and are believed to number in the hundreds. Many victims are believed to have been too ashamed to have come forward. Many died before plucking up the courage to come forward. Some, having reported the matter, died soon after the offence, having never been the same since the awful intrusion.
Operation Minstead was the operation set up by the Metropolitan Police in order to catch The Nightstalker. It spanned decades and many officers deemed The Nightstalker too good at his crimes to ever be caught. He was, once, chased for a mile having just committed an offence by a lone police officer, but he was lost in a car park.
Police had descriptions of their man from several victims and CCTV of him withdrawing money from a cashpoint (ATM) using a victim's stolen credit card. They also had his DNA. But none of the DNA matched that which was held on the National DNA database.
The Nightstalker was caught a couple of years ago. By then, police knew the model of car he was using and 'old fashioned police work' (hundreds of police out at night looking for a man matching The Nightstalker's description in the model of car involved) they stopped him with his implements having recently committed one of his trademark crimes.
His DNA matched that left at several of the crime scenes.
His name was Delroy Grant, 53 years of age. He was a mini cab driver who spent the day caring for his wife who suffered from multiple sclerosis. Neighbours described him as a gentleman. His was mild mannered and obsessively clean and tidy. He tried to blame the crimes on his son, but that simply did not add up.
He was never found guilty of all his crimes because so many victims had either died, or not come forward. The Crown Prosecution Service picked 29 of the strongest cases against Grant and he was convicted of them. He was sentenced to a minimum 27 years. Meaning he could be freed aged 80, the average age of his victims.
Anonymous Bobby
Monday, January 23, 2017
A Professional Relationship with Death
Being a police officer for so long, on the front line of crime in the UK, has caused me to develop a strong relationship with death. I almost consider death a colleague with whom I work hand in hand.
I've spent more time than I care to think about around death. I have seen many dead bodies. Normally lying in the same position as when they took their final breath. I have broken the news to the loved ones of people who have passed too many times. The task of delivering such news is called a 'death message' and despite the various horrendous tasks police officers undertake, this is often considered the least desirable. It is certainly my least favourite item to deal with.
I've seen people die. I've heard the infamous 'death rattle'.
After a while I became familiar with death and the circumstances that surround it. I suppose it is a defence mechanism that I now consider death a colleague.
The most apparent and immediate consequence of death's presence is the smell. To describe it as a smell is actually misleading. However 'smell' is the closest and easiest description for the atmosphere in a place where death has been at work. In actual fact you do not even need to breath to be completely enveloped by the aroma and stale air that follows death. For those uninitiated in the ways of death, the best description of this 'smell' is to compare it to the smell of cannabis. Once a person is familiar with the smell of cannabis they recognise it easily, and do not tend to mistake it with anything else. It is such a distinctive smell, completley unique, that once a person knows the smell, they always recognise it. The same is to be said about the smell of death. The smell can linger in your throat or on your clothes for days like no other smell I have ever encountered.
Long ago a colleague and I forced our way into a flat where a man had not been seen for weeks. Before the door was open we knew he was dead inside, and had been so for a while. We could smell death. Sure enough, the man lay on his bed and the smell was absolutely horrendous. He was a white man but his skin had turned completely black. He had been there for weeks. I looked down to his stomach, which appeared to be moving. It was. A mass of maggots had turned his stomach into a living, moving lump of decaying flesh. My colleague pushed me into the room and held the door shut so I couldn't escape. Dark humour such as that is difficult to understand but a way that police officers deal with such horror.
There is another case where a woman was found sat in her armchair. Her television was on. She had obviously been there for months and had largely melted away into her carpet. On her lap was a TV guide which had rotted along with her. It was late December. The TV guide was just about eligible and open to the previous Christmas Eve, over a year ago.
More often we find the elderly relatively 'fresh' in their homes. Once there was an elderly chap who had died in the night at home. His flat was adorned with anniversary cards between himself and his wife. Pictures of his wife were everywhere and it was obvious that he missed her dearly. She had died a few years before. Before the undertakers took the man away I removed a coin from his wallet with an inscription on the back from his wife (he had obviously carried it around with him for most of his life). I placed it in his pocket to accompany him on his final journey. (Please note that we are required to search people's homes and wallets etc for high value items and large quantities of cash so that they are not left unattended and vulnerable, I was not leafing through his wallet out of curiosity!).
