Page Three - Ejected from School (Copcast #118)

George prepared himself for another tour of duty, he just needed a quick roll call before he hit the mean streets of suburbia:

Handcuffs - check

Body Armour - check

Personal Radio - check

C.S. Spray - check

Four pens that work - check

A ream of blank witness statements (MG11's) - check

A bag of Maynards wine gums - check

He was posted to a remote outpost at the far flung edge of the county (known as the 'Outer Rim'). So fully armed with his appointments, he headed off to the 'shires' with his probationer to show them country folk how the urban coppers play.

Everything was 'Q' until two hours before they were due to knock off (the word Quiet is never to be used while on duty). Then they got a call to attend a high school to help eject a student who had been refusing to leave. Now in his day it was fairly difficult to get kids to stay in school and a student refusing to leave was a new one on George, so with a degree of curiosity he attended the scene.

Upon arrival in the class, after having to sign in (their uniforms and body armour obviously not totally convincing) they saw the lad sitting in the corner, doodling on a PC. Everything looked calm, but appearances can be deceiving and Kenny was 16, well built, about 6' tall and had a mean scowl. The teacher in charge (using the term loosely) explained that young Kenny had told her to EFF off, called her colleague a fat SEE and had tried to start a fight with one of the other kids. She asked them to eject him as he had also threatened to kick her face in if she went near him.

George politely asked the lad to leave, stating that if he didn't he would leave them no choice and they would have to arrest him to prevent a breach of the peace. His reply was eloquent. 'EFF off Copper'. Quickly establishing that he hadn't built up a rapport he let his much younger, bigger and fitter probationer reason with him. Not fazed by this change of tact, the lad looked up and said 'Right, your turn is it? EFF off copper'.

See where this was going? Kenny eventually explained he was annoyed because the 'Fat Cow' refused to give him access to Google. George noticed the lad had been doodling with a photo of 'Fat Cow' on his PC and using MS Paint, was making reference to her sexual preferences.

In the end after a few more pleas and warnings not to swear, the probationer nicked him to prevent a breach of the peace, this turned into a brief scuffle on the classroom floor in front of six other cop hating students chanting 'fight fight fight'.

Kenny was quickly tied up in a neat bow by the probationer and they escorted him outside. After 5 minutes and with the lack of an audience, a tearful Kenny calmed down and was de-arrested and the handcuffs were taken off. He grabbed his bike and was allowed to go on his way, however he misjudged the gap between two parked cars resulting in Kenny going over the top of his handlebars, with the rest of his bike landing on top of him and the cars.

Kenny was unhurt, but his pride was dented and his wheel bent. His legal guardian turned up and threw the bike in the back of the car and took Kenny away amid much swearing and gnashing of teeth.

George was left wondering if the world had really changed so much since he was at school

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Page Two - Sudden Death (Copcast #117)

Okay, picture the scene, it was New Years Eve and police had received a call to a 'concern for welfare'. A known drug user hadn't been seen by his family for three weeks and despite living in the same town, they had not bothered to call at the address over Christmas. George was asked to check it out accompanied by a 19-year-old probationer with less than five weeks street experience.

Upon arrival they could see that the window to the front of the kitchen was slightly open and walking up to it got a waft of that smell that no one forgets. Not looking good for the missing drug user so far.

They knocked on the door and called out "Anybody in? It's the police". No answer. They could hear the TV, so someone had been or was still in there and they knocked again, louder. "Come on mate, open the door, we just want to check you are ok". They knew by then that he must be dead and probably had been for some time. His body would be behind the front door somewhere and the heating was probably on as it was below freezing outside. Preparing himself for the worst, George then called up the station on his radio "Um, Control, we’re on scene, TV and lights are on, there is a suspicious smell coming from the window, it doesn't look good. I'm going to force entry".

They had to inform the Control Room that they were going to force entry in case the missing drug user was just a really heavy sleeper and having put the door in, causing damage to it in the process, he was then able to sue the police. That probably wasn't going to be a problem here though.

George called up for a 'Rammit' or 'Enforcer' otherwise known as a 'big red key' that needs to be held in two hands.

The probationer, clearly being driven on adrenaline and keen to see her first corpse, pushed the door and it swung open. Not locked, perhaps he should have checked before calling for the big red lump of metal. Hmmm, the smell was particularly potent, a quick search found the missing individual on his back in the bedroom, completely naked. He had been gone a while, it really wasn't very pretty and he was a funny shade of green, the probationer's enthusiasm started to ebb, but she was not perturbed. George told her to look around to see if there was anything suspicious. "What about him" she replied. He told her that the man was dead and he wasn't going anywhere just yet and anyway, the back windows were also open and the rear patio was unlocked. The place was on the top floor of an apartment block with no access to the rear but they called up the inspector anyway, just to cover their … prospects. The guv’nor turned up, walked about with his clipboard and declared that there were no suspicious circumstances. The deceased was insulin dependant and had no food or meds in the apartment, chances are he had a fix and returned to his apartment and then had a 'hypo', putting him in a coma never to wake up.