People tend to be curious about death. I have seen enough to satisfy any curiosity that I may have had. The curse is that when those close to you die, you know exactly what they looked like as they lay waiting to be found.
Anonymous Bobby
I've spent more time than I care to think about around death. I have seen many dead bodies. Normally lying in the same position as when they took their final breath. I have broken the news to the loved ones of people who have passed too many times. The task of delivering such news is called a 'death message' and despite the various horrendous tasks police officers undertake, this is often considered the least desirable. It is certainly my least favourite item to deal with.
I've seen people die. I've heard the infamous 'death rattle'.
After a while I became familiar with death and the circumstances that surround it. I suppose it is a defence mechanism that I now consider death a colleague.
The most apparent and immediate consequence of death's presence is the smell. To describe it as a smell is actually misleading. However 'smell' is the closest and easiest description for the atmosphere in a place where death has been at work. In actual fact you do not even need to breath to be completely enveloped by the aroma and stale air that follows death. For those uninitiated in the ways of death, the best description of this 'smell' is to compare it to the smell of cannabis. Once a person is familiar with the smell of cannabis they recognise it easily, and do not tend to mistake it with anything else. It is such a distinctive smell, completley unique, that once a person knows the smell, they always recognise it. The same is to be said about the smell of death. The smell can linger in your throat or on your clothes for days like no other smell I have ever encountered.
Long ago a colleague and I forced our way into a flat where a man had not been seen for weeks. Before the door was open we knew he was dead inside, and had been so for a while. We could smell death. Sure enough, the man lay on his bed and the smell was absolutely horrendous. He was a white man but his skin had turned completely black. He had been there for weeks. I looked down to his stomach, which appeared to be moving. It was. A mass of maggots had turned his stomach into a living, moving lump of decaying flesh. My colleague pushed me into the room and held the door shut so I couldn't escape. Dark humour such as that is difficult to understand but a way that police officers deal with such horror.
There is another case where a woman was found sat in her armchair. Her television was on. She had obviously been there for months and had largely melted away into her carpet. On her lap was a TV guide which had rotted along with her. It was late December. The TV guide was just about eligible and open to the previous Christmas Eve, over a year ago.
More often we find the elderly relatively 'fresh' in their homes. Once there was an elderly chap who had died in the night at home. His flat was adorned with anniversary cards between himself and his wife. Pictures of his wife were everywhere and it was obvious that he missed her dearly. She had died a few years before. Before the undertakers took the man away I removed a coin from his wallet with an inscription on the back from his wife (he had obviously carried it around with him for most of his life). I placed it in his pocket to accompany him on his final journey. (Please note that we are required to search people's homes and wallets etc for high value items and large quantities of cash so that they are not left unattended and vulnerable, I was not leafing through his wallet out of curiosity!).
People tend to be curious about death. I have seen enough to satisfy any curiosity that I may have had. The curse is that when those close to you die, you know exactly what they looked like as they lay waiting to be found.
Anonymous Bobby
Friday, January 20, 2017
Police Jargon 2
The second in Anonymous Bobby's Police Jargon series....
The Job - 'The Job' is a general way of referring to the police as a whole. For example:
John: "See that bloke over there?"
Boris: "Yeah, isnt't he in The Job?"
John: "Yeah he works in Croydon."
In some instances it is shortened to simply 'Job'. For example:
John: "That bloke is Job."
or
John: "I hate that bloke he is always talking Job" (indicating that he is always talking about the police and his occupation).
Jobfit - This is a term used to describe a person of either sex who is considered sexually attractive but only when compared to other police officers. In the general population they may be of average looks, whereas compared to other police officers, and the limited selection available, they would be classed as 'Jobfit'.
Sack of Shit - Refers to anybody he looks untidy. He "looks like a sack of shit".
Weary - Anything or anybody who makes things unnecessarily difficult. A call somebody is dealing with may be weary, meaning it is complicated and likely to be protracted. Or an officer may be considered weary for doing things to the letter of the law or taking too long to complete tasks.
PC Rain - Considered by all to be the most effective police officer the world has ever seen. PC Rain is simply, the rain. It is a reference to the tendency of crime to significantly diminish whilst it is raining.
Refs - Short for refreshments. Used to describe a break. "I'm going for refs now" or "What have you got for refs?"
Q - Police officers are a superstitious bunch. It is widely considered that using the word 'quiet' in any form will bring a sudden increase in crime and calls. Rather than risk saying 'quiet' officers say 'Q'. For example:
John: "It's really Q tonight isn't it?"
Boris: "Yeah, I haven't seen it this Q for a long time".
Old Sweat - An officer of considerable experience.
A Microwave - The opposite of an old sweat. Somebody who has been in The Job for less than 3 or 4 years and already thinks they know it all.
John: "That bloke has been in The Job for 5 minutes and he thinks he's done".
Hence, microwave.
Job Pissed - Somebody who loves The Job and lets it define them. They may work all of their days off and all the overtime they can get their hands. They will continuously 'talk job'.
A Doris - A female.
iPoo - An iPoo is caused by a sudden and desperate need to defecate. If such need is so desperate that the officer requires his blue lights and siren to get to the nearest washroom, then it is deemed an iPoo.
Anonymous Bobby
The Job - 'The Job' is a general way of referring to the police as a whole. For example:
John: "See that bloke over there?"
Boris: "Yeah, isnt't he in The Job?"
John: "Yeah he works in Croydon."
In some instances it is shortened to simply 'Job'. For example:
John: "That bloke is Job."
or
John: "I hate that bloke he is always talking Job" (indicating that he is always talking about the police and his occupation).
Jobfit - This is a term used to describe a person of either sex who is considered sexually attractive but only when compared to other police officers. In the general population they may be of average looks, whereas compared to other police officers, and the limited selection available, they would be classed as 'Jobfit'.
Sack of Shit - Refers to anybody he looks untidy. He "looks like a sack of shit".
Weary - Anything or anybody who makes things unnecessarily difficult. A call somebody is dealing with may be weary, meaning it is complicated and likely to be protracted. Or an officer may be considered weary for doing things to the letter of the law or taking too long to complete tasks.
PC Rain - Considered by all to be the most effective police officer the world has ever seen. PC Rain is simply, the rain. It is a reference to the tendency of crime to significantly diminish whilst it is raining.
Refs - Short for refreshments. Used to describe a break. "I'm going for refs now" or "What have you got for refs?"
Q - Police officers are a superstitious bunch. It is widely considered that using the word 'quiet' in any form will bring a sudden increase in crime and calls. Rather than risk saying 'quiet' officers say 'Q'. For example:
John: "It's really Q tonight isn't it?"
Boris: "Yeah, I haven't seen it this Q for a long time".
Old Sweat - An officer of considerable experience.
A Microwave - The opposite of an old sweat. Somebody who has been in The Job for less than 3 or 4 years and already thinks they know it all.
John: "That bloke has been in The Job for 5 minutes and he thinks he's done".
Hence, microwave.
Job Pissed - Somebody who loves The Job and lets it define them. They may work all of their days off and all the overtime they can get their hands. They will continuously 'talk job'.
A Doris - A female.
iPoo - An iPoo is caused by a sudden and desperate need to defecate. If such need is so desperate that the officer requires his blue lights and siren to get to the nearest washroom, then it is deemed an iPoo.
Anonymous Bobby
Sunday, January 15, 2017
Police Jargon 1
Police officers have their own language. Abbreviations, anagrams, police slang and jargon form a completely new language. I have, in the past, had full conversations with other officers in front of a suspect regarding their offence whereby they would think we were just talking gobbledy-gook. Below I shall outline some of this jargon for the purposes of clarity in this ongoing blog.
R5 - This originates from a method of reporting back a radio signal. If someone is speaking on the radio they can be deemed to be between R1 and R5. If somebody is R1 they have poor signal and are unreadable on the radio. R5 would mean they are loud and clear. It is still used on the radio in London today. It has also spread to everyday conversation. For example:
Officer 1 (We shall call him John): *Stood in the street and notices a particularly attractive young lady walk past*
Officer 2 (We shall call him Boris): * Fails to notice said female*
John: 'Boris look....' *Gives a nod toward the female in question*
Boris: *Following the direction of John's nod and noticing the female* 'Ah. You're R5 mate'. *Nods in approval*
A crude yet poignant example of R5's entry into everyday police language.