The ambulance crew turned up and attached sensors to the body to look for signs of life. A ridiculous spectacle, given his condition, but they had to do it 'by the book' too in order to declare death 'properly'. George felt like shouting "He's dead, dead I tell you" but didn't, they all knew the score.

The inspector then told them to check the back of the body 'just in case'. Yeah okay, they now knew he was playing games with them. If they rolled the body over, given his condition some of him was not going to move with the rest of him. There was no sign of blood anywhere, no weapon and no sign of a struggle. If there was anything suspicious about this death, then only the coroner was going to find it. Then the probationer said, in front of the inspector "shall we get on and search him then?" Great, everyone else left, knowing what is coming next. They took a lungful of clean air then helped each other with a quick roll of the late drug user. The probationer started to gag as she took a too-close-a-look at what was left of the corpse's back (she obviously breathed in). The body was placed back on the floor and George exited very quickly so he could start to breath again.

A very good learning point for the probationer, one she will never forget that's for sure! The undertakers eventually arrived wearing full oversuits and carrying a triple body bag. One of them shook the probationer’s hand on the way out, telling her she was very brave and she’d done remarkably well for her first dead body. George has to agree; at only 19 she is made of stern stuff and he suspects she will go on to great things.

All in all a very sad affair, no-one to check on him and left to die alone in squalor around the Christmas period. Makes you pretty thankful for what you've got. George was certainly more thankful when celebrating the New Year later that day.

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Page One - Another Burglary (Copcast #116)

This is an account from a typical day of a typical police officer serving in the UK. For the sake of his blushes we’ll call him George, he may not be a saint but it’s as good a name as any to use as get closer to St George’s day when we’ll be soberly celebrating the patron saint of England.

It's fair to say that George has been to a few burglaries. They range from 'tidy - you - would - never -know - anyone - had - been – in - the - house' affairs, to complete devastation where you have to console the home owner after they have discovered a leaving present from the burglar in their bed. How the minds of the common criminal / scumbag works never ceases to amaze ...

Anyway, George was called to report a burglary where the guy had returned from working abroad to find his house had been broken into via the back window. The window had been jemmied open and there were a number of footprints on the windowsill etc. 'Lovely', he thought. ‘Some evidence’ and called in scenes of crimes (SOCO) whilst he 'preserved' the scene (it's what we do in the UK, SOCO's are the experts – the equivalent of Gil Grissom and co, while the wooden tops or bobbies, do the scene preservation and initial investigation).

The SOCO turned up and George gave him a guided tour of what had been a relatively tidy search, a few books opened, tables moved. A computer, jewellry and other stuff had been taken, as well as a substantial amount of cash. The SOCO managed to lift some fingerprints and footprint impressions so not a complete waste of time for him. Hey, you never know right? Anyway George then got back to taking details from the victim.

"So just to confirm sir, you had £20,000 in a plastic bag tucked away behind the kitchen cupboard?"

"Yes officer"

"Do you have any other money in the house"

"Yes officer"

"Have you checked it?"

"Yes officer, its still there"

"When was the last time you saw the money?"

"Before I went away, in January"

"January? Does anyone else know you have this kind of money stashed away?"

"No officer, nobody"

"Who else lives here?"

"Nobody, oh only my son every now and then. He's in the army but stays here when he’s on leave"

"Does he know about your money?"

"No officer, but he wouldn't take it, he's my son"

"Right. But you've already told me he has sold your motorcycle without your permission whilst you have been working in South America. Does your son have money problems?"

"Officer he’s my son, he wouldn’t do such a thing. I help him pay his debts, he only has to ask"

"Right …"

He’s waiting for SOCO results and George is willing to bet that all of the fingerprints on the jars etc that had to be moved to get to the money belong to the son. You can imagine it now - son comes home, gets hungry, starts looking around for food, finds a mysterious plastic bag at the back of the cupboard. Ho, ho, ho … is it Christmas?

For the record the son went back to his unit early before Dad arrived home and Dad is finding it hard to contact him on his mobile phone. CSI he isn’t, but George reckons he might just've cracked this case for detectives in CID. It’s surprising how people generally still find it almost impossible to believe the worst of their closest relatives, especially parents of their children, despite the most overwhelming evidence to the contrary.

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