A Body - Now this does not mean what you would imagine. If an officer 'has a body' it merely means that they have arrested somebody and are currently dealing with the matter. This can also be referred to as 'One in the bin' (a person in custody) or 'a body in the bin'.
RTC - A Road Traffic Collision, formerly known as an RTA (Road Traffic Accident). These incidents were, and I'm sure you'll agree crucially, changed to RTC's rather than RTA's as an RTA would imply that the matter was an accident whereby this assumption can not legitimately be made without investigation, therefore the term RTC was born. Somebody probably got promoted for noticing that oversight. Quite right too.
Foxtrot Oscar - Simply 'Fuck Off'.
Batshit Crazy - A delicate term referring to someone of poor mental health. Also used for this purpose, the term 'wibble'.
Slag - Not the traditional definition. In fact the term 'slag' has a completely different meaning in police language to its everyday use. In police language 'slag' means anything that is 'no-good' and 'crime ridden'. For example a person can be slag. He would not be a slag. He's just slag. An address can be slag. Or slaggy. Example:
John: "See that bloke over there?"
Boris: "Yeah, he looks well slaggy". (indicating that he looks like a wrong 'un)
John: "He is. I nicked him last week. Proper slag".
Boris: "Isn't he from 14A Anonymous Drive?"
John: "Yeah"
Boris: "We're always going there, it's such a slaggy address".
Not a typical conversation between two officers, but you get the idea.
EAB - The small blue booklet normally filled out after an arrest or used to take a statement from a victim/witness.
Trap 1 - Trap 1 or 2 and so forth is a system to refer to which toilet cubicle an officer is in. Example:
John: "Where's Inspector Anonymous?"
Boris: "He's in Trap 1."
John: "Did you see Trap 2 earlier? It looked like somebody had spontaneously combusted in there".
B-1-N - The bin. Example of use:
John: "Where did you put that statement from earlier?"
Boris: "I filed it under B-1-N." (Meaning he put it in the bin).
L-O-B - Load of bollocks.
Skip - a car. Usually in disrepair. Also used for this purpose, the term 'shed'.
"On Me" or to frantically tapping the top of one's head - 'On Me' simply means come to me. If a person, or persons, is too far away to hear you but they can see you, you would simply repeatedly tap the top of your head with your hand until they comply and come to you.
IC7 - The IC code refers to a person's ethnicity and officially goes from IC1-6. IC7 is unofficial and refers to a person with ginger hair.
A Cluster Fuck - Meaning all hell has broken loose and nobody is really in any form of control. Example:
John: "What happened at that arrest earlier, it sounded crazy on the radio?"
Boris: "It was a complete Cluster Fuck mate".
I shall divulge more jargon to you another time. I hope you have enjoyed these revelations. Save the blog to your favourites, follow me on Twitter @anonbobbyblog and tell you're friends and family. For now, I'm off to Trap 1.
Anonymous Bobby
R5 - This originates from a method of reporting back a radio signal. If someone is speaking on the radio they can be deemed to be between R1 and R5. If somebody is R1 they have poor signal and are unreadable on the radio. R5 would mean they are loud and clear. It is still used on the radio in London today. It has also spread to everyday conversation. For example:
Officer 1 (We shall call him John): *Stood in the street and notices a particularly attractive young lady walk past*
Officer 2 (We shall call him Boris): * Fails to notice said female*
John: 'Boris look....' *Gives a nod toward the female in question*
Boris: *Following the direction of John's nod and noticing the female* 'Ah. You're R5 mate'. *Nods in approval*
A crude yet poignant example of R5's entry into everyday police language.
A Body - Now this does not mean what you would imagine. If an officer 'has a body' it merely means that they have arrested somebody and are currently dealing with the matter. This can also be referred to as 'One in the bin' (a person in custody) or 'a body in the bin'.
RTC - A Road Traffic Collision, formerly known as an RTA (Road Traffic Accident). These incidents were, and I'm sure you'll agree crucially, changed to RTC's rather than RTA's as an RTA would imply that the matter was an accident whereby this assumption can not legitimately be made without investigation, therefore the term RTC was born. Somebody probably got promoted for noticing that oversight. Quite right too.
Foxtrot Oscar - Simply 'Fuck Off'.
Batshit Crazy - A delicate term referring to someone of poor mental health. Also used for this purpose, the term 'wibble'.
Slag - Not the traditional definition. In fact the term 'slag' has a completely different meaning in police language to its everyday use. In police language 'slag' means anything that is 'no-good' and 'crime ridden'. For example a person can be slag. He would not be a slag. He's just slag. An address can be slag. Or slaggy. Example:
John: "See that bloke over there?"
Boris: "Yeah, he looks well slaggy". (indicating that he looks like a wrong 'un)
John: "He is. I nicked him last week. Proper slag".
Boris: "Isn't he from 14A Anonymous Drive?"
John: "Yeah"
Boris: "We're always going there, it's such a slaggy address".
Not a typical conversation between two officers, but you get the idea.
EAB - The small blue booklet normally filled out after an arrest or used to take a statement from a victim/witness.
Trap 1 - Trap 1 or 2 and so forth is a system to refer to which toilet cubicle an officer is in. Example:
John: "Where's Inspector Anonymous?"
Boris: "He's in Trap 1."
John: "Did you see Trap 2 earlier? It looked like somebody had spontaneously combusted in there".
B-1-N - The bin. Example of use:
John: "Where did you put that statement from earlier?"
Boris: "I filed it under B-1-N." (Meaning he put it in the bin).
L-O-B - Load of bollocks.
Skip - a car. Usually in disrepair. Also used for this purpose, the term 'shed'.
"On Me" or to frantically tapping the top of one's head - 'On Me' simply means come to me. If a person, or persons, is too far away to hear you but they can see you, you would simply repeatedly tap the top of your head with your hand until they comply and come to you.
IC7 - The IC code refers to a person's ethnicity and officially goes from IC1-6. IC7 is unofficial and refers to a person with ginger hair.
A Cluster Fuck - Meaning all hell has broken loose and nobody is really in any form of control. Example:
John: "What happened at that arrest earlier, it sounded crazy on the radio?"
Boris: "It was a complete Cluster Fuck mate".
I shall divulge more jargon to you another time. I hope you have enjoyed these revelations. Save the blog to your favourites, follow me on Twitter @anonbobbyblog and tell you're friends and family. For now, I'm off to Trap 1.
Anonymous Bobby
Friday, January 13, 2017
The 10 Year Old and his Teacher
People often ask "What is the worst thing you have ever dealt with?"
Officers around the World will recognise that question, and also the numb blankness that follows as you try and recall a stand out incident. I still don't know the answer, but one incident that jumps to my mind is the case of the 10 year old boy and his assistant teacher.
The boy's father had noticed a change in his son's behaviour. Something wasn't right and when he questioned him further the boy soon revealed that an assistant teacher at his school had been molesting him for the past few months. The father, stricken with grief and not knowing what to do, took the boy to hospital. He explained what his son had told him and the hospital called the police. I arrived with my colleague Ben to deal with them.
As response officers we only deal with the initial investigation. We would take a brief initial account from the boy and allow for the collection of forensic evidence. We would also be responsible for the initial counselling of the boy and his father, along with hospital staff.
The boy was clearly damaged. He was distraught and felt ashamed. He was upset. His father was inconsolable. We had a hard job on our hands.
We got the account of the incident from him, the details of which I will spare you. The assistant teacher had allegedly been anally raping the boy for months. Doctors confirmed that the boy had suffered some trauma in the suggested area.
I had to take the boy into a room and seize his clothes. It must have been very difficult for him to be alone with a stranger, albeit a police officer, having experienced what he had allegedly experienced. It was difficult to console him and I felt a duty to somewhat restore his faith in adults as best I could.
The teacher was arrested (I wasn't allowed anywhere near him for forensic reasons, which was probably for the best). We delivered the boy and his family to the appropriate specialists having spent 8 hours with them.
An incident like that stays with you for a while. It's not like reading about it in the paper or seeing it on television. You are there. You see it, smell it, interact with it, influence it, and live it. It becomes a part of you and once you have experienced something like that poor boy up close, a part of you changes forever.
I never found out what the outcome of the incident was. I didn't want to know and I still don't. This incident was many, many years ago now but I still occasionally see Ben (my colleague that day). He did follow up on the incident and whenever I see him he asks me "Do you want to know what happened with the 10 year old and the teacher yet?". My answer is always "No". I know enough already.
Anonymous Bobby.
Officers around the World will recognise that question, and also the numb blankness that follows as you try and recall a stand out incident. I still don't know the answer, but one incident that jumps to my mind is the case of the 10 year old boy and his assistant teacher.
The boy's father had noticed a change in his son's behaviour. Something wasn't right and when he questioned him further the boy soon revealed that an assistant teacher at his school had been molesting him for the past few months. The father, stricken with grief and not knowing what to do, took the boy to hospital. He explained what his son had told him and the hospital called the police. I arrived with my colleague Ben to deal with them.
As response officers we only deal with the initial investigation. We would take a brief initial account from the boy and allow for the collection of forensic evidence. We would also be responsible for the initial counselling of the boy and his father, along with hospital staff.
The boy was clearly damaged. He was distraught and felt ashamed. He was upset. His father was inconsolable. We had a hard job on our hands.
We got the account of the incident from him, the details of which I will spare you. The assistant teacher had allegedly been anally raping the boy for months. Doctors confirmed that the boy had suffered some trauma in the suggested area.
I had to take the boy into a room and seize his clothes. It must have been very difficult for him to be alone with a stranger, albeit a police officer, having experienced what he had allegedly experienced. It was difficult to console him and I felt a duty to somewhat restore his faith in adults as best I could.
The teacher was arrested (I wasn't allowed anywhere near him for forensic reasons, which was probably for the best). We delivered the boy and his family to the appropriate specialists having spent 8 hours with them.
An incident like that stays with you for a while. It's not like reading about it in the paper or seeing it on television. You are there. You see it, smell it, interact with it, influence it, and live it. It becomes a part of you and once you have experienced something like that poor boy up close, a part of you changes forever.
I never found out what the outcome of the incident was. I didn't want to know and I still don't. This incident was many, many years ago now but I still occasionally see Ben (my colleague that day). He did follow up on the incident and whenever I see him he asks me "Do you want to know what happened with the 10 year old and the teacher yet?". My answer is always "No". I know enough already.
Anonymous Bobby.
Thursday, January 12, 2017
A Mental Health Crisis
Mental Health care in London is in crisis.
As a response police officer I would estimate that at least 50% of call outs are to people from suffering with mental health problems. It appears that no matter how in need of help they, they are soon released without adequate support and we are soon picking them up once again. I once section 136'd a male who was attacking passers-by with a mallet. He was violent towards any passing public and police and could easily have killed somebody. It was clear that once he was detained safely that he had major mental health problems. We were glad to section the male and take him to a place of safety at a mental health hospital where he could receive help. A couple of months later a colleague text me and told me that he had just had to section the male again, in the same place, doing the same thing. Luckily nobody was harmed on either occasion.
This example is not a rarity but, instead, commonplace. There is a distinct lack of funding and care which leaves a hole that police officers are expected to fill. Whilst officers are usually dynamic and communicative, the very presence of police can often aggravate a person with poor mental health. They need a response from mental health specialists.
It has often hit the media that police cells are used as a 'place of safety' for persons whom have been subject to Section 136. The truth is that often there is 'no room at the inn' at designated mental health suites, hospitals don't tend to want to know and the only option remaining is a police cell. However, since negative media attention on the issue this practice has all but ceased.
There are problems around legislation and police power. Section 136 of the Mental Health Act gives officers the power to take a person who is deemed an immediate danger to themselves or others to a designated place of safety, by force if necessary. This, however, only applies if the person is in a public space. If someone is at home and threatening to kill themselves, the police, nor the ambulance, have the power to forcibly take them to get help. The ambulance service have a Section 135, however this only gives them the power similar to a 136 if that person is unable to make a decision for themselves. This would include if they were physically unable to communicate, or mentally unwell enough to be unable to communicate. If they were sat on their bed, lucidly communicating how they intended to end their life, 135 would not apply. This often leads to a stalemate whereby police and paramedics remain at a mentally unwell person's home for hours and hours, trying to convince them to go to hospital, at least voluntarily. This grey area needs addressing and legislating for immediately.
Police officers, in the main, are all rounders and are equipped with problem solving skills and communication skills that get them through these incidents. However, officers are not trained in mental health to any kind of degree whereby they are truly equipped to do anything other than deliver people in need to the deficient services that are currently available.
Anonymous Bobby
As a response police officer I would estimate that at least 50% of call outs are to people from suffering with mental health problems. It appears that no matter how in need of help they, they are soon released without adequate support and we are soon picking them up once again. I once section 136'd a male who was attacking passers-by with a mallet. He was violent towards any passing public and police and could easily have killed somebody. It was clear that once he was detained safely that he had major mental health problems. We were glad to section the male and take him to a place of safety at a mental health hospital where he could receive help. A couple of months later a colleague text me and told me that he had just had to section the male again, in the same place, doing the same thing. Luckily nobody was harmed on either occasion.
This example is not a rarity but, instead, commonplace. There is a distinct lack of funding and care which leaves a hole that police officers are expected to fill. Whilst officers are usually dynamic and communicative, the very presence of police can often aggravate a person with poor mental health. They need a response from mental health specialists.
It has often hit the media that police cells are used as a 'place of safety' for persons whom have been subject to Section 136. The truth is that often there is 'no room at the inn' at designated mental health suites, hospitals don't tend to want to know and the only option remaining is a police cell. However, since negative media attention on the issue this practice has all but ceased.
There are problems around legislation and police power. Section 136 of the Mental Health Act gives officers the power to take a person who is deemed an immediate danger to themselves or others to a designated place of safety, by force if necessary. This, however, only applies if the person is in a public space. If someone is at home and threatening to kill themselves, the police, nor the ambulance, have the power to forcibly take them to get help. The ambulance service have a Section 135, however this only gives them the power similar to a 136 if that person is unable to make a decision for themselves. This would include if they were physically unable to communicate, or mentally unwell enough to be unable to communicate. If they were sat on their bed, lucidly communicating how they intended to end their life, 135 would not apply. This often leads to a stalemate whereby police and paramedics remain at a mentally unwell person's home for hours and hours, trying to convince them to go to hospital, at least voluntarily. This grey area needs addressing and legislating for immediately.
Police officers, in the main, are all rounders and are equipped with problem solving skills and communication skills that get them through these incidents. However, officers are not trained in mental health to any kind of degree whereby they are truly equipped to do anything other than deliver people in need to the deficient services that are currently available.
Anonymous Bobby
Sunday, January 8, 2017
The Swinging Man
Several years back a typical shift was coming to an
end. I was in a patrol car with my good friend, and colleague, David. We were
both weary as the calls had not stopped coming in that day, in fact we were
slowly heading back to 'The Ranch' (the police station) to type up the day's
reports. We were moments away from turning into 'The Yard' when the radio came
to life.
"I graded call to Anonymous Park, a member of
the public says he can see a man hanging from the climbing frame".
We were around the corner.
Now, these types of calls are strange. It was
daylight. It was in London, where there were a lot of people about and in 99%
of cases like this that member of the public would be mistaken in some way or
another. An I graded call, by the way, is the highest rating a call can
receive, giving a response unit a maximum of 14 minutes to get to the scene.
We needed no more than 3 minutes. This was not one
of those occasions in the 99%. This was the 1%. The silhouette of a man hanging
from the climbing frame swung gently in the breeze in the dimming light of an
Autumnal day in London. David and I drove straight into the park. Nobody else
was around, except a lone dog walker stood glumly by the swinging man. This was
our informant.
David had fetched our first aid kit from the boot
of the car and unzipped it, turned it upside down and dumped its entire
contents onto the floor rather than search around inside it. Meanwhile, I took
hold of the swinging man's waist and tried to support his weight as best as I
could. He was still warm-ish. It is worth noting that an adult male's body,
completely limp, is an incredibly heavy item and this male weighed in excess of
85KG. David produced a pair of tough-cut scissors from the mess of first aid
items on the floor, climbed onto the climbing frame and began attempting to cut
away at the ligature. After a few seconds I felt the males full weight fall
onto me and we fell to the floor together, I did my best to stop either of our
heads hitting the ground too roughly.
David and I were both experienced officers and so
while we were transmitting the relevant information to our colleagues, and
requesting an ambulance, we lay the man out and I immediately got on his chest
and started compressions whilst David placed a face mask over the man's face
and routinely blew two breaths into his lungs between my 30 compressions.
There was no sign of life from the male as a
paramedic arrived. We continued with the CPR as he did his checks. He told us
there was no pulse. Nonetheless we continued as more and more paramedics
flooded that little park. David and I would occasionally swap over as chest
compressions become tiring very quickly. For about 10 minutes we continued like
this whilst various healthcare professionals drilled into the male, injected
him, and did various other things to him that I did not understand.
Suddenly, the paramedic who seemed to be running
his team's side of the show said "I've got a pulse". I felt a strange
sense of careful optimism for him. Quickly he was scooped onto a bed and we
hurried him to the nearest hospital.
We stayed with him (as is policy) and it wasn't
long before a doctor approached David and I and told us that we had saved the
man's life. He remained on life support for a number of months before dying. So
I guess we didn't save his life after all.
I remember needing a whiskey or two when I got in
that night. It takes time to turn your brain off when you have experienced
something like that. You feel it, touch it, make decisions during it, smell it,
taste it and live it. It becomes a part of your own story and remains in your
psyche. This story is one of hundreds that I wish to share with you on this
blog. I don't recount these things to boast, or tell you all what a hero I am.
I'm nothing of the sort as you will learn as these pages pass. I want you to
understand that policing is a complex and difficult matter which takes its toll
on those who are consistently out there in situations such as the one I have
outlined above. It is not a remarkable story. It is a tragedy and one that is
played out all over London, everyday, over and over again. This blog is for the
regular participants in that tragedy, the police officers.
Anonymous Bobby
Ask a Police Officer
Hello World, I'm Anonymous Bobby.
I'm a serving, front line police officer in London,
UK where I have worked for a little under a decade. I work in response
policing, meaning that I am out on the streets in a patrol car responding to
your 999 emergency calls.
I have plenty to tell you. I've Tasered people.
I've performed CPR on people (sometimes successfully, sometimes not). I've
chased hardened criminals through the streets of London. I've arrested people
for most offences from attempted murder down to burglary. I've carefully led a
boy who had been abused through the reporting process. I've hugged your loved
ones as they cried. I've been in car chases. I've met death so often that he
and I are like old friends. I've talked people off the edge of a bridge, I've
watched others jump. I've stood toe to toe with maniacs with knives. I've seen
you at your best, more often at your worst. This is a cruel and dark world and
I want to share it with you.
Why am I anonymous? Because I want to be honest
with you. There are some hard truths about policing, and human beings in
general, that I want to speak about on this blog and I fear that those within
the Metropolitan Police will be displeased about me doing so. The police in
England are all about transparency, so an experienced frontline officer should
be free to share his thoughts and experiences without censorship. A blog such
as this is rare as everyday police officers are everyday people, with families
and commitments. One wrong word against 'The Job' (this is how officers refer
to their occupation) could be your last as a police officer. Officers are
warned repeatedly against Facebook, Twitter and all social media. What is it we
are scared of people finding out? The thing is, I don't care anymore. The UK
would be a better place if the public could see the world through the eyes of
the men and women who police their streets.
So come with me. I'll take you through my day to
day life as a police officer. I'll reminisce on the last decade and recount the
stories and people that have stuck with me. I'll address, frankly, the
controversies that surround policing in the UK.
Some names and minor details may be altered in
order to try and maintain both my own and others' anonymity but I will keep
this blog as factually correct and honest as I can, despite how difficult to
swallow some truths may be.
Welcome. Buckle up. It's a stormy world out there
when you're on the frontline.
Anonymous Bobby
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